Page 77 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I found my head resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

He just let it happen.

And for the first time in a long time, I let the moment take over.

Chapter 23: Documentary Gone Wrong

Day Four:

By some miracle—or perhaps sheer luck—we had survived the first three days of our so-called documentary journey. No one had been eaten by wild animals, fallen off a cliff, or gotten lost in a dimension where intelligent decisions were mandatory. But the real challenge came on day three when we actually had to do what we were here for: document nature. Or else the trip would be terminated.

Mr. Dax, still blissfully unaware that half of us had been sneaking out every night, announced that we’d be spending the day in Whispering Thicket, a dense woodland famous for its massive trees, weird glowing mushrooms, and absolutely terrifying silence. Somewhat like the forest from the other day but with different species.

"Ah yes," Joy said as we stepped into the woods, arms stretched out dramatically. "Nature. So peaceful. So quiet. So full of unknown dangers waiting to murder us."

"You just had to say it," Shun muttered.

Ethan, standing way too close to me as usual, smirked. "Relax. If anything does attack us, Ghost boy here will probably be the first to go."

"Why me?" I frowned.

"You're small, slow, and your survival instincts are questionable at best."

"That’s—" I paused. "Okay, fair."

Mia set up her camera while Fred wandered in circles, muttering about “perfect lighting” like we were shooting a Hollywood blockbuster. Meanwhile, the jocks—being led by Max—treated the assignment like a summer camp free-for-all: climbing trees, chucking rocks into bushes, and nearly breaking a limb every five minutes.

We were so getting a failing grade.

At first, things ran semi-smoothly. Joy, armed with the confidence of someone wildly unqualified to host a nature documentary, grabbed the camera from Mia and launched into the script I’d written—as if she were broadcasting live from some elite wildlife network. Honestly, I was just relieved. She'd taken the spotlight, and all I had to do now was stand back and suppress the screaming perfectionist inside me.

"Here we have the mystical glowing mushrooms," Joy whispered dramatically, zooming in on the neon fungi. "Do they grant powers? Cause hallucinations? Explode when touched? Nobody knows. But we—"

Fred leaned in, squinting. "Wait, are they moving?"

The mushrooms wiggled.

Then they jumped.

Fred screamed. Joy screamed. Max threw a rock at them, making them glow even brighter.

"Why would you throw something?!" I yelled.

"You always throw something!"

"That’s not how science works!"

Meanwhile, Ethan just stood there laughing. Laughing.

In the end, we did not get footage of the glowing mushrooms—just footage of us running away while Mia tried to salvage the camera.

Later, we attempted to document the rare silver-striped dusk beetles, a species known for glowing faintly under the moonlight. The plan? Simple. Set up the camera, stay quiet, and wait.

The execution? A complete disaster.

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