Twisted Legacy (This is a working title)

Back to the present as we know it...To School or Not To School

"Hey, Trish! What's a school like?"

"Boring," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Really?"

"I wouldn't really know. Most of the time, I have lessons away from the other classes. And I'm always being given tests. I think?"

"Oh! You are a prodigy and a genius. That kind of stuff must bore you to tears!"

"Are you mocking me? Prodigy and genius? My foot."

"Not just your foot, actually your whole being. And I'm not mocking you," George replied, looking at Tricia with wide, innocent eyes like a puppy begging for attention.

"George, those puppy eyes won't sway me," Tricia said, trying to maintain her serious demeanor while stifling a grin.

"Even if I headlock you?"

The mere thought of being headlocked by George sent shivers down Tricia's spine. After all, George was a whirlwind of energy and even mastered Krav Maga for self-defense at an early age.. Without a second thought, Tricia bolted from her seat.

"Hey! Where are you going? I'm just kidding! I don't have the strength for anything physical right now. Promise, no head locking!"

"You swear?"

"Yeah! I swear, even on my mom's grave, even though I don't know where that is."

"You're crazy," Tricia said, but to ease the tension, she suddenly lunged forward, tickling George until they both collapsed in a fit of laughter and breathless.

"Seriously, Trish, I'd give anything to experience school," George said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

"If I'm bored to death being cooped up in a four-walled space, you would have kicked the bucket ages ago. Hahahaha!"

"Very funny, but you do have a point. Boredom is the death of me. Wahahaha!" Their laughter echoed, but as it faded, a serious silence enveloped them.

"It's just so weird that I'm breezing through school," George finally said with a reflective tone.

"What's so surprising about that? You could read at two and become a hacker at four. Assembling computers and creating codes got boring for you, so you turned to customizing cars—which, by the way, are all super sick and let you earn a ton. I still love the Mustang you gave me when we first met... and now that we're fifteen and seventeen, George the Genius already has several PhDs in your pocket. Do I need to mention..."

George abruptly cut her off, raising a hand. "Can I attend just for a day or two, please? I promise I'll behave. I won't bother you, and I'll make sure to be unnoticed. Please. Please. Please."

"It's not for me to decide. Also, I'm attending not to study but to inspect the school," Tricia replied, crossing her arms.

"So you're going in like an emissary? "

"Yup."

"Those old farts."

"Hey, you're talking about the people I work for!"

"Of course not. You don't work for them; I lent you to them," George shot back playfully.

"Yes, you did, since you won't commit to them."

George felt a familiar uneasiness at the mention of Tricias' bosses. It always dampens the mood whenever the subject arises.

Before the air grew too tense, Ian, unable to resist eavesdropping, chimed in. "What is it I hear about someone wanting to go to school?"

"Holy guacamole!" George yelped, nearly toppling over at the surprise.

"Are you eavesdropping, Dad?"

"You have no proof. Besides, I could hear your voices down the hall, begging Tricia to take you with her," Ian said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Tricia stuck her tongue out at George, relishing the moment.

"Well, Tricia, what do you say? Will you let George tag along?"

"Do I have a choice?" she shot back, feigning annoyance.

"Please, please, oh pretty Trish. I'll behave and not even say a word. I'll be like a ghost, like every time I'm with you," George pleaded.

"That's the problem—you freak people out," Tricia retorted, unable to suppress a smirk.

"I can't help it if I'm a master of stealth," George replied, confidently puffing and huffing. But then, making finger hearts and motioning them towards Tricia.

"You are annoyingly cute. Okay, fine, you can go. But I have a condition,"

"Lay it out, oh dear Trish," George said, her excitement palpable.

"If I have to do something for the old man, you're helping me," Bee stipulated.

"I was afraid you'd say something like that. But I will swallow my pride and say yes to your condition," George agreed reluctantly.

"So, it's settled then! George, go visit Grumpy Gramps, please. You know he misses you," Ian interjected, giving George a knowing look.

The mention of Old Man George brought a mischievous smile to George's face showing that visiting is not an option.