ã€ŠRoar of Dragonsã€‹


 Chapter 001

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Ms. Johnson says just as I reach the front door.

    I freeze up. What did I do wrong? She never stops me on the way out of the home after lunch on Saturdays. Never, never, never, never, never. That means I messed up. I thought I had all of my chores done but I must have screwed something up or forgotten something. Now she''s gonna beat me and-

    "Could you be back by four this afternoon?" Ms. Johnson asks. "You have a meeting at four-thirty, so you need to be cleaned up and ready to go by then, okay?"

    I nod to her, though I''m a bit confused about why I would have a meeting. Nobody wants to adopt a worthless piece of shit like me. Whoever it is probably doesn''t know how stupid I am and how clumsy I am, but they''ll probably figure it out really fast. If they''re looking to adopt a twelve-year-old boy, there are plenty of others in this boys'' home.

    Ones who aren''t undersized and scrawny on top not being stupid and worthless.

    "Alright," Ms. Johnson says. "Before you go, I wanted to give you something, too."

    A beating. It''s definitely a beating. What did I do wrong? I cleaned my room and made sure the bathroom I was assigned to clean today was cleaned. Did I forget something? Probably a lot of things. She''s holding out her hand now. Oh, crap. She''s gonna jab me in the stom¡­ huh?

    I stare at the object in her hand. It''s money. A ten-dollar bill.

    "Don''t tell the other boys, okay?" She whispers. "You''re getting a little extra for your allowance this time for not running away again these last few months and for always getting your chores done. Get yourself some snacks or something, okay? But don''t let the other boys know how you got the money."

    Why is she telling me to buy myself something to eat while I''m out? I know I''m really skinny but am I really that bad? They did just have all us go through a checkup the last couple of days now that school is out for the summer. Maybe I lost weight again. Maybe even some height. That wouldn''t surprise me, I''m just a waste of space so it''d make sense for the universe to remove some of me so that I waste less space.

    No matter what the dork says.

    "Alright?" Ms. Johnson asks, and I nod. "Good. Go have fun, Xander."

    What kind of fun am I supposed to have? I don''t even know what it''s like to have fun.

    More confused than anything, I leave the home. Ms. Johnson is definitely trying to make me not skinny anymore, that''s the only explanation I can think of. Me being so skinny is probably part of why nobody wants to adopt me, on top of all of the other reasons. There''s me being stupid, me being a klutz, me being a worthless piece of shit, me being a waste of space, me be scrawny, me being short, me being stupid, me only being good for getting beatings, me having platinum-blond hair that draws attention from pretty much everyone (though it''s currently dyed brown so that it doesn''t do that), me having blue-green-grey eyes that freak people out for some reason¡­ and that''s just the stuff I''m currently remembering.

    I''ll have to check my notebook for the rest of the stuff I''ve written down. There are other reasons, too, but I also have a bad memory so I have to write things down if I want to make sure I know them later. Of course, that also requires me remembering them when I finally return to the notebook to write them down, which is another problem with me.

    Chances are good this isn''t the first time I''ve thought I should bring a pen and some paper with me just in case I think of things while I''m out.

    The walk to my first destination takes around forty-five minutes. It''s a pet shop in the next town over and I use a bike trail to make the trip shorter than it would be otherwise. I didn''t use the bike trail at first but I''ve since learned that it''s also a walking path even though it''s a bike trail.

    That was a relief to learn because I wanted to find a way to shorten the trip without getting arrested. It was also confusing to learn because how is it a walking path if it''s a bike trail?

    Though the pet store is very large, I don''t go very far into it. They would probably accuse me of stealing if I went into the aisles so I stick to walking straight over to the adoption area. The company allows a pet adoption agency to come out every Saturday of the year and I like to look at the dogs. Just like me, they''re hoping for a good home that will treat them right. A home that won''t hurt them.

    "Hey, little man," the pet adoption worker greets me when I arrive. "Were you wanting to pet the dogs this week?"

    I nod.

    "Alright," he says. "Go on in but remember the rules."

    I nod, then enter the sectioned-off area with the dogs up for adoption in it. Several kennels are set up along the back and side walls, each one with a different dog in it. There''s a pair of workers in here as well and they let me look at each of the dogs and pet each one for a few minutes.

    Most of these dogs are ones I don''t know, but one of them is a medium-large dog with semi-long fur that''s dark brown, black, and golden-brown in places. His name is Turtle and he''s about a year old. Apparently, his previous owners thought he looked like one of the candies when he was still a puppy but I don''t get it. Those are completely brown. They also have chocolate so I don''t like them. I like Turtle. He''s also not made of chocolate.

    Turtle was placed in the shelter a few months ago and has always been too hyper for someone to adopt him. That''s what they say, but he''s always calm when I''m petting him. The lady who let him out for me tells me that he''s been a good boy this past week, so I give him a belly-scratch to reward him for that.

    "Be a good boy," I whisper to Turtle when it''s time for him to go back into his kennel.

    "See you next week," the lady tells me as I go to leave.

    I wave to her without responding. I can''t know for sure if I''ll see her next week and I don''t like saying things that aren''t certain. Lying is wrong and while it wouldn''t be lying if I expect to see her next week now, I don''t want to get punished for lying if I don''t see her next week for some reason.

    Now that my visit to pet the dogs is over, I start walking to my next destination. This one takes a little while to reach as I have to leave the shopping district. I pass by a park on the left where a bunch of kids are playing and notice one boy in particular among all of the kids playing at it.

    He looks to be about my age but is more average in height, and he''s taken off his shirt to play basketball with some other boys. Three others have their shirts off, while the other four have theirs on. I''ve never understood why people do that when it''s warmer out.

    It''s not too warm out right now but I''m in an outfit that I''ll probably wear even in the middle of summer, when it''s really hot out. Baggy jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt that''s a bit big on me, along with my faded and worn-out sneakers. Wearing baggy clothes with darker or neutral/bland colors makes people notice me less. At least, during winter. People look at me more during summer but they usually look away just as quickly.

    The boy who caught my attention has black hair and blue eyes and he seems to be better than the others at the game. At least, he''s moving faster than they are. I switch to viewing magic and see that while he has a decent amount compared to most people, he''s not using any. Most people never learn magic but I''m pretty sure there are boys my age who can do it.

    Oh, crap. I was starting at him too long, wasn''t I? He''ll probably think I''m a freak if he sees that even though I was just curious if his speed and jump height was magical. Crap, crap, crap.

    I look away and hurry my steps.

    That boy stays on my mind though. That''s the first time I''ve seen him outside of the bowling alley. Based on what little I saw, he''s pretty good at basketball. I could just be stupid and thinking that when he''s actually really bad, but it still makes me wish that I was good at something. All I can do well is tell if people have magic or not and also screw things up. The dork lets me help him with stuff but I think he''s just trying to be nice. He''s really weird.

    Past the park is a wooded area, and after about ten minutes of walking once I reach that, I come across a parking lot. This one''s on the left-hand side of the road as well and can fit about twenty cars in it. A short retaining wall was set up along the back and sides of it to help keep the ground from pushing into the parking lot or something like that, with a gap in the wall on the left-hand side leading to the path that takes people to the restaurant.

    I cross the road and step onto the parking lot, then make my way up the path. It''s a calming, quiet path that can fit three or four normal-sized adults side-by-side along it and it winds a little as it goes up the slope of the forest. Eventually, it lets out into a clearing with a restaurant. Tinted windows line most of the front with a small section at the front-right containing the door to allow customers to enter through.

    Normally I wouldn''t dare to enter a restaurant but I know I''m allowed to enter this one. They won''t kick me out for doing that.

    I enter through the front door, which lets customers into a small room with another door at the opposite side of it. I open up that door and step through, then approach the counter not far from that. To the left of the counter and entrance area are the booth tables that make up the seating area for the restaurant, while the right-hand wall between the door and counter has a bench for customers to sit on while they''re waiting.

    The lunch rush is over by now so there are only a couple of customers at the tables when I enter.

    Standing behind the counter is a boy about sixteen years old, with sandy-blond hair and blue-green eyes. He''s dressed in black pants (which I know because I''ve seen him not behind the counter in his uniform) and a dark green polo. Over that, he''s wearing a black apron that has "CAL" embroidered onto it in neon green.

    "Hello!" Cal greets me with a smile. "Welcome to the Wolf''s Dragon. Will this be for dining in or carry out?"

    He knows my order. He knows what it is and that I don''t change it. But he always asks me that question and it confuses me about why. I don''t show my confusion though because he might take it the wrong way and ban me from here.

    "Carry out, please," I respond. "Could I please get a single slice of the red-white-and-blue cheesecake?"

    "Sure thing," Cal tells me. "That''ll be five dollars, and you can pay once it''s ready. If you give me just a minute, I''ll go fix that up for you."

    Cal goes into the hall to the right behind the counter and I step to the side to wait for his return. When he does, he''s carrying a small, triangle-shaped box in his hands. He places it into a paper bag with the restaurant''s logo on it, then rings up my order on his computer.

    "Will that be all for you today?" Cal asks.

    "Yes, sir."

    "That will be five dollars, sir," Cal tells me, and I hand him a five-dollar bill instead of the ten-dollar bill that Ms. Johnson gave me earlier.

    I think he was mocking me with the ''sir'' because I said ''sir'', too. If I looked into his eyes I''d probably be able to tell but I''m not allowed to look people in the eye. That''s being defiant and I don''t want to get into trouble for being defiant.

    "Alright," Cal accepts the money, then hands me the bag. "Have a good day, Xander."

    "Have a good day, Cal," I tell him, then turn and leave the restaurant.

    Back at the parking lot, I sit down on the retaining wall and pull out the cheesecake I was given. Cal stuck a fork and a trio of napkins in the bag without me noticing it but I didn''t sense any magic. He''s fast. Not as fast as the dork, but I think the dork can teleport.

    Three slices of strawberry sit atop the cheesecake but below the pink drizzle. When I first started ordering this there, they didn''t have the strawberries on it. After about the first month, they started adding the strawberry slices and I like that. It somehow makes the cheesecake taste even better.

    The cheesecake itself is purple but they call it ''blue'' because the purple comes from blueberries. The drizzle on top is a strawberry cream cheese drizzle, and the crust is a¡­ they call it ''white'' probably because it''s lighter in color than graham crackers are. I think I heard it was shortbread? With¡­ white chips, I think it was. I''m not sure what white chips are but the crust tastes good so whatever they are, they''re good.

    I try to eat slowly instead of scarfing down the food. Every time I eat cheesecake super fast, I end up getting sick. My instinct is to eat this as fast as I can before anyone can tell me I''m not allowed to have it or try to take it away from me or yell at me for sitting here.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Once I finish eating, I put the container, napkins, and fork back into the bag, then condense the bag as much as I can before putting it into a trashcan in one corner of the parking lot.

    I usually go home after this but Ms. Johnson told me to spend ten dollars on food. That makes me nervous because if I do that, then I might not have time to get back to the home, take a shower, and get changed into a fresh and nice set of clothes in time to meet whoever it is who is coming to meet me.

    Maybe she thinks that eating ten dollars'' worth of food will shift me from being scrawny to not in an unreasonable amount of time? It won''t help and I decide that she probably got things mixed up due to being a bit frazzled from trying to shift everything from the end-of-school stuff to the start-of-summer stuff.

    I''ll politely return the money to her later and hope she accepts it without beating me for saying she messed up.

    Since I''m returning the money, it''s time to head back to the orphanage and get ready to meet with whoever this person is. Just as soon as one person stops wanting to meet with me every week, there''s someone new.

    Upon reaching the orphanage, I hurry to my bedroom and grab a change of clothes, then quickly go to the showers. They''re communal showers with three heads on the side and back walls, but no one else is taking a shower right now. Apart from before-bed stuff, we''re only allowed to use the showers if we have a meet or if we got extra-sweaty from something like sports. Sometimes if we got extra-dirty from rolling around in the dirt or something.

    The lack of anyone else in here makes me happy but I don''t take my time, finishing the shower as quickly as possible while still being efficient in the cleaning. Then I dry myself off and dry off the mirror, then use the blow-dryer to get my hair dried. My roots are showing a little but I don''t have time to touch them up as it''s almost time for the meet. It probably would have been better if I had walked faster to get to the pet store and the Wolf''s Dragon.

    Stupid, stupid, stupid.

    I know it''s not good to lie but I don''t get into trouble for the hair dye so I think that one''s okay. It makes me stand out less, which is probably why it''s permitted. Once, I got accused of trying to blind people with my hair and then I was beaten for it. I''m not sure how I was blinding people but I was really sorry for it. It wasn''t until I was back in the home here that I was allowed to dye my hair.

    It took me a lot of courage to ask Ms. Johnson about that.

    Oooh. Maybe she gave me the extra ten dollars to cover the cost of the hair dye, but said it was for snacks so that I''d put it toward those and then use part of the rest of my allowance for that? That''s nice.

    With my hair fully dried, I dry myself off again, then get dressed. A pair of nice black pants that make my skin tingle and itch a little, a white button-up shirt that was recently cleaned and ironed, and a pair of black dress shoes. I hate this outfit because it''s uncomfortable but we have to dress up for the meets. It''s one of the rules and we get into a lot of trouble if we don''t.

    I make sure to put the used towel and my dirty clothes away, then I go to the meet room and knock on it. The first knock I perform is right at four-thirty. This was definitely cutting it close and Ms. Johnson is definitely going to scold me for taking too long later. At least she hasn''t given me a beating yet but it''s only a matter of time. I think she''s trying to build up my trust first. Two years is way too long and it''s making me way too anxious.

    "If that''s Xander, you can come in," Ms. Johnson says through the door.

    I open the door and enter the room and almost freeze upon seeing the man sitting on the other side of the table in there.

    He''s forty-one years old and 6''2" in height, making him really tall compared to most people I''ve seen. His dark brown hair is combed neatly to the side and his blue eyes are probably looking at me with the same friendliness he''s had the last seven times we''ve met. Mr. Caldwell is dressed in his usual outfit of black pants and a white button-up, his dark grey suit jacket hung over the back of his chair and his sleeves rolled up. The tie today is dark green, sort of emerald but not quite. I like that color.

    When we didn''t have a meet yesterday, I had assumed that he had given up talking to me. He showed up the seven Fridays before that, though, and I don''t think he''s here to look into adoption. I think he''s a really rich man who''s going to put money toward renovating the home and is asking all of the boys here some questions about what they like.

    I haven''t seen him talk to the other boys, but that''s the only explanation I can come up with for the questions he''s been asking and why it''s taking weeks for him to ask them all. Two weeks ago, one of the questions he asked was what type of bathroom I wanted ¨C the kind where the tub and shower are one unit, the kind where the tub and shower and two separate units, or the kind where the shower is for cleaning and is off to the side while the tub is bigger and meant for soaking. That was a really weird thing to ask, but I guess the renovations are looking into stuff like that as well. We don''t even get tubs here so we can''t soak to relax. I liked bubble baths when I was little.

    "Hello, Xander," Mr. Caldwell greets me with a small wave.

    "Hello, Mr. Caldwell," I respond.

    "Please," he says. "Call me Trey."

    I enter the room and close the door, then take a seat beside Ms. Johnson at the table. A few items are set out on the table, including one of those white boxes I sometimes see on TV that are used to carry office supplies when someone gets fired. Mr. Caldwell usually has one of those with him, to show samples of things.

    Another of the items on the table is a decorative glass plate with a bunch of pale cookies with whitish chunks and what looks like nuts in them. A glass of milk is set beside that, though I think Ms. Johnson put that there.

    "How are you?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    This is usually a trick question people ask because most aren''t really interested in answering. If I answer honestly, no one likes it and I usually get yelled at or beaten. If I lie, though, then I''ll probably get into trouble as well. It''s hard for me to avoid answering with Mr. Caldwell and if I lie to him he might reduce how much money he gives to the home. Then I''ll get into trouble for ruining things. If I tell the truth, though, then he''ll probably reduce the money and efforts put into the renovations, which will also get me into trouble for ruining things, and-

    "Ms. Johnson said you might be a few minutes late since you went for a walk," Mr. Caldwell says. "Did you enjoy your walk?"

    That''s a much better question and I''m glad he decided to ask that instead.

    "Yes, sir," I answer.

    "Did you go to the park?"

    "No, sir."

    "Mind if I ask what you did?"

    "No, sir."

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson softly says. "That was him asking what you did on your walk if you were okay with answer."

    "O-oh," my face heats up. I screwed up again. I''m such a fucking waste of space. "I-I went to a pet store to pet dogs. Then I went to a restaurant and bought myself a slice of cheesecake and ate it."

    "It''s Xander''s usual Saturday routine," Ms. Johnson tells Mr. Caldwell. "He does it as long as he''s free to go out and the weather''s nice."

    "Oh," Mr. Caldwell says. "Well, if you''re not too full from cheesecake, you can eat some of the cookies while we talk, Xander. They''re white chocolate macademia nut."

    White¡­ chocolate? I didn''t know chocolate could come in a white variety. Sneaky demon food, disguising itself as something else to trick innocent people into being its victim.

    "The flavor''s different," Ms. Johnson tells me. "Why don''t you give one a try?"

    I''m hesitant because it''s chocolate, but it''s not brown so it doesn''t look like poop. Ms. Johnson suggesting I try one also means that not doing so will probably offend Mr. Caldwell and he''ll reduce the funds he donates. He was probably really offended by me not eating the brownies he brought last week, or the chocolate-chip cookies the week before that. The week before that, he brought lemon cookies and the one before that saw banana-nut muffins on the dish. I''m not sure where he''s buying these but rich people probably have special bakeries they can order from.

    More than a little anxious, I reach out and accept one of the cookies, then take a bite of it where one of the chunks of white chocolate is. Ms. Johnson was right, the flavor is different. It being chocolate still makes me hesitant, but at least it''s not poop-colored. Something about the flavor is familiar.

    Oh! Maybe it''s white chocolate chips that were crushed into the crust of the cheesecake I get at the Wolf''s Dragon?

    Mr. Caldwell opens up the binder he has on the table and pushes it toward me a little while I munch on the cookie. Today''s session seems to be starting with picking out stuff for the beds. Sheets, blankets, pillows, and such. Once I point out the ones I think look nice, Mr. Caldwell has me look at paint slips and asks me what colors I''d be interested in my bedroom being. I try to think about what Nick, my roommate, would prefer so that he doesn''t get mad at me if Mr. Caldwell actually listens to this piece of shit''s statements. Choices for shades and curtains for windows are also presented to me, along with furniture options.

    The last thing Mr. Caldwell has me look at are carpet samples. They''re all really, really plush and I like the way they feel. If I were alone, I would probably be rubbing them against my face. I didn''t even know that carpets could be this soft!

    "If you want to rub it against your face, you can," Mr. Caldwell startles me.

    "I-I-I-"

    "It was pretty evident," he chuckles. "You can do it, Xander. I did the same thing when I first received the samples. Not those ones, a different set. Same company and plushness, though."

    For a moment, I stare at the sample in my hand. It''s a dark green carpet sample. Then I put it against my cheek and rub it. This really does feel nice. Mr. Caldwell chuckles a little and I feel my face heat up and quickly put the sample down.

    "You can keep that if you want," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "It was nice meeting with you today, Xander. I would have been here yesterday, but there was an emergency with my company that I had to take care of. Do you mind if Ms. Johnson and I have a few minutes to talk?"

    "Go wait outside the room, alright, Xander?" Ms. Johnson asks before I can respond to Mr. Caldwell''s question.

    I nod, then hurry out of the room and let out a heavy breath of relief. That was way too intense for me. Why even bother asking for my opinions on the renovations? It''s not like I matter at all. Ms. Johnson is probably going to scold me once Mr. Caldwell leaves. This is probably where she reveals that she''s done letting me off with lighter punishments and beats me for screwing up with Mr. Caldwell. I even ate all of the cookies he brought! I just realized that!

    Oh, no! This is bad. This is really, really bad.

    Maybe if I give her the money back, she''ll be nicer? Or the rest of my allowance. How much do I have left? Um¡­ I spent five dollars at the Wolf''s Dragon today, and twenty at the bowling alley on Tuesday, and¡­ um¡­ um¡­ fucking stupid piece of shit. I can''t remember what all I''ve spent money on since getting my allowance at the start of the week!

    Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Johnson leave the meet room as I try to remember how much I have left.

    "-should be ready by Thursday night," Mr. Caldwell says. "How early would be too early to come on Friday?"

    "How early is too early for you?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "I usually wake around six to six-thirty," Mr. Caldwell answers. "But I''m sure before breakfast would be too early."

    "Xander typically wakes around five," Ms. Johnson says. "Though he stays in his bed and tries to fall back asleep. Breakfast typically starts around seven during the school year but with it being summer it''s anywhere from seven to nine as most of the boys sleep in."

    They''re talking about me but I don''t understand why. What does it matter what time I wake? Maybe it''s so that he can personally beat me for my screw-ups but not have to deal with the other boys seeing it?

    "If you want to come before breakfast, you''re free to," Ms. Johnson continues. "Just let me know the day before and I can make sure he''s ready."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Then assuming everything goes well, let''s say Friday."

    "Alright," Ms. Johnson responds. "Let me know if things change."

    "Will do," Mr. Caldwell says. "See you, Ms. Johnson. See you, Xander."

    He''s the only one who''s ever met with me who''s actually said goodbye, and I think he''s just being nice to all of the boys. I want to try to ask them about their meets with him but get too nervous that they''ll be upset that a nothing like me would ask about them.

    "Goodbye, Mr. Caldwell," I remember to tell him before it''s been too long for me to respond.

    Mr. Caldwell gives me a small wave and leaves, then Ms. Johnson looks at me and I flinch in fear.

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "I tried telling you before, but I don''t think you were paying too much attention-"

    "I''m sorry," breathing starts to become difficult for me. "I try really hard but I-"

    "Hold on, Xander," she says.

    I interrupted her. Fuck. No!

    "SorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorryIdidn''tmeantointerruptyouI''mreallysorrypleasedon''tbeatmeitwasanaccidentI''msorrysorrysorrysorrysorryso-"

    "What do you think Mr. Caldwell was wanting to meet with you for?" Ms. Johnson''s question makes me pause and I realize that she asked it three times before I caught it.

    Fucking stupid piece of shit me. I''m in so much trouble!

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "What do you think Mr. Caldwell was wanting to meet with you for?"

    "Um¡­ because he''s going to have the home renovated and is asking all of the boys their opinions on some of the changes?"

    Ms. Johnson thinks for a few moments, then nods.

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "I can see why you''d think that if you didn''t catch me saying it-"

    "I''m sorry!"

    "But Mr. Caldwell wasn''t asking you about how you''d like things set up the first few times," she tells me. "The first three meetings were just to see his interest in taking you in."

    "In¡­ taking me in?"

    "Yes," Ms. Johnson says. "Mr. Caldwell was looking into adopting you, Xander. That''s why he''s asked a lot of questions about you, especially those first three weeks. The last four weeks and today? That''s been to prepare to take you in. Some of it is just to continue seeing if you''re a fit for his home while some of it is to actually prepare the home. You''ll be getting your own bedroom and bathroom, and even an office of your own so you can do schoolwork in it when the school year starts back up.

    "That''s what some of the questions he''s been asking you have been," she tells me. "The stuff about the bathroom and the tub and shower? That was because you''re getting your own bathroom, Xander. Those questions were so he knew how to have it set up. The questions today were because they''re almost done setting up your room. He''s going to present the choices you made to his contractors and they''re going to do the paint and carpet based on those choices. You also just picked out things like the style of furniture for your room, the bedclothes, and the curtains."

    Ms. Johnson goes quiet for a few moments but all I can think about is how this is weird and confusing. I even dared a peek into her eyes so I could tell if she was lying and she''s not.

    "Any questions?"

    "Why would someone want to adopt me?"

    "I know you''re probably nervous and scared," Ms. Johnson is absolutely correct about this. "But we did a lot of looking into Mr. Caldwell before letting him meet with you even once, Xander. If it turns out that we''re wrong, just let us know and we''ll pull you back. The state requires that you live with him as a foster child for eighteen months before the adoption can be finalized, so there''s an eighteen-month period where it can be easily reversed, okay?"

    "Eighteen months?"

    "It''s specifically so that the case workers and courts can see if the child is a fit for the home," Ms. Johnson tells me. "And for the family and child as well. So you have up to eighteen months to figure out if you like living with Mr. Caldwell, okay? If anything happens and you feel unsafe, you can let me know and we''ll remove you from there and bring you back here, alright?"

    I''ll probably get into a lot of trouble for screwing things up. Finding out Mr. Caldwell wants to adopt me scares me, too. It''s only going to be a matter of time before he says I wasted his money on renovations and sends me back here.

    "Go get changed, Xander," Ms. Johnson tells me. "I''ve put in an order for pizza and it should be here soon. There''s enough for everyone to have four slices if they''re that hungry, and I even ordered wings, bread sticks, cheesy bread sticks, cinnamon sticks, and soda. And after, there''s going to be ice cream."

    Whoa. She doesn''t even go that all-out when someone turns eighteen and moves out. Something really good must have happened. Did one of the donors send some extra money so we could have an end-of-year celebration?

    Wait. She ordered enough pizza so that everyone could have four slices? And she ordered all of that extra stuff? And there''s ice cream after?

    Whoa. I might actually get to eat two slices this time.

 Chapter 002

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Remember to be back by eleven, Xander," Ms. Johnson tells me as I reach the door.

    "Yes, ma''am," I respond, then leave the home.

    It''s Tuesday, and that means I can go to the bowling alley if the weather is good and I''m allowed to leave and all of the other conditions are met. Most of the other boys don''t get to stay out as late as I do for my Tuesday activity. They don''t like that I have this special permission but I think the only reason Ms. Johnson lets me do it is so that she doesn''t have to deal with me during the normal period of time where the staff is trying to get everyone to bed. I always try to behave and go to bed even without being told to, but I probably still screw things up.

    The bowling alley isn''t too far from the Wolf''s Dragon so it takes me a lot of time to get there and then more to return to the home. Without permission to leave and stay out this late, I would likely struggle to rent a lane if I''m there by myself. But the alley is mostly empty after eight-thirty on Tuesdays so arriving at nine almost always guarantees me a lane.

    When I arrive, I find the bowling alley as cool as always. Only two of its twenty lanes are in use right now, so I''m more than able to rent one. I go up to the counter and find an unfamiliar face behind it. He''s pretty pimply and looks to be around eighteen or nineteen.

    "Can I help you?" He asks after a few moments.

    Oh, crap. I didn''t say anything. What was I doing? Crap, crap, crap. I can''t remember!

    "Did you need something?" The pimply teen asks.

    What did I do wrong? Why is his tone really rude? I screwed up again! I''m so stupid that I forgot what I was doing just because I saw a new face and now he''s mad at me. He''s even glaring at me now.

    "Oh, hey, Xander!" A friendly voice greets me and I look over to see a worker coming out of the back. "Erik, stop being rude, you''re scaring the kid."

    The other worker is Lena, a girl in her early twenties with more caramel-colored skin, her dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail. I''m used to seeing her when I come in and I''ve never seen Erik before.

    "Wanting to rent a lane for an hour again?" Lena asks.

    "Y-yes," I nod.

    "Awesome," she says. "That''ll be ten dollars like usual, buddy."

    I hand her the ten.

    "Same shoe size?" She asks as she puts the money in the register.

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Alright," she says. "Give me just a sec and I''ll grab those for you."

    Lena finishing putting the money away, then goes to the wall of shoe cubbies and grabs a pair of shoes. I pull off my sneakers while waiting for that, then trade them to her. We''re supposed to do that here as a precaution, so that people are more likely to return the rented shoes. I don''t like to steal but I think it''s a good policy so I always do it.

    "They''re doing a discount at the concessions stand tonight," Lena tells me. "All week, actually. Half off of all combos. And if you want to play in the arcade, you get ten percent more tokens if you buy in multiples of five dollars."

    I''ve never played in the arcade here, but I will already receive ten percent more tokens if I played. I''m not sure how the special works with that.

    "Okay," I say. "Thank you."

    "You''re welcome," she tells me. "You''re on Lane 20, by the way, and you can have it until ten. Have fun."

    "Thank you," I say, then move off to the side so that I can put on the bowling shoes.

    Once those are on, I make my way over to the concessions stand and examine their goods. All of the combos are normally ten dollars which means they''re all five dollars today. If I wanted, I could buy two combos rather than the just the one I normally do.

    All combos come with a drink and fries, and the main part can be nachos (with or without cheese), a burger (with or without cheese), a pair of hot dogs (with or without cheese), or a pair of large soft pretzels (with or without cheese). Extras cost extra. They also have some sides for an extra five dollars, so I could buy a combo and one of those.

    "Hey, Xander," the worker behind the counter greets me as I approach. "What do you want today?"

    "Could I please get a burger with cheese, onion, pickle, and ketchup," I ask. "As a combo? And I can get lemonade instead of a soft drink, right?"

    "Always," he says.

    "Alright," I say. "Then I would please like a lemonade for my drink. And¡­ could I please get a side of mozzarella sticks and marinara with that?"

    "Ooh, shaking things up a bit," he says. "Extra money means extra food, huh?"

    Extra money. That''s right, I have an extra ten dollars still from the expanded allowance Ms. Johnson gave me. She refused to take it back when I remembered to try and return it to her, telling me that it was a reward. Then I got my allowance again this week. It''s based on what grade we''re in (or have finished), so I have thirty-five dollars since I haven''t started the eighth grade yet.

    I normally spend twenty dollars here to rent a lane for an hour on Tuesdays and then buy a combo, and another five dollars on Saturdays to buy a slice of cheesecake. The other ten dollars usually gets put into an emergency fund I have hidden. I was so stupid for forgetting that on Saturday. It''s rare for me to spend it on anything else.

