<u>[Xander – 12 years]</u>


    If I adjust the runes here… yeah, there we go. Now it has the colors Luke asked for and the ability to synchronize them to music played through certain phone apps which allow external devices to access them in some ways. Or however that''s supposed to be worded, I don''t remember.


    But this flash/intensity feature is only on the additional lights, not the ones intended for signals like on a car. There''s no way I''m going to make a hoverboard that doesn''t have signal lights.


    Now that that''s done, I start preparing the gloves. Apparently, I misunderstood Grandpa Adrian about the mind magic thing. He clarified his meaning to me when he stopped by once my lessons ended today to talk with me about a few things. Apparently, it''s that mind magics on the ones for normal people isn''t a good idea, but mages from long-standing families – such as Luke''s – won''t care because they have basic mental defenses they learn and would be able to tell if something is messing with their head. Some of them even wear items which provide additional protection and send an alarm signal if the wearer''s mind is tampered with.


    Even more mage families than those will trust magitech build by a company within the Lumaria Group. If Grandpa Adrian says it''s safe to use and only uses mind magic for controlling the board, then it''ll only use mind magic for controlling the board and is safe to use.


    I texted Luke after that and asked, and he said that he''s cool with mind-based controls for the hoverboard. While I did add those in… I''m still making him gloves as well just in case.


    And now it''s done! I place the board and gloves into my backpack, then put away my tools and teleport back to the house. Rather than entering, I make my way over to Luke''s.


    Grandpa Adrian will have people building the hoverboards normally, but he''s also set things up so that I can personally build them if I want to and the customer asked for it. That gives room for a little bit more customization, though they have to sign a waiver stating that they understand that hoverboards I build may not be a finalized model and may have some issues, so any injuries they receive as a result of using it isn''t my fault.


    Or something like that.


    Luke put in an order for two hoverboards after he went home on Monday, and I found out about it before I left for bowling yesterday. Then, we talked about it today to come up with the look of the boards. Apparently, one of them is for Parker, not a spare one for Luke, so Parker told me how he wanted his as well.


    "Hello," the guard at the gate says. "Sightseeing?"


    Of course the guard doesn''t recognize me, we''ve never met before and I''m pretty unimportant.


    "No," I answer. "I live next door. Luke comes over a lot. I have something for him."


    The guard gives me a skeptical look, and his attempt at making a call to see if I''m allowed in is interrupted by the phone ringing. He answers it, and I can hear Luke''s voice on the other end.


    "Let Xander in!" Luke tells him. "Always let Xander in! He''s a cool dude!"


    My current body temperature is 96.7 degrees Fahrenheit, which is my average. That means I am not cool at all, I am perfectly warm.


    How did Luke know I was here?


    When I reach the front doors to Luke''s house, he''s opening one with Parker beside him, both of them in swim trunks and dripping wet, and I can see an older teen in the back, also in swim trunks and dripping wet.


    "Sorry for interrupting your swimming," I say. "How did you know I was here?"


    "I can feel electrical signals," Luke tells me. "Even in people, since we all have them as part of our nervous system''s. Everyone''s is kind of unique, and I''ve been around you enough that I can tell yours apart."


    Oh, so it''s like me and being able to tell who''s coming up from behind by the sound of their steps once I''ve gotten to hear them enough.


    "Okay," I pull off my backpack. "I have the hoverboards and gloves. However, Grandpa Adrian told me that I''m not allowed to give them to you until there''s confirmed receipt of the full payment. He did say I could give them to you directly instead of having them picked up by the company and then delivered that way, though."


    There''s an added fee for if I build them, but that''s not collected until I actually build them while the rest of the cost is. That way, if I decline building them, they don''t have to wait until then to pay and have their hoverboard start getting built. Or something like that. I don''t fully remember what Grandpa Adrian said.


    "Aye-aye!" He says. "Lemme go tell Mom ''bout the payment!"


    Luke suddenly begins sparking and nearly vanishes, he moves so fast.


