The Brob Girl Ch 35: The Things to Promise!

I knelt on the smooth, wooden surface of the table, my head bowed low. I didn't dare look up. The weight of their presence was crushing. Two massive shadows stretched over me, cast by the towering forms of Abbie and Monica. I could hear the faint creak of Abbie shifting her weight, the sound of her hand brushing against her jeans. I could even feel her breathing—a rhythmic rush of air so deep and powerful it made the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end.

"Michael..."

Her voice rumbled softly above me, not angry but still carrying a heaviness that made my stomach churn. For a second, I didn't know if I should look up or stay exactly where I was. But the calmness in her tone drew my gaze. Slowly, I lifted my head.

That's when I saw her face.

Abbie wasn't mad. Her big, round eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her lip quivered ever so slightly. She wasn't yelling, and she wasn't scolding me. She was scared—or maybe relieved. Either way, it broke something in me.

If I felt bad before, seeing her like that made me feel absolutely horrible.

She sniffed, and her voice cracked as she suddenly burst out, "Thank goodness you're okay!"

The force of her words hit me like a gust of wind. Literally. I flailed, losing my balance, and toppled backward onto the table. I landed flat on my back, staring up at her enormous face looming above me.

"You are okay, aren't you?" she asked, leaning in close. Her face rushed toward me like a building collapsing in slow motion.

Out of reflex, I threw my arms up in front of me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I yelled, my voice squeaking in comparison to hers.

Monica's voice cut in sharply. "Abbie, calm down! You're going to scare him!"

Abbie froze, her lips parting slightly as if she was about to argue. But then she pulled back, her massive body retreating just enough to give me room to breathe.

I sat up, rubbing the back of my head. "I'm fine," I muttered, though my heart was still racing.

Monica's sharp eyes landed on me next. She crossed her arms, her towering form somehow more intimidating than Abbie's. "Michael," she said, her tone even but firm, "what were you thinking? How on earth did you end up in Abbie's ear of all places?"

I sighed, knowing there was no easy way out of this one. "Okay, so... I may have, uh, built something."

Monica arched an eyebrow. "Built something?"

"Yeah." I scratched the back of my neck, avoiding their stares. "I, uh, kind of made a small helicopter backpack out of parts from the bed you guys gave me."

Abbie blinked, her expression shifting from concern to confusion. "A helicopter backpack?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly at the end.

"Yeah. It wasn't perfect," I admitted quickly, holding up my hands. "Still had some kinks to work out. But I wanted to test it, so I, uh... decided to take it for a spin."

Monica groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Of course you did."

I hesitated. There was no way I was telling them about the blueprints I'd been seeing—or the mysterious "eye" in my vision that guided me. That was a rabbit hole I wasn't ready to go down yet.

Monica glanced over at Abbie, who was still processing what I'd just said. "Well," Monica said, letting out a long sigh, "I guess the rumors about Lilliputians are true."

"What rumors?" I asked, a little suspicious.

"That you all have these crazy scientific minds," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Turning bed parts into a helicopter? That's impressive, Michael. Reckless, but impressive."

I felt a flicker of pride, but it was quickly snuffed out by what she said next.

"Still," Monica continued, her tone turning serious, "you should've known better. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could've been hurt—or worse."

I frowned, crossing my arms. "I'm not a child, Monica."

She raised an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to say that again. "Maybe not," she said, leaning in slightly, "but you're living in Brobdingnag now. Everything here is a hundred times bigger than you. One crumb from Abbie's toast could crush you. Do you get that? Do you understand how dangerous this world is for someone your size?"

I looked down at the table, feeling her words sink in.

Monica softened her tone, crouching down slightly so that she was closer to eye level with me. "Look, Michael, I'm not saying you can't experiment or invent things. Honestly, it's amazing what you can do. But from now on, if you want to test something, you need to let one of us know first. Promise us that, okay?"

I hesitated. On one hand, I didn't like the idea of having to "ask permission" like some kid. But on the other hand, I'd already scared Abbie half to death—and probably Monica, too. The last thing I wanted was to hurt them any more than I already had.

"Okay," I said finally. "I promise."

Monica straightened up, satisfied. "Good."

Abbie sniffled again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her other hand was resting on the table, her massive fingers splayed out nearby. I hesitated, then stood up and walked toward her hand.

It was enormous, even compared to me, but it didn't feel threatening. If anything, it was comforting in a strange way. I reached out and placed my hand on the side of one of her fingers.

"Abbie," I said, looking up at her tear-streaked face, "I promise, okay? I won't do anything like that again without telling you."

She blinked down at me, her lips curving into a small, shaky smile. "Okay," she said softly.

Her finger twitched slightly under my touch, and for a moment, I thought she might pull her hand away. But she didn't. Instead, she just smiled, and I could feel some of the tension in the room begin to fade.

"Well," Monica said, breaking the silence, "I guess that's settled. But seriously, Michael, no more stunts like that, okay?"

I nodded, still feeling the warmth of Abbie's finger under my hand. "Yeah," I said. "No more stunts."

For now, at least.