    "You okay, buddy?" Chris, the worker at the concessions counter, asks, and I realize I got side-tracked in my thoughts again.

    "Sorry," I say.

    "It''s cool, man," he says. "So your usual burger combo, plus a side of mozza sticks?"

    "Could I please get a second combo, too?" I ask. "O-or am I only allowed one?"

    "You can get two," he says. "What''ll it be? A second burger?"

    "Could I please get a pretzel combo, with cheese?" I ask.

    "Sure thing," Chris says. "Ringing that up now aaaaaaaaaaaaaand fifteen dollars!"

    I hand him the money and he puts it in the register.

    "You on Lane 20 again?" He asks, and I nod. "Want to wait here or want us to bring it over to you?"

    "I would like it brought over to me, if that''s okay."

    When they bring it over to me, it makes me feel special. That''s really stupid, I know, especially since they offer that to most customers. It doesn''t change that it makes me feel special to have someone bring me my food instead of me needing to pick it up at the counter.

    "It sure is," Chris tells me. "You go have fun now, yeah?"

    "Thank you."

    I go to the bowling ball stands and look for a ball that works for me, then head over to Lane 20 and put in my name for the player. They let us put in whatever we want but I always put in my name so that I don''t get into trouble for trying to claim something I''m not.

    Now that the lane is set up, I start bowling. I don''t really understand how this activity works other than that I''m supposed to hit the pins with the ball and that I''m not supposed to cross the line at the start of the lane. Also that I''m supposed to roll the ball and not throw it. Despite that, I find this activity agreeable so I like coming here to do it ever since I discovered it about a year and a half ago.

    The scoring system doesn''t make much sense to me. I always knock down all of the pins and always get a 300 for my score now, but some other kids I usually see get happy if they manage to get a score that''s 250-275 so I think that we''re supposed to get spares in addition to strikes. Not knocking down all of the pins on the first try bothers me, though, so I don''t try to mess up. It bothered me that I couldn''t hit them all with one hit when I started because it made me feel like a failure and I like feeling like I can do something.

    That''s why I like bowling. As long as I don''t learn the rest of the rules and don''t know what the proper score range should be, I can''t know for sure that I''m screwing up.

    A few minutes into my first game, the group of boys I usually see show up. They include the black-haired boy I saw playing at the park on Saturday and three of the guys he was playing with. Their whole group were the shirtless ones during the game.

    Unlike me, they all have duffel bags with them, which carry their own bowling shoes and their own bowling balls. Not needing a ball or pair of shoes from the bowling alley means they get cheaper rent on the lane, too.

    The black-haired boy and his friends are on Lane 18, so two lanes away from me, but that''s close enough that I''ll probably hear them a lot. I have really good ears and they tend to be a bit rambunctious. Even now, the black-haired boy is being his usual goofball self and is pretending one of his friends'' bowling shoes is a hat.

    They''re usually here before I am, so I''m a bit curious about why they showed up so late. I can''t just go and ask them that, though, so I keep bowling on my own. Chris eventually brings me the food I ordered, apologizing about it taking so long.

    "The goofballs on 18 spent awhile figuring out their orders," he whispers to me. "And they ordered a lot, too, so it''s taking some time to make and the idiot in the back forgot to put yours on."

    I don''t know how to respond to that because I don''t think it''s fine but the expected answer is "it''s fine". If I say that it''d be a lie and then I''d get into trouble for lying and maybe even banned from here and I don''t want to get banned because I like this place.

    "Thank you," I tell him.

    That should be a safer answer. It seems to be a good one, too, based on Chris''s response.

    "Have fun with your bowling," Chris tells me, then heads back to the concessions area.

    Now that I have my food, I eat a little while I play as well. I do make sure that my hands are clean before I handle the bowling ball again as I don''t want to get into trouble for not doing that. The pretzels are tastier than I expected they would be but I have to pull off some of the salt on them as they''re too salty for me. When the other boys get their food, it takes up their entire table. They really did order a lot.

    Now I want nachos.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú Starts during Xander''s PoV

    "Hi, Mr. Thompson!" I greet my best friend''s dad as I get into the back seat of his car.

    Connor is already back here of course. His bowling bag is sitting on the middle seat, and I plop mine onto it as I close the door, then buckle up.

    "Sorry I wasn''t ready," I say. "My parents wanted me to do some extra chores."

    They popped the chores on me last-minute, so I had to text Connor and let him know that I was going to be late to the bowling alley. Rather than all of them starting without me and then one of the dads coming to pick me up, they decided to push it back until after I finished.

    "It''s fine," Mr. Thompson says. "You''ll be coming over for the sleepover after, right? I don''t need to take you back home once you boys finish?"

    "Heck yeah!" I answer.

    "Hey, you didn''t say hi to me!" Connor protests.

    "Oh, you were in here?" I ask. "Didn''t notice you."

    "Hey!" Connor pokes at my side.

    "Oi!" I poke him back.

    "Boys!" Mr. Thompson laughs as he starts driving. "Save it for after we get to the house. The last thing we need to night is for one of you to accidentally crack a skull on the very hard and heavy bowling balls between you."

    "How hard do you think we''d have to hit them to break something?" I ask Connor.

    "Please don''t test to find out," Mr. Thompson chuckles. "Here, at the alley, at the house, or anywhere."

    "Does the ocean count?"

    "We are nowhere near an ocean," Mr. Thompson tells me. "How much sugar have you had in the last few hours?"

    "None!" I answer. "So I''m looking forward to gorging myself on ice cream ''till I pop!"

    "How much ice cream would it take to make a person explode?" Connor asks.

    "You boys are not going to try and test that."

    "Oh! Oh! Oh!" I bounce in my seat. "Did you hear, did you hear, did you hear? Apparently, some little kid convinced a bomb squad to let him observe them doing some bomb blowing-ups! I heard he tried convincing them to put balloons on the bombs, too! Not any special balloons, just ones like you''d buy at the store to blow up for a birthday party!"

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "No, I didn''t hear about that," Mr. Thompson says. "I think that''s just one of those weird rumors that float around. You had your magic lesson yesterday, right?"

    "Yeah!" I answer. "But this is way more interesting! I don''t think it''s a rumor! The post was from one of my classmates and she said that her dad was one of the bomb squad guys who was trying to wrangle the kid. She says her dad said that he kept blowing up balloons in the bomb shelter. He was doing it with wind magics, too!"

    "Let''s get back to your magics," Mr. Thompson chuckles. "How did the lesson go?"

    I take lessons in wind magics every two weeks if I can afford it. I was able to this time so I spent two hours learning more about wind magics. My first lesson in them was last July so it''s been almost a year now and I''m approaching the middle of beginner-level. I think. My teacher says that I''m learning quickly.

    Magic isn''t something just anyone can learn as someone without a magical bloodline usually struggles. My family is rather ordinary, but I''m putting in a lot of work and making sure to do training exercises even outside of the lessons. Every little bit helps to build up skill, power, and magical energy ¨C all of which are needed to become truly proficient in magic.

    Since I''m just starting out, it''s better for me to focus on one area until I''m more familiar with magic. That''s why I''m focusing on wind magics right now, though the idea of one day getting to fly using it also factored in to this.

    "Yesterday''s lesson was all about how to make small objects float using manipulation of the air," I say. "It''s a basic application of it but it still takes a lot of focus and effort."

    "Flight magic?" Connor asks. "I thought that was advanced!"

    "Wasn''t flight," I shake my head. "But it''s one of the basics used for flight magics. This was more like levitation, and I can only manage a small object for about five minutes before I run out of juice. The trick is beginner-level and is used in proper flight, but its main purpose is actually control."

    "How so?" Connor asks.

    "You have to create and manipulate wind for it," I say. "Nonstop. Rather than the normal exercises she''s been having me do, I have to maintain an object in a steady position throughout. This means adjusting the wind''s flow to avoid even bobbing. I can''t do that yet but will manage it one day if I practice enough."

    That''s one of the reasons it''s so draining for me. Well, and also because I don''t have much magical energy of my own. Even with me doubling my capacity for it over the last year of training, it''s still a rather small amount.

    We continue talking about my magic lessons on the way to the bowling alley, where we meet up with our other core friends, Sam and Isaac. Their dads are here as well, and the three dads rent their own lane to bowl in while the four of us boys get our own lane, Lane 18. Super Striker is probably already here since he usually shows up a few minutes before nine and it''s a little past that, but we''re going to order our food before heading to our lane.

    To my delight, the combo meals are half-off, which results in the four of us taking longer to order as we try to decide what to eat. Once that''s done, we finally head over to our lane. Just as I expected, Super Striker is here.

    Well, I think his name''s Xander since that''s what he always puts as his name for the computer, but we usually call him Super Striker because he always scores a strike. Always.

    He used to not, back when he first started coming here a year and a half ago. We think his parents forced him into bowling competitively or something and he was coming here on his own time to try and get better. Then once he got better (at an absurd pace), we think he continued coming here just to relax and bowl without pressure.

    Whatever his reason for coming, Xander tends to be really jumpy around other people. That''s part of why we haven''t tried to make friends with him. We''ve seen what happens when other kids have attempted to talk with him.

    I really want to talk to him and ask him if he wants to bowl with us, but we stay way later than he does and I think our energy would scare him away from this place if we actually did try that.

    Connor, Sam, Isaac, and I switch into our bowling shoes once we''re at the lane, then get started on our game of bowling. We don''t play professionally or as part of a club or anything, we only play it because we find it fun. Despite that, we''re all really good at it. Isaac and I usually score around 235-245 while Connor and Sam usually manage 230-240. None of us got as good as this as fast as Xander managed, though. It''s almost like he was using magic ¨C which isn''t really possible since the balls and bowling area are enchanted specifically to prevent that.

    My instructor also told me that it would be obvious if someone was using magic to cheat here for a variety of reasons. That means that Xander really did get this good on his own. Though I suppose he could be psychic, but I doubt that. He just seems too genuine.

    When our food comes, we notice that Xander keeps glancing over at us for some reason. He ordered plenty of food, himself, and has been eating between strikes. While I''m bowling my third game, Xander suddenly hurries over to the food area. That''s unusual, he never leaves his lane once he starts. Not until it''s time for him to leave.

    Then the Super Striker returns with a nachos combo and it seems like he''s hurriedly shoving them in his mouth as if he''s scared someone''s going to steal them. That kind of makes me giggle a little.

    "What''s funny?" Connor gives me a playful shove.

    "Super Striker," I say. "He went and got nachos and looks like he''s trying to make sure no one else gets them."

    Connor looks over, then giggles at the brown-haired master bowler. A bunch of nacho cheese is covering the area around Xander''s lips and he looks a bit confused as to how to get it all off. At the moment, he''s trying to lick it off.

    "He does know that napkins exist, right?" Connor whispers to me.

    "Who does?" Isaac asks.

    "Super Striker," I point over while giggling.

    Isaac looks over, then starts giggling as well. Soon, all four of us are laughing and it takes us a few minutes to calm down. I don''t know why that''s funny but it is. Not in a bad kind of funny. That''s the sort of thing we''d tease each other about in good fun if we saw one of us doing it.

    Once we calm down, we return to our game, though Isaac also busts out some cards so we can play Go Fish between turns. With four of us here and all four of us being goofballs, it usually takes us close to two hours to finish playing a single game.

    Xander finishes playing about ten minutes to ten, then gathers up his trash and throws it away before putting the ball away and leaving.

    "You should talk to him," Connor gives me a light shove.

    "He''s already almost to the desk," I say.

    "No," Connor says. "I mean next week. He probably won''t be able to play a game with us, but he might be interested in chatting or something."

    "The only person he talks to are the staff," I remind him. "And why me? You''re more social."

    "Yeah, but you''re less weird."

    "He''s got a point," Isaac says.

    "About what?" Sam joins us, having just finished his turn.

    "That I''m the least weird member of our friend group."

    "Oh, please," Sam rolls his eyes. "You''re not even in the same league of weirdness as us."

    "None of us are in the same league as Super Striker," I say. "Yet you guys want me to be the one to chat with him?"

    "He''d probably be more friendly with you," Connor says. "He''d probably ''feel our energy'' or something like that and nope out. You''re more calm. More chill."

    "I wore a shoe as a hat."

    "Still the least-weird one of us."

    "Fair enough."

    It''s my turn to bowl, so I take my turn before eating a little bit more. Our game ends up finishing close to eleven. When we compare our scores, I come out in second place at 243 while Isaac managed 244, just one point ahead of me. That''s pretty close.

    We change our shoes and put our bowling balls back into our bags, then meet with the dads who are a few lanes over.

    "You all coming over in Mr. Thompson''s car?" Mr. Michaels, Isaac''s dad, asks.

    "Cram us in like sardines in a can!" Connor pumps a fist up into the air.

    "We''re going with your dad regardless," I snort.

    The decision ends up being that, though, so we say goodbye to Isaac''s and Sam''s dads after we exit the building. Cramming us into the car isn''t something we have an issue with, especially since the ride isn''t too long and it lets us all chat more on the way. Our bags do have to go into the trunk, though.

    Once we reach Connor''s house, we head down to the basement, which is mostly set up like a rec space. There''s a utility room that has things like the main water heater in it and some storage, then there''s also a bathroom with an attached shower room that has four heads in it, and the rest of the space is set up for hanging out and playing games and stuff. We quickly shower and change into our lounge clothes (shorts and tees) and hop onto the couch to play video games.

    "You seemed a bit bummed earlier," Sam pokes me.

    "What?" I ask. "No! I was as energetic as always while playing! And ha! You scored the least today!"

    "Not then," he shakes his head. "Before, when we were chatting. Your parents were at work, right? But something was wrong."

    "Oh, that," I sigh. "Mr. Greene said he doesn''t want me mowing his lawn anymore, so I''m out that fifteen. Gonna see if I can find another yard to mow instead."

    Fifteen dollars doesn''t sound like much but it''s a lot to me since doing stuff like mowing yards helps me pay for things like eating out with my friends, buying video games, replacing parts to my computer when needed, and so on.

    "Hey!" Connor exclaims. "No depresso here! I''m gonna go get some ice cream and we''re gonna build the biggest sundae we can!"

    That sounds like the sort of terror we''d never get away with during the school year. Oh, wait, that''s right, we''ve tried that and gotten in trouble. But we don''t have school tomorrow so there''s no reason for us to have to worry about getting hyped up on sugar this late!

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    Being out of my room this late is bad. Really, really bad. Against the rules even if I can''t sleep. I already took a shower and got changed into my pajamas and went to bed, so I need to be careful not to get caught. If I do, Ms. Johnson or one of the other staff members is going to beat me really bad.

    But I forgot to do something and I don''t want to get beaten for it if I get caught so I need to do this when no one else is awake. I really hope no one catches me because this is me being bad and I don''t like being bad and I don''t want to get beaten for breaking the rules.

    "Xander?" Ms. Johnson startles me.

    "I''M SORRY! PLEASE DON''T BEAT ME!"

    Ms. Johnson doesn''t say anything and that only makes me more scared. I''m in so much trouble for breaking the rules and I was just trying not to get caught for something else and now I''m gonna never get to go bowling again!

    As I try to beg for forgiveness, something sort-of soft gets pressed into my arms. That kind of confuses me for a moment and then I realize that I''m curled up on the ground again. I was told it''s called the fetal position but I''m not sure what that means. My hands were on the back of my head and neck but nothing hit them. The beating didn''t start yet.

    Moving my hands to the item, I quickly register its familiar texture. It''s Trenton, my teddy bear. I was told that I was found with him as a baby. He''s a medium-light brown teddy bear with a green-and-white checkered bowtie and is missing his right eye. His fur isn''t really that soft or fluffy and is actually a little bit rough, but I curl up around him as I hug him tightly. Having him in my arms always makes me feel just a little bit safer.

    "Xander?" Ms. Johnson softly says after a few minutes.

    "I''m sorry," I sniffle.

    "What were you doing out of your room?" She asks.

    "I didn''t want to get in trouble."

    "You never want to," she says. "That''s why I was surprised to see you breaking the rules, Xander. Why were you out of your room? It''s nearly midnight."

    "I didn''t want to get into trouble. I''m sorry! Please don''t beat me! I''ll try to behave!"

    "Trouble?" Ms. Johnson asks. "If you were trying to sneak somewhere so you could eat the gummy bears, it wasn''t really necessary. Nick wouldn''t have asked you for some if you wanted to sneak some in your room, though it''s better you don''t eat sweets during the night. That can make it hard to sleep."

    "I wasn''t gonna eat them, promise!"

    "I''d hope not all of them," she says. "Not at once, anyway. That''s a three-pound bag of them! You''d make yourself sick and be on the toilet for hours."

    "No! At all!"

    "At all? What were you planning with them?"

    "I was gonna put them in the snacks cabinet. I''m sorry for breaking the rules! Please don''t beat me!"

    "The snacks cabinet?" Ms. Johnson asks. "Xander, you don''t need to use your allowance to buy food for everyone."

    "But you said buy food."

    "That''s not what I¡­ Xander, I was suggesting that you buy food for yourself," Ms. Johnson says. "Not for the other boys. Let me try to understand this though, okay? I''m going to say a few things, and wait for me to finish before correcting anything that''s wrong, alright?"

    I''m not allowed to correct people. I''m stupid and don''t know what''s right or wrong, especially if I''m not looking in someone''s eyes when they say stuff.

    "You thought I was suggesting you buy food for everyone," Ms. Johnson says. "So you bought a three-pound bag of gummy bears. You snuck out of your room at midnight to put them in the snacks cabinet. Am I correct so far?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Why not wait until morning to put them in the cabinet?"

    "So I don''t get into trouble."

    "For what?"

    "For having sweets."

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "Who said you aren''t allowed to have sweets?"

    "The rule is that we aren''t allowed to have sweets without permission."

    "That''s not¡­" Ms. Johnson sighs. I''m really in trouble, aren''t I? "Xander, the rules is that you can''t have a snack from here without permission. You''re allowed to have snacks if you buy it with your allowance. Don''t you get cheesecake every week?"

    "No."

    "¡­every week that the weather is nice enough for you to make the trip?"

    "No."

    "¡­and ones where you''re allowed to leave?"

    "No."

    She''s quiet for a few moments. I''m in a lot of trouble for correcting her, aren''t I? But it''s true! I don''t want to get into trouble for lying but now I''m gonna get into trouble for saying she''s wrong! Not only that, but I was doing it by saying ''no'', which is a word I''m not supposed to say because only bad boys say it! Why am I such a horrible kid?

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "In the general sense of things, you go to get cheesecake every weekend. That doesn''t mean literally every weekend, but essentially enough that it can be counted as every weekend. Does that make sense?"

    "¡­no?"

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says. "Do you get permission when you go to get the cheesecake?"

    "But I already have permission for that."

    "You do?" She sounds surprised.

    "I-I-I''ve been sneaking out and getting sweets without permission? I didn''t know it I thought we had an agreement that let me I''m so sorry please don''t beat me Ms. Johnson I''ll try not to break the rules again I''m so sorry please forgive me I''ll be a good boy I promise I''ll do my best I''m really sorry-"

    "Xander," Ms. Johnson says as I take a breath. "You''re not sneaking out when you leave for your Saturday walks, we know you do it. What was the agreement you thought we had?"

    "That-that as long as I had my chores done, my grades were good," she says ''oh'' there for some reason and that makes me nervous. "I wasn''t needed for anything," a second ''oh!'' Oh, no! "The weather was nice, I had been on my best behavior," an ''ah''! No! What am I saying wrong? "And I didn''t have any appointments or meets or anything like that," this one gets an ''oh right''! Noooo! "Then on Saturdays, I could go to the pet store to pet the dogs and buy a slice of cheesecake as a reward!"

    "That''s not¡­ Xander, could you please sit up for me?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    I uncurl myself and sit up, but still hug Trenton to my chest as I sit with my legs crisscrossed.

    "Xander," she says. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to make you freak out. I wasn''t thinking of that as a special arrangement or agreement. You''re free to do with your allowance as you wish as long as you aren''t doing anything inappropriate or illegal. All of the boys here are, not just you. And all of you boys are allowed to spend your Saturday afternoons out if you want to as long as you''ve behaved, aren''t needed for anything, aren''t grounded, and so on. I don''t see that as something you get permission to do but a privilege you have. Does that make sense."

    This has me all sorts of confused now.

    "Maybe?"

    "It''s okay to be uncertain," she says. "Now, regarding the gummy bears. You thought you had to buy sweets for the other boys so you bought a three-pound bag of gummy bears?"

    "Yes."

    "And¡­" she thinks for a few moments. "And you thought you weren''t allowed to have them and that if you got caught with them, you''d get into trouble, so you were sneaking through the house to put them in the snack''s cabinet before you got into trouble?"

    "Yes. I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to break the rules! I was trying really hard not to wake anyone! Please don''t beat me, Ms. Johnson! I promise I''ll try my best to stay in my room at night again! I''m really sorry!"

    "Xander," she says. "Considering the circumstances, I''m going to let it pass. You''re not in trouble, okay?"

    "I-I''m not?"

    "You were going to put them in the cabinet and then return straight to your room, right?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Then in this case, I think we can give it a pass, alright?" She asks. "Why don''t you go to your room and dry your tears, then get some sleep? Do you want the gummy bears?"

    "I-I-I bought them for the others, though."

    "It''s okay to change your mind, Xander," she says. "You didn''t know you misunderstood me. Do you want to take the bag back?"

    That''s the expensive brand. I spent some of the money I saved up to help cover the extra cost rather than the cheaper five-dollar bag. I''m not supposed to have expensive things to myself. If I try to, the other boys will get really mad at me and they''re already going to be mad that I woke them up.

    "No."

    "Are you sure?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Alright," she says. "I''ll put them away. Go on back to bed, alright? And remember that you don''t need to get up early tomorrow since there''s no school."

    "Yes, ma''am."

    At least the lack of school is a positive thing.

 Chapter 003

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Do you have everything?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "Yes, ma''am," I answer.

    "You remembered to pack all of your clothes?"

    "Yes, ma''am," I feel my grip tightening on the suitcase with all of my clothes except the ones I''m wearing in it. "They''re in here."

    "You packed your toiletries?"

    "Yes, ma''am," I answer. "They''re also in here."

    "You have Trenton?"

    "He''s in my backpack."

    "You have your emergency money stash?"

    "Yes, ma-you-"

    "Yes, I know about it," Ms. Johnson smiles at me for a moment. "Do you have your journal?"

    I guess thinking that I could hide money was a stupid move on my part. Of course Ms. Johnson would know I was hiding money, I''m not that clever. She probably found it and realized the serial numbers were the same ones for some of the bills she gave me for allowance the very first time I put money aside.

    "Yes, ma''am," I answer. "It''s also in my backpack."

    "Alright," she says. "I did just hear a car pulling up so it looks like it''s almost time for you to go. Remember that if you ever feel unsafe there, you can always call me and we''ll remove you from there and bring you back here, okay?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Please do that instead of running away, alright?" She asks. "Unless you feel like you''re in immediate danger, then you can run and call me as soon as you''re able, alright?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "Alright," she says. "Did you say goodbye to Nick?"

    It''s barely after six in the morning so nearly everyone else is still asleep. Mr. Caldwell let Ms. Johnson know yesterday that he was ready and the paperwork and stuff was actually signed yesterday. There was a going-away party for me last night, which was kind of scary especially because I know a lot of the other boys were still mad at me for waking them up a few nights ago. Not even the fact that they got expensive gummy bears helped reduce their annoyance.

    Nick is my roommate and he''s probably the only one of the other boys here who wasn''t that annoyed. I later found out that he''s the one who got Trenton for me after I freaked out like the pathetic kid I am.

    "I said goodbye to him last night in case he wasn''t awake in time for me to leave," I tell Ms. Johnson. "He was asleep and I didn''t want to wake him up."

    Doing that twice in one week would definitely annoy him.

    "Let me get that," Ms. Johnson says right after there''s a knock on the door.

    Ms. Johnson opens the door and greets Mr. Caldwell, who returns the greeting before greeting me.

    "Hello," I greet him back.

    "Is everything good?" Mr. Caldwell asks Ms. Johnson.

    "Yes," she answers. "You''re free to take Xander home now. Xander? Goodbye."

    "Bye, Ms. Johnson," I tell her.

    I follow Mr. Caldwell out to his car and find myself a little bit relieved that it''s an SUV. Not only that, but its license plate is COS 1339, which is good. No even numbers or letters with straight edges. Not only that but it has both 13 and 39 in it! Those are lucky numbers for me. We probably won''t get into an accident.

    "Would you be more comfortable sitting in the front seat or back seat?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    This is a trick question. He wants me to sit up front so that I''m closer to him and that''s the ''correct'' answer. But saying I''d be more comfortable in the front seat would be a lie. A full-on lie since I''d be uncomfortable in the front seat. Lying would earn me a beating, though, so if I said that, I''d get punished and we''ve not even left the property yet! But if I''m honest with my answer, I''d also get a beating for not saying what he wants me to say!

    "Let me rephrase that," Mr. Caldwell says. "Do you want to sit up front so that you can see out the front window better, or do you want to sit in the back seat and feel like you''re being driven by a chauffeur like an important kid?"

    That makes it clear this is a trick question because I''m not an important kid. It''s better to just be honest and deal with getting beaten for it and told I have to sit in the front.

    "I-I''d be more comfortable in the back seat."

    "Alright then," Mr. Caldwell says. "Hop in the back. You sit on either side or the middle if you want. Backpack can go on the seat, your lap, or the floor, it''s up to you. I''ll get your suitcase."

    There''s no beating? A little bit confused by his response, I climb into the back seat behind the driver''s seat. That''ll make it harder for him to grab me. I put my backpack on my lap while Mr. Caldwell puts my suitcase into the trunk, then he gets into the driver''s seat and pulls out of the parking lot.

    "Is there anything you''re going to miss from the home?" Mr. Caldwell asks as he drives.

    "Not getting beatings."

    "You won''t get any beatings at my place either," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "There are going to be some ground rules to follow, but you won''t get beaten for breaking them. I''ll talk with you about the violation and the punishment, which will typically be either just a grounding or some extra chores for a little while. And before you worry that I''m going to lump a bunch of rules on you all at once, I''m not going to. That''s more than likely going to cause some of them to go in one ear and out the other."

    I have no idea what that means. How could they go in one ear and out the other? They aren''t physical, and I''m pretty sure even physical things can''t normally do that without causing severe brain damage. That could just me being stupid, though. That''s probably what it is, I''m just stupid and it''s possible.

    "But there are a couple of things I want to talk with you about while I drive, okay?" Mr. Caldwell says. "Since you mentioned the beatings thing. If I ever do something to scare you, I want you to tell me, okay? I''ve never had a child before and I want you to be comfortable and for you to feel safe in my home. This is going to be a learning experience for me especially as we get to know each other and if I scare you it''s going to be by accident. It''s better for me to know so that I can try to avoid doing it again, alright?"

    This doesn''t sound like something I can trust. If I tell him he''s scaring me he''s probably just going to beat me for saying he''s scary.

    "Alright."

    That''s a neutral answer. It''s just me acknowledging what he said. I hope that''s enough to satisfy him.

    "And in that same vein," Mr. Caldwell says. "If you don''t like something, please let me know, especially when it comes to food. There might be times we''ll have food you don''t like that I do, but I''ll try to have it so that most of our meals are something we both like and if you don''t like it, then something separate is prepared for you. I wasn''t aware you didn''t like chocolate until Ms. Johnson let me know. She also told me that you don''t like seafood so don''t expect it to be prepared too often. If you don''t let me know you don''t like something, though, then we might just keep having it served. Alright?"

    "Alright."

    This one I''m a bit uncertain on. Normally I''d assume he''s asking me so that he knows what to serve more of but¡­ he brought something without chocolate for his last visit to the home. Then again, I suppose that could have just been to impress Ms. Johnson and make her trust him more.

    "The third and final thing I want to discuss with you right now," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Is that you''ll still be getting an allowance. You''ll receive it on Sundays and it''s going to work a little bit different than you''re used to."

    That has me concerned, especially since Mr. Caldwell thinks for a few moments before continuing.

    "I looked up a bunch of things about giving kids allowance," he says. "And they all said things like ''fifty cents to two dollars per year of age'' and I think that''s a little ridiculous. Twenty-four dollars for a twelve-year-old boy? Have they seen how much things cost? A large bag of chips costs four dollars and a pubescent boy can eat that in one sitting. And then they''re saying to make the kid put half of it into savings. Make the kid. That''s not an allowance if it''s not something you can use as a fun fund each week."

    Mr. Caldwell seems really annoyed. What did I do wrong? Was I supposed to answer? I''m so confused and scared! Please don''t beat me!

    "First," Mr. Caldwell says. "I want to know how much you spend at the bowling alley each time you visit, Xander."

    Something I can focus on. I need to be honest here, but he''s probably going to make sure that my allowance is lower than this.

    "Um¡­ usually twenty dollars."

    "Alright," he says. "That''s not going to come out of your allowance from now on, Xander. It probably should but I don''t really care."

    I''m not allowed to go bowling anymore? But I love going to the bowling alley on Tuesday nights! Maybe that''s why¡­

    "You can go bowling on Tuesdays if you''ve behaved yourself for the past week," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I''ll give you thirty dollars to spend there. What you don''t spend from that should be returned to me that night or the next day, but you can spend as much of it as you want at the bowling alley. The reason for this is that at this point, bowling is more like a cross between a hobby and a sport for you so I''ve decided to view it the same as if you were doing something like playing baseball, soccer, hockey, basketball, football, and so on."