    "Do you wanna come in?" Parker asks. "It might be a minute."


    A minute isn''t all that long.


    "I''m only here to drop off the hoverboards and gloves," I tell him. "I don''t mind waiting out here."


    "Okay," Parker says as I look to the older teen, who''s begun walking forward. "Gabe, can you please stay back?"


    "Sure?" Gabe looks confused, but takes a few more steps back. "Everything okay?"


    "Yeah," Parker looks at him. "You can go back to the pool, we won''t be too long."


    Gabe looks confused and a little annoyed, then leaves.


    "That''s a friend of Luke''s family''s," Parker tells me. "Though Luke sees him as a cousin. He''s a pretty nice guy and is staying here for a little bit. We were out back playing in the pool."


    I kind of figured about what they were doing, and my phone just pinged.


    "Is it okay if I check that?"


    "Sure," he shrugs.


    <u>[Grandpa Adrian]</u>: The payment has been completed, you can deliver the hoverboards to Luke now.


    "Grandpa Adrian just said the payment''s done," I say and a moment later, Luke returns, just as high-speed as before. "Hi, Luke."


    "Mom sent the payment!" He says. "I think. She said she was going to and did something on her phone, then I came back here."


    "Grandpa Adrian says it was completed," I open up my backpack and pull out the hoverboard for Parker and its matching gloves. "This one''s the one for Parker."


    "That looks pretty cool," Parker says as he takes it.


    "You designed it," I tell him. "I did add in mind controls so you can use it that way, but the gloves are there as well. And here''s the instruction manual, it explains how to turn on and off the mind controls and the other features for the hoverboard."


    I sort-of made the directions, but Grandpa Adrian had someone clean them up and make them look more professional.


    "Thanks," Parker accepts that, then I pull out Luke''s hoverboard, gloves, and instruction manual.


    "Do you wanna go riding with us?" Luke asks. "I wanna test this out now!"


    "I''m going somewhere," I tell him. "And aren''t you playing with Parker and Gabe?"


    "Well, yeah, but-"


    "Luke," Parker interrupts. "Xander said he''s got something else to do."


    "Alright!" Luke says. "See you tomorrow, Xander!"


    "Bye," I tell them, then leave.


    Once I''ve left, I pull out my own hoverboard and turn it on, then set it down. I pull on my pads, helmet, and gloves, then get on my hoverboard and start riding it. After about eight minutes, I receive a notification via the earpiece I put in my helmet that I''m receiving a call.


    "Call from ''Wesley Milton''," the automated voice says.


    I don''t know them, but Mr. Trey taught me what to do in case of a wrong number call. I don''t fully remember what to do, but I do remember part of it.


    "Accept call," I say. "Hello, I don''t know you so I think you''ve called the wrong number."


    "Hello," he says. "I think I might''ve, you sound like a kid. My name''s Wesley Milton, from Dream Best Entertainment, a company specializing in physical spaces for playing games. I was looking to get a hold of a Trey Caldwell."


    "Oh," I stop riding and put a foot on the ground, then pull out my phone. "I''m his foster-son. You got my number instead of his?"


    How do I do this again?


    "Looks like it," he chuckles. "We''ll have to recheck the number."


    "Yes, Xander?" Mr. Trey asks.


    "Oh, I did it right," I say. "This is a group call. I got called by someone from a company called ''Dream Best Entertainment''. He was trying to call you but apparently had my number instead."


    "Hello," Mr. Trey says. "This is Trey Caldwell speaking."


    So it''s not just for me that he answers the phone like that? I thought he answered like that because of my memory problems, then didn''t think about stopping because he was used to it.


    "I''m Wesley Milton, from Dream Best Entertainment," Mr. Milton says. "And a group call?"


    "Xander?" Mr. Trey asks.


    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"


    "You forgot to ask if you could loop me into the call."


    "Sorry!"


    "Just remember next time," he says.


    "Okay," I say. "Also… I, um… I can''t remember how to exit the call after adding another person in. Hitting hangup ends it for everyone, right?"


