Jeff graduates. And so does everyone else...except Annie, who has some more semesters to finish after switching her major. It's a lonely life when everyone else moves on.
This was the crucial part. Any small movement, any nervous tick, and the entire project would be a wasted thirteen days of filing, sanding, and gluing. Though, admittedly, the aroma of rubber cement made everything not quite such a wasted effort.
Dean Pelton put pressure on the tweezers. He lifted up a tiny decal and dipped it in a small jar full of water for fifteen seconds while he hummed "Bad Romance." With a little "oh," he pulled the backing gingerly off the back of the decal. Then he placed the sticky film on the wing of his silver model plane.
"There you go," he said happily. "Our first little mark of authenticity. Fantastic."
Dean Pelton was into model planes now. He wore an aviator's cap with goggles and a disturbingly open bomber jacket.
He glanced at the plane. He blinked his eyes. "Oh," he said. "Maybe just once." He held the plane in his hand, twirled the propeller, then began swooping it up and down making sputtering sounds.
There was a knock at his door frame. It was his second favorite Greendale student, Annie Edison. He nearly dropped the plane, but managed to set it on his desk carefully.
"Come on in, Ms. Edison!" the Dean said. "Don't … don't mind the mess." He pushed aside the mess on his desk, which included some ripped up newspapers, bottles of paint, and a large number of Dalmatian figurine. He flashed his smile. "Do you dare to guess who I'm deaned up as?"
Annie wasn't in the mood, but she learned quickly that if you needed to get anything done, you had to humor the Dean. She bit her lower lip. "Amelia Earhart?"
"No," said the Dean with a pleased expression. "It's America's favorite aviator Leonardo de-…. Oh. You… you might want to move your elbow. You don't…." He said, pointing at the small model plane. "It needs to dry."
Annie sighed. "Let's cut to the chase," she said, her fingers slowly walking to tiny model plane. "I've worked very hard at this school."
"That you have."
"You know that I have only two semesters left before I graduate with a degree in Forensics, don't you?"
"That's certain. I keep a very close watch on - ANNIE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Before he knew it, Annie had her hands on the model airplane, poised to snap it in half.
"What happened to all my classes, Dean?" she said menacingly. "Why did they disappear? Is it because I'm the last member of the Study Group still here? Is that what it is? Is this some crazy trick of yours to try to keep me in school forever? Are you trying to screw me like you tried to screw Jeff?"
"No!" said the Dean panickedly. "No! I would never screw you! Wait, that came out wrong. Though, technically, true. BUT... inappropriate. Annie, please put that plane down. There's a very, very simple explanation. Can we talk about this like adults, please?"
Annie sighed, placing the plane back down. "I'm … I'm sorry," she said. "I snapped. It's just frustrating being alone here. It's just… when everyone was here, I just wanted to stay forever. But now that they've all moved on…."
"I know," said the Dean, smiling. "I miss them, too. Well. Let's start from the beginning. Do you remember when Dean Spreck tried to fill the school up with sharks?"
He never thought he'd be back here again. Three months ago, Jeff Winger had returned to Greendale. He strolled up the quad, looking left and right at the familiar buildings. There was the alternate science hall to his left. The EMG Hall to the right. Up ahead was the familiar sight of Borchert Hall, and beyond that ... the library, where, six moths ago, he'd said his goodbyes to the group once known as Spanish Study Group, later the Study Group, and sometimes as the Greendale Seven.
He looked around and recognized no one. Where was Star-Burns? Oh, right. Magnitude, Neil, Garrett, and Vicki. They were gone, too. But... alive, for all he knew. Who were all these young people?
"You auditioning to replace the Luis Guzman statue?" said a gruff, familiar voice.
"Shut up, Leonard," said Jeff. "I saw your new v-log. No one cares about Pokemon anymore. How long do you plan to keep this up?"
"There are 650 species in the Pokedex. Try to keep up," Leonard said with a grin.
Jeff entered the study room. It was empty. He ran his hand across the table. Yup, there was the spot he once chopped with an axe. The repair job was pretty expert. He bent down. Yup, there it was. "AB MENTIONS." Total tally: 84.
"I though I'd find you here, Winger," said a familiar, weaselly voice.
Jeff straightened up. "Of course you would," he said. "I texted you to meet me here, remember? So do you have it?"
The small man nodded. He pulled a Manila folder from the back of his pants. Jeff grimaced. "Do you ... really expect me to take that?"
"Just open the envelope, Winger. It's everything you asked for. You know me, bro, I'm a double agent. Double crosses, triple crosses, whatever, I'm game. This is all the evidence you need to win your case, man. Do we have a deal?"
Jeff withdrew the photographs, regarding them solemnly. Images of tunnels. Excavation equipment. And a tank full of sharks. "This is so, so stupid," he said. "God, I missed this place. Alright, we have a deal. I'll arrange with the Dean to have your records wiped clean. You just... stay out of sight, OK?"
"Chang's honor," said the strange little man, flashing a crooked smile. He took a running start and disappeared through the air vents.
Jeff straightened the pictures. He'd considered returning them to the Manila envelope, but then checked himself. That thing should be burned. He then slowly came to the realization that there was someone else in the room with him. He turned his head.
"Milady."
"Long time, no see," said Annie, her arms crossed. She regarded him with steely eyes.
"Well, you know, since I can't get back into my old law firm, it's been pretty tough getting cases around here. I've had to travel a lot."
Annie sized him up. She Approached him slowly, swaying her shoulders threateningly. (Or so she thought. Jeff actually thought it was a little comical... and adorable.). She was now inches away from his chest. She craned her neck to look up at his face, their eyes locked. "And what brings you here?"
"Oh, you know," Jeff said, his voice cracking slightly. "A favor for the dean. He asked me to look into some things. Um, stupid things."
After a few seconds, the broke their gaze, Annie's face broke into a smile as she wrapped her arms around Jeff's waist. Jeff let out a puff of air in nervous relief. His free arm drifted through Annie's dark brown hair, cradling her head.
"Thanks for the text," said Annie.