    I don''t know what that means.

    "In other words," oh, he''s explaining it. Stupid me. "That means that it''s something that I bear the cost of, not your allowance. I can see your reflection in my mirror a little and you look confused. Do you have a question? You can ask and I''ll do my best to answer."

    Asking scares me but Mr. Caldwell''s expecting a response.

    "H-how is it a hobby and a sport?" I ask.

    "Hm¡­" he thinks about his response for a moment. "Well, it can be either. It''s probably more of a hobby for you, something you do just for fun. Normally, a hobby should probably come out of your allowance but I''m seeing bowling as a different type of hobby. It''s a bit complicated to explain, but the result is that I''m going to give you the money to go bowling rather than make it come out of your allowance. Ms. Johnson told me that you put ten dollars from your weekly allowance into savings each week and that leaves you with almost nothing if you go bowling, which I assume goes into buying the cheesecake?"

    I''m not really sure what the question is, but I think there''s an answer I''m supposed to give that''s safe for me to do.

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "This will give you a little bit of extra money," he tells me. "So that you can buy some games or a cool shirt or whatever your mood strikes as. Junk food if you want it. Toys. However, there are some things that I might buy for you so you can always ask me first. If you want a hundred-dollar shirt, I''ll probably say it needs to come out of your allowance, but if you just want to get a couple of new shirts to update your wardrobe, then I''ll probably buy them instead. Do you understand?"

    "Maybe?"

    "What do you understand?"

    I''ve never been asked that before. It confuses me a little. Not the question itself, just¡­ being asked it.

    "My allowance is meant for me to buy toys, games, clothes, and junk food," I say. "But if I want to buy something, to ask you first so that I can find out if you''ll buy it for me instead of me buying it with my allowance."

    "Not quite," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "It''s meant for you to spend or save however you wish. However, there might be some things that you want to get that I will be okay with buying instead of requiring you to spend your allowance on. If we''re at the store getting groceries and you want some chips? Ask me if we can get them. I''ll either say something like ''go ahead and get it'' or ''if you want that, you''ll need to buy it''. The first one means I''m paying for it, the second one means I won''t. Does that make more sense?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Alright," he says. "I asked Ms. Johnson how much the allowance there was and she mentioned that starting in the first grade, you boys receive five dollars a week per grade you were in at or above the first grade. So since you just finished seventh grade, that''s thirty-five dollars a week. You took out ten to put into savings, five for one dessert a week, and the remaining twenty was used just to go bowling. I''m going to keep your allowance the same, but do you understand how it works a little bit differently now?"

    It''s not how I receive the allowance that differs but how it gets spent. At least, that''s my understanding of this. I want to ask if I''m right but am a little bit scared of making him repeat himself. That probably means I''m understanding it now so saying ''yes'' probably isn''t lying.

    "Yes."

    "Glad to hear that," Mr. Caldwell says. "Though you''ll still have to be on good behavior to receive it each Sunday, okay?"

    "I''ll try my best."

    The rest of the ride is silent and that only makes my nervousness grow. I find Trenton in my arms at some point, uncertain of when I pulled him out. We soon arrive at a large two-story house with a stone wall around the large property and an actual proper gate at the front. Complete with a gate house and a security guard.

    Mr. Caldwell introduces me to the guard but I''m a bit too nervous and scared to greet him like I''m supposed to. Fortunately, I don''t get yelled at for that but Mr. Caldwell does have me put my right hand on a scanner thing the guard presents to me, then he tells me to punch in a number I can remember easily. It''s my gate code so that I can enter if there''s no one here.

    Then we reach the garage and¡­ it has room for four cars. The SUV takes up one spot, a minivan takes up another, a pickup truck takes up a third, and a sedan takes up the fourth. I knew he was rich but I didn''t think he was four-cars rich. That only makes me more scared of him.

    Upon exiting the car, a man who looks to be in his early twenties comes down some stairs at the back of the garage. Much like Mr. Caldwell, this man is dressed in a suit, though his hair is black and his eyes are green. Is this Mr. Caldwell''s husband? If he likes them that young then maybe he''s gonna do stuff to me. I need to call Ms. Johnson. How can I do that without getting caught?

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says as the younger man walks over. "This is Quinn. He''ll be here from around seven in the morning to sometime between seven and eight in the evening on Thursdays through Sundays most weeks. I hired him solely to act as a driver for you. That way, if you want to go into town and don''t want to walk or ask me, you can ask him. All you need to do is tell him where you want to go and as long as you''re allowed, he''ll take you there. So no asking him to go to a bar, you''re a bit too young for that."

    I don''t want to drink alcohol again, anyway. The past times were awful experiences for me. It would probably be my choice this time but I still don''t want to.

    Wait. Why would he hire a driver for me? Is that so that he can spy on me if I ever get to go out?

    "That said," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "You do still need to let me know you''re leaving, where you''re going, and when you expect to be back. The reason for this is so that if you aren''t back on time, I can call you to see if you''re okay. This way, if something happens to you I can get the appropriate people involved."

    I''m confused by what he means so I just nod to let him know I''ll follow his rules. I don''t like it because it means he''s gonna know where I am at all times and then start banning me from it for stuff that I wasn''t aware I did. But I have to follow the rules. It''s creepy when people want to know where I am at all times. Really creepy and scary.

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell crouches down a little so that he''s able to look me in the eyes. "This is for your own safety, I promise. If you do something like go to the park and get hungry and decide to go to a restaurant that''s right across the street, you won''t need to update me. But if you''re at the park and decide to go somewhere a bit further away, it''s best if you tell me. That way if something happens like you getting hit by a car on a side street or kidnapped or something, I know where to start the search when you don''t return home. It''s also one of the reasons I hired a driver for you ¨C so that you are a little bit safer. Can you look at Quinn for a moment?"

    I look over at Quinn then back to my sneakers.

    "For a few moments longer than that, Xander," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Once you do, Quinn''s going to show you something under his jacket."

    Scared, I look over and Quinn pulls back the right side of his jacket to reveal a gun. Now I''m really scared.

    "If someone tries to hurt you while Quinn is with you," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "He''s going to do his best to stop them. Quinn isn''t just a driver, he''s a bodyguard. If you''re ever out and you didn''t leave with Quinn and you start feeling scared for your safety, you can also call Quinn to come pick you up or come protect you."

    "I just finished my second tour as part of the special magic forces," Quinn tells me. My estimate of his age must have been off. "I''m trained in hand-to-hand combat, shooting a gun, and magical combat. Even if I''m not on-the-clock, you can still call me if you''re out and start getting scared for your safety."

    Quinn hands me a business card that has his name and a phone number on it.

    "That''s my phone number," Quinn tells me. "If I see it''s you calling or that you''ve called, I''ll answer or call back immediately."

    I''m now both really confused and really suspicious. Why do they think I need a bodyguard? I''m just a worthless, pathetic piece of shit. There''s nothing about me that warrants getting a bodyguard.

    "Come on," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Let''s go meet more of the staff."

    He''s got a beating staff, too?

    Mr. Caldwell pulls my suitcase out of the trunk of his car, then leads me into the house. We enter into a hallway that feeds into the kitchen, and there''s another man in a suit here. This one looks to be in his thirties but since I was off with Quinn, he''s probably in his forties.

    I guess this one is Mr. Caldwell''s husband.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "This is Franklin. He''s my head of security for the property. Much like Quinn, he''s former special magic forces. Security usually just watches the perimeter and gates so they''re usually on the other side of the wall. However, you can also call them at any time if you feel safe, if there''s an intruder, and so on. This is your house now as well and as my foster son, that also makes you their boss to a small degree. Their main job is keeping intruders out of here and making sure the residents, guests, and other employees are safe."

    "You can call me Frank if you''d like," Mr. Franklin tells me as he offers me a business card. "If you ever have a problem here that needs security, you can call us. You''ll see the general security line''s number on that card. You''ve also got my number in case there''s an issue with one of the security guards and there''s also my two assistants'' numbers on there as well. The three of us take turns overseeing security for the property, I can introduce you to them later."

    So he''s not married to Mr. Caldwell, either. What about the man coming down the hall from the direction opposite the kitchen? He looks about Mr. Caldwell''s age and he''s dressed more casually, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. That''s the sort of thing a resident would do, right?

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell gestures to the approaching man. "This is Harold, he''s my groundskeeper."

    What''s a groundskeeper?

    "My job is to take care of the outside of the property," Harold tells me. "Gardening, trimming bushes, mowing the lawn, picking up sticks from the trees, raking leaves, removing snow from the walks and drive, taking care of the pool, and so on. You''ll usually only see me once or twice a week. The property may be large but it doesn''t take that much work to maintain and Trey usually handles the daily pool care."

    Pools make me scared of drowning. I don''t even take baths because of that. Showers all the way for me. I think that''s the way to use that phrase. Maybe not. I''m so stupid. Shouldn''t have done that.

    "There''s also a housekeeper whose job is to take care of the inside of the house," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "She comes in once a week to clean and would have been here to meet you but she slipped getting out of the shower and is currently at the hospital. Let''s give you a brief tour of the house."

    Franklin and Harold leave as Mr. Caldwell shows me around. The kitchen, the dining room, the back yard and its massive pool¡­ he also gives me some small rules as we go through. Like, I''m not allowed to swim without supervision, but that''s fine because I don''t plan on swimming ever. I''ve had my head held underwater too many times to want to go within twenty feet of the pool.

    The house has a massive library and there''s even a theater room set up here. Twelve seats set up in two rows with a path between the middle so that they''re separated into groups of six. A concessions area is set up in here, complete with a thing to cook soft pretzels in, a popcorn machine, a soda fountain, a cheese machine for cooking and dispensing cheese for pretzels and nachos, storage for the food and some extra drinks¡­ whoa.

    Then Mr. Caldwell hits me with the rules for this room. As long as I''m not grounded, I can use it to watch movies or play video games. He even shows me the setup for the stuff and shows that clear directions on how to use the projector and the cooking things are listed in the appropriate spots. This way, I can see how I''m supposed to use them and reduce the odds of me messing up.

    "The only other rule for this room," Mr. Caldwell says. "At least that I can think of right now, is that you need to clean up after you finish in here. You can throw your trash in the can there, and make sure to sweep up anything that needs swept, or vacuum if needed. If you have or make friends, you can even watch movies or play games in here with them. The room is large enough that you can also have a sleepover in here if you want and permission is given."

    I don''t have any friends and I''m confused about why he''d tell me this when he''s just gonna refuse to let me have anyone over or use the room. Maybe it''s to give me hope? I hate myself for having hope since I know he''s gonna squash it like a bug.

    "Come on," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "This isn''t the only fun room."

    There''s a room with a pool table, a ping-pong table, and some other game setups. Another room is for playing video games and it''s not quite as large, mostly containing a couch, a love seat, a coffee table, and some beanbag chairs. It does have a speaker setup, though, and Mr. Caldwell tells me that I can decorate it a little as time goes on to make it feel more personalized.

    Another room that Mr. Caldwell shows me is the sauna area. There''s an indoor pool and one of the rooms off of it isn''t a locker room but a room with a sauna and a cold pool in it. Clear directions are posted for use of the sauna, and Mr. Caldwell explains that I am free to use it as long as I make sure to follow the safety precautions listed on the door and that I use it properly. He says that traditionally, saunas can be used in the nude, with just a towel, or in swim clothes, and that he''ll let me pick out some swim shorts when he takes me shopping for clothes. The cold pool is something I can jump into to close up my pores after using the sauna, but I can also take a shower to do the same.

    If I ever receive permission to use the sauna, I''ll use the shower. I don''t think I''ll ever ask to use the sauna, though, because I apparently can''t go in pants and long-sleeves. That would make me feel too exposed even if there''s no one else around.

    After the tour of the ground floor is given, Mr. Caldwell shows me the upstairs. That makes me nervous. I don''t like upstairses. They''re too high but I don''t want to tell him that I''m scared. He''s just gonna get mad at me and punish me for not going through the tour all the way. The first rooms he shows me are the two rooms closest to the stairs.

    "Security doesn''t live here," he tells me. "But they do sometimes have longer shifts so I let them use these two rooms if they want to take a nap or want to just crash immediately instead of driving home. The one condition for that is that they''re also still ''on-duty''. This means that if you need security and one of them is here but napping, you can wake them up. Come on."

    Mr. Caldwell leads me down to the right and shows me the last room on the right.

    "This is my bedroom," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "If you ever need me during the night, you can wake me up. If you''re ever scared, have a nightmare, or whatever, don''t hesitate to wake me up. We can talk or play a game or watch a movie to help you calm down if you want it. Alright?"

    How much trouble would I get into for that, though?

    "This room," Mr. Caldwell points to the room directly across from his. "Belongs to Katie, the only member of my staff who lives here. She''s our full-time personal chef and is probably down in the kitchen at the moment. If you ever want food and can''t get or make it yourself, you can always ask her."

    He has a live-in girlfriend and he calls her his personal chef? Does he not understand how dating works? Then again, I don''t really understand it either but that''s probably because I''m twelve and stupid.

    Mr. Caldwell then leads me to the opposite end of the upstairs and taps on a door.

    "This is your bedroom," he tells me as he opens the door. "I set it up based on what you told me during our meetings the last couple of months."

    The bedroom is huge and the bed itself is also huge. That''s the biggest bed I''ve ever seen and Mr. Caldwell informs me that it''s called a king-sized bed. But I''m nowhere near that big?

    "Not ''King'' as in your last name," Mr. Caldwell chuckles. "But as in the term or role. It just means that it''s the biggest normal bed size. A bed fit for a king. I figured it will give you plenty of space to stretch out if you want, or for you to cover in pillows or with stuffed animals. Now, you''ll notice that there are four rooms off of it."

    I did notice that. Why would a bedroom have that many closets?

    Mr. Caldwell shows me one of the rooms, which is a bathroom that just has a toilet and a sink, though it''s still fairly large. Some shelving and a mirror are set up in here as well, along with a miniature trash can.

    The room beside the toilet room is the bathing and showering room, with the initial area upon entering meant for changing and drying off but also for storing the clothes and towel. To the right of that is a section where the floor is a little bit lower than the entry area, and that contains a movable shower head and a short stool/seat to sit on. I can use that to clean myself off, then the bathtub to soak in. That''s a huge bathtub.

    I''m not sure I''m going to soak in it, though. They''ll probably try to drown me if I do.

    "Unlike at the boys'' home," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Don''t worry too much about shower or bath restrictions, Xander. If you feel like you need to get cleaned up you can. And there''s an on-use hot water heater hooked up here so you''ll always have hot water as long as we have power."

    I''ve never heard of that before. Either he''s trying to trick me or rich people have some neat tech. The dork would probably be fascinated to learn about this. Then again, he probably already knows all about this sort of thing. He may even have an on-use water heater at his workshop.

    For a moment, I want to try and look into Mr. Caldwell''s eyes to see if he''s lying but decide against it. There''s not point in doing something that''ll get me beating for trying to be defiant this early. Even if me looking in his eyes isn''t me trying to be defiant in anyway I can tell.

    Mr. Caldwell takes me around the bed and shows me the other two rooms. One of them is a closet and it even has a dresser inside. No clothes are in it or hanging from the hangers but this closet is massive. There''s also a mirror on the back of the door and the room has its own lighting system. Rather than a bulb hanging from the center, the closet is lit up using strips along the corners at the ceiling. A clothes hamper sits just-inside of the door and I leave my suitcase in here so that I can unpack once we''re done.

    The fourth and final room is an office. Some bookshelves sit against one wall, a large desk takes up part of the center of the room though is also sitting with one end against the wall, a comfortable-looking chair is set up behind the desk, and there''s a filing cabinet in the back-right corner against the same wall the desk is. Rather than being a metal one, the filing cabinet looks like it''s made out of wood.

    Some shelves are fixed onto the right-hand wall as well, the shelves more like cabinets, I guess. They have covers to hide their insides and one of them has a printer/copier/scanner inside.

    "The computer is yours," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "You can use it to browse the net, do school work, play games, or whatever. However, please make sure to obey the law while doing it, so no piracy or anything else like that."

    I''m allowed to use the computer for nearly anything I want? That sounds suspicious. He doesn''t tell me what the attached strings are but I''m sure I''ll learn them once I try using it. A lot of restrictions have probably been set on the computer itself.

    "Also," Mr. Caldwell says. "Check the top-right drawer of the desk."

    I go behind the desk and pull open a drawer to find a phone inside.

    "That phone is yours," Mr. Caldwell says. "I know you have a cheap prepaid one, but this one comes with unlimited minutes, unlimited text, and unlimited data. It can also handle games as well. I would recommend setting it with a password you can easily remember. Don''t tell me what the password is ¨C if I ever want to check your phone, Xander, I''ll ask you to unlock it for me. I did put in a card so that it can hold more storage as well."

    A little nervous of what he wants me to use the extra storage for, I pick up the phone. My entire body is shaking and I''m sure Mr. Caldwell can see that and is probably annoyed by it.

    "If you ever leave the house for any reason," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I want you to have the phone on you. The charger is the cord that was beside it in there, please try to keep your phone charged. This will let me reach you if I need you, and to reach me or someone else if you need to, especially if there''s an emergency. My phone number, Quinn''s, Harold''s, and the other lead security guys'' numbers are already saved in it. So is Katie''s. Go ahead and set your password."

    I do as Mr. Caldwell orders.

    "Xander?" He says just as I''m finishing. "That''s a lot of tapping, do you need help getting to the page to set it?"

    Was I supposed to? It was just in Settings ¡ú Security ¡ú Set Screen Lock. Even my stupid brain was able to figure it out.

    "N-no."

    "Okay," Mr. Caldwell says. "It was just a lot of typing so I thought maybe it was hidden."

    "I-I was setting the password."

    "With a lot of taps?"

    "It wanted sixteen characters."

    "¡­Xander, that was the maximum allowed amount, not the requirement."

    Now I feel even stupider.

    "Will you be able to remember what you set?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "If not, you might be able to change it if you haven''t saved it yet."

    "It''s ATK-"

    "Please don''t tell me your password," Mr. Caldwell says. "I''m trusting you to behave with your phone, which is why I''ll ask you to unlock if it I ever feel like there''s a reason to check it. I just want to make sure that you are able to remember it."

    "O-oh. Um. Yes."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Let''s head downstairs."

    I follow Mr. Caldwell downstairs and he introduces me to Ms. Katie in the kitchen. I''m not sure if I''m actually allowed to enter it or not so I stay at the edge of it instead of entering. Better to be safe than sorry.

    "Hello, Xander," Ms. Katie greets me. "Did you like the cookies?"

    "From last weekend," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Katie baked them. She baked all of the treats I brought for our meetings."

    Am I supposed to say they were good? What will happen if I say otherwise? I don''t want to lie, though!

    "Can''t decide on an answer?" Ms. Katie asks. "Well, let''s go with something easier. Do you want pancakes for breakfast?"

    They''re asking me what I want for breakfast. This must be some sort of trick, but I don''t know them well enough to know if I''m supposed to say yes or no. What if I say ''yes'' and they actually want bacon for breakfast instead? I hate bacon.

    "You get to decide today''s breakfast," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Since it''s your first meal here. If you want something different, you can tell Katie and if we''ve got the stuff, she''ll make it."

    What else is there for breakfast? There''s pancakes and waffles and I guess bacon and I guess eggs. Pancakes are good, though. I like pancakes.

    "P-pancakes, please?" I try not to tremble but I''m too scared.

    "Alright," Ms. Katie says. "I know you don''t like chocolate so chocolate-chip pancakes are out, but what kind of pancakes do you want?"

    "F-fluffy ones?"

    "I can work with that," Ms. Katie laughs a little. What did I do wrong? "Any additions, though? Or plain? Things like blueberries, bananas, gummy bears?"

    She''s not gonna stop asking questions unless I answer all of them, is she?

    "Yes, please."

    "You want all three of those in your pancakes?" Ms. Katie asks. "Blueberries, bananas, and gummy bears?"

    "Yes, please."

    "Do you want sprinkles as well?"

    She''s mocking me, isn''t she? Gummy bears are too sugary for pancakes so she''s making fun of me by suggesting sprinkles. The bad part is that I actually think sprinkles in a pancake might be cool since it''d make them all colorful. Trying to answer is hard because I''m so upset with myself so I just nod to her.

    "Alright," she says. "Do you want anything else with your pancakes, this time on the side? Trey said that Ms. Johnson told him you don''t like bacon or eggs, so we can do hash browns, hash brown patties, sausage patties, sausage links, or something else if you want."

    Hash brown patties? Like they do at some fast-food places? I bought one once. It was really delicious even though it burned my tongue. That impressed me so much that I bought a second.

    "Why don''t you pick two sides you want?" Mr. Caldwell suggests. "We''ll also be having some fruit as a third one."

    Three sides? This must be a trick but I can''t figure out what it is.

    "H-hash brown patties and sausage links, please."

    "Alright," Ms. Katie says. "Why don''t you wait with Mr. Caldwell and I''ll get breakfast ready?"

    Mr. Caldwell leads me over to the table of the dining room and I realize only as I sit down that Ms. Katie didn''t ask me which of the four additions to the pancakes I wanted. I guess that means I get whichever type of pancake she decides I should get. Probably plain. Or blueberry since those are healthy and full of¡­ um¡­ I don''t remember the word. But I remember hearing that they have lots of something that''s good for my body.

    Around twenty minutes after Mr. Caldwell and I sit down, Ms. Katie starts bringing our food out to us. Mr. Caldwell gets chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and bacon (I thought I could smell that awful thing), along with a dish that has some fruits in it and a glass of milk. A thing of syrup is placed on the table and it looks darker than the syrup the orphanage uses.

    Finally, my breakfast is placed in front of me. A glass of milk, a small bowl with some fruits in it, and a plate with two hash brown patties, three sausage links, and two pancakes¡­ that have blueberries, banana slices, gummy bears, and sprinkles in them. Telling Ms. Katie that I didn''t mean all four at once is probably a bad idea.

    At least it looks delicious.

 Chapter 004

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    One big upside to today is that I get to play with a dog for a little while. I kind of need that after waking up and finding out my parents ate the entire pound of bacon I bought yesterday. Bacon I bought using money I''d earned. They also ate the entire dozen eggs I bought to go with it. That was going to be several days'' worth of breakfasts for me.

    I hope cholesterol clogs their arteries. Why the heck did two adults consume a full pound of bacon and a dozen eggs for just one breakfast? Especially when it was food they hadn''t even bought!

    Unlocking the door to the house with the dog, I quickly enter and close the door behind me before I''m assaulted by a happy dog that takes me a full minute to calm down. He''s a mix of golden retriever and husky and is a very energetic boy.

    "Good to see you again, too, Rusteo," I scratch the dog behind his ears. "Let me make sure the dispensers are working properly."

    Rusteo belongs to one of Sam''s dad''s coworkers and she went camping for the weekend. The usual sitter for the dog ended up canceling yesterday (unknown reasons) and the coworker mentioned not being sure who to ask to Mr. Richardson. He suggested asking me and I''m gonna get paid a hundred dollars for this. I''ve met Rusteo a few times so the big boy already knows me, his owner already knows me, and Mr. Richardson knows I''ll get the job done.

    I check the dispensers to make sure the food and water dispensers are still working. They automatically replace any food or water that''s removed from the dishes on the ground, which means that Rusteo can eat and drink whenever he wants rather than needing to wait for someone to feed him. The dog doesn''t have an issue with excessive eating so his owner''s okay with this.

    The next thing I check is to make sure Rusteo didn''t go to the bathroom in the house, then I let him out into the back yard. He takes off running and starts doing laps around the yard before picking up a stick that fell from a tree and running around with it. I play fetch with him for a few minutes, then he goes to the bathroom.

    "Want to go for a walk?" I ask, and Rusteo lets out a happy woof. "Come on, let''s go for a walk!"

    We return inside the house and I make sure to lock up the back door, then I locate a tennis ball and the leash and hook Rusteo up before leaving. As with the back door, I make sure to lock the front door as well, then we start going down the street.

    Unlike a couple of other dogs I''ve taken for walks for their owners, Rusteo is pretty well-behaved. He doesn''t pull on his leash at all even when he gets excited about something and he doesn''t try to knock down the little girl who squeals and approaches when she sees him in his own excitement.

    "Hold on," I step between Rusteo and the girl. "Gotta ask permission before you can pet him."

    "Can I pet the doggy?"

    "I don''t have an issue with it," I say. "But you''ve gotta ask your mom, too. And you shouldn''t run off like that, what if a car was coming down the street?"

    "I''m getting ready to put a leash on her," her mother says once she catches up to us. "Cynthia, stop running off! You were supposed to be holding my hand, remember?"

    "Sorry, Mommy," the girl says. "Can I pet the doggy?"

    "You''re allergic, remember?"

    "But it''s a doggy!"

    "Remember what happened last time you pet a dog?" Her mom asks. "The rash you had for a week? Remember how uncomfortable it was."

    "Worth it," the girl tells me, and I snort.

    "You''re not his owner," the woman tells me with a slight frown. "Or his dog sitter."

    So she knows the owner, then. Or at least, she recognizes who he''s normally with. It''s understandable she''d be a little bit suspicious.

    "The sitter canceled yesterday," I explain. "Ms. Kolbeck asked me if I''d check in on him twice a day while she was gone. I''m a friend of the son of one of her coworkers and we''ve met at a few events. I usually mostly do yard work but also some babysitting and dog sitting. We''re going to the dog park, isn''t that right, Rusteo?"

    "Woof!" Rusteo agrees, tail wagging in his excitement.

    "Aren''t you a bit too young to be doing all that work?"

    "Never too young to start earning money!" I proclaim. "And it''s not uncommon for tweens and teens to do yard work for some cash. The babysitting has only happened a couple of times and recently, and I first started taking dogs for walk while their owners were away about a year ago? It was for a classmate I used to be friends with. Found out I really like dogs but my parents won''t let me get one. Anyway, I think Rusteo''s ready for the dog park, so we''re going to get going. See you around!"

    I give her a wave, then continue on down the street with Rusteo. We soon reach the dog park, which is fairly large, has some trees in one section of it, a walking trail that goes through a wooded area bordering it, and fencing that sections off the actual off-leash area itself. Only a couple of other dogs are here so I take Rusteo to one section, remove his leash, and start tossing the ball.

    We play fetch with the tennis ball for a little while, then Rusteo starts playing with another dog that''s here before her owner has to leave. Then we play fetch again until Rusteo starts looking a bit worn-out. I take the dog back to his house and he immediately rushes to the water bowl to start drinking, then switches over to the food bowl to eat before back to the water bowl.

    There''s still plenty of energy left in the dog, so I play tug-of-war with him using a rope bone that was chilling on the floor of the living room until Rusteo is finally worn out and collapsed on the ground.

    "You''re a good boy, aren''t you?" I rub his belly. "A big, fluffy, good boy! Who''s a good boy?"

    "Woof!"

    "That''s right! You are! Let''s get a picture for Ms. Kolbeck. Play dead!"

    Rusteo plays dead and I snap a picture of him, then sit down as I send the image to Ms. Kolbeck. The dog shifts up to a sitting position and I pull him in for a hug from the side so that I can take a selfie of us. Just as I do that, Ms. Kolbeck sends me a panicked text asking if he was like that when I got here. Giggling, I send her the new picture and explain that he''s just worn-out from playing and that he behaved himself at the park, didn''t go potty in the house, and the food and water dispensers are still functional.

    Once I receive her relieved response, I give Rusteo a scratch on the head, then leave. I''m still annoyed that my parents ate my breakfast so I don''t want to go home right now even though I know they''re both probably at work. That leaves either the park or hanging out with my friends, so I shoot off a message in the group chat to see if anyone''s available to hang out.

    All three of them are, so we decide to meet up at a nearby store to buy some junk food before heading over to Isaac''s for video games.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell says when he comes out onto the back deck. "Is everything alright?"

    No, everything is not alright. I''m a worthless, useless piece of shit and I still can''t understand why he would want to adopt me. He''s definitely planning on hurting me and doing even worse stuff to me, just like the last family.

    Unsure of how to respond, I decide to pretend like I didn''t hear him. Which isn''t that hard since it just means that I continue staring into the yard. This isn''t really lying since I didn''t say anything and he probably knows I''m just not answering the question. Better to get a beating for ignoring him than the beating that''d result from being honest about how I know what he''s planning.

    He might also get angry at me for being honest about myself. There''s nothing good in me at all and I''d be better off dead but I''m too horrible at doing stuff to even succeed. I know that for a fact as I''ve tried. Even jumping off a bridge didn''t work. The water was just like ''here, Xander, cool off a bit'' and I realized that I can''t even do something that simple. What a stupid, worthless, pathetic piece of shit I am.

    "You''ve been sitting out here ever since we got back," Mr. Caldwell says. "We do have toys if you want to play with them in the yard, and I did buy a few video games for you as well."

    We went clothes shopping earlier and Mr. Caldwell told me to pick out three outfits, then also had me try on a suit. Well, he phrased it as ''why don''t you try on some clothes and I''ll buy you two shirts and two pants that you like, along with a new pair of shoes'', but I know it wasn''t really a choice. I have to do as he wants me to do or he''ll beat me.

    Though lunch was nice. Mr. Caldwell asked me if there was somewhere I wanted to eat for lunch since we were out shopping. It was the first time in a long time that I sat in a restaurant and I was surprised they didn''t kick me out. Mr. Caldwell probably paid them to let me stay inside but it was still nice. Ordering was scary for me, though, so Mr. Caldwell picked my food.

