Squeak

by Vera Valentine

While I hadn’t done anything truly stupid - felony-level stupid, anyway - in my life, no one could accuse me on not being impulsive at inopportune times.

How could my tongue be simultaneously stuck to both the bottom and the roof of my mouth?

Was it hot in here? It felt hot in here. My stupid goddamn fitness watch buzzed again and I tore it off and chucked it into a box of rulers. Fucking snitch.

Both Keane and I learned something in that moment. Humans certainly weren’t meant to be filled with helium, but could be with enough determination. And if you filled them with enough helium, they’d literally float away until they became the airless stratosphere’s problem, rather than the earth’s.