A/N: To explain a conversation in this story, it's based in Montana. :)
Mike approached the park happily, looking for his friend, "Phil?" He called. There was no reply, "Phiiil?" Phillip approached the park, head low and face stained with tears. "Phil?" Mike blinked.
"I'm sorry." Phil sniffled.
"What are you sorry for?" Mike cocked his head.
"Um, well, Gabe..." He unzipped his bag, reaching in and retrieving a bit of deflated rubber. He handed it to Mike, the string hanging loosely from the limp balloon.
"You killed him!" Mike shrieked.
"I didn't mean to! I woke and he was like that." Phil's eyes lowered back o the ground.
"How could you?" His friend gasped.
"I'm really sorry," the boy whined, "I didn't mean to."
Mike stood in disbelief, staring at the lifeless body of his balloon. He gripped it tightly with his small hand and shoved it into his bag. "You're not coming to he funeral." He said seriously, an angered tone in his voice.
"He was my friend, too." Phil snapped.
"You should have thought about that before you killed him!" Mike grimaced, running from the other boy.
"Mike, wait!" Phil chased him. He followed him half way to the school running, but gave up and walked, defeated. When he reached the school and his classroom, he sat next to Mike, who gave a huff and looked away from the boy. "I'm really sorry." Phil whispered.
"I still blame you." Mike growled.
"I miss Gabe." Phil sniffled.
Mike felt bad for him, for a moment. Phil had betrayed him, but for some reason, a part of him wanted to forgive his friend. "Phil?"
"Yeah?" Phil was holding back tears now.
"Did you kill Gabe?" His friend asked sympathetically.
"No." He mumbled sadly.
"I'm sorry for getting mad at you. You can come to the funeral later."
"Okay. Thank you, Mike."
"We're still friends, right?"
"Of course." Phil looked at him seriously.
Mike smiled lightly. His friend smiled back, and Orton began his lesson. "We're going to the library so you can each pick out a book about the animal you're going to write about." A boy in the back raised his hand, and waving it so hard he almost fell out of his seat, "No, Zack, for the last time, you can't write about unicorns."
"Aw, man!" He sunk back in his desk chair, crossing his arms.
"Come on, class." Orton stood up and ordered the children into a line before leading them across the hall to the library. "Please find books about your animals, check them out, and report back to me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask mister McIntyre."
Mike and Phil approached the desk at the back of the library and mister McIntyre looked up, "Yes?"
"I'm looking for a book on blood-thirsty giraffes." Mike smiled innocently.
"Er...I just want one on tigers. Normal tigers." Phil blinked.
"Right this way." McIntyre sighed, getting up from his seat and leading the boys to a corner of shelves labeled "animals".
"You have an accent, are you from Canada?" Mike asked.
"No, actually, I'm from-" Mister McIntyre started.
"One year, for vacation we went to Canada and it took like thirty hours!" Mike blinked.
"Actually, Canada's only four hours from here." McIntyre corrected.
"It was like sixty days!"
"You just said forty hours."
"Ten months of no food and water in the car up to Canada! Over seas!" Mike flailed his arms.
McIntyre sighed, "Michael-"
"I swear, it took five years!" He blinked, stretching out his arms to indicate the time gap.
"You're seven," Phil looked at him, "and we were in Kindergarten together."
"I've only been out of that car for four years of my entire life." Mike said seriously.
Mister McIntyre took a deep breath, "Do you need anything else?"
"Yeah, um," Mike pulled a book off of the shelf, "Miss McIntyre, you've got bad books."
The man rolled his eyes, "Bad?"
"They're not right." Mike pointed out, showing the cover of the book, a photo giraffe delicately grazing from leaves in a treetop was on the cover. "Giraffes don't do that. They eat people and burn down villages."
McIntyre shut his eyes, "You're saying that these books are inaccurate because the giraffes aren't eating...people?"
"Yes, Miss McIntyre." Mike said.
"MISTER McIntyre." He corrected.
"You're not a very good library lady if the books have the wrong pictures." Mike said seriously. Mister McIntyre was red by this point, huffing and walking toward his desk. He sat down and gripped the corners of the desk.
"Mister McIntyre?" Orton approached him.
"Mike...book...child...irritating...giraffes!" He could barely get the words out in rage.
"I know how you feel." Orton said sympathetically.
"How do you put up with him?" Miser McIntyre blinked.
"I go home, and I watch 'Jaws'." Orton said.
Mike and Phil approached the desk, setting their books down. "Even if these books are wrong, maybe some of the stuff is right." Mike smiled. Drew McIntyre silently scanned the books and handed them back to the boys.
The children and Orton made it back to the classroom after twenty minutes. They started writing their papers about the animals. Phil glanced over at Mike who was forcing the pencil into the paper so hard it was crumbling. He whispered, "Pew, pew, rawr, grrrrr" and similar things.
The students finished just before the recess bell. "I'll have your paper's graded by the time you get back." Orton smiled. The children ran out excitedly.
Mike and Phil wandered to one of the farthest corners of the playground, near the school's old play equipment which had been left up, even as the new equipment was built. Mike climbed up the equipment and sat on the edge of it, beside the slide. Phil followed and sat next to him. They talked and played tag for a short while before they were bored of it. The bell sounded and they hurried back inside, somewhat eager for the results of their reports.
Mister Orton didn't seem pleased. As he walked around the class room, he stood in front of the desks and told the children how they did. He handed Phil his paper, "You did very well, Phillip. Thank you for putting forth effort." He said somewhat blandly. He walked past him to give Zack his paper back, "Zack, I asked you not to write about unicorns. That included comparing unicorns to your animal."
"But unicorns are so much cooler than penguins!" Zack protested.
Orton rolled his eyes, "At least you discussed your animal." He walked back to Mike, handing him a paper, and looking very unhappy. "Your information was incorrect and inappropriate. The drawings added were disturbing, to say the least. Michael, I'm going to call your mother about your paper. This is unacceptable, and I know you can do better."
Phil leaned over to see half of a page of writing, and under it drawings of giraffes breathing fire on cities, holding guns, shooting stick figures, and eating their bodies. There were blobs on the ground, being licked up by some of the giraffes, with an arrow pointing to the strange puddle-like drawings labeled "souls".
Mike and Phil walked home together, stopping at the park. They dug up a little bit of the ground with their hands and placed the balloon in a small hole, burying it. Mike sniffled, "Gabe, you were a good balloon, and a good friend." Phil nodded in agreement, also sniffling and holding back tears.
"I promise I'll always remember you, Gabe." Phil cried. They collected small flowers, weeds, and tall grasses from the park, placing them on top of the balloon grave.
"We'll always be friends." Mike said to the buried balloon, before both boys got up and walked home.
A/N: As a side note: burying balloons is bad for the earth. I do not support it. Thank you. :) No balloons were harmed in the writing of this fanfiction.