    I''m still waiting to get into trouble for gagging and spitting up the first bite of the first burger. It had mustard on it and I can''t stand the taste of mustard to the point that my body rejects it upon taste. That wasn''t voluntary at all and I got really scared but Mr. Caldwell was just like ''was something wrong with the food? I''ll ask them to remake it'' and he actually did that once I admitted I don''t like mustard.

    Telling Mr. Caldwell that I think they messed up the second burger scared me enough that I didn''t. The workers made it with two patties and two slices of cheese instead of just one. It was definitely more filling and I was scared of getting beaten and kicked out for stealing again.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "Do you want to toss a ball around with me? What''s wrong?"

    "I-I-I don''t know how to toss a ball around! I''m sorry, Mr. Caldwell! I-I-I''ll try my best if you really want me to, though!"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I asked if you wanted to, you don''t have to if you don''t want to. And tossing a ball around isn''t that hard. Let me go get one."

    Mr. Caldwell returns inside for about a minute, then comes back outside with a tennis ball in one hand. That''s when I look at him and notice that he''s wearing shorts, a sleeveless shirt, and sneakers. This is the first time I''ve seen him not in a suit and it''s weird.

    I follow Mr. Caldwell to an open part of the yard.

    "You''ve never tossed a ball around with someone before, have you?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "I-I''m not sure."

    "Well," he says. "All it is is just tossing a ball to the other person, or one of the other people if there''s more than one playing. Don''t worry about your aim, it''s common to mess up the throws and the ball not reach the other person or go too far. And don''t worry about not catching it, the goal is to have fun, not to always catch it. So if you don''t catch the ball, it''s okay."

    "W-what''s the punishment for not catching it?"

    "There''s no punishment for failure here," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "This is just for fun, Xander. That said, for every three tosses in a row that you catch, you can have an extra scoop of ice cream with dessert after dinner."

    He''s offering me ice cream for dessert? I bet it''s really that he''s got a set amount of scoops I can have, like three, and if I fail to catch the ball three times in a row out of so many tosses, then he''ll remove one scoop. This is just him trying to make me think it''s a reward rather than an absence of a punishment. That''s how you earn someone''s trust while also punishing them.

    Mr. Caldwell tosses me the ball and I fail to catch it. The ball doesn''t even make it to me because of how bad I am at catching, apparently.

    "My fault," Mr. Caldwell says. "I tossed it a little too lightly. Grab it and toss it back."

    I try to toss it to Mr. Caldwell but my aim is way off and it doesn''t even travel that far. Despite that, Mr. Caldwell does his best to catch it, even running forward and reaching down in his attempt. He doesn''t manage to catch it and for a moment I get scared that he''s going to get angry with me, but he just picks up the ball and tosses it back to me after walking back a few steps.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    We toss the ball for a little while but I really really suck at this game. Mr. Caldwell tries to make me feel good by saying things like ''my fault'' or ''good catch'' or ''good throw'' but I know he''s just trying to earn my trust. It''s not going to work.

    "That''s three in a row!" Mr. Caldwell says. "Good job, Xander. You''ll get to have four scoops of ice cream for dessert if you want. You don''t look like you''re having very much fun, though. Do you want to stop?"

    This is a trick question. He wants to keep playing this weird game but is making it seem like he''s okay with stopping if I want to. Then, when I admit I do out of honesty, he beats me for not continuing. That''s going to be a better punishment than what comes if I lie and say ''no'', though.

    "Y-yes."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Here, toss the ball back to me and we can go inside. I''m sure you want something to drink, too. Didn''t think about bringing something out and it''s a bit warm out."

    No, I didn''t think about something to drink. He''s scolding me for not being considerate of him. Stupid fucking piece of shit! I hate myself!

    Hoping the punishment is light, I hand the ball to Mr. Caldwell and follow him into the house. As is the rule, I make sure to take off my shoes when entering so I don''t track dirt and stuff across their clean floors. Mr. Caldwell didn''t take off his shoes but he probably doesn''t get dirt on them.

    Ms. Katie is in the kitchen examining a piece of paper when we arrive. The house smells like cupcakes. Strawberry-flavored, I think.

    "We have a few different things you can drink, Xander," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Water, lemonade, soda, orange juice, apple juice, milk.

    "Water, please."

    "Just water?" Mr. Caldwell seems annoyed. Why else would he ask that. "That''s a surprise. Was expecting you to say soda."

    "I-I don''t like fizzy things."

    It was only a matter of time before he found out. The other boys at the home made fun of me for not liking soda but I can''t help it. I really tried to like soda so that one of the weird things about me was gone but it just didn''t work. No matter how hard I tried, the feeling of fizzy in my mouth was just too annoying.

    "Ah," he says. "So that''s why you got lemonade during lunch?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "Do you want lemonade now?"

    "M-may I?"

    "Of course," Mr. Caldwell says. "Would you prefer that over water?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Let''s get you some lemonade. Do you want strawberry lemonade or plain?"

    "You can put strawberries in lemonade?"

    My face heats up the moment I realize I said that out loud. I''ve heard of pink lemonade but that doesn''t have a strawberry flavor to it. He was asking about putting strawberries in the lemonade, too. As soon as I think about it, I realize that it''s obvious we could put strawberries in lemonade since Mr. Caldwell suggested it. That makes me feel even more stupid.

    "Sure can," Ms. Katie says. "Slice them up a little first and let them soak for a minute and they''ll even add some flavor. Some places will soak them in sugar for a couple of minutes, then add them."

    "O-oh," I say. "Um. P-plain, please."

    Ms. Katie fixes up a lemonade for me while Mr. Caldwell starts to fix himself some tea. As scared as I am, my trembling fingers lose their grip on the glass and it falls and hits the ground. The glass shatters and terror fills me at both the loud noise and at the realization that I broke his dish. He''s not gonna believe me that it was an accident and is going to beat me for abusing his generosity and throwing the glass!

    "I''msorryI''msorryI''msorryI''m-EEP!"

    A pair of hands suddenly grab me and I know this is it, this is where I get beaten. Only¡­ I just find myself lifted up and moved to the counter¡­ which I''m set onto. Well, my butt is, so I''m sitting on it now. Sitting on counters is absolutely forbidden but Mr. Caldwell just put me on one. Now I''m going to get into extra trouble for breaking a rule.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "You''re not in trouble. Accidents happen and that was partially my fault. I saw you were shaking a bit and didn''t think you might drop the cup so didn''t let Katie know to use a plastic one instead. I''m sorry for touching you without permission, but I wanted to move you out of the glass and lemonade so that you don''t accidentally step on the glass ¨C or curl up on the ground on the glass. Grabbing and moving you was faster than trying to ask since you were starting to drop down to the ground and I wouldn''t have had time to ask. Ms. Katie is going to clean up the glass and lemonade. Why don''t you take off your socks and use this to dry your feet? Some of the lemonade soaked into them and it''s better not to track that through the house."

    Mr. Caldwell''s handed me a roll of paper towels as he spoke, so I''m assuming that''s what he wants me to dry my feet with. The whole roll, though? That would be a massive waste of paper towels and I don''t think it would take that much, anyway. He takes my socks away once I pull them off, probably to put them in the laundry. I do my best to not use more paper towels than what''s needed, and Ms. Katie works on cleaning the floor. She even mops it a little bit, then dries it using some paper towels.

    "Here you go," she hands me a new cup of lemonade, this one a plastic cup. "Sorry about that, Xander. Let me know if the lemonade is too strong and I''ll add a little bit of sugar to sweeten it some."

    This is really confusing. Aren''t punishments supposed to be immediate? Why is Mr. Caldwell just trying to make sure I''m okay instead of punishing me for breaking the glass?

    I stare at the cup of lemonade for a few minutes, not really sure if I should drink it anymore. I already dropped one cup of it and I''m scared of dropping another. Am I even worthy of drinking lemonade? Water is all I''m worthy of. If even that.

    "There''s still a little time until dinner," Ms. Katie tells me. "Have a cupcake, Xander. It''s strawberry with vanilla buttercream frosting and some sprinkles on top. And before you wonder if you''re allowed to have them, they weren''t made for dessert. Trey asked me to bake some for a friend of his who''s in the hospital, but also asked me to set some aside for you in case you wanted them. I asked him about dessert and he told me ''just if he wants them, we''ll do ice cream for dessert''."

    This is very suspicious but my stomach is very hungry after trying to toss a ball around with Mr. Caldwell. Resisting the urge to accept is too hard and I fail it, giving Ms. Katie a nod. She grabs one of the cupcakes from where they were cooling and offers it to me and I make sure to carefully set down the cup before accepting the treat.

    The cupcake turns out to be really delicious. It''s not as delicious as the red-white-and-blue cheesecake I order at the Wolf''s Dragon, but it''s still delicious.

    I do my best not to let the crumbles fall while I eat so that I don''t get into trouble but Ms. Katie doesn''t say anything even as some of them do fall. She offers me a napkin so I can wipe my mouth, and I find myself needing a drink as well so I pick up the lemonade, making extra sure I don''t drop it this time.

    "Have you calmed down a little now?" Ms. Katie asks after I finish taking a drink and I nod. "That''s good. In the six years I''ve worked here, I can assure you that I''ve dropped quite a few dishes. In fact, I dropped an entire casserole back in January. The dish shattered all over the floor. Do you want to know what Trey did?"

    How he treats his girlfriend will be a lot different than how he treats a pathetic waste of space like me. I still nod anyway because I''m curious for some reason.

    "He heard it shatter from his office and came running out to see if I was okay," Ms. Katie tells me. "Then he said that he can just order something since it would take too long to remake it."

    "But you''re his girlfriend, he''s supposed to worry about you," I accidentally mumble, then immediately get scared because I talked without permission again.

    "I''m not his girlfriend," Ms. Katie chuckles. "His ex-wife hired me six years ago to cook for them as Trey started getting busier with work around that time and wasn''t home to cook as often and she didn''t really want to make anything. I wasn''t actually live-in until he started considering adopting you. Then, he asked if I''d be willing to move in and become a more full-time chef just in case you needed food at random times."

    They love each other and she lives here but they aren''t dating? This is confusing. I guess I''m too stupid to understand how that works.

    "Do you want to know something?" Ms. Katie asks me after a few moments of silence. I''m not sure if I should say yes or no so I nod in the hopes that''s the safe response. "Trey is extremely nervous about you."

    Why would he be? I''m not scary at all. I''m weak and pathetic and stupid and a worthless waste of space.

    "When he started looking to adopt," Ms. Katie tells me gently touches my chin and lifts it up so that I''m looking in her eyes. I guess that means it''s okay. "It was because he wanted a child and decided he''d rather adopt one who could use a home than to sire one. He wasn''t expecting to come across a boy with your past and isn''t really sure of how to handle a child who might get scared of anything that happens. What he''s nervous of is scaring you. He wants to provide a place for you to feel safe and he knows it''s going to take time to learn everything that he might do that could scare you so that he can avoid it. He did ask the staff at the home as much as possible but there are nuances that aren''t always caught or thought about. You can be sure that the reason he hasn''t come back yet from putting your soaked socks in the wash is because he''s worried that grabbing you to keep you from falling in the glass scared you enough you don''t want to be here anymore."

    She''s¡­ telling the truth. I know it because I''m looking in her eyes and I''m not getting the feeling that she''s lying. That means it''s true. Unless that part of me broke. It never has before but it might have now.

    "Also," she pulls her hand away from my chin. "We know about that little gift of yours," she lightly taps me on the nose. "Trey said you don''t like looking people in the eyes, but if you ever want to know if he or I are lying, you can look in our eyes. The only other people here who were told about your gift are Quinn and the security leads, but you can look any of the staff in the eyes if you want to be certain. Those who don''t know about your gift will just think you''re gaining confidence. For those of us who know, we won''t think you''re accusing us of lying, I promise. You''re in a new situation and it''s normal to have doubts. So if you''re ever wanting to know if we''re lying or being truthful, just look us in the eyes, okay?"

    This is scary but she''s also being honest. Completely. Ms. Johnson must have told Mr. Caldwell that I can tell if people are lying when I look them in the eye. I''m scared of the reason why she told him that, and also that they''re saying it''s okay for me to look people in the eye. That''s a big No.

    "Alright, Xander?" Ms. Katie asks, and I nod. "Now. Do you want a second cupcake? Mr. Caldwell told me to let you have up to two before dinner."

    That is¡­ a truth. I nod, and Ms. Katie grabs a second cupcake.

    "And don''t worry so much about the crumbs," she tells me. "They''ll clean up easily enough."

    I still eat this one carefully to avoid dropping crumbles as much as possible, drinking the last of the lemonade I was given to help wash it down.

    "Do you want some more lemonade?" Ms. Katie asks, and I nod. "Let me get the cup real quick and I''ll fill it up. Was it too tart for you?"

    I shake my head. It was too weak for me, but I don''t want to say that. That would just mean asking for more powder to be put in and I don''t want to get into trouble for using too much of the lemon juice powder. Ms.

    Ms. Katie hands me the cup once she''s refilled it and I take a long drink.

    "Can you try to remember something for me in the future?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "I-I can try," I tell her. "B-but I have a b-bad m-memory."

    "That''s fine," she tells me. "When you''ll need to remember it is when you''re freaking out, so it will take time for you to start remembering it during that since your mind goes straight to defense. If you ever drop something and it shatters and is glass or ceramic or the like, don''t drop down and don''t walk away. Yell for someone, call someone, text someone, or something to get someone else to come over so that we can get the pieces cleaned up, okay?"

    "I''ll try to remember that."

    "Good," Ms. Katie says. "Now. What do you want for dinner? Trey told me it was your choice tonight."

    "W-what are the choices?"

    "You tell me what you want and I''ll tell you if I can make it or order it," she says. "If I can''t, then we move on to the next thing on your list. Don''t worry about it being expensive or complicated or strange, either. If you want a steak, I''ll grill up some steaks."

    She wants to grill?

    "Burgers?"

    "We can do burgers," she tells me. "What do you like on yours?"

    "Um¡­ pickles, onions, cheese, ketchup and lettuce."

    "Do you the pickles in circles or cut lengthwise?"

    "Long ways?"

    "Do you want the onions grilled or not?"

    "They can be grilled?"

    "We''ll do not for this one," she says. "What kind of cheese do you want on the burger?"

    "There are different kinds?"

    "Sure are," she says. "Hold on just one sec."

    Ms. Katie grabs a plate, then does something in the fridge. It takes more than one second, but when she comes back over, she hands me the plate, which now has several small pieces of cheese on it. Some of the pieces are yellow while others are white. They''re all lined up in a row.

    "Try these," she tells me. "Then let me know which one you''d like on your burger."

    I didn''t know there were so many types of cheese. I knew there was shredded cheese and sliced cheese like they had back at the boys'' home. Maybe I''ll look in the cheese aisle next time I''m in a store on my own? At least, if they have a cheese aisle there. They probably do.

    After trying each of the cheeses, I let Ms. Katie know which one I liked the most.

    "That''s the Swiss cheese," she tells me. "If you go to a restaurant and order a burger and it''s not a fast food joint, they might ask you which type of cheese you want on your burger. Most will offer Swiss cheese as one of the choices, alright?"

    Some proper restaurants let people choose the type of cheese they want? I''m glad I learned that now and not after Mr. Caldwell decides to take me to one someday. The chances of me panicking over the choice and getting into trouble for that would be high.

    "Okay."

    "Is there anything you want as a side for the burgers?" Ms. Katie asks.

    I''m being allowed to pick the sides? She didn''t say that so even if I was still looking in her eyes, I wouldn''t know for sure. Asking if I''m actually allowed to pick is too scary, too. Questioning people isn''t allowed.

    "French fries?"

    "You don''t know what other sorts of sides there are, do you?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "I''m sorry!"

    "It''s okay," she says. "You''ll learn them over time. Some things we can do are salads, potato wedges, baked potatoes, macaroni and cheese, onion rings, corn on the cob, baked beans, and your face said ''no'' to that one so we''ll take that off the sides list. Anything else sound good to you?"

    "I''ve never had onion rings before."

    "Then we''ll do those," she says. "I''ll also fry up some french fries just in case you don''t like the onion rings. Would you like to try grilled tomatoes?"

    I don''t like tomatoes but I''m not sure if I''m allowed to say that. She''s probably asking because Mr. Caldwell likes grilled tomatoes and I should eat the same thing as him. Mr. Caldwell has also returned and is standing at the entrance of the hall leading down past the garage.

    "If you''ve never had grilled tomatoes before," Ms. Katie tells me. "They do taste a little bit different from raw tomatoes, and I''ll be adding some seasoning to them as well. If you try them and don''t like them, then you won''t have to eat them."

    "O-okay."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says as he enters the kitchen. "Could you come with me?"

    I nod, then he asks if I want some help getting down from the counter. I really don''t want help but I''m scared I''ll fall and crack my head again if I try so I accept the help. Mr. Caldwell helps me off of the counter, then I follow him out onto the deck. He has me sit down at one of the tables on the deck, then he returns inside and returns after a minute with a tray that has the lemonade I was drinking on it, the tea he had been fixing himself, and a pitcher of each.

    After setting that on the table, Mr. Caldwell pulls out a pack of playing cards and sets a twenty-dollar-bill down on the table, setting a quarter on top of it.

    "Ms. Johnson said you like playing Go Fish," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I like to think that I''m pretty good at it. Let''s make a deal. We''ll play until Katie serves us dinner. If I win more times than you do, then you can only get two toppings on your ice cream tonight. If you win more times than I do, then you can have that twenty as a bonus to your allowance."

    Getting to have two toppings for an ice cream is amazing. Even if I lose this, I think I''ll be happy. I''m nervous about what he''ll do if I win but I don''t like not trying my best. That''s why I don''t like doing competitive things ¨C because people get upset with me for winning.

 Chapter 005

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander, wake up!" My body gets shaken. "Xander! Wake up!"

    I wake with a start, finding that Mr. Caldwell is shaking me.

    "You awake?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "It was awful!" I cry out. "The muffins were trying to eat me!"

    "The¡­ muffins?"

    "They grabbed me and the shoved a giant rod up my ass and it came out of my mouth and they hung me over a fire and they were dancing around and singing about how they were gonna eat me once I was cooked but they were also laughing at me for being so skinny ''cause I have almost no meat so I wasn''t gonna fill them up very much and then they started nomming on me and it was awful! And to make it worse, they were chocolate muffins! And they had chocolate chips in them, too! I don''t wanna be cooked and eaten by chocolate muffins with chocolate chips in them! I just wanna be a booooy!"

    "It''s alright," Mr. Caldwell climbs up onto the bed and sits sort of beside me. "You''re okay, Xander. The muffins aren''t going to eat you, I promise."

    "But they already had me skewered and on a fire, and they already started nomming me, too!" I cry.

    "It was just a dream, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "Just a dream. You''re okay. No muffins are going to eat you for real."

    "But they already were!"

    "Here," Mr. Caldwell presses a tissue into my hand. "Blow your nose, Xander. You''re leaking snot."

    I accept the tissue and blow my nose, but it takes me a few more tissues than that to take care of the snot. Mr. Caldwell also has me use some for my tears but it''s hard for me to stop crying. That just frustrates me more and makes me feel awful.

    "Here," Mr. Caldwell hands me a cup, and that''s when I realize that Ms. Katie is in here. I think she just came in here. "Take a small sip of the water."

    I do as Mr. Caldwell tells me. There''s a security guard in here as well. That''s bad news.

    "Alright," he says. "Now take a deep breath¡­ not so fast, Xander."

    "Sorry!"

    "It''s okay," he says. "Try again. Take a deep breath, but slowly¡­ okay, good. Now, slowly let it out¡­ alright, good, do that twice more¡­ alright, now take another sip of the water."

    He has me repeat this three times.

    "There we go," he says. "Do you feel calmer?"

    "I-I''m sorry for waking you," I say. "I-I thought the nightmares weren''t that bad anymore."

    "It''s okay, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I''d rather get woken up by your screams so that I can wake you up so that your nightmare ends than you be quiet but still suffer just as bad. You''re not in trouble for waking me up. Remember what I said yesterday?"

    He told me a lot of things and I''m pretty sure I''ve forgotten most of them. Stupid fucking worthless brain. Why did Mr. Caldwell even let me stay the night instead of sending me back after the first incident?

    "Um¡­ maybe?" I respond after failing to figure out what he wants me to remember.

    "I said that if you ever woke up during the night and wanted to talk, play a game, or something to help you calm back down from a bad dream," he says. "Just wake me up. Do you want to tell me more about the dream?"

    "I-I-I can''t remember it! I''m sorry, Mr. Caldwell! It was really scary and I''m really scared but I can''t remember the dream!"

    Me and my stupid memory. It''s always a struggle for me to remember my dreams even though they scare me so much.

    "That''s okay," Mr. Caldwell says. "It''s normal to forget dreams after you stop thinking about them. And¡­ I think remembering that one is better off done when you''re much more calm."

    While I don''t remember what I told Mr. Caldwell was in the dream, I guess it was really bad. Even now, I still feel fear over what happened in it. It''s probably a good thing I have such a bad memory and can''t even remember what I said about the dream as I don''t think I''d get any sleep if I remembered the nightmares.

    "Do you want to play Go Fish for a little bit?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Until you think you can fall back asleep?"

    Mr. Caldwell probably wants to go back to bed instead of staying up with a pathetic, worthless loser like me but I don''t want to lie when he''s already mad at me for waking him up. Me winning every game before dinner probably upset him, too, so that happening again would probably make him even madder. I know it''s not good to be happy when I do better than other people and they lose to me but it makes me feel good even with that fear.

    Scared of his response, I give him a nod. Better get beaten for selfish honesty than for being a worthless liar.

    "Alright," he says. "Do you want Katie to join us?"

    He''ll probably be less mad if I let his not-girlfriend girlfriend play with us, but I would have said yes anyway. Ms. Katie was really nice to me earlier even though I was bad and broke a glass.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says after I nod. "Katie, there''s a deck in the nightstand over there."

    The security guy closes the door as he leaves and Ms. Katie opens up the drawer on the other side of the nightstand from where everyone had been standing. She pulls out a deck of cards, then joins us on the bed. Mr. Caldwell and I move so that the three of us are sitting in a sort of triangle, then we start playing Go Fish.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Now¡­ wave!"

    Rusteo lifts up his right paw and shakes it a little.

    "Good boy!" I scratch him on the head. "You''re a good boy, aren''t you? Here, have a treat!"

    I toss a treat and Rusteo jumps to catch it. After he eats it, I give him a belly rub. I''ve been trying to see what kind of tricks he knows and only did the wave on a whim. Most dogs don''t know how to wave and I was bored.

    "That sounds like Mr. Thompson," I say. "Time for me to get going, Rusteo! See you this evening!"

    "Woof!"

    I leave and make sure to lock the door, then head over to Mr. Thompson''s car. He pulled up into the driveway so I don''t have very far to walk. When I climb into the back seat, Connor''s in there and he immediately jabs me in the ribs.

    "Hey!" I yelp, then jab him back.

    "Seat belt first!" Mr. Thompson laughs.

    "Aye aye, captain!" I buckle up. "Now it''s time to get revenge!"

    "Before you do that," Mr. Thompson starts pulling out of the driveway. "We''re going to head to the zoo next weekend. Want to come with us?"

    "Sure!" I answer. "Saturday or Sunday?"

    "Saturday," Connor tells me. "We''re going to do a sleepover at Sam''s Friday night and then head to the zoo Saturday morning and try to get there when they open."

    "Count me in!" I say. "Think Mr. Richardson will have an issue if we replicate the hot sauce experiment?"

    "You mean the hot sauce incident?" Mr. Thompson asks and Connor and I grin at him. "Please don''t. I don''t want another phone call at two in the morning letting me know that my son''s in the hospital with hot sauce in his eye."

    "There was also pickle juice," Connor says.

    "Not helping," Mr. Thompson says and we giggle. "And you boys never did explain how that happened. All four of you, too!"

    Fortunately, saline rinses were all the doctors needed to do for most of us, though Isaac did have an infection for a few days.

    "Don''t worry, Dad," Connor says. "We think we know what we did wrong last time so we can avoid the explosion next time."

    "First, there shouldn''t be a next time," Mr. Thompson says. "Second, anything like that should be done in the back yard. It took almost a month to get the smell of your experiment out of that room."

    "You know," I say to Connor. "If we up the amounts, we could probably make it even more difficult to get the smell out."

    Connor snickers as his dad groans. We switch to talking about the latest episode of an anime for the rest of the drive, though that''s mostly between Connor and me since Mr. Thompson doesn''t watch any. When we reach the home improvement store, Mr. Thompson parks next to Mr. Michaels''s truck and the three of us get out. Isaac, Sam, and their dads are already here waiting for us and the seven of us head into the store to get started.

    This isn''t a low-quality mass-produced store like a normal person would go to. Mr. Thompson has been saving up money for a little bit so that he could get the good stuff from a more premium shop. The dads give us boys a list containing the stuff we need to grab and they head off to the lumber section to get started on the bigger stuff.

    "What''s the first one?" Isaac asks.

    "There''s a bunch," Connor says.

    "Let''s do the stain first," I say. "Since they have to mix it and that takes awhile."

    We grab a shopping cart and make our way over to the paint section, which is close to the front of the store and almost directly across from the service desk.

    "How can I help you boys?" The woman behind the paint desk asks.

    "We need two gallons of deck stain," Connor says. "Dad put the specific one and tint we need down. Do we just tell you which one it is or do we have to get the buckets? We''ll need help finding them."

    "I''ve got a flatbed cart behind the counter there," she points at the back counter of the paint desk. "I can get the one you want. Can I see the notes?"

    Connor hands her the paper and she examines it, then nods.

    "We have that one in stock," she tells us. "Let me go get it real quick and we could double-check."

    She leaves the desk and grabs the cart, then walks down one of the aisles. After a minute, she returns with two five-gallon containers of deck stain and a paint chip card, then asks us to check the buckets.

    "Yup!" Connor says. "That''s what this one says!"

    "Is this the right tint?" She holds out a chip and Connor examines it and nods. "Awesome. It''ll take a bit to get this made as they take some time to mix for the bigger ones. If you boys want to get the rest of your stuff while you wait you can or you can sit on the stools there to wait."

    "We''ll get the other things," Connor tells her. "You''ll hold it if we''re not back quickly, right?"

    "We can hold it until close," she tells him.

    "Oh, good!" He says. "We won''t be gone that long!"

    The worker smiles at us, then we set off to get other things on the list. Our first destination is the garden section to grab some bags of soil, sand, gravel, and grass seed, and we decide to switch the basket cart for a flatbed one since the bags are easier to load onto those since they''re lower. The store has a section just for the basket carts out here as well so we don''t even need to go back inside to put ours away. It takes us awhile to get everything on the list but Mr. Thompson was pretty specific on the stuff which made it easier for us. Once we finish grabbing the items we need, we return to the paint counter to collect the deck stain, then meet the dads to check out.

    Mr. Thompson rented a second truck from the store as well as one of their trailers to help haul everything, since he''s buying a lot of wood as well. The seven of us make sure everything is loaded up and secured, then Mr. Richardson drives the rented truck while Mr. Thompson and Mr. Michaels drive their own vehicles.

    The drive back to Mr. Thompson''s feels short, then we start unloading everything and get to work on the project. He''s building a new deck and we tore out the old deck last weekend and prepared the land so that it''s ready for the construction today.

    Us boys aren''t allowed to do too much of the work since some of it involves more dangerous things like saws, but they do let us help where we can and we all end up soaked in sweat within an hour. The dads keep their shirts on but us boys take them off and start smacking each other with them in a whip-like fashion while we wait for our next task.

    "Boys," Mr. Thompson says while the four of us are doing handstands to see who can do it the longest while waiting for our next task. "I''m getting ready to order lunch. What do you want?"

    "If you''ve got people helping you do construction work," I say. "You gotta order pizza and beer! That''s the standard! You''d think an experienced dad like you would know that!"

    "You''re not getting beer," Mr. Thompson says.

    "We''re old enough as long as we have parental supervision," I tell him.

    "And your parents aren''t here, Sig," he snorts.

    "What are you talking about?" I ask. "I''ve got three dads right her-whoa-oof!"

    I lifted my hand up to gesture at the dads and ended up falling as I forgot I was doing a handstand. The other boys start laughing and end up falling as well, and we end up in a laughing fit for a minute.

    "Yeah, you boys don''t need alcohol," Mr. Thompson snorts. "We figured you''d all want pizza, is that correct?"

    There''s a chorus of agreements from us.

    "Okay," he says. "The usual order or something different? And yes, there''s ice cream for dessert."

    We agree to our usual order, then he tells us the next thing they need us to help with so we get back to work.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks after knocking on the door to the bedroom I''m staying in. "Are you in there?"

    Oh, no. I''m in so much trouble. He realized it too and now he''s here to punish me. Pretending I''m not in here is only going to make him more mad at me. That wasn''t a question for him to see if I was, it was because he already knew I was and he''s just giving me a chance to be honest and admit I''m here in.

    "Yes."

    Mr. Caldwell opens the door and looks in the room, then down at me.

    "Why are you lying on the floor?"

    I''m currently spread out on the floor, my arms stretched out to the sides and my legs creating a bit of a V from their own split as well. He went with the carpet that I liked a lot during our last meet at the group home and it really does feel nice. Even if I can''t feel it too much since only my hands and neck-up are bare, I like it.

    "The room inspection hasn''t happened yet."

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "What room inspection?"

    "To make sure it''s clean and my bed is made."

    "Xander¡­ this isn''t the boys'' home," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Your room isn''t going to get a daily inspection. Whether it''s clean or not is to up to you. The main thing is that you clean up any crumbs or food that drops, and drinks that spill, and don''t leave food and drinks other than water sitting out in here. That''s just to reduce the risk of mice, rats, and bugs. If you want to leave it a mess or your bed unmade, that''s your choice."