    "I''m fine if you stay on," Mr. Milton says. "This actually relates to you as well."


    "It does?" Mr. Trey and I ask at the same time.


    "Yes," Mr. Milton answers. "We keep an eye on young athletic streamers as their viewers can be potential future customers of ours, and Carter Martins caught our attention not long ago. One of his recent videos was one we sponsored for him to do, and his stream on Sunday was on our radar as we''re considering further sponsorships with him – something we''ve recently told him as well.


    "When we saw the stream," Mr. Milton says. "We were pretty impressed by the hoverboards and your ability to ride them. Recently, we purchased a section of ruins and have been renovating them, strengthening their structures while maintaining the ''ruins'' look. Our company mainly focuses on providing spaces for games to be played in – real-world games such as laser tag, not video games. Our goal with the new zone is to have one with a ruins theme. The intention was mainly paintball, laser tag, and the like. We also keep an eye on youth streamers who do those as well, to sometimes sponsor them if they do that."


    I really want to say that I''m none of those, but he''d probably get upset with me and this call was meant for Mr. Trey, anyway.


    "Hoverboard racing sounds kind of nice," Mr. Milton says as I pocket my phone and continue riding my hoverboard. "So we decided to keep an eye on you as well, but also in case you did other types of streams."


    I don''t think muffin baking counts as any form of game or athletic ability.


    "Something one of our employees noticed with your stream yesterday," Mr. Milton says. "Was that you never looked at anything that could be a chat, at least, not that could be seen, yet were responding to chat as you talked and worked. While it was possible there was one on a screen out of view of the cameras, it was unlikely due to your position being different many times, making it difficult to say there was a screen in view unless you had one everywhere, which would have been seen for sure by the cameras. That had us curious about your glasses, as they were a different design from the ones you wore on Sunday. Were you wearing augmented reality glasses for yesterday''s stream?"


    How should I answer? Would confirming that I was wearing AR glasses be a bad thing?


    "You can answer," Mr. Trey tells me.


    Okay, so I can just say it.


    "They were," I answer. "I made them myself so I can play games with my friends. Like, mixing a zombie shooter with laser tag. That kind of game. I''ll probably finish the basic version of the game tomorrow, if I have the time."


    "It''s AR for gaming?" He asks.


    "Yeah," I answer. "I don''t really understand games, but I know my friends find them fun and they like going to do laser tag."


    "One of the things we''ve been trying to do," he says. "Is find AR equipment that''s good for that sort of gaming – like first-person shooters. It hasn''t been easy, though, and all of the ones we''ve found so far have been too low in quality for what we want."


    "I take it this is for the new space you''re setting up?" Mr. Trey asks.


    "Yes," Mr. Milton answers. "We''re wanting a semi-real experience and most don''t quite make the cut. The sort of games we''d like to run for it don''t have much in a market due to the quality of the devices as well. You can get good AR on phones and goggles, but there''s a limit. While we normally wouldn''t ask about something a twelve-year-old made, the hoverboard gives us hope. Are there any plans to put it on the market, or is it solely for you and your friends?"


    "Mr. Trey?"


    "Yes, Xander?"


    "How do you give a business card to someone on the phone?"


    "I don''t think he''s asking for you to sell them to him now," Mr. Trey says. "Mr. Milton, I''m assuming you''re wanting a demonstration of the AR set, if possible?"


    "That is correct," Mr. Milton answers. "If they''ll be going on the market, and they''re of the quality level we''re looking for, we''ll be interested in purchasing sets for our new game field."


    "Oh," I thought he was wanting to buy them.


    Would this be something to give a business card for? Grandpa Adrian just said to give them to anyone who wants to buy stuff being sold through Xanson Technologies, but he didn''t mention if they just wanted a demonstration.


    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You are intending on making them available for sale, yes?"Stolen story; please report.


    "Yeah," I nod. "But Grandpa Adrian will probably want it to be through Xanson Technologies."


