Bless You

[8.] big shirts are comfy

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EDITED

Her eyes illuminated through the darkness. She stepped. Carefully, steadily, silently; she moved like a shadow. Ears perked, eyes peering. Watching, listening.

"We look stupid."

Brynn's voice interrupted my third-person commentary.

I looked down at my black Adidas pants and black hoodie, and pulled the hood over my hair, accidentally rubbing the black paint on my face in the process. I looked at Brynn, who's black clothes complimented her dark skin tone. Her black hood was over her head, yet I could still see dark curly wisps stick onto the black paint on her cheeks.

"Shut up. We look awesome," I said, peeking around the corner of the hallway, focusing my eyes on Brynn's locker.

Brynn sighed and joined me reluctantly.

I held an imaginary walkie-talkie to my mouth. "Eyes on a clear hallway with no students or teachers, over."

She raised her eyebrow at me. Then, she sighed again and raised her own imaginary walkie-talkie. "Roger that."

I grinned at her. This morning, I texted her to join me on the 'great expedition on finding the mysterious poetry guy person thing' by spying her locker during lunch break and wearing spy-ish looking clothes.

This was her response.

B: No.

Me: Please?

B: No.

Me: I'll buy you lunch...

B: Yes.

Food always works.

I looked around the corner again and squinted into the distance. "Wait. Someone's coming, over."

"Copy."

We stared at the oncoming figure. When he was close enough to be recognizable, my eyes widened.

Mr. Ryder, the new history teacher, strode the hallway.

I watched him closely. Mr. Ryder walked with confidence and professionalism, his tan blazer hugging his lean figure. He slowed down by the lockers and studied them carefully.

I held my breath.

The young teacher stopped by one of the lockers and his eyebrows furrowed. It was hard to see if it was Brynn's or not, but it looked close enough. Suddenly, he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out...

"What are you looking at?"

Brynn and I whirled around, my heart skipping a beat. When I saw who it was, my shoulders relaxed.

"Oh, Cal, it's just you," I said.

"Just me?" Cal pouted, but the twinkle in his eye showed he was just teasing. Then, his eyebrows drew together when he actually looked at me. "Why are you dressed like that?"

I glanced down at my clothes. "Brynn and I are doing some secret spy stuff."

Squeaks of shoes interrupted us, and all three of us poked our heads around the corner. Mr. Ryder was walking this way, so all three of us pretended to have a conversation even though we were just having one.

Mr. Ryder turned the corner, and his face morphed into a surprised look when he saw us. Then, he smiled. "Hello guys. Oh, Brynn," he said, clasping his hands together. "Loving the essay about the Middle Ages you wrote so far. Very well-written." He winked at Brynn and did a thumbs up.