The next day, I got to school very punctually. It was Friday, so I would have tests or quizzes in most of my classes. Finny probably wouldn't show up at all, knowing him, I had decided.

After getting some things out of my locker, I headed to art class, which was first. Surprisingly, Finny was already there, waiting for me. He was so unpredictable, it scared me.

"Have a good sleep?" he asked me, with a big grin.

"It was just fine," I replied, gruffly. I gave him an odd look. "What bringeth thou to ye olde school so early this morrow?"

"Phineas doth not understand thy olde English, Master Gene," he replied a playful tone.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at him. "Are you still planning on handing in your hand painting to Ms. Stephen?"

He proudly held up his finished drawing. It was actually pretty good. It showed a lot of shadow and good brush strokes. Of course. Finny DID draw it, after all. "Yes, I am," he responded.

"Oh-kay, it's YOUR funeral, not mine," I murmured. (FORESHADOWINGNESS!)

Ms. Stephen strolled up to our table, her hands resting behind her back. She leered at Finny. "Well, I gave you an extra day," she said. "Now, where's my painting?"

"Well, it's actually MY painting," Finny said, testing Ms. Stephens' patience. He held up the painting of his hand so she could see it. "Ta-da!"

I waited for him to get yelled at or suspended. At least an F on the project. He received none of it.

Ms. Stephen calmly stared at the painting. "I did indeed tell all of you to be creative," she mused. "This is the most creative bowl of fruit I've ever seen." She laughed, shallowly. "You pass." The art teacher moved on to the next table.

I gaped, mesmerized at Finny and his drawing. Finny was beaming. He was happy that he passed, not caring about the grade at all. He was so carefree, so content, so perfect. He may not have been as smart as I was, but he was still so much happier. Nothing could ever hurt him or affect him. He was like an ancient Roman god. Strong and powerful, untouchable to man.

Finny caught my gaze. "What's up?" He smiled. "I didn't think the painting was THAT good."

I shook my head. I had received an A+ on my painting. Finny had barely passed. Why was it upsetting me this much?

I was relieved to have the next block without Finny. I didn't know if my conscience would leave me alone if I had to see his cheerful face staring at me, and haunting me.

After second block, I still felt as if I couldn't face him. I called my mom and told her that I was sick. She picked me up and I spent the rest of the weekend in peace. Whenever Finny called, my mom would tell him that I wasn't feeling well. I just couldn't seem to shake off the feeling that Finny was perfect. So much better than I could ever be.

Phineas was like a brother to me and he always had been. He always came up with crazy ideas that sounded like trouble, but were always a lot of fun. He had gotten me out of trouble more times than I'd like to know about. I knew in a single moment in time that he was betraying me; he was trying to destroy my chances of getting into a good college and making something of myself. He was jealous of my brains, and was trying to sabotage my learning processes. He was good at sports, not knowledge, and wanted to make sure that no one could be better at anything than he was.