    "Xanson Technologies?" Mr. Milton asks.


    "A new company under the Lumaria Group," Mr. Trey explains. "It''s been set up to manufacture and sell magitech Xander invents – the hoverboards can already be purchased through it, and they''ll be putting puzzle spheres on the market in the next few days."


    Mr. Trey''s lawyers finished looking through the contract and he signed it, so we can officially put things up for sale. That''s why I was allowed to build the hoverboard for Luke and the one for Parker. Since the hoverboards are built to order, they''re available sooner than the puzzle spheres, which have to be manufactured in batches and then shipped to stores.


    I''m pretty sure it normally takes longer than a few days to get things on store shelves from the date they begin production, but Grandpa Adrian can probably move things along faster. He probably even owns a toy store company or three.


    "And I''m allowed to handle some discussions for things," Mr. Trey says. "Including for any demonstrations of products, to a degree. What sort of demonstration are you referring to?"


    "We''d like to see the capabilities of the AR set and a game for them," Mr. Milton answers. "To see if they fit within our vision of how we would like this game space to be used. If we like the quality, then we''ll be interested in purchasing them for use in our facility. If there''s a heavy-duty version intended for a lot of use, we would prefer the demonstration to be for those instead."


    "How heavy-duty?" I ask. "I''m designing them to be pretty sturdy so that they don''t need to be replaced as often. That way, people don''t have to pay more due to replacing them frequently."


    "That should be fine for now," Mr. Milton says. "Would it be possible to have the demonstration at our new location in Autumn Vale?"


    "Autumn Vale is about three hours away?" Mr. Trey asks. "We can do it there, if approval is given. When do you want the demonstration?"


    "By the end of the month if possible," Mr. Milton says. "Though later is acceptable if it''s not."


    "The game should be ready tomorrow," I say. "At least, the… beta version? I think that''s what it''s called. The version where it hasn''t been properly tested and might still have mistakes that need fixing."


    "If that''s acceptable," Mr. Trey says. "We can do this weekend, or we could do the one after so Xander can iron out the kinks, assuming it''s cleared by the company."


    "Mr. Trey?"


    "It''s a metaphor."


    "Oh."


    I didn''t have to ask and he couldn''t see my face. He''s getting really good at knowing what''s confusing me.


    Maybe he has psychic powers he doesn''t know about.


    "This weekend works fine," Mr. Milton says. "If that''s acceptable to both of you and the company, can we say ten on Saturday morning? Or should we push it back later?"


    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Are you okay with going over to Autumn Vale Friday afternoon and spending the weekend there to do the demonstration? Or would you prefer we leave on Saturday and come back then as well?"


    "Spending the weekend means going through Sunday?"


    "Coming back on Sunday, yes," he corrects. "The demonstration probably won''t take up all of Saturday, but there are some horse ranches out there we can look at while we''re there, which is why I''m suggesting a weekend trip."


    That''s so soon. Only two days before leaving. So soon. So soon. So soon.


    "We can go next weekend if you''d prefer," he says. "That will let you fix some of the issues with the programming for the game."


    "T-this weekend should be fine," but maybe not. It''s so soon. So soon. So soon. "Um. Autumn Vale is right by Autumn Hills, right?"


    "It is," Mr. Milton answers.


    "Okay," I say. "Mr. Trey? Can we visit Carter''s family''s ranch? They do flaremane horses and that confuses me. I want to see how that magic works. Um. If you''re okay with it. And if his family''s okay with it, too."


    "Sure," Mr. Trey says. "They''re open to the public on Saturdays, so we can go in the afternoon."


    "Okay," I say. "Then this weekend, we''re going there."


    This weekend, we''re going there. This weekend, we''re going there.


    "Have you arrived at the group yet?" Mr. Trey asks. "I think you''ve had enough time to get there."


    "I''m doing circles in the parking lot since we''re on a call."


    "Alright," he chuckles. "Let''s have you leave the call so you can head inside, I''m sure Russell''s waiting for you."


