the new york experiANTs

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"I can't believe Mr. Grundy flew us to New York in his private jet!" Lexi gushed. "It was awesome. Except for the crying baby."

"Hey, my ears were clogged up," Fletcher snapped.

I rubbed his shoulder for assurance.

"Everyone! Welcome to the grand opening of my flagship Z-Store!" Mr. Grundy announced. "First, the ceremonial ribbon-cutting. Where are my comically large scissors?"

Chyna pulled them out. "Sorry. I used them to make these comically large paper dolls."

"You're a doll," Fletcher whispered to me, making me blush.

"Okay, everyone. One, two, zee!" We walked away, but Mr. Grundy stopped us. "Where are you going? It's a workday!"

"What? We have to work here?" Lexi was handed a t-shirt. "And wear ugly shirts?"

"Yes. Why pay employees when I can make my students unpaid interns?" Mr. Grundy questioned. "Welcome to the Z-Store! Where you will be zelling all of my ztuff with a zmile!"

"Zorry. Zee ya, zucker!"

~~~

Fletcher and Olive found an art museum, so they explored that with their freedom. I didn't have freedom. Fletcher promised to send me pictures, and I always answered when he needed me.

I barely paid attention to my surroundings as I cleaned and made sure everything was stocked. Chyna was dealing with a loiterer outside. Mr. Grundy was trying to get into a rap battle with the dude.

~~~

Fletcher:
Picture

Me:
WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Fletcher:
It's a great work of art.
You are a work of art.
And we wanted my work to be hung in the museum.

Me:
I need to come up with a nickname for you two. The Terrible Two? The Troubled Two?
The Troubled Two sounds better.

Fletcher:
Relax. I actually have exciting and maybe sad news.

~~~

"(Y/n), get out here!"

"Yeah?" I said as Chyna played some music.

Hudson, Chyna and I danced and sang to the music. I showed Hudson that doing a little freestyle was okay. And he showed me a couple of his skills. He was a rap prodigy. No doubt about it.

I went back into the store, some of the other Ants looking at me for help.

~~~

"Hey, guys! Did we miss anything?" Olive asked as the two walked into the store.

"Chyna sang a song."

"(Y/n) danced."

"And Angus was dressed like a bear."

"So, no?" Olive questioned.

"No." I shook my head.

"Fletcher!"

"Oh, no. It's the museum curator," Fletcher said. He hid behind me fearfully. "She probably figured out that my wall damage wasn't really art."

"Fletcher, I've been going through your portfolio online. Your artwork is astounding!" the curator gushed. "I'd like you to be the museum's artist-in-residence."

"Artist-in-residence?" Fletcher paused. "Wait. Is this a trick to get me to paint your house?"

"No. It's a very prestigious fellowship. We want you to move to New York."

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"See ya!"

"You'd have the rare opportunity to work with the world's greatest artists. We've never offered this to a teenager before."

"Wow!" Fletcher had stars in his eyes. He was happy. "What an incredible offer. I'm flattered. But I'm going to have to pass."

"What? Why?" the curator questioned.

"My life is in California with my family and friends. And most of all, the girl that I love." Fletcher looked at me.

"Do it," I blurted.

"What?" Fletcher stared at me.

"Do it. I'll be here," I assured him.

~~~

"So, you're really not coming back to the Ant Farm with us?" Chyna asked sadly.

"Look, it's an incredible opportunity. And even my parents said I should go. I'm going to be living in Brooklyn with my Grandma Dottie," Fletcher explained.

Angus stepped forward. "Fletcher, not only are you my best friend, but I've loved being your roommates with you this past year. And if you ever decide New York isn't for you, our room will always be there." The two hugged. "Of course, your bed will be gone and replaced with a soft pretzel machine."

"I know. You did that two months ago," Fletcher reminded him.

"Fletcher?" Lexi made him turn to face her. "You and I never got to know each other that well back at school. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome?" Fletcher questioned. He turned to look at me. He stared into my eyes. "I don't care where I am. You're always going to be my girl."

I smiled. Grandma Dottie was approaching us. "You got your sketchbook?"

"Yep."

"ZPad and Phone?"

"Yes."

"And the pencils I got you?"

"Ye—Wait, that was you?" Fletcher hugged me again. Those pencils meant a lot to him, and he's made some pretty great drawings with them. I couldn't wait to see what they did when they were in the hands of an artist-in-residence. "Thank you. Thank you for being there. I love you."

Small tears were rolling down my cheeks, even though I forced myself to look normal. Fletcher wiped one away with his thumb. "I love you too, Fletcher."

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