Page 29 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

"Oh yes," Ethan grinned.

And then? Mayhem.

The bird swooped down like it had personally declared war on us.

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the camera, turned, and bolted. "ABORT MISSION! ABORT!"

"Don’t run, just stay still—" Shun tried to say, but then Joy grabbed her arm and yanked her along. "Nope, we are NOT being bird food today!"

Meanwhile, Ethan? Ethan was laughing. Laughing. He casually sidestepped as the bird nearly clipped him, looking like this was hilarious.

I hated him.

Max, instead of running, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the bird. "BRING IT ON, FEATHERFACE!"

"Max, SHUT UP!" Shun snapped, dragging him away before he could get himself murdered.

"Why is this happening?" I shouted, ducking behind a rock as the bird made another round.

"Because," Joy yelled as she crouched behind a fallen tree, "we chose to film a horror documentary, apparently!"

Mr. Dax, who had had it up to here with us, clapped his hands loudly. "ENOUGH! We are here to document nature, not be chased by it! Alderman, focus!"

I took a slow breath. Fine. I could do this. I peeked over the boulder, spotting the bird settling back in its nest. Good. No more death threats.

"Okay," I said. "Everyone stay silent this time. No sudden moves. No distractions. No—"

Ethan casually tapped my shoulder. "Hey, what’s that crawling on your shoe?"

I looked down.

I regretted everything.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!"

I flung my shoe off so fast it could have qualified as a sports event. A small, very ugly creature—a cross between a centipede and a very unfortunate spaghetti noodle—flopped onto the ground and scurried away.

Max clutched his chest dramatically. "Clark, that was the most athletic thing I’ve ever seen you do. I’m so proud."

"Shut up, Max."

Joy, of course, was recording the entire thing. "Clark, you’re so brave," she deadpanned.

"Shut up, Joy."

Mr. Dax pinched the bridge of his nose like he was seriously reconsidering his career choices. "For the last time, FOCUS!"

I sighed, picking up my camera again. I adjusted the lens, zoomed in on the bird, and finally, finally started filming properly.

"This is the rare Triocular Crestwing," I narrated, keeping my voice steady. "A highly territorial species known for its iridescent plumage and its three eyes, which allow it to spot potential threats from multiple angles—"

"Like us," Ethan murmured.

I glared at him.

He grinned.

I forced myself to ignore him, continuing. "It is known to nest in high-altitude environments, preferring—"

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