    "He''s watching me from by the front doors."


    I stop my hoverboard and put a foot on the ground, then follow the directions Mr. Trey gives so I can leave the call without ending it. Then, I put my phone back in my pocket and ride my hoverboard to the front doors, then dismount and put it, my pads, my gloves, and my helmet into my backpack.


    "Hi, Russell!" I say once I finish.


    Russell''s wearing a pair of silver-ish athletic shorts, a green sleeveless shirt, and sneakers. No backpack, which is really weird. Wouldn''t he have brought his backpack to a youth group event? I''m not familiar with how these things work but it is a youth activity.


    "Hi, Xander!" He greets me. "You ready?"


    "Almost," I pull Trenton out of my backpack, then zip my bag back up and pull it back on. "Okay, now I''m ready."


    "Come on," Russell says. "It''s this way!"


    Russell and I enter the building, which I realize is some sort of church as we go through. He leads me to a really big room he calls the Fellowship Hall, which has a basketball court for a floor and several hoops which can be lowered down, like the middle school I went to last year had. Some tables are set up near the back wall, the one we enter through a door on. Some pitchers with drinks and some cups are set out on them, but no one’s in the room.


    "This way," Russell leads me into a room just to the left of this door, on the side wall we''re beside. "Hi, guys! This is Xander, the friend I told you about. Xander, these are some of the other kids from the youth group. We''re a little early and a few more might show up."


    Everyone else introduces themselves to me; there are four more boys and three girls. All of them are in middle school, so they''re close in age to me and Russell. Then there are the two adults who supervise/run the youth group.


    "What''s your bear''s name?" Melissa, a girl who''ll be entering the seventh grade next month, asks after the others introduce themselves to me.


    "Trenton," I look down at him. "What? Really?"


    "What?" Russell asks.


    "He just said that it''s -''s place."


    "Who''s?"


    "-''s."


    We stare at each other for a few moments, then I look down at Trenton.


    "Really?" I ask, then move Trenton''s head in a nod because he''s wanting to nod. "Oh. Apparently, mortals aren''t supposed to be able to understand godly names. Or even say them. He''s impressed I could pronounce it right. But he says he can feel -''s energies in this place, so you guys must worship him. Really?"


    I look at Russell, then at Trenton.


    "Huh."


    "What is it?" Russell asks.


    "He says that -''s the god who gave you a blessing," I answer, then look around the room before looking at Trenton. "What about everyone else? They all have divine blessings, too. I''ve never seen so many people with divine blessings in one place before."


    "We all have divine blessings?" Russell asks.


    "Yeah," I nod. "Trenton says you''ve all been blessed by -, and that means you''re all really good people. And if Trenton says you''re all good people, then that means you''re all good people."


    "Glad we''re approved!" Mason, a boy in the sixth grade, puts his hands on his hips.


    "Trenton really likes everyone here?" Russell asks me.


    "Yeah," I nod. "That''s so rare, too. Not everyone here has a blessing as strong as yours or S.G.''s or Luke''s or Carter''s, but everyone''s got a blessing. So many in one place. I guess it''s because it''s a church."


    Though I didn''t know that churches could have so many people who are good.


    "I''m not religious," I add.


    "You don''t need to be," Ms. Kimberly, one of the supervisors, says. "We welcome all here. Feel free to have a seat anywhere. There are some snacks down there if you want something."


    The room itself is pretty long, and has a series of couches, loveseats, and regular chairs against three of its walls. The fourth wall, which is the shorter wall opposite the end we entered toward, has a longer table against it, where a few plates and baskets with snacks, as well as pitchers of lemonade and water and some plastic cups sit.


    I follow Russell down to that table and look at the snacks. Some fruit, some vegetables, some bags of chips, a big container of pretzels, and a basket of cookies. Russell told me that there would be dinner served here so I didn''t need to worry about it, but none of this is dinner.


    "That''ll be after the opening to this," Russell whispers to me.


    "Huh?"


