According to the Shrink Program, shrinking young trouble makers to the size of a toothpick isn't actually punishment.
Nooo, the intense, horrible torture that is every second of our shrunken lives is, in fact, rehabilitation.
That being said, the Shrink program goes to a lot of trouble to ensure that its shrunken members are safe and comfortable.
They provide us with special equipment, like the jump boots and grip gloves, so that we are still relatively mobile.
They shrink down personal items such as clothing and other things that we might need in a shrunken state.
They even give us a doll size apartment with running water and electricity, which I had refused to even step foot in because I'm resentful of the fact that these people had shrunk me against my will.
And, If you didn't already have a mobile phone, the Shrink Program would provide you with one, because people must be able to call for help in an emergency.
So while Alex picked the lock of my jar, I played PAC Man on my new phone.
Being stuck in a lolly jar was technically an emergency, after all. Therefore, all phone use was completely justified.
To tell the truth, it had taken minutes of device exploring to even discover that I had PAC Man on this thing.
Technology and I weren't exactly on good terms with one another.
Technology was like the popular kid, up to date with everything and all-knowing.
I was the humble caveman, whose fingers were far too manly for little buttons.
It was safe to say that technology and I had our differences, but in this beautiful world of love and tolerance, there was PAC Man.
A dull click came from above me, and a second later, the lid of my jar began to open.
Freedom. Plain and simple.
I sent one last glance at the screen of my phone, where my cheerful little PAC Man was being devoured by a ghost.
Technology is such an ass.
Turning it off and stuffing the phone back into my pocket, I jumped with my boots, grabbing on to the rim with my grip gloves. With the grace of a slightly tipsy turtle, pulled myself out of the jar.
"Thank God you got this open in time. I was seriously beginning to go insane." I explained, jumping off the jar and onto Alex's leg, ignoring the fact that I was technically in his lap.
"Did you really need five minutes to pick a lock? They seem to do it much quicker on T.V."
"Of course not, you brat," Alex muttered, putting his tools back into his bag where it sat beside him on the fountain. "I actually finished four minutes ago, and I have been keeping you locked in there so that I could continue my sick hobby of picking already open locks."
"I thought it seemed suspicious." I scowled, and Alex rolled his eyes.
I sent a glare at the jar. "Do you think I should keep this thing as a souvenir?"
"Do what you like," Alex muttered again, causing me to glare at him in concern... It's a delinquent thing.
"What's wrong with you?" I demanded harshly. "You're acting more sour than usual."
Alex wouldn't meet my eyes. When he spoke, I couldn't help feeling like he was changing the subject.
"This group that attacked you and Nigel are crossing too many lines." His face twisted with dislike. "With them. Attacking us outside of school, I think we have no choice but to call a meeting on the Hill."
I paled, suddenly feeling faint.
"As in, all five of us gather on the Hill. All together at the same time, trying to have an intelligent discussion...? Together?"
Alex nodded soberly. "Hopefully it will work out better than last time."
"I nearly died last time!"
"I apologised for that. "
"He's going to be there!"
"That is an unavoidable hazard."
"They..."
"It will have to wait," Vain said, appearing from around the water fountain with no warning and scaring the hell out of me.
I glared at him, not liking the way he had appeared out of seemingly nowhere.
If he kept it up, combined with his washed-out completion and cold red eyes, people might actually mistake him for a ghost one day.
Before I could tell him to go put a bell on or something, Vain finished his statement.
"Nigel is being sent to the hospital."