Ficly

Not Quite So Ficticous

Tessa’s glare turned into a bit of a smirk. Perry was a dear friend, always had the best of intentions, but his timing always seemed a bit off. However, he always managed to redeem himself.
“I’ll see if anybody’s passing through,” said Connie, turning back to the workbench. “Perry, grab your Guide & help Tess find a good towel.”
“Guide?” Tessa wondered aloud as they climbed the stairs.
“Yep.” Perry snatched his satchel, with the p^3 etched into the corner. He rummaged through it a moment, then paused to look at Tessa. “You remember how the 3 of us met?”
“Course; first week at school we literally bumped into each other in library, & found out we were all looking for the same book.”
“You remember which book?”
Tessa cocked an eyebrow with a suspicious smile. “What are you getting at, Perry P. Phineas?”
He returned her smile, pulling out a thin tablet. “There’s more truth to that book than folks think,” he said, showing her the tablet’s cover: the phrase DON’T PANIC in large, battered, but friendly letters.

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