    "You look confused by the food," he says. "You''re thinking about dinner, right? We always do a lesson session to start things off. It''s kind of religious, but you don''t have to participate if you don''t want to. It''s usually about fifteen to twenty-five minutes, then we hang out and stuff until dinner arrives, then we eat, then we play games. Oh! And I forgot to mention, but they''ll ask if anyone brought money for dinner – it''s not mandatory, so don''t worry about giving anything. There''s a youth fund from the church specifically to help cover expenses like that, but asking for donations to help cover the dinners for this frees up more of that money to go into other activities. And also helps to cover the snacks, too, though we can also bring some if we want."


    "So it''s okay I brought cookies?"


    "You brought cookies?" His voice is a little bit louder.


    "Yeah," I nod. "I wasn''t sure if it was allowed or not, but my gut said I could so I did. I wanted to ask you, but I didn''t."


    "Yeah, you can bring cookies," he says. "I think the fruit and veggie trays are the only snacks here that comes from the group''s funds. There''ll be more snacks after dinner, too. I brought something for that, too, but it''s in my bag."


    "Your bag?" I look around and spot his bag by one of the loveseats. "Oh, so you did bring it."


    That makes more sense. It''s rare that a kid goes somewhere without their play backpack. Almost all youth have one, and it generally contains at least one change of clothes and at least a basic first-aid kit, and should usually have some water as well. Toys and other things to play with are optional, but the others are standard.


    I don''t know if that''s just a this-area thing or if it''s an everywhere thing, I just know that they even have clinics where less-fortunate families can go to get play backpacks for their kids. Those ones come with a deck of cards as well, and sometimes an outdoor toy of some sort.


    "Yeah," he says. "I arrived a bit ago, just went outside when I saw you entering the parking lot."


    "Oh."


    "What kind of snacks did you want?" Russell asks. "I''ll carry them for you. I''m assuming cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries, and grapes, with some fruit dip and a cup of lemonade?"


    "How did you guess that?"


    "I''ve seen what you snack on," he snorts. "Those are all common factors."


    "But no cookies?" Maddy, a girl entering the eighth grade, asks.


    "He doesn''t eat chocolate," Russell tells her. "Or anything that''s touched it. All of the cookies are on the same plate, so he won''t eat them. Right, Xander?"


    "Yeah," I nod. "And no pretzels, either. Those ones look super salty."


    "What about chips?" Russell asks, and I look at the choices.


    "Not this time," I shake my head.


    "Candy?"


    "Um…" I look at the candy jar. There''s chocolate in there. He probably thinks the wrappers on them makes it okay, but it''s not. "I think I''ll stick to the fruits right now."


    "Alright," he fixes up two plates and cups, then puts them on a tray and carries them over to the couch with his backpack. "You can sit on the chair there if you want, and you can use the table beside it for your plate and cup if you want."


    The chair is right beside the couch, next to where his backpack is. I''ll probably feel a little squished and crowded, but at least there will only be one person beside me instead of two or a person and a wall. And since that person is Russell, I should be okay.


    "Okay," I pull off my backpack and set it under the chair, then sit with Trenton on my lap, then accept my plate and cup from Russell. "Thank you."


    "You''re welcome!"


    Some more kids arrive, then the lesson-session begins, right at five o''clock. It begins with a group prayer (which I don''t participate in), then a discussion begins.


    "Everyone has good times and bad," Ms. Kimberly says. "Some more than others. Suffering, hurt, these are things that people experience. According to the Ancient Testaments, however, the gods love their children. So why, then, do you think they allow for people to suffer? To be hurt, to suffer ill events or be affected by disasters? Some people claim that the gods don''t exist precisely because bad things happen. What do you all think? Casey?"


    Casey''s a boy soon to be entering the sixth grade, and he was the last to arrive. As with everyone else here, he has a divine blessing from the patron god of this particular church. I''ve never seen this many blessed people at a single church before, but I guess this one is full of good people.


    That, or it''s just the ones who attend the youth group who are good enough people to earn a divine blessing.