    "S-so the blanket doesn''t have to be neat?"

    "No," Mr. Caldwell says. "It doesn''t¡­ wait, is this where you''ve been all day after breakfast, apart from lunch?"

    "Yes."

    "You were waiting for your room inspection?"

    "Yes."

    "Xander," he says. "It''s a bed. I couldn''t care less if you make it after getting up. Are you comfortable down there? You looked pretty relaxed when I came in."

    He''s going to change the carpet, isn''t he?

    "Y-yes."

    "Good," he says. "You did like the sample but I wasn''t sure if you''d like it as a full carpet. I was mainly checking on you because it''s past the time you normally leave to visit the pet store based on what Ms. Johnson told me. Were you not planning on going today? The weather''s nice."

    "I''m not allowed to go," I try not to sniffle.

    "Who said that?"

    "I didn''t do my chores," I start crying. "I''m sorry I''m such a bad boy, Mr. Caldwell! I can''t even remember what my chores are even though you only told me them yesterday! I understand you don''t want me anymore! Nobody wants a stupid boy like me! Especially one who wakes up screaming like the pathetic shit that I am! And then I fell asleep during the game like the useless brat I am! And I kept winning when were playing games even though I''m not supposed to be better than other people! I''m so sorry for being a bad boy, Mr. Caldwell! I tried really hard not to be!"

    I hate how stupid and forgetful I am. This is awful and I know Mr. Caldwell was only asking so that I''d admit my failure. Today is only my second day in his home and I''ve already fucked up in a major way and I just want to disappear for good. I just wish it would work.

    "Xander, get up," Mr. Caldwell tells me as he walks past me.

    As I obey his order, Mr. Caldwell grabs the box of tissues off of the nightstand on this side of the bed. Then he holds it out to me.

    "Blow your nose," he tells me. "Then try to dry your tears, okay? But with a clean tissue, not the one you blew your nose with."

    I follow Mr. Caldwell''s instructions and make sure to throw the tissues away in the small trash can under the nightstand I''m closest to.

    "Regarding your chores," Mr. Caldwell says and I flinch. "I never gave you any."

    "W-what?"

    "Chores," he says. "I never assigned you any chores. I thought it best to let you get used to living here a little before we started adding some responsibilities on to you, especially since it''s summer break and you should be having more fun than work. That''s why you couldn''t remember being told any ¨C you hadn''t been."

    Now I feel even stupider.

    "Something Ms. Johnson told me," Mr. Caldwell says. "Was that you would sit in silence during attempted therapy sessions. You said some stuff there that concerned me, Xander, and I was wondering if you''d be willing to give therapy a try?"

    What did I say that concerned him? All I did was be honest and therapy isn''t for honest boys. Maybe it''s because I was a bad boy and he wants me to get made good?

    "No."

    Crapcrapcrapcracpcrapcrapcrap! I said a banned word! I''m not allowed to tell people no! Fucking stupid worthless pathetic piece of useless shit! Why am I so awful?

    "Can I ask why?" Mr. Caldwell''s tone is scarily calm.

    "Yes," I answer, then realize that this might be like the situation last weekend. The sort where they''re actually asking the question instead of asking if they can ask it. "Um. All they do is tell me what''s wrong with me. I already have a list and don''t like being told it more."

    None of the stores I go to will laminate it for me, probably because I''m not even supposed to be in them in the first place. Only boys with some value are allowed to go in, not one without any, like me.

    "Then you must not have had a very good therapist," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "A therapist is supposed to help you understand your feelings, cope with bad situations, and not at all only tell you bad things about yourself. If you don''t want to see a new one, though, I''ll understand."

    "I don''t."

    Admitting that worries me because it sounds like he wants me to see one but all they do is tell me to stop doing stuff and tell me all the bad things about me.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Do you still want to go to the pet store to look at the dogs?"

    "Y-yes."

    "Want me to take you there?" He asks. "It''s a bit of a walk but you can walk if you want or Quinn can drive you. Just remember that I need to know the places you''re going whichever one it is."

    Mr. Caldwell probably wants to check out the places I like to visit so he can ''judge'' whether or not I''m allowed to keep going there.

    "Y-you can take me."

    "Alright," he says. "Get your shoes and we''ll go."

    I locate my shoes and put them on, then join Mr. Caldwell in the garage. He drives the SUV again and I sit in the back seat, behind him, just like I did when he picked me up from the boys'' home yesterday and again for the shopping trip.

    Other than me telling Mr. Caldwell the name of the pet store, the drive is pretty quiet. I like that because it means I don''t need to worry about saying the wrong thing but I also don''t like it because his silence scares me.

    "Do you want me to stay out here while you play with the dogs?" Mr. Caldwell asks once he parks.

    Very much so but he probably wants to come in with me so that he can supervise and make sure I behave.

    "I-i-if that''s o-o-okay."

    "It is," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "This is a magitech car, it runs on mana crystals, so don''t worry about me wasting fuel to stay cool and take as long as you want."

    I nod, then leave the car and head into the pet store. It gets hard to breathe and my head gets very light as I enter but I try to make it to the dogs without passing out. Mr. Caldwell is probably really upset with me for not wanting him to come in.

    By the time I''ve pet half of the dogs that are available for petting, I''ve started to calm down some. Turtle is still here and is the last one for me to pet today and I''m a lot more calm while doing so than I was when I arrived.

    "Be a good boy for the shelter, okay?" I ask Turtle, who gives me a quiet woof in response. "Okay. Bye, Turtle."

    Turtle gives me another quiet woof, then he''s returned to his kennel and I start leaving again. Worry about the coming punishment fills me and opening the door so I can get into Mr. Caldwell''s SUV is difficult due to how much I''m trembling.

    "Did you have fun?" Mr. Caldwell asks as he puts his phone away.

    "I-I pet all of the available dogs."

    "Did you want one?"

    "No."

    "You pet them most weekends but don''t want one?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Mind if I ask why?"

    This is like that other situation, right? But what is the question? I don''t know if he''s asking me why I don''t want a dog or why I pet them. Maybe I can try asking, I just hope I don''t get beaten for not knowing the question. This one is a really hard one for me.

    "Um¡­ what''s the question?"

    "Let''s start with why you like to pet the dogs," Mr. Caldwell answers.

    "Oh, um¡­ they''re all just wanting a happy home and someone to love them," like me. "And so I like giving them friendly attention. That usually makes them happy and feel good and they like it."

    "I see," Mr. Caldwell says. "How come you don''t want a dog?"

    "I don''t like dog fur on everything."

    "You don''t end up covered in it after petting the dogs here?"

    "I''m not good enough for it to stick to," I say. "But I wouldn''t want it on the bed or the carpets or stuff ''cause then it''d be a pain to get cleaned out."

    And I don''t want to get into trouble for not having things clean.

    Mr. Caldwell turns around and looks at me, frowning slightly as he does. Oh, no. What did I say wrong? He''s upset with me.

    "You¡­ don''t have dog fur stuck to you," he sounds confused.

    "I''m not good enough for it to stick too," I repeat. "Even dog fur doesn''t like me."

    "That''s not how-" he starts, then stops and lets out a breath. "Ms. Johnson said last week that you normally go to a restaurant after. Want me to drive you there or do you want to walk and I can pick you up later?"

    He probably wants to judge the food to see if I''m worthy of it or not.

    "Y-you can drive me. It''s the Wolf''s Dragon."

    "The Wolf''s-huh," he says, then starts driving. "That''s a pretty hidden place. Mind if I ask how you found it?"

    So he already knows about it, then.

    "I saw the parking lot and got curious," I answer. "And wasn''t sure what the sign meant. So I followed the trail thinking maybe it was just a walking trail and found a restaurant at the end."

    Which explains why the parking lot was full that day. Well, also because it was a holiday. I was very stupid and anxious and I also felt like I had to order something since I was there and that was how I discovered the deliciousness of cheesecake.

    The drive to the restaurant is a lot faster than the walk from the pet store is, and Mr. Caldwell gets out of the car with me instead of asking me this time. He definitely wanted to go into the pet store with me and isn''t giving me a choice this time because I didn''t say he could come in. As if it was really my choice. He could have just ignored me and gone inside anyway.

    When we enter the restaurant, Emily is behind the counter today instead of Cal, though I''m sure he''s here somewhere since he usually works Saturdays. Emily has brown hair and blue eyes, her hair put up in in a ponytail, and she''s dressed in an outfit similar to Cal''s last week. Her apron has "EMILY" embroidered on it in bright pink, green, and blue. She''s in her early twenties, so a little bit older than Cal is, and she''s the manager for the front.

    I only know that last bit because a really mean customer demanded a manager while I was waiting for my order a few months ago and it was her the waitress fetched.

    Emily was looking in a different direction when we entered but looks over a few seconds after the bell rings.

    "Hi, welcome to the Wolf''s Dragon," she greets us with a smile. "Oh, hello, Trey! Been awhile since I saw you."

    "Hello, Emily," Mr. Caldwell says. "Has been awhile, been a bit busy with some stuff the last few months."

    "Do you mind if I get Xander''s order real quick? His doesn''t take that long."

    "I''m here with him, actually," Mr. Caldwell tells her. "You want to eat it here or take it to go?"

    That question was directed at me and now I''m not sure what to do. I hadn''t thought this far ahead! I always ate the cheesecake at the parking lot since I''m not allowed to eat in restaurants but I don''t think Mr. Caldwell would be happy sitting there while I ate and eating in cars isn''t allowed. The only reason I got to eat in a restaurant for lunch yesterday was because Mr. Caldwell let me but that was just an exception. He''ll be mad at me for asking to take up a table just to eat a slice of cheesecake.

    "He usually eats it in the parking lot," Emily says before I can figure out what to do. "Unless it''s raining or hailing, but he doesn''t come in on those days."

    "What about snow?"

    "Depends on how good the paths are for walking," Emily answers. "Snow doesn''t seem to stop him."

    Snow is nice. I like watching snow fall and eating cheesecake while doing it makes it even better. It''s never hindered me from going places, though Ms. Johnson didn''t let me go out if there''s heavy snowfall or very heavy snowfall. Or if things were icy or it was hailing. Or under a bunch of other conditions, but they don''t usually matter for snowfall.

    I guess the strong winds that usually happens with the very heavy snowfall is annoying. It likes to blow me around.

    "Well," Mr. Caldwell interrupts my thoughts. "It''s a bit too hot to be eating cheesecake outside, Xander. Want to take it home or eat in here?"

    I think that means he wants to eat it either at his house or here. Either way, that means eating it outside will get me into trouble and I don''t want to get into trouble. I''ve already had way too many screw-ups since he let me into his house yesterday.

    Since he wants to eat inside a building and he apparently knows the workers here, I think he wants to eat here.

    "H-here," I answer.

    "You guys can have a seat at the first table past the door," Emily tells Mr. Caldwell. "Let me grab you some menus and silverware."

    We sit at the table and Emily puts down a menu in front of each of us as well as a roll of silverware.

    "Do you want to wait a minute to order to see if there''s anything else you want, Xander?" Emily asks.

    This situation is too confusing and stressful for me and I end up blurting out a question I''ve had for awhile.

    "How do you know my name?"

    Emily just blinks at me a few times for some reason her smile fading for those few seconds. Oh no. I''m in trouble. They''re going to kick me out and ban me!

    "End of August last year," her smile returns. "You came in after school one day and had your school ID on. You ordered two slices of cheesecake that day. I remember it pretty clearly because it was all unusual ¨C happened on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday."

    I came in on a Wednesday at the end of August of last year, with my school ID on and I ordered two slices for some reason? That must be another thing I forgot. Oh, wait! My birthday! All of the boys at the home receive a little bit of money for their birthday as part of their present from the home and I asked Ms. Johnson before school if I could come here after school ended for the day and buy cheesecake with some of it. She said I could so I did, and I was really hungry and bought two slices. At least, I''m assuming I was really hungry. I can''t remember the reason I bought two. It might have just been because I felt brave enough to try celebrating.

    "S-sorry," I apologize. "I didn''t mean to blurt that out."

    "It''s okay," she tells me. "And just so you know, we called you ''cheesecake boy'' until then. Why don''t I give you a few minutes to see if there''s anything else you might want to try?"

    Mr. Caldwell thanks her and she goes to check on the only other customer in here. I look through the menu but notice something that makes me feel awful once I find the desserts section. We came all this way for nothing.

    "What''s wrong, Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "You look upset."

    "I''m sorry," I say. "I didn''t mean to."

    "That''s not something to apologize about," Mr. Caldwell says. "You were frowning at the menu pretty hard, though."

    "They¡­ they took it off the menu."

    "The cheesecake?" He asks. "It''s still on there."

    "Not the one Xander gets," Emily tells him, then looks at me. She returned to us just as Mr. Caldwell said that. "Xander, the red-white-and-blue cheesecake is actually a secret menu item most of the year. We only have it public on Memorial Day, Independence Day, and Labor Day. There are a few items on our secret menu and to be able to order one, you need to meet two requirements. First, you have to know about the item. Second, you have to be on our ''great customers'' list. Your first time coming in was Memorial Day, just-over three years ago so you saw it on the holiday menu you were given. I made an exception for you the next few times you came in since I had the discretion to do it and you were so polite, and you ended up earning your way onto the special list of customers who can order from our secret menu."

    I''m on a special list? And it''s not a bad list? How did I manage that?

    "So if you want your usual order, you can have it," Emily tells me. "Okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Now," she says. "Are you ready to place your order?"

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "What would you like?"

    "May I please get the red-white-and-blue cheesecake?" I ask. "And, um¡­ can I ask a question about it?"

    "Shoot."

    "Shoot what?" I ask.

    "It means go ahead," Mr. Caldwell tells me.

    "Oh," I feel my face heat up.

    Stupid fucking piece of shit me. I should have known that, I''m sure of it.

    "What''s your question?" Emily asks. "I''ll answer it if I can."

    "Does, um¡­ does it have white chocolate chips in the crust?"

    "Not chips," she says. "But yes, there''s white chocolate in it. I think Amy grinds up some pieces of premium white chocolate into the shortbread she uses for the crust."

    Brave time is over. I don''t want to push my luck with questions. Just being courageous enough to ask that has scared me. At least I have confirmation now after my curiosity last Saturday.

    "Would you like anything else?" Emily asks. "Any sides? Entrees? Drinks?"

    "No, thank you," I say.

    "Alright," she says, then looks at Mr. Caldwell. "How about you, sir? What would you like to order?"

    "Could I get a slice of the caramel-swirl cheesecake and a glass of lemonade?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Along with a side of onions rings and mozzarella sticks, please."

    "Sure thing," Emily says. "I''ll be back with the drinks and cheesecake in just a minute and it''ll be a few more before the apps are ready."

    Apps? Restaurants give people apps to go with their meals?

    Emily leaves and Mr. Caldwell clears his throat a little. I look at him.

    "You looked confused," he says. "Want me to see if I can try to clear it up?"

    This is a trick question, isn''t it? I don''t want him to try and help with my confusion because then I''ll owe him but if I say no he''ll know I''m lying and punish me. If I say yes then he''ll be upset with me for being ignorant and also punish me. I don''t want a beating!

    "Restaurants give apps with your food?"

    "Apps?" Mr. Caldwell frowns and I flinch. Instead of beating me, he just laughs. "No, Xander, not apps for your phone. Apps as in short for appetizers. The onion rings and mozzarella sticks."

    "Oh," I feel my face heat up again.

    Why am I so stupid?

    Emily brings out a glass of water for me, a glass of lemonade for Mr. Caldwell, and the slices of cheesecake we ordered, then lets us know to let her know if we need anything else. Cal comes out a minute later and walks over.

    "Hey, Trey," Cal greets him. "Hey, Xander. Eating inside today?"

    "Mr. Caldwell wanted to."

    "Did he?" Cal asks. "Surprised to see you with him, though."

    "I''m in the process of adopting him," Mr. Caldwell says. "He moved into my house yesterday morning."

    "Oh, cool," Cal says, then looks at me. "Didn''t realize you were a foster kid, Xander. My brothers and I are, too."

    "Really?"

    Cal has brothers?

    "Yup," Cal says. "Our dad died about nine years ago, when the twins were only a year old, and our mom abandoned us almost five years ago. David, the owner of the Wolf''s Dragon, took us in after finding out back in November."

    That''s not long after Cal started working here, he started last October.

    "He''s in the process of adopting us," Cal tells me. "But has to wait awhile yet since the state requires eighteen months. I''ll be almost eighteen by then but I''m happy since my brothers don''t have to worry about stuff."

    "Worry?"

    "Yeah," Cal''s face tints pink for some reason. Isn''t that for when people are embarrassed. "I didn''t report the abandonment when it happened and instead tried taking care of everything on my own. Forged papers so that we could keep going to school, came up with excuses why our parents weren''t available, and so on. That''s part of why I started working as soon as I turned sixteen ¨C I wasn''t sure how much money was left in the bank account that bills were coming out of and I knew the emergency cash reserves wouldn''t last forever. We needed money so I could get my brothers some better stuff as well. New clothes, school supplies, more food, and so on. None of them knew our situation was bad or anything and so weren''t worried, but Travis ¨C the oldest of them ¨C was starting to reach the age where that sort of thing would start coming up. Extra expenses, I mean. I wanted to make sure he didn''t have anything to worry about so he could focus on school and whatever activities he wanted to do."

    "That''s nice of you."

    "I try to look out for my brothers," Cal tells me. "Taking on a job turned out to be too much for me on top of everything else I was handling and¡­ I kind of had a breakdown during a shift about a month after I started here. Admitted everything to David and he looked into taking us in.

    "Honestly," Cal lets out a small laugh. "Now that I''m out of that situation, I''m kind of surprised it actually worked. A twelve-year-old shouldn''t have been able to do everything I managed and I sometimes feel as if there was someone else doing something to make sure it worked. I''ve asked the youngest brother if he knows anything about that, but he just says ''it''s a mystery'' when I push. Which kind of indicates he knows something¡­ but getting information out of him is like trying to pull a dragon''s teeth."

    Dragons have dentists? I thought their teeth were among the most resilient materials on Earth? The dork wasn''t lying when he told me that, though I suppose it may have just been something he believed to be true.

    "How do you like living with Trey?" Cal asks me.

    "He hasn''t beat me yet."

    "Beat you?" Cal asks. "Did you get beaten at your old home?"

    "No."

    "The home before that," Mr. Caldwell tells him. "It''s understandable that he''d be nervous in a new home and I know it will take time for him to adjust."

    "Did they at least get arrested?" Cal asks. "The people who beat you? I hope they were blocked from fostering ever again."

    "Arrest warrants were issued," Mr. Caldwell tells Cal. "But the family vanished without a trace before the officers showed up. No one really knows what happened to them and I think Xander''s still scared that they''re going to find him and try again."

    Very much so.

    "I was told they got eaten by a griffin."

    Oops. Didn''t mean to say that.

    "By a griffin?" Cal asks. "That seems pretty random."

    The dork is very random sometimes and he''s the one who told me that. I like to hope something like that is true, though, because it would serve them right for all that they did to me. Bad Xander! Having mean thoughts about people gets you beatings!

    "Well," Cal says. "I''m going to get back to work. Enjoy your food, Xander."

    "T-thank you."

    Cal leaves and I return to eating my cheesecake. The whole conversation has me confused but also a little bit scared. I just want to curl up in a ball and hide under a blanket now.

 Chapter 006

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell startles me from behind.

    "I didn''t do it!"

    He''s dressed in more casual clothes again rather than his suit. It seems that he mostly puts on the suit when he goes out and wears more casual clothes in the house. I can''t figure out if he wants me to wear the suit he bought me when I leave or not and I''m too scared to ask.

    "Do¡­ what?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Um¡­ I don''t remember?"

    But if he''s approaching me this late then I must have done something wrong, right? Since he brought me here last week, he''s mostly left me alone after seven-thirty in the evening apart from telling me ''goodnight'' when it was time for me to go to bed. It''s now seven forty-five so it''s not the time I normally go to bed. Unless Mr. Caldwell wants me to go to bed early for some reason? I must have done something wrong again.

    "It''s Tuesday," he says. "You normally go to the bowling alley Tuesday nights, right?"

    "They usually let me at the home if I''m allowed to and the weather is good. Some exceptions."

    Even breaking my arm a few months ago didn''t stop me, though bowling was really awkward. The doctor said it was a simple break and should be healed within six to eight weeks but they weren''t able to remove the last cast until ten weeks because my body is awful and took forever to heal.

    "What time do you normally go?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Um¡­ I normally arrive around nine and rent a lane for an hour, then leave around ten to return to the home," I answer. "But I kept messing up because I''m an accidental bad boy so I can''t go today."

    "Accidental bad-Xander, did I say you aren''t allowed to go?"

    "No."

    "You''re not in trouble," he tells me. "If you want to go, you can. Didn''t it take awhile for you to walk there from the boys'' home?"

    "Yeah."

    "How late did you get back?"

    "Depended on the traffic, but Ms. Johnson let me stay out until eleven for when I went bowling as an exception."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "If you want to go, you can. Just remember to ask me beforehand. If you ever aren''t allowed to go and I haven''t told you yet, I''ll let you know then, okay? You''re allowed tonight."

    "Thank you, sir."

    "Do you want me to drive you or Quinn?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "If I drive you, are you okay with me watching you play, maybe even join in for a game or two?"

    He just wants to show me how much better than I am he is at bowling and rejecting this will probably get my bowling privileges taken away. I don''t want that. I like going to the bowling alley once a week.

    "You can drive me and come in."

    That''s probably not a good wording since it implies I have control over his actions, but I can''t think of another way to say it that doesn''t result in me lying by saying I''m okay with it. I''m not okay with it and I don''t want to get beaten for lying.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "If you''re okay with going now, go ahead and get your shoes on."

    I nod, then locate my shoes and put them on before meeting up with Mr. Caldwell, who''s put on his shoes but not changed out of casual clothes and into a suit. Mr. Caldwell drives me to the bowling alley, though I have to tell him which one it is since there are four in the area and he didn''t know which one I liked going to. He actually asked me if it was Salamander Stream Bowling Alley but I hate that location. That''s the one closest to the boys'' home which is probably the reason he thought that''s the one I went to.

    Their staff members are mean.

    We arrive at the bowling alley a little after eight and Lena is behind the desk when we approach.

    "Hello, Xander," she greets me. "You''re here early tonight. Is this your dad?"

    "No."

    "It says ten dollars per person per game," Mr. Caldwell says. "Xander, you said you rent a lane for an hour?"

    "We do per-hour rentals as well," Lena tells him. "Twenty dollars per person playing in that lane. It should be up there," Lena looks up at the board. "Huh. Someone erased it. That''s what happens when you use chalk," she looks at Mr. Caldwell. "Xander does normally rent one for an hour, though. Shoe rental is three dollars, and we do need to keep your own shoes back here as a form of insurance."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell looks at me. "Didn''t you say you only spent ten dollars? And then another ten on food?"

    I didn''t lie!

    "He has a membership," Lena tells Mr. Caldwell. "Lane rentals cost half for him and shoe rental is free. That costs three-fifty a year and is a saving as long as you come here at least twenty-six times, or once every two weeks."

    "You have a membership?" Mr. Caldwell asks me.

    "Santa gifted it to me even though I''m on the naughty list."

    I didn''t mean to say that out loud, but Mr. Caldwell doesn''t laugh like other people usually do if I say that. He''ll probably tell me when we return to his house that Santa isn''t real even though I know Santa is. We argue about whether or not I''m on the naughty list every Christmas.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Xander, do you want to play for just one hour like normal or two hours to finish around the normal time?"

    Two whole hours? That''s more than I can usually afford, but I think I remember Mr. Caldwell telling me that it won''t come out of my allowance, that he''ll pay for my Tuesday bowling. Thirty dollars total, so this will leave ten dollars for me if I say two hours. I would like to bowl for longer but I''m not sure if Mr. Caldwell is actually wanting to or if he''s testing me. This is a hard decision!

    "Can I bowl for two hours, please?"

    "Sure," Mr. Caldwell answers, then looks at Lena. "Two hours for two playing, and we''ll both need shoe rentals."

    "Bowling shoes are sized a little differently," Lena tells him. "What''s your normal size? And that''ll be forty dollars."

    Mr. Caldwell tells her his shoe size while he pays, then she fetches the shoes for him and for me, and we hand her our shoes. I pull on my rented shoes and tie them, then Mr. Caldwell does that as well.

    "So we just go over to the lane?" Mr Caldwell asks.

    "C-can we go to the concessions first, p-please?" I ask.

    "Sure," he says. "Where''s that at?"

    "Over here."

    I walk over to the concessions area and get in line behind the customer who''s currently ordering. She takes a little while but I think she''s ordering for a group. Once she''s done, I step up to the counter.

    "Hey, little man!" Chris greets me. "You came early today!"

    "Yeah," I answer. "May I please have the cheeseburger combo with no mustard on it? And can I please have lemonade for the drink?"

    "Sure can," he says. "Will that be all?"

    "Yes, please."

    "Guess that big binge last week was because of our special, huh?" He grins. "Had a lot of people ordering more."

    "I only have a budget of ten dollars."

    "If you want more, you can," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "B-b-but you told me only thirty dollars for bowling nights," I say. "And we rented the lane for two hours s-s-so that leaves ten. D-d-d-did I do the math wrong?"

    "I said thirty because you said you normally spend twenty," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "And that was if you came here alone, not with me. Don''t worry about the price. If you want to order more, go ahead. Order as much as you think you can eat."

    He''s probably going to be mad at me if I follow the order to order as much as I think I can eat. I don''t want to do it but I have to or I''ll get in trouble for breaking the rules and I don''t want to get into trouble and get sent back to the home. I''ve never gotten to sleep in such a comfortable bed before. Or eat food as delicious as what Ms. Katie makes. I want to stay there as long as possible before Mr. Caldwell sends me back.

    But this is a problem because either I follow his directions and he gets mad at me for ordering too much food or I don''t order as much as I think I can eat and he gets mad at me for not following directions. Why does everything have to be so hard?

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "You need a minute to decide?"

    "Um¡­ can I please get a pretzel with cheese combo," I tell Chris. "Two of them, please. And a second burger combo. Also, can I please have the nachos and cheese combo? And, um¡­ two sides of onion rings and a side of mozzarella sticks. Also, can I get an ice cream sundae with strawberry topping but not chocolate topping, with banana bits and chopped nuts? And a lemonade for all of the drinks. Please and thank you."

    Chris just kind of stares at me for a moment, then he looks at Mr. Caldwell. I look down at my feet. This was probably bad and Mr. Caldwell is probably going to call me a liar for wanting so much food. He''ll probably accuse me of trying to waste food and his money.

    "I would like the nachos and cheese combo," Mr. Caldwell tells Chris. "Unsweetened iced tea for a drink, a ten-piece order of the honey-barbecue wings, an order of onion rings, and the normal sundae for dessert."

    "Sure can," Chris tells him. "It might take a few minutes to get all the food prepared, do you want us to bring it out as it finishes?"

    "Yes," Mr. Caldwell answers. "And can we get the desserts a little bit later, or is that not something you guys can do here."

    "We do it all the time," Chris answers.

    Chris rings up the order, then Mr. Caldwell pays and we head to Lane 20, which we were assigned to tonight. I like Lane 20 because that means there''s only one lane beside me so fewer people are likely to come this way. Unless the place is really busy, Lane 19 is almost always empty when I''m here, too.

    "Don''t worry if you don''t manage to eat all of the food," Mr. Caldwell tells me once we''ve picked out our bowling balls. "I''ll see if we can get what''s left boxed up so we can take it home with us. Okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Now¡­ I''ve never been bowling before," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Can you explain how this works?"

    He knows I can tell when people are lying, but I guess he felt it safe since I wasn''t looking in his eyes. This is definitely a test to see how honest I am. I wouldn''t try lying to him in the first place so it''s not necessary, so I''m glad this is a test I can pass. Hopefully.

    "Um¡­ you put your name or nickname into this," I show him the computer assigned to our lane. "And it goes up onto the big TV right there," I point at the scoreboard TV set up over the spot where the carpeted area meets the bowling area. "And there are ten rounds per game, but the last round wants you to bowl three times. It only ever wants me to bowl once per round for the other rounds, but other people usually bowl twice per round. I''m not sure why. You take turns bowling, with it going in order that the names were put. At least, that''s what I''ve observed so I think that''s how it works. I''ve never bowled with someone else before so I''m not entirely sure. I think you''re supposed to get a score close to two-fifty ''cause that''s what some other boys who bowl here on Tuesdays get really happy if they reach."

    "What do you normally get?"

    "Three hundred."

    "I see," he says. "And is there a special way you''re supposed to bowl?"

    "Yeah," I grab the bowling ball I picked out. "You hold the ball like this, and stand like this, and then you move like this. You swing-" I put the ball back down. "You swing like this as you do it and let go of the ball. Oh. You hold it by curling your fingers in the holes and let go by uncurling. At least, that''s how I do it. I''m not sure if that''s how you''re supposed to do it. Also, if you cross that line at the start of the lane there, it lets out a really loud noise and scares me and cancels your points for that round."

    I make sure I don''t cross the line anymore. I did that a few times when I first started here but quickly learned I wasn''t supposed to. The staff came over and told me I wasn''t allowed to cross that line after the third time I did it. I just wished they wouldn''t have the noise so loud, it really hurt my ears and scared me.

    "Okay," Mr. Caldwell says. "Do you want to go first or want to flip a coin so we can see who goes first?"

    There''s no option for letting him go first so I choose to flip a coin. Mr. Caldwell tells me to call it so I pick heads and it ends up being heads, so I put in XANDER for my username and then he puts in Trey.