    "I think they do exist," he puts his hand down; almost all of the youth here put a hand up at the question. "But they let us suffer to help us build character. If we just get everything handed to us and nothing bad ever happens, then we''ll just keep wanting more and more, because we never learn there''s bad in excess and stuff. Mom told me that and it makes sense."


    No, it doesn''t. Why would they make bad things happen to build character? That''s just stupid. Making bad things happen to people to build character makes someone evil. Gods are inherently good or neutral, not evil. They don''t do evil things.


    "Does anyone else agree with that?" Ms. Kimberly asks, and a few of the others agree. "Anyone have a different opinion? Meredith?"


    "I think they''re testing us," she says. "To see how we act in the face of bad things. Do we let it tear us down? Lose our hope and faith, spiraling into darkness? Or do we face it head-on and overcome it? They''re omniscient, but they''d still prefer to let us do things on our own and make our own choices rather than judging our souls in the afterlife for stuff we never did."


    That''s also stupid. Making bad things happen to test people is something evil people do. And gods are not evil, they''re either neutral or good.


    "Does anyone else agree with that?" Ms. Kimberly asks, and most of the others do. "Anyone have a different opinion?"


    A couple of more opinions are given, and they''re equally stupid and dumb as the first two. Once everyone else has had a turn to voice their opinion, Ms. Kimberly looks at me.


    "You don''t have to participate," she says. "Russell told us you''re nonreligious and you mentioned it earlier, but do you have thoughts about this that you want to share? Don''t worry about feeling stupid or judged here, we consider opinions equally valid for these discussions as long as someone isn''t deliberately goofing off."


    She''s being honest there, but I don''t know how to say it. My opinion is definitely one they''re all going to disagree with, based on what I''ve heard. Their suggestions really are stupid.


    "Um…" I say. "I think bad things happen to bad people as punishments. But Trenton disagrees with that. We get into arguments about it so we never talk about it anymore."


    Bad people get punished. That happens in the now, and it even happens in the Ancient Testaments. Even the gods were punishing the bad in them, so that''s proof that the gods use bad things to punish people for being bad.


    Trenton claims the Ancient Testaments are wrong, though.


    "Really?" She asks. "What does Trenton think it is?"


    "Free will," I answer. "Sort of like what Meredith said, except it''s not being caused by the gods. He says that they simply let things play out for the most part, and that they make good things happen to people if they feel particularly like Ben of Lint, whatever that means. I don''t know who Ben of Lint is, but I guess it''s a comparison?"


    "Benevolent," Ms. Kimberly says. "Think of it as being kind, or well-meaning."


    "Oh," I say. "That makes more sense. I could never figure out what lint had to do with it, either. And Trenton says that it''s not that good things only happen because of gods, it''s just extra good things, if they''re feeling benevolent. Or if they feel that someone is suffering too much from their own circumstances and bad luck. But bad things are just a result of the natural processes of the world and universe, luck, and free will. And the gods don''t want to stop bad things from happening because that''d take away free will, and that utopias only sound good on paper, and only without an in-depth look.


    "Basically," I say. "If they stripped away the ability for bad things to happen, we''d not be given choices in life. We''d essentially become robots, as Greyson would compare it to. And the gods want us to have free will, so they usually just let things play out."


    "Does anyone else think that makes sense?" Ms. Kimberly asks.


    "I do," Meredith says. "That''s sort of like what I said, that they prefer to let us do things on our own and make our own choices, just without the part where they''re testing us."


    "What about blessings?" Nathan, a boy entering the seventh grade next month, asks. "You mentioned that Trenton claims we all have blessings, right? Can he explain that, if they''re wanting to let us do our own thing?"