    Some of the food we ordered shows up while we''re playing the first game, and since I have time to eat while waiting for Mr. Caldwell to finish his round, I''m able to eat more as well. Because there are two of us and because Mr. Caldwell bowls twice every time, the game takes a long time compared to my usual games, which last around twenty minutes depending on how much I eat between rounds.

    The black-haired boy and his friends show up at roughly eight-thirty and are assigned to Lane 18. They''re usually assigned there which I like because even if they''re sometimes rowdy, at least I know they aren''t going to bother me like other groups do. They also don''t get drunk, probably because they''re too young to order alcohol without parental approval and supervision.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    "You really did score a three hundred," Mr. Caldwell says once our first game ends. "I only managed ninety-seven, but it''s my first time. Do you mind holding off on the second game for a few minutes? The tea''s gotten to me so I need to use the restroom."

    They have unlimited refills on drinks and Mr. Caldwell has already had his refilled once. I''ve gone through a full cup of lemonade but I don''t have to pee yet.

    "Okay," I say.

    Mr. Caldwell leaves to go to the bathroom and I sit down so that I can eat some more while he''s gone. After about a minute, a man approaches me. I think I''ve seen him before. He looks familiar, but I''m fairly certain I don''t know him.

    "Xander?" The man asks.

    Stranger danger!

    "Do you see that group of boys there?" He indicates the group on Lane 18, who are all standing on the other side of the closer table for their lane and watching us. Their hair looks glittery for some reason. "My name is Paul Thompson, and the boy with brown hair and blue eyes, the second one from the left, is my son, Connor. The one with black hair and blue eyes on the left is S.G., the one on the right is Isaac, and the boy with brown hair and eyes between Isaac and Connor is Sam. They''re all thirteen, so probably a few years older than you."

    Stranger danger! This is scary! Especially since he thinks I''m ten because I''m so short! I need to scream so someone can see that someone''s trying to creep on me but I can''t get my mouth to open. My body won''t move! Somebody help me!

    "They''ve told us dads about you a few times," he says. "And tonight, they mentioned that you had an unfamiliar man with you and you seemed especially anxious about something, including that you were trying to keep some distance between yourself and the man. Since you''ve never come here with someone else before, they were concerned that he''s a creeper who won''t leave you alone and forced you into letting him play with you. If that''s the case, you can tell me and I can call the police for you, get them to remove him. I can call your parents, too. Sam''s and Isaac''s dads will make sure he stays away from you until the police get here if he''s not friendly."

    He''s¡­ concerned about me? Now that he''s explained a bit I''ve found myself able to move again. The other boys were concerned about me and told their dads. That has me really confused. Why would someone be concerned about me? Especially strangers?

    "Do you want me to do that?" Mr. Thompson asks.

    "H-he''s my foster dad," I tell him.

    "Not all foster parents are nice," Mr. Thompson tells me. "Has he hurt you?"

    "N-not yet."

    "Not yet?"

    "But it''s only a matter of time before I behave really badly and he does."

    "How long have you lived with him?" Mr. Thompson asks.

    "Since Friday," I answer. "Ms. Johnson said he''s nice but I''m a bad boy and bad boys get beaten for messing up."

    Mr. Thompson thinks for a few moments.

    "So you''re just scared you''re going to get beaten?" Mr. Thompson asks. "Has he done anything to make you think that he would?"

    "No," I answer. "But it''s only a matter of time because I mess up too much."

    "Okay," Mr. Thompson says. "Can I ask who Ms. Johnson is?"

    "One of the staff at the boys'' home."

    "Is that were you lived before you moved in with him?"

    "Yes."

    Why is he asking me so many questions? Why does he care? I want to stop answering his questions but I get the feeling he won''t stop until I answer everything and that scares me.

    "Did she ever beat you?"

    "No."

    "Even when you messed up?"

    "But it was only a matter of time."

    "How long did you live there?"

    "Just-over three years," I answer. "I got moved there on May 19<sup>th</sup> of 2020."

    "May of¡­ you lived there for three years and never got a beating?" Mr. Thompson asks and I nod. "Even when you misbehaved?"

    "Yeah."

    "Beating a child for misbehaving is not normal," Mr. Thompson tells me. "In fact, it''s illegal. It wasn''t ''only a matter of time'', Xander. You never got beaten there because that''s not how they punished you."

    It''s illegal to beat a child? I don''t believe him. He''s a stranger. There''s a good chance he''s a creep. Should I try to call the police? I''m not that good at subtlety though and he''d probably see me making the call.

    "I can see I''m making you uncomfortable," you got that right. "So before I go, I want to double-check: he''s your current guardian and he''s not hurting you or doing anything inappropriate to you?"

    "Yes."

    "Alright," Mr. Thompson says. "And the reason you seem anxious is because you''re not that familiar with him right now and are just afraid of getting hurt?"

    "Yes."

    "But he hasn''t actually done or said anything to make you think he might hurt you."

    "Um¡­ yes."

    "Do you mind if I ask how your arm broke?"

    I mind very much but I''m really, really scared right now.

    "My roommate at the home tried teaching me how to ride a skateboard," I answer. "One of the wheels popped off and I fell and landed funny. The doctor said it was a clean break and should heal within about six to eight weeks but it took almost ten. Bowling was really awkward."

    Nick was really sorry about the accident. I''ve never heard him apologize that much before but it wasn''t his fault. It was mine. I shouldn''t have tried to ride a skateboard and that was my punishment for trying to have fun.

    "Alright," Mr. Thompson says. "Do you mind if I tell the boys that he''s your new foster dad? They''re very concerned about you."

    "Okay."

    "One last question, then I''m gone," Mr. Thompson says. "Do you mind telling me the name of the boys'' home?"

    Why does he want to know that? Is he going to tell them that I''ve been a really bad boy. I''m trying not to be!

    "F-Fourth Wing B-Boys'' Home."

    "Fourth Wing?" He asks. "Wait. Is the Ms. Johnson you mentioned Tiffany Johnson?"

    That''s two more questions, but he wasn''t lying to me. How does he know Ms. Johnson, though? I''m definitely getting into trouble and I don''t know why! Why am I so bad?

    "Y-yeah."

    "Alright," Mr. Thompson says. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Xander."

    "Bye."

    Mr. Thompson walks over to the other boys and says something to them, then they start bowling as he walks further past. When he reaches Lane 12, I see that there are two men there who are talking with Mr. Caldwell and it seems kind of like they''re blocking his path. Only after Mr. Thompson talks to them do they seem to relax a little, though it''s still a few more minutes before Mr. Caldwell comes back over to me.

    "Are you okay?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "I''m not sure."

    "I didn''t notice that you were uncomfortable," Mr. Caldwell tells me as I stare at my food. "I apologize for that. If you want, I can leave and wait in the car until you''re finished so you can be more relaxed."

    But that would probably upset him and I don''t want to upset him. I know Mr. Thompson said that beating a kid isn''t normal but I don''t know Mr. Thompson.

    "Do you want to bowl first for the next game?" I ask. "The computer lets us change the order."

    I noticed that after our first game ended.

    "Why don''t you keep bowling first?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Can you look me in the eyes?" I comply with his order. "I asked them about the scoring while we were talking and found out that a three hundred is a perfect score. Xander, you bowl with a master-level amount of skill."

    That is¡­ the truth. I''m not a bad bowler? That''s hard to believe because I''m bad at nearly everything and I''m not athletic at all. How could I be a master-level bowler? This is confusing and I decide that it''s better to just get back to bowling instead of hurting my brain over it.

    By the time we finish bowling, I''ve eaten all of the food that I ordered and even accidentally ate some of Mr. Caldwell''s onion rings. All he did was chuckle once he let me know they were his but I was still worried about getting into trouble. This means that there was nothing left for us to take home and it sounded like he wanted to take some home based on what he said when we first got to the lane.

    "Were you still hungry after dinner?" Mr. Caldwell asks as we go to the car, several papers containing the scores from each game we played in my hands. I didn''t know they offered to print up the scores from each game here. "You really did eat quite a lot."

    "Sorry."

    "There''s nothing to apologize for," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "But it does seem like you didn''t eat enough at dinner. Were you still hungry after?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "You''re allowed to ask for seconds," he tells me. "If you''re ever still hungry after you eat, we can get you more. There''s no reason for you to go hungry while you live with me, though you did seem to eat quite a lot here."

    "Sorry."

    "I wasn''t scolding you," he says. "It was an observation. You packed away more food over the last two hours than even a full-grown man should be able to. That''s impressive, though it does suggest you have some sort of innate magic running."

    "Innate magic?"

    "Yes," Mr. Caldwell gestures for me to get into the SUV, then continues speaking once we''re in and buckled. "I''m not a mage, myself, but I know that mages tend to burn food a little bit faster if they''ve been using magic. From my understanding of it, their digestive systems are magically-different from a normal person''s as well, enabling them to process food into energy much faster. You probably have some sort of strong innate magic ¨C something other than your lie-detection ability ¨C running at all times to cause your higher intake ability."

    "Is that bad?"

    "No, Xander, it''s not bad," he says. "It just means you need more food. If you want, I can hire someone to help you learn what it is and maybe even train it. Or if you don''t want to, then we won''t."

    If I have a powerful innate magic already then training it would just make me stand out more. I don''t dye my hair for no reason.

    "I-I don''t think I want that."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Then just remember that if you''re ever still hungry after you eat, you can ask for seconds. Okay?"

    "Yes, sir."

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú Starts during Xander''s PoV

    "I''m still looking for an answer about the hair spray," Mr. Thompson says as the seven of us make our way to the front door of the bowling alley.

    "Yes," Mr. Michaels says. "Where did you boys get that from?"

    "What hair spray?" Isaac asks, and it''s taking all of our effort to keep straight faces.

    Connor, Sam, Isaac, and I used silver glitter hairspray earlier while the dads weren''t looking. We were swimming at Sam''s house and decided to do it after showering to wash off the pool chemicals. As a result, our hair is very sparkly at the moment and none of the dads were aware we''d done that until we were getting ready to leave for here.

    "Our hair has always been like this," I say. "We were blessed by the gods of the unicorns to have special hair for all time. Didn''t you notice it when we were born?"

    "I wasn''t there for your birth," Mr. Michaels gives me a light slap to the back of the head. "You boys aren''t going to tell us, are you?"

    "Nope!" The four of us answer in unison.

    We bought the spray a few months ago but forgot about it until Sam was getting the hair dryer after his shower and saw it in the drawer. The dads should have been suspicious when we ran back out to the yard.

    Giving up on questioning us, the dads join us in entering the bowling alley. We pay for our lanes then for our food before heading to Lane 18. I once asked Lena why she always put us on Lane 18 instead of any other lane and she said because it''s quiet enough that she can and having a group on Lane 18 gives them reason not to put someone on Lane 19 while Xander''s here unless they''re really busy. Even she had noticed that Xander is skittish around other¡­ who the heck is that?

    There''s a man with Xander, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt in addition to his bowling shoes, and Xander doesn''t look at all comfortable. The four of us notice that really fast, especially since we start watching them while swapping our shoes, putting out our bowling balls, and setting up our first game. Xander does his best to avoid getting too close to the man and jumping a little with an extremely terrified expression if the man moving close to him.

    "What do you think is going on?" I whisper to Connor. "Think he''s some perv who''s forcing himself onto Xander?"

    "Probably," Connor says.

    "Xander probably came here when he noticed the guy following hoping he''d go away since it''s got other people here," Sam says. "It would explain why he''s here before us instead of at nine, too."

    Because Xander was probably just out for a walk or something, noticed himself being tailed, and then decided to go to a place he knows is safe immediately rather than waiting.

    "Think the man threatened him to let him join?" Isaac asks.

    "I''m gonna go tell my dad," Connor says. "Xander looks really scared."

    "He does," I nod. "I''ll keep an eye on them."

    Connor hurries off to the dads and returns after about a minute.

    "Dad said they''ll wait to see if Xander or the man separate for a minute," Connor says. "If they do, then they''ll see what''s going on. If not, then they''ll stop them once they go to leave. Also to text them if we see anything really creepy, like the man touching Xander."

    Connor''s dad is a doctor specializing in adolescents and in this country, that means he''s a mandated reporter. The dads are probably going to be watching the situation as well and they probably want to try and get Xander alone so they can ask him about the man without the man being with Xander at the time. That could probably cause a problem.

    We only manage to play one frame before I notice something changing. Their game has finished and the man with Xander says something to him, then leaves. As soon as the man has passed by our lane, Xander immediately looks relieved. He even pulls himself up into one of the chairs (why are they so tall?) and starts devouring food.

    "Connor, text your dad," I say. "The man''s walked off."

    Connor looks over, then pulls out his phone and shoots off a text. We look down to where the dads are ¨C Lane 12, the one they''re usually put on ¨C and watch to see what they do. The man walks past them, probably heading toward the concessions stand, then Connor''s dad makes his way down here.

    "They''re going to stop him on his way back through," Mr. Thompson tells us. "Let me talk to Xander for a minute."

    We nod and watch as Mr. Thompson goes over to talk with Xander. Mr. Thompson points us out to Xander, probably letting him know that we were concerned, then they talk for a few minutes. Xander looks scared again, but he lets out a breath of relief and returns to eating once Mr. Thompson starts walking back over to us.

    "Xander said he''s a foster kid," Mr. Thompson tells us. "The man he''s with is his new foster dad. It seems he''s just skittish with new people. Also, I asked about the broken arm and he said it happened skateboarding, that one of the wheels popped off and he fell and landed on his arm."

    "Ouch," I wince.

    "Yeah," Mr. Thompson says.

    "You don''t think that''s the truth, though?" Connor asks.

    "No," Mr. Thompson frowns a little. "Something he said bothered me but it''s not something I should discuss with you."

    That means there''s cause for concern and he''s going to try to investigate with what information he managed to get out of Xander.

    "And not from his new foster dad," Mr. Thompson adds. "It does seem that Xander''s just skittish with a new guardian. You boys get back to bowling."

    Mr. Thompson heads back to the other dads and we return to our game. It looks like Mr. Richardson and Mr. Michaels stopped the foster dad on his way back over and are talking with him. Mr. Thompson joins them and talks with him for a few minutes, then the foster dad comes over and rejoins Xander.

    Even though Connor''s dad said it''s okay, I can''t help but keep looking over to see if Xander''s doing okay. He definitely seems to be doing his best to avoid the man. I can''t help but be suspicious with that happening. When they stop playing at about ten, Xander quickly gathers up all of his trash and compacts it as much as possible, then puts it in the trash can.

    That boy can eat. I''m a mage and I don''t think I could put away that much food. That must be why he''s so skinny ¨C he''s burning through everything he eats rather fast. Now I want to know what kind of magic he has.

    "Hey, guys!" I say once Xander''s gone. "I think Xander''s a mage! Did you see how much food he eats?"

    "Yeah," Connor says. "I didn''t even know it was possible to eat that much! And he''s super skinny!"

    "He''s probably converting it to energy almost immediately," I say. "I bet he''s a teleporter."

    "Aren''t all teleporters, like, scatter-brained?" Sam asks. "He''s probably an earth mage."

    "Not all teleporters," I say. "Just most. My teacher said it''s because they tend to be hyper due to needing to eat a lot of calories to fuel their magic and make up for the mana they expend and then just getting filled up with lots of energy."

    Well, that''s not exactly how she explained it. Everyone produces mana over time, usually slowly. Just like with other aspects of our health, various things can influence our rate of production. How healthy we are, how well-rested we are, how much we''ve been eating, and so on. Any excess energy our body has, it takes and uses to speed up our mana generation as long as we aren''t already full of mana.

    We''re not converting food into mana, though. Rather, our body''s magics converts any extra food we eat beyond what we need to be filled into energy, which allows it to produce mana at a faster rate. It''s also not ''speeding up'' our generation of mana but simply giving our body the energy needed in order to operate at a rate closer to its best.

    That does require us to have some mana in the first place, though, since converting food into energy is a magical process already.

    For casters of extremely advanced magics like dimensional ones, they burn through their mana so fast that they need to let their body recover it as fast as possible. As a result, they tend to eat a lot of food, which results in more being converted to energy than is needed to let their mana recovery rate operate at full. This results in them having too much normal energy and becoming super hyper until they finish burning through that extra energy to fuel their mana regeneration.

    "Maybe," Isaac says. "But remember? Xander usually only eats one combo when he''s here, not the mass amount of food he had last week or this week. Why''d you go to teleporter? Why not something like lightning mage?"

    "Because it''d be awesome!" I exclaim. "Wait! A teleporting lightning mage! That''d be even more awesome! Especially if he combined the two together and would make his body all sparky while he teleports! I heard there''s a rich boy our age who''s a really skilled lightning mage!"

    They call him a prodigy in magic. He''s one of the reasons why I wanted to learn magic even though I don''t come from a magical bloodline. When I found out that a boy our age took an elemental''s attack without suffering any harm, I immediately fell in love with the idea of being able to use lightning magic. That takes far too much mana for my current reserves so I need to build them up. I also need to build up skill with using magic.

    "Do you think the rumor about him actually killing an elemental is true?" Sam asks before grabbing his ball so he can take his turn.

    "Does it matter?" I ask. "What matters is that lightning magic is awesome and I can''t wait until I can cast it. When I do, I''ll finally be able to punch the sky!"

    "Dork," Connor giggles.

    "Maybe," I grin at him. "But I''m still the least-weird one of us. Now move over, I''m stealing your nachos."

 Chapter 007

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "I''m stupid," I tell my reflection. "I''m ugly. I''m a worthless piece of shit."

    What was the next part? Mr. Caldwell told me after we returned from the bowling alley last night that I should do this in the mornings. I''m not sure I remember the whole thing correctly but am too afraid to ask him what it was. What if he doesn''t let me eat breakfast today because I forgot his directions?

    I remember something about saying three bad things about myself¡­ oh, right. Three good things about myself was the other part.

    "I didn''t get beaten yesterday," I say. "I didn''t break anything yesterday. And, um¡­ um¡­ oh. I''m apparently really good at bowling?"

    That last one makes me feel good, but then I feel guilty for it. I''m better than Mr. Caldwell is at bowling and he''s probably not happy about that. A waste of space like me shouldn''t be better than anyone at anything.

    Huffing, I finish touching up my roots. My hair grows fairly fast so I usually need to touch up the roots about once a week. I also gave my hair its first cut of the month as well, though it was more of trimming to keep it from being too long.

    One thing I''m glad about is that I can acquire the touch-up kit in a bulk pack for really cheap. The dye I use costs ten dollars for a box and holds very well and they sell a ten-time touch-up kit for only twenty dollars. It''s one of the only things I use my allowance for outside of bowling and buying cheesecake. Me spending money on something else instead of putting it to my emergency stash is even rarer than buying the dye or touch-up kits.

    Supposedly, my hair would stay whatever color I wanted it to even without me touching up the roots as long as I wanted it really hard. I''m pretty sure the reason my hairs grows so fast is because it''s trying to get rid of the dye. The dye actually sticking to it surprises me.

    Since the dork is the one who told me that my hair would stay the same color, though, I''m fairly certain it was just a case of him mixing up reality and his dreams again.

    After I finish touching up my roots, I clean up the mess I made, then change out of the shorts I wear for doing anything with hair dye and pull on one of the outfits Mr. Caldwell bought for me on Friday. This one is just a pair of dark blue jeans and a grey shirt, the shirt a long-sleeved one like I usually wear. Unlike my old clothes, this outfit was new when I received it. The jeans and shirt are also much more comfortable and I like how the shirt feels against my skin. Much softer.

    Ms. Johnson tried to find me clothes that wouldn''t feel coarse but it was hard when having to look at cheaper shops and second-hand shops. I appreciated the effort but I''m not sure why she went to the trouble for me. The effort she put in should have gone to boys who were more worthy of it.

    "There you are, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says when I enter the dining room. "Did you sleep alright after you fell back asleep?"

    Every night since coming here, Mr. Caldwell has woken me up from a nightmare because I was screaming too loud. Despite me waking him up, Mr. Caldwell still plays Go Fish with me until I fall asleep again. Ms. Katie also plays with us, though she usually fetches me a glass of water first.

    When will he just admit that I''m not right for here and send me back?

    "Y-yes, sir," I answer. "Sorry for waking you up again."

    "It''s okay, Xander," it''s nowhere near okay. It''s entirely unacceptable! Just send me back already! "Come, have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready. Katie made cinnamon rolls. Do you like those?"

    Oh, no. Not a question like this!

    "N-no, sir."

    "That''s okay," Mr. Caldwell says. "Could you at least try it? Sometimes, a small change to a recipe can change how much a person likes or dislikes something. Think of it like burgers ¨C you like there being onion and ketchup, but not too much, right? And you don''t like it if there''s mustard but might if there''s not."

    That makes sense, so I nod to agree to try the cinnamon rolls that Ms. Katie serves us. The rolls are huger than the ones we sometimes got at the boys'' home or at school, and there''s a lot more icing on top of mine than I''m used to. The icing is even still liquid from warmth instead of hardening up already.

    For the sides for breakfast, there are two sausage links and a bowl with pink yogurt, some granola-looking things, some chopped nuts, and some blueberries and chunks of what I think are peaches. I know there are peach trees in the back yard so they probably are peaches.

    I''m given a choice of orange juice or milk for breakfast so I choose orange juice. So that I can wash down the taste as quickly as possible, I wait for the juice to arrive before I take my first bite of the cinnamon roll.

    It''s¡­ not as bad as I thought it was. I don''t like it, but I don''t hate it. The cinnamon roll is also a lot fluffier than I expected it to be. As a compromise for getting to eat stuff I like for breakfast sometimes, I''ll be okay with this since Mr. Caldwell wants it. At least it''s better than bacon or eggs or worse ¨C both. Bacon takes the place of sausage on his plate but he has the yogurt as well instead of eggs.

    My favorite part of the cinnamon roll is the icing¡­ but also that Mr. Caldwell offers me syrup and I can dunk the roll bits I tear off into that. Dunked in syrup, the cinnamon roll is much more delicious.

    "Are you still hungry?" Mr. Caldwell asks once I finish eating.

    This is a trick question. He knows that I''m still hungry, I''m certain of it. He''ll tell me that''s all I get if I say yes but call me a liar if I say no and then punish me, possibly with a severe beating. Better to go with the lesser of the two evils: being honest.

    "Y-yes."

    "Do you want seconds?" I nod. "What would you like more of?"

    "Um¡­ anything."

    That should be safe. Says I''ll eat what''s put in front of me instead of making an actual request. Mr. Caldwell would decide what I eat anyway so this doesn''t act like I''m in charge. It''s also not a lie because I''d like more of anything I was served, even the cinnamon rolls. They''re not so bad once dunked in syrup.

    Ms. Katie puts another set of breakfast in front of me, almost the same as before. There are four sausage links this time. I refill the small bowl for the syrup and start eating. As it turns out, the sausage links also taste better when dipped in the syrup, though they tasted good even without that.

    The second serving of breakfast filled me up a lot more, so I excuse myself once I finish and go to the room I was assigned to wait half an hour. I don''t like being up here because it''s the second floor but I haven''t brushed my teeth yet and the dentist says I should always wait at least half an hour after eating to brush my teeth. By waiting up here, I won''t have to stop something else in order to go brush my teeth.

    Though I''m still worried. What if the floor breaks and I fall through? It wouldn''t surprise me if the universe did that to punish me and-bloop!

    What? Where did that noise come from? I hear the bloop again and realize that it came from my pocket so I reach in and pull out the phone that Mr. Caldwell gave me. It bloops again as a notification pops up on the screen.

    That''s not any of the notification sounds I remember it having. I didn''t change it because I''m not sure I''m allowed to but I know that it has a lot of different¡­ ones¡­ it''s the dork.

    I check the messages to see what he''s messaging me about. The question of how he got this number is on my mind but I''m pretty sure I won''t understand his answer. Then there''s the fact that his number is already set as a contact as well.

    Ninja were probably involved. I''m fairly certain the dork is one and that he''s part of a big group of them in the area, as much as he denies it. Even if the lie-detection ability of mine says he''s being honest, I doubt it. He can probably fool it.

    Fluffy Dog Master: Do you know where the silverpeer wrench is?

    Fluffy Dog Master: Found it.

    Fluffy Dog Master: Do you think bradlra or srielmol is a better rune for making things catch on fire?

    He must have come across a very fluffy dog recently and now I want pictures of it but I''m hesitant to ask. The dork always sends me pictures if I ask but it feels wrong to ask. I decide to ask, but I first need to answer his questions. Or well, just the one since it seems he found the wrench within three seconds of asking me.

    The dork likes to issue random quizzes like this. They sometimes only have one question but sometimes have more than fifty. Usually, he only does the latter when we''re face-to-face. I''m sometimes right and sometimes wrong. Better than my grades in school, though, where I''m usually wrong no matter how hard I try to study.

    This is a really tricky question for me. If I remember correctly, both runes have specific situations they''re good for catching things on fire in but also situations they''re bad at catching things on fire in. Whatever they are¡­ I can''t remember so I make a guess and text it to him and hope that I''m right.

    Xander: Srielmol?

    Xander: Kann I git a pikchir uf the fluffy dog pleez?

    A moment later, a picture pops up in the text conversation. It''s of a really fluffy dog that''s sitting on the retaining wall at the Wolf''s Dragon. It''s an absolutely massive dog, it''s probably as tall as I am while sitting down. That kind of scares me but I''m glad I''m not there in-person. It might think I''m food and then try to eat me before realizing I don''t taste very good.

    The dork was probably on the way to his workshop/lab as the restaurant isn''t open and I''m not sure he even knows of its existence. More than likely, he thinks the parking lot is just for people to hang out in. He may not have even known of its existence until he saw the dog despite the fact that I think he has to go by there to reach his lab from his home.

    I don''t receive another message from the dork until I''m brushing my teeth, so I wait until I''ve finished and have put everything away to check it even though a second bloop quickly followed the first. It''s a message and a picture.

    Fluffy Dog Master: Srielmol turned out to be unoptimal. There may be room for improvement. Will alter the rune connections and try again. Will update on further progress.

    The picture is of¡­ a watermelon on fire. It''s nearly a whole watermelon, apart from what''s burned off and the runes that were etched into its rind. It''s sitting on a tree stump in a forest, and I recognize the stump as something at his workshop which confirms he was on his way there when he saw the super fluffy dog.

    "Oh, right," I mumble.

    He wouldn''t have asked me if I knew the location of the silverpeer wrench if he wasn''t at the workshop. Stupid me, not remembering something so simple and obvious. Why do I have to be so stupid? Instead of dwelling on that, I send the dork another text. He doesn''t mind me texting him with questions. Not even when they''re really weird ones, but I try not to bother him too much.

    Xander: Hauw minny watirmellins did yu bi?

    Fluffy Dog Master: The store only had 47 left.

    In other words, he bought forty-seven watermelons. I''m not sure how rich the dork is but he''s always had plenty of money. Back in April, he even managed to buy a very expensive bomb. It was apparently easier than trying to buy zramanio powder directly which I find really weird. Why would an expensive and restricted bomb be easier to buy than one of the powders that helps give it its boom?

    That confused me too much so I decided to not ask.

    For a few moments, I contemplate asking the dork if he''ll be okay with me coming to hang out with him at his workshop. That hope for a time without being too scared of anything other than his dorkishness and experiments is quickly squashed, however.

    One of the rules I was given is that I have to tell Mr. Caldwell where I go if I go somewhere. Based on what''s happened since I moved into his house on Friday, he''ll want to visit the place as well. The dork doesn''t exactly stay completely legal and Mr. Caldwell would definitely notice it. Then he''d call the police and have the dork and me arrested and I''d never get to hang out with the dork again. I''d even end up in prison where they give even worse punishments than just beatings to bad boys. They''d probably electrocute me a lot. And keep me tied down.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    That starts making me panic, my breathing becoming short and difficult and tears welling up in my mind. Fortunately, I manage to realize it before my thoughts become all jumbled up, so I''m able to try and manage it a little and focus on something else.

    I put the phone away and go downstairs, then out to the back yard to find a tree to sit under. Today, I sit under one of the peach trees to see if this spot feels comfortable. It at least smells good on top of being a little bit cooler due to the shade.

    The dork occasionally sends me a new picture and an update on his experiment and I realize after the fourth one that he''s actually sending me videos, not pictures. While the videos actually start before the runic formula the dork etched onto the watermelons ignite, the preview shows me a point halfway through them.

    I watch the videos up until I notice Mr. Caldwell approaching with a laptop, then I quickly close them and pocket the phone. Mr. Caldwell smiles at me for a moment for some reason.

    "Mind if I sit next to you?"

    Why does he ask instead of just doing? I don''t want him to but I can''t say that or he''ll get mad.

    "G-go ahead."

    Mr. Caldwell sits beside me and opens up his laptop, then shows me something on it. It''s a list with a bunch of names on it, but they aren''t the names of people. Some of them are probably companies while others are locations, like a school and a hospital.

    "There was a pretty nasty tornado in another area a little bit ago," he tells me. "We''re holding a charity event next Friday to try and help raise funds for it. That should give them time to get estimates on damages, find out more about what''s happened and what is needed, and get volunteers down there to help work with the recovery groups. The way the benefit works is we''ll host a dinner and people will pay to attend. All money that doesn''t go to paying for the food, the venue, and so on will go to relief efforts. We''ll also raffle off some items like gift bags and the money that wasn''t spent to pay for them will go towards the relief efforts as well. While there, we''ll also be asking people to donate money as well or send support. Some might donate one grand, some might donate ten grand, others might donate fifty grand. It depends on the person, how much money they have, and how generous they''re feeling. Most people won''t donate and will only go there to socialize, while many will donate one grand just so they can say they helped out and plenty will do it for the tax benefits. You look a little confused. What''s up?"

    "Leaves and branches."

    "I meant that as ''what''s confusing you''," Mr. Caldwell clarifies.

    Why am I so stupid? That''s probably something other boys my age knew already. I hate myself!

    "Um¡­ I''m sorry I wasn''t listening very well, I didn''t hear what they were donating. They''re donating a grand what?"

    "No, you heard me fine," Mr. Caldwell says. "In this context, ''one grand'' means ''one thousand dollars''. So that''s one thousand, ten thousand, and fifty thousand, respectively."

    Oh. Now I feel even stupider. Why can''t I be smart? I''m so fucking awful!

    "Some of the donations," Mr. Caldwell says. "Will go to specific groups while others will go as general relief efforts. Some people will donate clothes, others food, others water, other medical supplies. Some construction companies will offer their services for a discount or even free if they can afford it to help rebuild the devastated town.

    "Xander," he says. "What I want to do is donate to a specific cause, and I''ve narrowed it down to a few of them. Some are for specific efforts while others are just groups. Since you''re my son now, I want to know your thoughts on which one I should donate to."

    I''m not really his son, I''m just his foster son. My opinion doesn''t matter and wouldn''t even if I wasn''t worthless.

    "This is money I''ll be putting forth immediately," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Not something I''m waiting for the benefit to send down. Can you tell me if there''s anything on this list that you''d like to donate for?"

    I''m really unsure about this but Mr. Caldwell wants me to so I try to look at the list. He explains what some of the groups are when I don''t understand. Some of the potential donations aren''t for groups or businesses, either, but purchases of items to send down.

    "Where are they all sleeping?" I brave asking. "The people whose homes were destroyed, I mean. Or, um¡­ where will they be sleeping?"

    He said it only just happened a little bit ago, so they probably haven''t gone to sleep yet.

    "Various places," Mr. Caldwell says. "Some will be staying at a friend''s or family member''s whose home survived or wasn''t in the area. Others might rent a hotel room. Emergency camps will be set up in places like rec centers, community centers, and the like if they survived. Schools as well since it''s summer. Sleeping bags will be provided if any are available. Most of them will have insurance that helps to cover the costs of getting a place to stay like an apartment or hotel, while others will receive help from the federal emergency service for this. That might take a little time, though."

    "So they stay at the emergency shelter setups until they can get another?"

    "Correct," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "Do they have enough sleeping bags?"

    "Do you think I should buy some and send them down there?" Mr. Caldwell asks and I give him a nervous nod. "Anything else?"

    "Um¡­ and pillows," I say. "So they can put their head on something soft when they sleep. And blankets. And maybe stuffed animals for the kids. And, um¡­ sorry."

    I''m telling him how to spend his money. Bad, Xander! Bad!

    "Don''t be sorry," Mr. Caldwell asks. "I asked what you thought. So you think they might need extra stuff for the people sleeping in the emergency camps?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Then we''ll do that. I''ll check into some hygiene stuff as well. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, deodorant, and the like. Did anything else on the list catch your eye?"

    "Um¡­ the children''s hospital and middle school were both destroyed?"

    "That''s what it looks like," Mr. Caldwell says. "No confirmation yet but it''s very likely based on what I heard. They do know the high school is safe and are setting up something in their gym and cafeteria. Once the vehicles can get down there, there will also be some set up that people can sleep in temporarily, sort of like mobile mini-hotels. Some of them will also be mobile medical centers."

    "The dog shelters were okay?" I ask.

    "I didn''t see anything about animal shelters," Mr. Caldwell says. "But it will also take time for them to learn the full damages. The hospital and school are guesses based on their locations in the path and significance in the area meaning it''s easier to check."

    Dog shelters are significant. They want loving homes but were mostly abandoned or abused. If they don''t have a place to go, then they''ll just end up on the streets or dead. Maybe on the street and dead.

    "I hope the dog shelters are okay."

    Especially since if they were destroyed, then the dogs inside might have been killed, too. That would be really, really, really bad.

    "We can hope," Mr. Caldwell says.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "It''s eight-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday during summer," Parker, my best friend in the entire world, complains as soon as he answers the phone. "Why''d you wake me up, Lucas?"

    "I want to go by Luke now," I tell him. "And there was a mega tornado. Not here, somewhere else. It did a lot of severe damage and ruined a lot of things so I''m going to go down and help with some of the efforts, probably at a food place. I''ve already talked to Mom and she''s contacting some people and getting a large order of food prepared. It should be ready to go down tomorrow but maybe tonight. Helping out will help with the credit for school of course but I also just want to help because of how many people are going to need food and they probably won''t have enough volunteers. I''ll be going down with the food though Mom''s going to stay here. Trey Caldwell''s organizing a benefit dinner next Friday so that there can be more details available though I think Mom said that he was planning on sending some aid down now as well and-"

    "I am too tired for this," Parker complains. "Please take a breath no less frequently than once every five words."

    "I''ll try to remember that," I tell him. "Anyway, I was thinking that I could donate some of my clothes since I have so many of them and it''s not like I wear all of them frequently since I don''t change my outfits multiple times during the day. Then I realized I don''t really like any of my clothes recently and that''s probably why I kept looking at clothes on the island. I did buy some new shirts there, by the way. Oh! And I bought you one, too. It''s ugly, you''ll like it."

    "Weren''t you getting back on Friday?"

    "There was an emergency at Mom''s work so we came back early," I say. "We got back last night and the tornado happened around four-thirty this morning. I mean, I could have stayed at the island until Friday but I decided to come back early so I could learn more about the business. I haven''t actually gone to bed yet. But back to the clothes, after realizing I didn''t like any of my current outfits I decided that I''d just donate all of the clothes I don''t like anymore. Before I can do that, though, I need to replace them all. So I was wondering if you''d go to the store with me to let me know if something''s ugly or not. What do you think?"

    Parker is silent for a few very long moments.

    "There better be coffee when I get there."

    "Do you want a lot of coffee or a small bit of coffee and do you want it your usual sweetening or-"

    "Just get a pot ready and I''ll sugar it up."

    "Alright what kind of roast-"

    "Be there in fifteen," Parker ends the call.

    Awesome. Parker would be really upset if I didn''t take him clothes shopping with me. What kind of outfit should I wear, though? I really don''t like any of the ones I have right now, though I suppose a simple set of just a pair of black pants and a white button-up shirt would work. But that would make me look too formal so I think I''ll go with a pink one. Should I go with a dark pink, a bold pink, or a light pink? Black pants are too formal for that, too. Khakis are the way to go.

    This might still be too formal for going clothes shopping, though. Making choices is hard, especially now that I''m not really sure about much.

    "Which shirt do you think I should wear?" I hold both shirts up for Parker to see. "I was going to go with the bolder pink but I think that''s too bold while the lighter pink isn''t that bright but might not mix well with the khakis."

    "I left home twenty minutes ago and you still haven''t gotten dressed," Parker says before taking a sip of his coffee, which has caramel and chocolate sauce drizzled over whipped cream, which also had cinnamon sprinkled on it. He now has a mustache of whipped cream, which he licks off before speaking again. "It''s a good thing I texted your dad and let him know I was on my way."

    "Has it really been that long?" I ask. "Sorry. I underestimated how much time had passed. I''ve apparently reached a point where I can end up even faster than I could before and am still adjusting to it. By the way, did you do something new with your hair? It looks good."

    Parker has brown hair and blue eyes, and something about his hair does look different. With summer here, he''s also developed a light tan from spending time out in the sun. I''ve developed a much deeper and more golden tan thanks to the time I spent out in the sun on the island my parents and I just got back from. It makes my electric blue eyes and platinum-blond hair stand out even more, though.

    Hm. Parker''s dressed in silvery shorts and a blue sleeveless shirt, along with grey-and-blue sneakers. He doesn''t look sweaty, though, so he must not have ridden his bike over. We''re next-door neighbors but the properties are large and have a fair bit of space between them so he usually either bikes over or gets a ride.

    That''s not why it took him so long to get here, though. He had to wake up, brush his teeth, get changed, then work up the energy to come over.

    "Did your dad bring you over?" I ask.

    "There''s cloud cover and it''s a bit windy so it''s cooler outside right now," Parker tells me. "I still biked over. Needed the movement to wake me up more so I''d be prepared for hanging out with you. And¡­ no, I didn''t do anything with my hair. It''s probably just a little messed up from the wind but still short enough it''s not too noticeable, though I think my golden highlights are more visible now."

    "Oh, yeah, now you mention it I can see that," I say. "I think I''ll go with the green shirt. Should I swap to shorts or still wear the pants? If I swap to shorts, it might be better to switch to a polo or a short-sleeved shirt."

    "Green wasn''t even one of the options?" Parker mutters in mild confusion.

    "Yeah, but I realized that I''m not feeling like wearing pink today."

    Parker groans and I slip on a pair of khakis before pulling on the shirt I ended up picking and buttoning it up, then I pull on my belt and slip my feet into some shoes.

    "Alright," I say. "Let''s go! The car should be ready. Xavier apparently got a new car while I was on vacation so it''s going to be our first time riding in it."

    "Hold on," Parker says. "Reign in your magic. You''re sparking."

    "I am?" I look down at my body to try and see the sparks.

    Me sparking is an actual concern we have, especially when I start to get a little bit hyper. It''s not that I lack control over my magic but that I have so much capacity that it can sometimes manifest on its own if I''m anywhere near full. That''s an issue all powerful mages have.

    "It''s always your hair, you dolt," Parker snorts.

    "Oh, right!"

    I reach up and start brushing my hair, feeling the light shocks of my magic. It''s actual sparks and not some metaphor or comparison ¨C I have a high affinity for lightning magics, something I inherited from both of my parents. Their affinities aren''t as high as mine but their bloodlines combining resulted in me having a pretty high one. That''s not how it always goes and I could have just as easily been born with almost no magical affinity but I''m kind of glad that didn''t happen. I mean, I can tank lightning bolts and if I really wanted to, I could even eat them.

    As I fix my hair, I also use my control over my magic to rein it back in and stop the sparks. Once I stop feeling them tickling my hands, I nod to Parker and we leave my room to meet my driver downstairs.

    "Bye, Dad!" I wave to my dad, who''s doing something in the kitchen. "Parker and I are going to go get me some new clothes! I''m going to donate my old ones to the relief efforts so that some of the boys who lost their clothes can have new ones. We''ll be back by lunch."

    "Which probably means dinner," Dad mutters.

    "Bye!"

    During the ride to the store, I start telling Parker about my vacation and all of the stuff that happened on the islands. Since he seems interested, I continue even as we try on clothes, though I do take breaks to let him know the outfit clashed. Hot pink with neon blue? Eugh! Jeez. Parker should never go clothes shopping alone, he has no sense of style. Pink and blue can go together but it needs to be the right shades.

    "Thanks," Parker says.

    "You''re welcome," I tell him as I return to looking through the clothes. "And then while we were at the beach, I met this girl named Gina. She''s our age. And we were hanging out and even went to get lunch together because our parents were talking about some business thing that bored us and we were hungry, then she was talking to me and at one point got mad because I wasn''t contributing much to the conversation-"

    "That''s a shocker."

    "Right?" I shake my head at him so he knows that shirt is a bad idea. Whoever designed it should be shocked with lightning five or six tens. "But it was mostly because I had zero clue what she was talking about so I was trying to find a way to contribute to a topic I didn''t know. I mean, how am I supposed to know anything about math-based transmutation? It sounds like some esoteric form of magic ¨C I looked it up and it''s even worse than that, it doesn''t even work most of the time because transmutation isn''t putting numbers together ¨C and that''s not really my field of magic. Lightning is. Ask me any question about lightning magic and I''ll probably even beat a master. Put me on a game show, I''ll zap them out of the water! Which isn''t really something I should ever do, but it was kind of an accident."

    "Always is," Parker holds up a shirt and I nod.

    "Yeah," I say. "So anyway, Gina switched to talking about baseball so I tried looking up stuff on my phone about baseball so that I could contribute to that conversation and she got mad at me for being on my phone! I couldn''t win with her, it was annoying. What made it worse was that she was on her phone all the time, too. Double standards, am I right? Like, seriously girl? You''re going to tell me off for being on my phone so that I could look up stuff so that I could contribute to the conversation but simultaneously be on your phone texted every thirty seconds? Puh-lease! Get a life!"

    "Must have been real frustrating."

    "It was," I say. "I didn''t like hanging out with her very much. You can''t just go all hypocritical on someone like that. At least I was making an effort to participate. Parker, I don''t like any of the clothes here."

    "We can try another store," he tells me. "Just let me try these on first to see if they fit and if I like them."

    "Okay," I say. "Gina was a twin, by the way, and she had a brother. He was more boring than her but I still liked hanging out with him. All he really care about was playing basketball or beach volleyball or going swimming. Magic didn''t interest him at all and he didn''t get mad at me for looking up stuff about basketball so that I could try to engage with him. But it was still really boring. Not sure why I liked hanging out with him more since I actually liked talking about magic with Gina. That was really weird and confusing."

    "I can imagine," Parker says, then his tone shifts. "Going to go try these on now."

    "Let me see how they look!"

    After Parker decides all of the clothes he picked out fit him and look nice on him, he pays for his stuff and we leave, meeting my driver at the car. Parker''s purchases are loaded into the trunk, then we''re off to the next store.

    I really hope I can find some clothes that I like, I want to be comfortable with myself again.

 Chapter 008

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    The house is relatively quiet when I get home, the TV in the living room turned low while my parents watch it. Most of the lights are turned off for once with only a lamp in the living room on, my parents probably wanting some ''alone time'' even though they get it fairly often. Dishes are piled up in the sink, so after removing my shoes I get started on those.

    "Could you be a little quieter?" Mom asks as I put the bowl and spoon from the strainer into their appropriate storage places. "We''re trying to watch something in here. Should have started on that earlier."

    Started on it earlier? Judging by the state of the dishes, they only finished using them no more than an hour ago. In fact, I''m fairly certain some of them were in use half an hour ago.

    "There were no dirty dishes in the sink when I left at seven-thirty this morning," I say. "And I just got home two minutes ago."

    "Oh," she says. "Well, your dad and I are trying to watch something, please be quieter."

    Ignoring her, I start moving the dishes out of the sink and onto the counter beside it. Then I clean out the sink before I get started on actually washing the dishes. This isn''t really a ''quiet'' task I can do so I just handle it the same way I normally do. It''s not as if it''s all that late in the first place and they would reprimand me if I tried doing this closer to bedtime when their ''alone time'' has lasted for a few hours.

    Upon finishing the dishes, I head to my room and grab some fresh clothes, then take a quick shower before returning to my room and booting up my computer. I pull on my headset and plug it in, then sign into my computer. Some blankets have been hung up on my walls to help dampen sound but I still have to be careful not to get too loud.

    "Hey, guys," I say once I''ve logged into the game lobby and joined the voice chat for my usual group. "How''s it going?"

    My avatar waves to the group, which consists of a female elf archer, a male druid healer, a female half-giant martial artist, and now me, a male fairy wizard. Curiously, there''s a human knight standing close by to us. That wouldn''t be out of the ordinary if he was closer in level to us than he is as we sometimes do have other people join our party for quests and bosses.

    Whoever this player is, they''re definitely new and there''s no voice chat icon above their head. With this game, everyone can talk in a private voice chat ¨C such as what my party typically does ¨C a guild voice chat, or the general voice chat. We can also switch between the three freely or temporarily talk in one while staying in another ¨C such as us staying in the private chat but letting people in the general hear us. The general only works for those whose avatars are near yours, so it''s not like it''s broadcast to everyone. It''s a local general chat, not a global one.

    Since this new player ¨C who is literally Level 1 still ¨C doesn''t have a voice chat icon, they''re probably talking via text messages. Their username is [DemonMuffin], which is weird.

    "Not bad," Sarah, the elf archer, responds to my question. "We''re not sure what''s going on with the new player, he''s been standing there for awhile. We tried talking to him via voice and his character jolted a little. I think we startled the actual person."

    "Happens sometimes," Grace, the half-giant martial artist, says. "He didn''t respond to our messages."

    The avatar for the new player starts moving, taking a few steps in random directions.

    DemonMuffin: there we go damn keyboard

    Then they walk off. All four of us start laughing. It was apparently just an issue they were having with their keyboard.

    I''m willing to bet they were freaking out by the team of high-level players just hanging out where they were, wondering if we were planning on following them out and killing them or something. We don''t do that sort of thing but I know there are some players that do ¨C we dealt with that back when we were all new. Those players are now KoS (kill on sight) for us.

    "How''s your computer?" Jack, the druid, asks once we stop.

    "Almost have enough to get the new graphics card," I answer. "Got paid a lot for helping a friend''s dad build a new deck and was paid twice what I charge for taking a dog out and playing with it for a couple of days, so pretty decent progress. Am hoping for enough before this one goes kaput."

    "Good luck," he says. "Going for a new model?"

    "Nah," I say. "Those are too expensive. The one I''m looking at only costs five hundred as it''s a little bit of an older model, but it''s still pretty powerful. Could get it now, but I don''t want to spend everything."

    I''m putting aside half of everything I earn as general savings and I do also spend money on other things as well. If I didn''t do that, I''d be able to afford upgrading my computer faster.

    "How much you got left?" Jack asks.

    "Sixty-three dollars," I answer. "So I should be able to get it by the end of the month, assuming everything goes well and money doesn''t ''vanish'' again."

    "Didn''t you ever find out what happened?" Grace asks.

    "Nah," I say. "I probably accidentally dropped it out of my room and my parents just thought it was theirs."

    They don''t intentionally take my stuff so they wouldn''t have taken it if it was in my room. The best I can think of really is that I must have accidentally brought it out of my room and dropped it without realizing.

    "That sucks," she says.

    "Really does," Jack says.

    "Happier thoughts," I say. "We''re taking on that beast today, right?"

    "Heck yeah!"

    We check our inventories and gear to make sure that we''re ready to take it on, then leave the town we logged in at and make our way to a dungeon to battle a boss that gave us trouble last week. Most of our play time since then has been to improve our gear and Levels so that we can try and fight it again.

    For the next couple of hours, we fight some monsters and complete a couple of quests, then Jack has to log for the night since his parents are telling him to go to bed. We all agree to meet up Monday night for some more fun here, then log off.

    I head out to the kitchen and get myself a glass of water before I return to my room, then browse the net ¨C headphones off since I''m not in a voice chat with three other people who get extremely loud. The music I put on won''t disturb my parents since it''s not too loud. At about eleven-thirty, I go out to refill my water and find that my parents have gone to bed. Since I''m nowhere near tired enough for that, I''ll probably game a bit more.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts around the same time as Sig''s PoV

    Mr. Caldwell comes into view as he approaches me and I start worrying again. This probably isn''t allowed, either.

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "I-I''m sorry!"

    "What are you doing?"

    "I-I''ll go do this in my room, I''m sorry!"

    "You''re not in trouble, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I was just wondering why you were spread out in the living room."

    I''m currently lying on the living room floor. The carpet in here is really soft and plush as well and even better, it''s not on the second floor. A good spot to think with the light rain going on outside preventing me from sitting under a tree. Well, not literally preventing me from going out there, but I''d probably get yelled at and beaten if I tried sitting out there and then came in soaking wet and dripping water everywhere. That makes it less a literal prevention and more of a¡­ a¡­ some other kind of prevention. My stupid brain doesn''t remember the word.

    So the living room it is. Because of the rain, not my stupidity.

    "I was thinking," I tell Mr. Caldwell.

    "Would have expected you to be playing video games or watching TV."

    "But I didn''t get permission."

    "If you''re not grounded," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "And you don''t have other stuff you''re supposed to be doing, then you''re allowed to play video games, watch TV, or whatever."

    That doesn''t sound right, and I really don''t want to ask permission every time. A bad boy like me shouldn''t be allowed to play video games whenever he wants. Asking every time I want to play will also probably just get me into trouble.

    "Want to share what you were thinking about?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Cinnamon rolls."

    "What about them?" He sits down beside me. "I take it you''re thinking about what we had for breakfast?"

    "They weren''t good," I say. "But they were better than what we normally have at the home. I know some of the other boys like cinnamon rolls. So I was thinking¡­ maybe I could spend some of my money on getting the ingredients so Ms. Johnson can make them like that instead of using the stuff from a can or in the big bulk packages from the store. But there were a lot of recipes and it made my head all confused."

    It''s been awhile since I did anything with the money I''ve been saving up and I shouldn''t be allowed to have good food if the other boys can''t as well. I''m not worthy of good stuff.

    "You wanted to spend your savings on something for the boys at the home?"

    "They should have good stuff."

    "How many boys does the home have?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "It can have up to thirty," I answer. "But including me, it had twenty-two before you took me. There are also five staff members."

    "The home receives money from the state each month per boy," Mr. Caldwell. "To help them run things. They also have private donors as well who help pay for things. One of the things about food is that it can take awhile to make, especially if you have a lot of people. They probably buy in bulk to help cut down on cooking times. Making cinnamon rolls actually takes a lot of effort and that''s time the staff could spend doing other things to help run the place. It''s not like throwing pasta into a pot and sauce into a pan and letting it cook. You have to measure mix, let the dough rise, knead and roll, mix the filling and spread it in, let it rise some more¡­ then there are all the dishes it uses up."

    "They have two dishwashers," I say. "And two ovens. And a huuuuuuge fridge. Two of them. Plus a huge freezer. They also have two deep freezers. I think that''s what they''re called? They open up from the top and you put things into them for longer storage and they''re a lot colder. Don''t hide in them, you might end up in the hospital. There''s also a huge food closet. No entering allowed except when helping prepare meals."

    Mr. Caldwell is quiet for a few moments. That makes me nervous. I spoke too much, didn''t I? Apologizing is probably best but that would just be speaking more. What do I do?

    "Unlike me," Mr. Caldwell says. "They can''t afford a full-time chef, and unlike most normal homes, they don''t really have too much time to devote to working on cooking. That''s why they buy in bulk, as I said ¨C it makes things easier. It''s not that they''re hurting for money, it''s that they don''t have the time needed to devote to cooking."

    "They aren''t?" I ask. "But Ms. Johnson always tries to buy my clothes from used clothes shops. Isn''t that because they can''t afford new clothes for us? I guess it''s because I''m bad and don''t deserve new things. I forgot about that."

    "Well," Mr. Caldwell says. "Considering how difficult it was to get you to accept just the two sets of clothes I tried to buy you on Friday, she probably does it because it''s easier to get you to accept them."

    I don''t know what that means.

    "One of the donors," Mr. Caldwell says. "Sends them one hundred dollars per boy every three months to buy new clothes for them. That''s enough to buy a few new pieces, which is typically good enough for a normal child. I''m also fairly certain they spend it that way ¨C one hundred dollars per boy at maximum from each donation, with anything leftover set aside for future clothes purchases for that same boy."

    "Ms. Johnson spends less than thirty."

    "I think she only tells you that," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Either that, or most of it gets saved up through the year and then goes into getting you some good-quality winter gear since you go outside so much."

    I want to ask why he thinks that, but questioning other people is always bad and gets me a beating.

    "We got a little bit off topic there," Mr. Caldwell says. "Back to the food subject. The home could probably afford to buy the ingredients to make more complex foods rather than bulk-buying easy-make foods, but the problem for them is time. They also likely wouldn''t be able to do it for every meal even if they had the time since while they receive enough money to buy food, they don''t receive too significant of sums and still want to buy treats for the boys, such as occasional pizza parties or celebrating a boy''s birthday."

    I guess that makes sense.

    "They likely buy the bulk and canned cinnamon rolls because it''s faster and easier," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "But you think the boys there should get to eat ones from scratch, too?"

    "I got to. That means they should be able to."

    "How often do they go grocery shopping?"

    "Ms. Johnson and one of the other staff members usually go on Thursdays," I answer. "They usually take one or two of the better-behaved boys with them. For some reason, that almost always included me even though I''m always bad. The fridges and freezers are probably mostly empty right now."

    Mr. Caldwell gets up and walks away, and I go back to thinking about what the cost might be for buying all of the ingredients. Now Mr. Caldwell has my head all confused as well and I''m not sure if the staff there would make them. If he''s right and they don''t have enough time, then they''d just have all of the ingredients sitting around for awhile.

    A few minutes later, Mr. Caldwell comes back over to me.

    "Xander," he says and I look at him. "What time does everyone have to be in bed?"

    "Usually by ten," I answer. "Even in summer, though Ms. Johnson and the other staff members usually go to bed later, especially if at least one of the boys isn''t home but will be returning that night, like me on Tuesdays."

    "Alright," he says. "Then we should have enough time. Go get your shoes on."

    He''s taking me back? I know I''m scared a lot here, but I don''t want to go back! The bed is comfier here and the food is tastier! He didn''t tell me to get my clothes, either, which means he wants to send me back without them. At least there are still some at the home, Ms. Johnson told me not to pack them all because they wouldn''t fit into the bag.

    "C-Can I grab Trenton?"

    "Go ahead," Mr. Caldwell answers. "If you want to grab your backpack, you can."

    That''s better. I go up to the room he was letting me stay in and pack my backpack as full of my old clothes as I can without removing any of the other stuff I normally keep inside apart from Trenton, who I carry with me. Then I locate my shoes and pull them on before following Mr. Caldwell to the SUV. Ms. Katie is waiting there for us, and she sits in the front passenger seat once Mr. Caldwell unlocks the car.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I do my best not to cry on the way there but I can feel tears forming in my eyes anyway. Then I get confused because I think I misremembered the route we took from the home to Mr. Caldwell''s house. This doesn''t match what I remember. Why''s he pulling into a grocery store parking lot?

    "This won''t be a regular thing," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "But we''ll prepare some cinnamon rolls for the boys at the home, okay? Katie says that we can prepare them now, bring them over to the home, and they can keep them in the fridge overnight and cook them in the morning."

    Now I''m even more confused. Stupid piece of shit worthless fucking brain.

    "This way," Mr. Caldwell continues. "They can have the cinnamon rolls, too. And don''t worry about paying for it, Xander. I''ll cover the cost. However, you have to agree to help Ms. Katie prepare them by following the directions she gives you, okay?"

    I''m still really confused but I nod to agree. Why would they want me to help? I''ll just mess everything up and ruin the whole batch.

    "As I said," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I won''t do this too often, but we can call it a thanks for taking care of you these last few years. You can also do stuff like this on your own if Ms. Katie agrees to help you prepare it and you pay for it, okay?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    It''s better to just go with this situation because it''s making my brain even more messed up and confused trying to think about what''s going on.

    Mr. Caldwell, Ms. Katie, and I get out of the car and go into the store. I leave my backpack behind since I''m not being sent back yet, but I do still take Trenton with me, holding him tightly against my chest. This situation is too confusing for me and I need some comfort and he can provide a little bit of it.

    Inside the store, Ms. Katie leads the way and our first stop is the baking dishes supply aisle, but they each grabbed a cart when we entered for some reason. Ms. Katie selects eight baking pans that cinnamon rolls can be made in, all the same type. They have some at the home that they sometimes make casseroles in, and I think I understand about it taking awhile. Not just the baking part, but even preparing the casseroles always took them awhile on the occasions they made them themselves.

    Then we go to the baking aisle in the food stuff and Ms. Katie lets Mr. Caldwell know the bigger stuff that''s needed so he can grab it off the shelf for her. Rich people do heavy lifting at grocery stores? That''s news to me. Mostly, Ms. Katie grabs the items off of the shelves. While picking out the ingredients, Ms. Katie tells me what part of the cinnamon roll they go to. The flour and sugar for the dough, sugar for the filling, cinnamon for the filling, vanilla extract for the dough, powdered sugar for the icing, and stuff like that. She seems to be grabbing a lot more than I expected.

    The refrigerator section is next and a few more items are grabbed from there, then we go to the registers to pay. A lot of milk and orange juice was grabbed, as were some packages of sausage links and a lot of extra eggs. That confuses me because where does it all go into the rolls? I didn''t know orange juice was an ingredient and I didn''t taste it or any sausage links in them this morning. Or syrup, either. Nor the berries that were grabbed from the produce section on the way to the registers.

    They seemed to grab a bunch of extra ingredients that I can''t figure out how to go into the cinnamon rolls. When were nuts grabbed, and why are there different varieties? There seem to be more things here than I remember seeing get added to the carts.

    Is Ms. Katie also doing a little extra shopping or stuff not related to the cinnamon rolls? That would make sense, since it would bundle up time. I''m fairly certain white chocolate isn''t an ingredient for cinnamon rolls.

    Mr. Caldwell pays for it all with one of his cards, then we return to the SUV and the purchases are loaded up into the trunk before we finally return to his house. After taking off my shoes once we''ve brought the groceries and pans inside, I put my backpack back in the room I''m staying in before joining Ms. Katie in the kitchen since I have to help her make it even though I''m just going to mess everything up.

    When I enter the kitchen, I find a stool by the main preparation counter. I don''t remember ever seeing that before. The stool, I mean. Where did it come from?

    "Xander," Ms. Katie says. "Are you okay with standing on the stool to help?"

    No, but I have to help and I''m too short to really do it without a stool. If I break my arm falling again, Mr. Caldwell will probably be really mad and send me back. I don''t get why he doesn''t just send my worthless ass back to the home already.

    I step up onto the stool, then set Trenton down on the counter close by but not in the way.

    "See all these glass bowls?" Ms. Katie asks. "When I have you measure something out, put it into one of those. I''ll tell you what to measure."