    "Yeah," I nod. "Trenton says that gods bless people they think are good people. Kind and caring souls who they feel have earned a blessing. The blessings can be things like probability manipulation, to put you in the right place at the right time for certain things. It could be to make it easier for them to find people to make friends with, for example. Or to keep them from getting hit by a car, or to get noticed when putting on a performance. Depends on their circumstances. Some blessings might make it easier for them to learn a certain type of magic without a bloodline for it, or to develop a certain skill or certain skills faster, to to learn things more easily, or cause any plants they grow to do so a little bit faster and with a little bit more bounty, or provides a massive boost to their mana regeneration or growth in mana pool from training, or even to make it so someone can''t ever get sick.


    "Stuff that''ll help them out," I say. "Not hurt them. And when it comes to bad stuff, Trenton is adamant that the gods never cause it, they''re just letting things play out how the flows of the universe deem it. Only when they grant blessings or perform rescues do they actually interact directly, and they do it because they feel that the person can use something good, either because of their bad circumstances and luck or just because the person''s a good person the god took an interest in. Also that no matter what the blessing does, it doesn''t take away free will, not even the ones that perform probability manipulation."


    There''s a little bit of discussion on Trenton''s theory by the others, but it''s hard for me to follow.


    "To conclude this," Ms. Kimberly eventually says. "The main theories you all have about why bad things happen to be, why people suffer, can be broken down into three main ideas: the gods are testing us, the gods are trying to help us build character so we don''t become entitled, and the gods aren''t causing it but allowing the flow of the universe to happen. There''s no one ''right'' answer that we can give to this, as none of us can actually communicate with the gods. And that''s the thing about faith: it''s not rooted in science and evidence but in faith. You believe it without evidence, not knowing if you''re right or wrong."


    Everyone else seems to just accept that, but now I''m confused. So she asks us questions, then tells us that there''s no way to know for sure. What was even the point of the discussion?


    "Something for everyone to think on," Ms. Kimberly says. "That concludes the lesson session, so let''s move to the Fellowship Hall now and see if the high schoolers are done."


    "There are high schoolers here?" I whisper to Russell.


    "Yeah," Russell answers. "Their topics are usually similar to ours but because they''re older, they can be more serious as well. We all do some activities together while waiting for dinner, and eat together, then the post-dinner stuff is either everyone or divided by middle or high school."


    "Okay."


    I grab my backpack even though the others aren''t grabbing theirs, and we join everyone heading into the Fellowship Hall. The high school kids aren''t out here yet.


    Some of the kids get basketballs from another room and start shooting hoops after Mr. Blake lowers one of them at the other end of the hall. I watch everyone, not really sure what to do. Russell hangs out with me a little, which I''m grateful for. I don''t really know anyone here or how to approach them.


    What if they all don''t like me and think I''m stupid and ugly and don''t want Russell here anymore because he invited someone like me?


    Before going off, some of the kids put money into a basket on one of the tables with the snacks. For the middle schoolers, it''s either $5 or $10, while the high schoolers do $10 or $20. I guess it''s because the high school kids eat a lot.


    I eat a lot, too. Hm… okay, I think that''s what I''ll do.


    "Uh… Xander?" Russell asks.


    Should I have snuck the money into the basket instead?


    "Yes?"


    "Did you mean to put in a five?"


    "No."


    "You don''t have to give $50," he says. "You don''t have to help out at all. It''s not required."


    "I know," I say. "But I eat a lot, and the high schoolers put in more money than the middle schoolers, because they eat more than the middle schoolers, right? So it''d make sense for me to put in more, too. That''s probably more than what I''ll eat, but it helps the others, too, right? So that''s what I''m doing."


    "That''s… still a lot," he says, then lowers his voice. "Won''t your dad be upset?"


    "No," I answer. "Why would he be? It''s my money. He doesn''t get mad about me spending his money, so it''d be weird if he doesn''t want me to spend my own. And he even encourages that I spend it how I want, as long as it''s not against the rules or for anything illegal or stuff like that."


    As I say that, I realize something. Mr. Trey really doesn''t care if he spends money on me. At all. He''s always trying to get me to accept him doing it when I''m hesitant.


    I really don''t have to worry about him getting mad at me for asking for things, do I?