    Ms. Katie walks me through each measurement, including how to know which one is which. The first batch of dough takes us a little while to prepare, and then it has to rise for more than an hour, so we get started on the second batch. Each new batch, Ms. Katie explains to me which measuring spoon or cup to use including the shorter version of their name on the measuring spoons.

    That makes it a lot easier for me to measure, though I still think I mess it up. I try to make things as level as possible like she tells me to but it doesn''t always come out that way. At least she doesn''t seem to notice since she doesn''t comment when she grabs the bowl that I dumped it into.

    Preparing all of the batches of dough takes awhile, then Ms. Katie has me measure out ingredients for the filling while she prepares the dough. Apparently, each batch was actually a double batch because she splits the dough into two halves and spreads each one out separately.

    "Take this baster," Ms. Katie tells me. "And spread that butter on each, but leave about a one-inch border from the top edge without any butter, okay? Don''t worry about being precise, it doesn''t have to be exactly one inch and can be a little bit off. Do go all the way to the other three edges, though. It shouldn''t be a thick coating, just enough of the butter to cover it. If you''re not sure about one inch, think of it as the width of two fingers. Maybe three for you. Either one works, alright?"

    I nod and do my best to follow her instructions, though I do have to move the stool for each one. Ms. Katie mixes the ingredients for the filling while I do that, then she splits the filling into two bowls and has me spread one of them onto the butter of one of the dough batches. After that, she shows me how to roll the dough with hers, then she takes a fancy-looking tool and starts chopping the rolls.

    She calls it a dough scraper, but she uses it for cutting the rolled dough. That confuses me. Ms. Katie has me brush more butter into two of the baking dishes, and she puts the cut dough rolls into them. The rolls are only cut into eight pieces, and each dish receives only each. Another thing that confuses me is why she only does eight in each dish with plenty of space between instead of packing them all into the same one.

    "The reason I''m putting eight into each dish," Ms. Katie tells me. "Is because the rolls will rise a little bit more. That''s why we didn''t roll them tightly ¨C so that the middles will expand to the sides instead of upwards. If we rolled it too tightly, then the middles wouldn''t find themselves able to move to the sides too easily and would instead rise up, creating a mountain-like peak instead, okay?"

    "Okay."

    The two dishes are covered in plastic wrap, then moved into the fridge and Ms. Katie pulls out another bowl of rising dough and we repeat the same process. They have a really big fridge here as well. Also really big bowls. Ms. Katie had to remove some of the shelves from the fridge to fit the bowls, but they were also large mixing bowls, too.

    At some point while we''re working, Mr. Caldwell comes to watch us for a few minutes, and that makes me nervous. Then he asks if I''m okay with him taking pictures and a video of me working on the phone he gave me so that I have them later. He also asks if I''m okay with him taking a picture and video on his phone.

    Either one of those scares me but I don''t know what he''ll do if I say ''no''. Probably say that we can''t take this stuff over to the home and I don''t want that. It would be a waste of money and then he''d beat me for wasting money. So I agree and give him the phone he gave me, then return to working.

    I don''t see Mr. Caldwell taking pictures or recordings even though I keep looking over. He was probably lying and just wanting to go through the phone. I bet he''s already figured out my password. I should have looked in his eyes when he asked me. I can''t focus on that too much, though, because I don''t want to mess up on this so I give up on trying to see what he''s doing with the phone and focus on following Ms. Katie''s directions.

    Unlike the first two batches, the third and fourth batches have nuts put into their filling. Those four dishes are also covered with a plastic wrap that has a slight blue tint to it, which Ms. Katie says is so that it''s easy to know which ones have the nuts in them and which ones don''t, instead of needing to inspect the rolls more closely to try and see.

    Washing dishes is dangerous for me, so I mostly just move the stuff from the counter over as best I can while Ms. Katie rinses them off and puts them into the dishwasher. Since we used the same dishes for the same things, Ms. Katie said it was okay to reuse them while doing this baking thing.

    "There''s a little bit more time," Ms. Katie tells me after checking her phone. "Trey said we should show up after the boys go to bed so that it''s a surprise waiting for them in the morning. If we take them over now, the boys will probably still be awake. Do you want to learn how to bake something else?"

    "Um¡­ what?" I ask.

    "Cookies!" She answers.

    "Cookies?"

    "Yep," she says. "I know you don''t like chocolate-chip, but Trey said you liked the white chocolate macadamia nut ones so much that you ate the whole plate! Want to learn how to make those?"

    "For the boys?"

    Ms. Katie looks past me for a few moments, then looks at me.

    "Sure, we can make some to bring over when we take the cinnamon rolls over," Katie tells me. "We have plenty of ingredients to make a batch of six dozen, too. Do you know how many are in six dozen?"

    Math. I hate math! But I need to do my best so that I don''t get into trouble.

    "Um¡­ six¡­ dozen is twelve¡­ sixty-two?"

    "Want to tell me how you got that number?"

    Not really.

    "Six times ten plus two."

    "Okay," she says. "It''s six times ten plus six times two. You have to multiply both parts."

    "Oh," I feel my face heat up. "Right. Sorry."

    "It''s okay," she smiles. "So this batch will make roughly seventy-two cookies. Might make a little bit more, might make a little bit less. It''s really the same one I used for you, but tripled. This should let each of the boys get three if they want and there will even be extras. Come on, let''s move the stool back over a little, then let''s get started. You up for doing the measurements again?"

    "I-I''ll try."

    Ms. Katie nods, then I move the stool over and stand on it while she brings out more items. She also starts the stove preheating so that it''s ready for baking once we''re ready to bake. The cookies seem a lot easier than the cinnamon rolls are and Ms. Katie even lets me try a piece of white chocolate that she breaks off so I can taste it by itself.

    When we finish, Ms. Katie loads the dishwasher with the dishes as best she can, then starts it and has me clean the counter. Then I''m sent to get ready to leave while she does¡­ something. No one tells me what so I don''t know. The cookies are ready to pull out of the oven by the time I return to the kitchen and while I don''t help pull the trays out of the oven, I do get to help move the cookies from the pans to the cooling racks that Ms. Katie set out. She holds the cookie sheets while I use the spatula to remove the cookies.

    "It''s okay," Ms. Katie says when I ruin one. "That can be one that you eat. The flavor''s the same, it''s just a little bent and broken."

    I don''t want to do this anymore but I don''t want to get into trouble for quitting, so I keep going. I ruin a few more cookies but Ms. Katie just says that it''s one I or she or Mr. Caldwell can eat each time that happens. Finally, all of the cookies are off of the trays and she sets the trays to the side to cool.

    "Always let them cool before putting water on them," she tells me. "Otherwise, it might warp the metal. Something similar for glass ¨C don''t put cold glass into hot water or an oven that''s on or it might shatter the glass. Okay?"

    I nod. How that can happen, I don''t know, but I''ll remember this just in case I need the information later. I''ll ask the dork next time I see him how that works. Or maybe I''ll ask him by text. He''s very smart, smarter than anyone else I know even if he''s a massive dork. If it''s true, then he''ll tell me.

    A security guard shows up carrying a fancy glass tray with a somewhat floral pattern to it, and he hands it to Ms. Katie, who then washes it as the guard leaves. Once she finishes washing the tray, she dries it off and sets it on the counter.

    "Move the stool over here," Ms. Katie indicates the tray. "It''s time to put the cookies on, they''ve cooled enough. I made the batch a little bit bigger than I initially said, so we have eighty-four cookies. If we account for each boy plus the staff at the home, that''s twenty-six people. Do you know what twenty-six times three is?"

    "Um¡­ sixty¡­ seventy¡­ seventy-six?"

    "Close," she says. "Seventy-eight. Twenty times three is sixty, and six times three is eighteen. Sixty plus eighteen is seventy-eight. Since we have eighty-four cookies, we''ll keep six for us and take the rest to the home. There are four bent or broken cookies, so we''ll keep those and two others. Let''s arrange the cookies in a pattern, okay?"

    Ms. Katie has me help her put the cookies on the platter, and once we''re done, it''s given a plastic wrap cover. I get to try one of the cookies that''s left, and it''s still warm. Warm and very soft and very delicious. At least, I think they are, but I probably don''t have the best of tastes.

    Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie both try a cookie, then they start taking the food out to the car. I''m given back the phone Mr. Caldwell is letting me use and the first thing I do is unlock it and send the dork a question about metal warping and glass breaking from temperature changes.

    There''s no response until we''re on our way to the boys'' home. Since there were so many dishes, Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie loaded them into the bed of the truck, and Ms. Katie is even coming with us. I still take Trenton with me because I''m still scared. What if no one likes the cookies and cinnamon rolls and hates them?

    Once my phone bloops, though, I stop thinking about that so that I can check the message.

    Fluffy Dog Master: Remember how wood grows when wet and shrinks when drying? And how it can split it if dries too fast?

    Fluffy Dog Master: Similar principle.

    Fluffy Dog Master: Going in simple terms, metal and glass both expand when hot and shrink when cold.

    Fluffy Dog Master: When the transition between the two states is too fast, metal gets confused about its state and changes inconsistently. That causes warping because the metal is sturdy enough to not break. Usually. It can still break.

    Fluffy Dog Master: For glass, it''s not as ''together''. Same reason it breaks when dropped. So when the temperature shift causes the size shift too fast, think of it like it suddenly being struck. The glass can''t keep up and it breaks.

    That''s probably not the full or proper explanation, but at least I can understand it. The dork wouldn''t give me blatantly wrong information, he just gives it to me in terms that actually makes sense to me. There''s definitely more involved, but at least I understand it now.

    Just to see if Mr. Caldwell took any pictures, I decide to check the album and find¡­ a lot of pictures and some videos. It looks like he waited until I stopped looking at him to start snapping shots and recording me. The pictures look good, even if I''m ugly. They feel¡­ natural? Rather than posed. Maybe that''s what he was going for, so that they didn''t look as stupid. Any picture with me in it looks stupid.

    I put the phone away and wait the rest of the ride to the home. It''s about ten-fifteen when we arrive, and Mr. Caldwell has me knock on the door while he and Ms. Katie go to the back of the truck. Mr. Evanson, one of the staff members, answers the door after about thirty seconds.

    "Hello, Xander," he says. "Ms. Johnson is on her way over."

    On her way over? Did they know we were coming?

    "Hey, Xander," Ms. Johnson comes out of the kitchen and approaches. "I was moving some stuff in the fridges so we could fit the rolls."

    They did know. But the dork said that no one here had psychic powers?

    "Mr. Caldwell called me earlier and asked," Ms. Johnson tells me. "He didn''t want it to be a surprise to us adults just in case there would be an issue. We had to wait until most of the boys went to bed before we could rearrange the fridge, though."

    I guess that makes sense. Why only most of the boys, though?

    "Oh."

    "Come on in," she says. "We''ll help carry the rest of the stuff in. Nick, come on."

    That''s when I notice Nick, who was putting on his sneakers when I knocked on the door. I enter the home and move off to the side as Ms. Johnson, Nick, and the other staff members go to help Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie. It''s better if I don''t help bring the stuff in as I would probably just drop everything.

    As it turns out, the extra milk and eggs, and the sausages, orange juice, berries, and syrup are to go with the cinnamon rolls tomorrow. They were also brought over with the casserole dishes of the rolls. Everything is organized into the fridge, then Ms. Katie talks to Ms. Johnson for a minute. Nick and Mr. Caldwell bring in some bags of additional things including some butter.

    "These are the directions," Ms. Katie tells Mr. Johnson while handing her some laminated papers. "This one here is just for preheating the oven and cooking the rolls. This one is for the icing, and this one is for the glaze. Neither takes very long to make, but do be careful if you make the icing as mixing too fast immediately will just kick up the powdered sugar."

    "We''ve had that happen before," Ms. Johnson tells her with a small laugh. "Pretty much every time we let the boys making icing or frosting and those ones haven''t done it before."

    "An easy mistake to make," Ms. Katie smiles. "The rolls with the blue wrap have nuts in them, Trey said you mentioned there weren''t any allergies but we still felt it best to make them more identifiable just in case."

    "Thanks," Mr. Johnson says as Nick waves to get my attention.

    "Can I get a fist bump?" He holds out a fist, and I look down at Trenton, who I''m currently holding with both arms. "How ''bout from Trenton?"

    I nod, then move closer so I can shift Trenton forward so that one of his paws taps Nick''s fist.

    "Come over here for a second," Nick beckons, and I follow him over to the couch in the living room, though we don''t sit down. "How do you like it there? Is Mr. Caldwell really rich?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "It''s a huge house. Really big. And they have peach trees out back. Mr. Caldwell said I can eat a peach from the trees whenever I want. They''re really good. They taste kind of like the ones we get from the food pantry."

    A local food pantry, a place that lets people come in to get food if they have lower incomes or are homeless or something like that, also donates food to various places. Every month, they donate a crate of food to the home. Fresh produce for us to snack on or to make salads with or stuff. During peach season, it includes peaches.

    "If it''s from the pantry over on North Maple," Mr. Caldwell says, and we both jump as we realize we were speaking loud enough for him to hear from where he was talking with one of the staff members. "Then that''s because they''re possibly the same peaches. Those trees grow too many of them for me and my staff alone so I send some to local food pantries. That part of my property used to be part of an orchard that went out of business, which is why there are so many fruit trees there and why they''re in rows."

    "Oh."

    Nick and I move a little bit further away.

    "How are you sleeping?" Nick glances at Mr. Caldwell. "Are you still having bad dreams?"

    "Yeah," I mumble. "I keep waking Mr. Caldwell up with the screams. I''m surprised he hasn''t sent me back yet."

    "Ms. Johnson probably warned him you''d scream at night," Nick tells me. "You had some really bad nightmares when you first moved in. Remember? None of us really got any sleep back then."

    "Sorry."

    "It''s okay," he says. "You weren''t the only one who sometimes woke people up with nightmares. I bet Mr. Caldwell would wear earplugs if it really bothered him. We all did, too."

    Yeah, but my screams were loud enough they could still hear me. Though I guess Mr. Caldwell''s room is a lot further away there than any of the rooms here are. He was probably hoping that I''d not wake him up without use of earplugs.

    "I bet all the food there is really good, right?"

    "Some of it," I say. "The cinnamon rolls weren''t. But they were better than the stuff here. That''s why I thought you all should get them."

    "Thanks," Nick says. "I was surprised when Mr. Evanson told me that they needed me for an extra chore after everyone went to bed. Pretty unusual, then they sprung on me about you bringing over cinnamon rolls from scratch. Didn''t mention cookies, though."

    "We didn''t plan on the cookies," I tell him. "Ms. Katie wanted to fill in the time before we could leave so that it would be a surprise. Ms. Johnson let you in on it?"

    "I''m good at keeping secrets," he grins, then glances at Mr. Caldwell. "Does he hurt you?"

    "Not yet."

    "Does he let you play games?"

    "There''s a big theater room," I tell him. "And an extra gaming room. I took pictures on the phone he gave me."

    I show Nick the pictures I took, though I admit I haven''t played anything yet.

    "Cool," he says. "Though it looks like the adults are done and ready to go. Have a good night, Xander."

    "Bye."

    "Bye!"

    I join Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie, then we leave.

    "Was that your roommate?" Mr. Caldwell asks as he drives us back to his house. "The one from here, I mean."

    "Yeah."

    "He seemed friendly."

    "He is."

    "If you want to hang out with him sometime, you can ask," Mr. Caldwell tells me.

    "He was just my roommate," I say. "We weren''t friends. He''s a grade above me."

    "Alright," he laughs a little. "Let''s get back home, then you can go to bed. You''re looking a bit sleepy."

    "Okay."

 Chapter 009

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander!" The banana exclaims. "Xander! Wake up!"

    Everything shifts and Mr. Caldwell is staring down at me.

    "Finally," he lets out a heavy breath. "It was another nightmare, Xander."

    "It was awful!" I cry. "The bananas tied me up using licorice and then they took ropes made out of grapes and started whipping me and every time they hit me with the whips, some of my skin and stuff came out and then the muffins and apricots would laugh at me and the gourds were eating the bits that were coming off and it was awful! I don''t want to be eaten by gourds!"

    "You''re not going to be eaten by gourds," Mr. Caldwell says. "I promise, Xander."

    "But they were already nomming my bits!" I cry. "I want my bits back!"

    "You''re all there, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "Take a sip of the water, Xander."

    I accept the water he''s pressing into my hands and take a few small sips of it, then he tells me to inhale deeply, so I do, then I exhale slowly like he tells me to. He has me do the deep breath thing twice before making me sip water again, and after the third round of me breathing the way he wants and taking sips of water, Mr. Caldwell tilts his head down and to the side a little, looking into my eyes.

    That''s scaring me. He''s mad at me for waking him up, isn''t he?

    "Do you remember what happened?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "No," I answer after attempting to remember what the dream was, or even what it is I told Mr. Caldwell. "But it was awful, Mr. Caldwell! I''m really scared!"

    "I know, buddy," he says. "I know you are. Do you want Katie and me to play some Go Fish with you until you fall asleep again?"

    "But then you won''t sleep," I mumble.

    It happened again. Every single night I''ve been at this house so far. Why won''t he just send me back to the home instead of continuing to put up with me and my stupid nightmares?

    "I''ll fall back asleep just fine," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I promise. Don''t worry about us. Come on, let''s play Go Fish."

    "Okay."

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "And that''s why you always feed the dragons first," I say. "Because if you don''t feed the dragons, they''ll more than likely try to eat you instead while you''re trying to feed the others. Erica was telling me that you should feed the griffins first because they''re more vain but I''m pretty sure that if you try to feed those first, then the dragons will eat you and the griffins. You because you ignored them and the griffins for claiming to be better than the dragons. Speaking of griffins, did you hear about how all of the ones within five hundred miles of here have been really well-behaved for the last four-ish years? What do you think is the cause of that?"

    "Luke," Parker says. "It''s five-thirty in the morning, I''ve been awake for three minutes, I haven''t had coffee yet, and all I could catch was something about dragons, griffins, and eating five hundred miles."

    Parker''s still dressed in his pajamas, but I managed to change while we were talking. He spent the night here last night since he decided to go down to the tornado site with me. My plan ended up getting changed to utilizing my magic to help with the rescue efforts while he''ll be helping out at the makeshift kitchens getting set up down there.

    Despite his weird addiction, Parker''s actually a pretty good cook, which probably comes from his family running a high-end catering business. That''s how we met, actually ¨C he was helping his family out at an event two years ago. I think he prefers smaller cooking things like for himself or a family, but he sometimes helps out at major cooking events as volunteer work to help those in need.

    I''m going down there to help out, but he''s doing it for the school credits. Students at the private school we attend aren''t required to do service work like some schools stupidly do, but we can get some bonuses for it. Parker really utilizes those credits while I never need to.

    "You''re thirteen," I say. "You shouldn''t be so dependent on coffee for waking up."

    "It''s only some days," Parker says. "What time are we leaving?"

    Seems like every morning we talk, he needs coffee. I might suggest to his parents that they cut down on his intake. Maybe suggest that to mine as well, though they might not be too helpful in breaking his addiction to coffee as they''ve developed one these last few years, too.

    "Just as soon as Mom finishes getting things ready," I answer. "You should hurry up and change. I think Dad''s making crepes for breakfast."

    "That''s not one of your new outfits," Parker realizes. "Isn''t that one of your old ones?"

    I''m currently wearing a pair of metallic grey shorts and a metallic blue sleeveless shirt. My current shoes are silver and grey with some blue bits.

    "Yeah," I show it off a little. "Not too much a fan of it, but Mom suggested I only bring down my lightning-proof clothes and we haven''t gotten any in my new style. This is my mobile lightning outfit, it gives me more room for movement rather than being more constricting. Plus, it breathes better. I''m going to go downstairs and see if it really is crepes, don''t forget to fix your hair after you change."

    I lightning-charge my body, which results in it taking on a faint, yellow-white glow as small sparks dance around me. Then I''m at my bedroom door and I open it before zapping myself to the stairs, then down the stairs, then through the halls until I reach the kitchen¡­ where a bolt of lightning slams into me with a pretty heavy boom. It only pushes me back a few feet but it still caught me almost off-guard.

    Hitting me with lightning was probably faster than trying to call out to me first or getting in my path and grabbing me. At least it doesn''t hurt! If I''d noticed it in time I''d have tried to catch it with my mouth, though Dad would probably whack me in the back of the head for doing that again.

    "No lightning-charging in the house," Dad says. "Especially when you have friends over."

    "You''re already making coffee," I say. "You shouldn''t support Parker''s addiction, he''s not even fourteen yet. Also, it''s probably not healthy for you, either. Are you making crepes for breakfast? I smell bacon. Are you making bacon to go with the crepes? I''d like a pound and a half, please. We do have enough, right? We went shopping yesterday so we should unless you and Mom ate it all."

    "You''ve really been craving crepes lately."

    "Yeah," I answer. "I tried making some for breakfast yesterday since you weren''t up yet but it was a complete disaster so I gave up. They did make for pretty good pancakes, though. The breakfast you made was even better."

    "Crepes won''t be as filling for you," Dad says. "And you need as much mana as you can generate since you''ll be helping with rescue efforts, which is why we made sure you were as full as possible before you went to bed, Lucas. Turn off your lightning-charged form."

    "Forgot I was in it, sorry!" I turn it off. "Guess I had a bit too much. Hey! Do you think I could zap myself down there? Would probably take me less than a minute. I''m not really as fast as lightning yet but I''m still pretty fast and-"

    "And you''ll burn through your mana," Dad says.

    "I can sustain it for hours, so it''s not like it''s really a problem," I say. "Hey, are those eggs? Can I help crack them?"

    "Out of the kitchen," Dad points. "You can wait. I''m cooking bacon and omelets for breakfast and we''ll be serving it with fruit. Make sure to eat until you''re stuffed, Lucas."

    "It''s Luke now, remember?" I ask.

    "Eat until you''re stuffed," Dad sets a plate with bacon and omelets on the peninsula counter.

    Even if we can eat a high amount of food due to our bodies converting it into energy, there''s still a limit and it''s based on how powerful we are as individuals. I can consume vastly more food than Parker can even though we''re both pretty strong mages. My "standard" recovery rate is also about as much mana as Parker can actually contain, but that''s because lightning magic requires an absurd amount. There are mages vastly more powerful than I am, too, and even ones who have vastly higher amounts of mana and vastly higher amounts of food they can consume.

    I start eating as I think about one of those mages. There''s an ancient and powerful bloodline of mages, supposedly the very first ones on Earth and whose original leader is still alive today despite being over a thousand years old. The patriarch being absolutely ancient is a known fact, but whether or not he was the first mage on Earth is questioned. It''s the family that owns the Lumaria Group, the most powerful collection of companies on all of Earth.

    They don''t really need to ingest a high amount of food as their ''standard'' mana recovery rate is already rather high despite a person''s standard being roughly a third of their maximum recovery rate. Supposedly, their patriarch''s standard recovery rate is even more mana than I can hold.

    Rumors that he''s actually the offspring of a dragon and a phoenix are quite abundant. Thinking about it now, he''s probably the reason the griffins within five hundred miles of here are all behaving recently. I''d say the chances are pretty high that they annoyed him and he decided to teach them all a lesson.

    Why it would be within five hundred miles of here, though? He lives about three hundred miles north of us.

    "How many plates has he already eaten?" Mom asks as she enters the kitchen.

    "He''s on his fourth," Dad answers. "Would you mind getting Parker''s coffee ready? Lucas has enough energy right now that his mind''s going a mile a moment so that poor boy has probably been subjected to confusion."

    Mom glances in the direction of the stairs, then nods. Parker''s on his way down.

    "It''s Luke now, remember?" I ask. "L-U-C-K. Wait, no, that''s luck. F-U-C-K. Wait, no, that''s f-"

    Two bolts of lightning zap me in the face.

    "Hey!" I protest. "What was that for?"

    At least I didn''t have my fork up close, it probably would have melted that and I''d have to get a new one and throw away whatever part of my breakfast the metal melted into. That''s never fun and I don''t like wasting food that tastes good.

    "No swearing, honey," Mom says.

    "Oh, right," I say. "I have news for you two. It''s really important news that probably changes everything so I hope you still love me after I reveal it but I ate the last of the chocolate muffins that Dad made yesterday."

    "Yes," Dad gives me a hard stare. "I saw you coming down this morning. Did you not notice that your mother and I were up?"

    "I wasn''t paying too much attention," I say. "I was just really hungry. Oh, also, I whipped up some icing to pour on them."

    "Probably an apt word," Mom says. "Good morning, Parker."

    "Good morning, Mrs. Gates," Parker greets my parents. "Good morning, Mr. Gates. Is that for me?"

    "Yes," Mom hands Parker the coffee she''d prepared while we were talking. "How''d you sleep?"

    "Quite well after Luke finally passed out," Parker answers. "He spent an hour telling me about I have absolutely no clue because I was too tired to actually pay attention."

    "Bananas and the benefits of putting them in smoothies."

    "That."

    "How did that last for an hour?" Dad asks.

    "If you put a banana-"

    "We don''t have an hour for that, honey," Mom ruffles my hair. "Finish your breakfast. Once you and Parker are done, it''s time to go meet the trucks."

    "Don''t speed up!" Dad exclaims.

    Parker takes about twenty minutes to eat breakfast, then Mom drives us to the location that has the five box trucks we''re taking down to the disaster site. Technically, other people are the ones driving the trucks down as Mom''s not going and Parker and I are too young to legally drive on the roads.

    Two of the trucks are filled with canned and boxed foods, two are refrigerated box trucks that have perishable foods in it, and the fifth truck was actually stocked by Trey Caldwell, a non-mage who managed to build up a powerful non-magic security tech company before he was even twenty-three despite starting as just a teen with no money to his name and no big inheritance or anything. Ever since then, he''s spent a lot of money donating to various good causes. If I remember correctly, Mom said he''s sending down hygiene supplies and sleep goods.

    Companies that don''t deal in magitech aren''t uncommon as magitech itself can be rather expensive due to the components required to make them. Most people only use normal tech, not magitech, as a result. The fact that Trey managed to essentially take over a significant portion of that well-established market in less than ten years is rather impressive.

    Our security tech is magitech, though, since we can afford it. Also because it''s a bit more durable and less prone to being fried if hit by an errant spark from me or my parents. Our security guards aren''t magic, but they also use it and some of them are even coming down with us. They''re coming to help guard the supplies we''re bringing down so that people don''t raid them.

    "Remember," Mom tells me. "The second refrigerated truck has hogs in it. We bought more this time since it''s a larger amount of damage than the earthquake last year and more people will probably be displaced. Parker''s agreed to help handle the food situation, so I''ll let him know about the hogs as well."

    Not living hogs. They''ve already been slaughtered and skinned and drained in preparation for transport to make it easier once we arrive. This will allow the cooking staff to just grab one and start cooking. We aren''t actually supplying the hogs, Mom spoke with a farmer she knows to acquire them and probably paid more than their normal value.

    A lot of rescue efforts don''t go this far, but we don''t like doing half-measures. If we''re providing food for people who have lost their homes in a disaster, then we make sure they can get some good food as well. I wouldn''t be surprised if some of the trucks that our security guys are driving have tents, tables, and chairs in them to set up stations so people can eat. They also won''t be checking IDs at the food stations to see if people really lost their homes or not, they''ll just let people show up and get a meal.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "And behave for the trip," Mom adds. "And try not to jabber their ears off, Lucas-"

    "It''s Luke!" I whine. "I''m rebranding!"

    "That requires you to be branded," Mom says. "Don''t jabber their ears off. Limit it to Parker, okay? He''s more tolerant than most and you might get asked to leave again."

    It wasn''t my fault they were annoying pricks at the earthquake site. Arrogant ones, too. "We''re older so we''re better so you have to do what we say because you don''t know what you''re doing" as if that was my first time rescuing people! They got pissy when I started explaining the principles behind the method I was using to rescue people, claimed I was a nuisance, and told me I had to leave. How was I supposed to know that them telling me I didn''t know what I was doing wasn''t an invitation to explain the process I was using?

    Adults can be really weird. Don''t say someone doesn''t know what they''re doing and then get mad at them for explaining what they''re doing to show that they do know.

    "See you when you return," Mom kisses me on the forehead. "Love you, sweetie."

    "Love you!" I kiss her on the cheek, then start rolling up the window.

    The drive to the site takes us about five hours and it''s extremely boring. Parker and I are in different trucks so we play around with our radios a bit to talk, but otherwise, there''s nothing else to do. I do try playing video games for a bit but the ones on my phone aren''t as fun as the ones on my computer back home.

    Upon arrival at the site we were told to head to, I immediately hop out and lightning-charge myself.

    "Gonna go see who''s in charge of searching!" I tell Parker. "See you later!"

    I zap off to look for the rescue teams. They''re always wearing orange vests with bright yellow bands with a white stripe in the center along with black "RESCUE MEMBER" on them. It''s to make them more visible among the debris and if one of them is found unconscious or wounded, lets whoever found them know they''re one of the rescuers.

    It doesn''t take me long to find the one who''s coordinating the actual searches himself, as he''s wearing a neon orange hard hat instead of a white one and his vest says "RESCUE COORDINATOR".

    "Hi!" I greet him. "I''m Lucas Gates, but you can call me Luke! I''d very much prefer that, especially since we just met which means you shouldn''t have any issues switching to it like my parents are! You should''ve been told I was coming down already. What areas have you guys already searched? I know it''s a huge one and efforts tend to be slow out of caution and care so it''s probably not much since it just happened yesterday and you guys probably didn''t even start searching until either yesterday afternoon or sometime this morning. I can take charge of an area that doesn''t have too much searching yet. I tend to be a lot faster and can find people a lot easier since I can sense their energy. Not their magical energy but the electricity within their bodies. Well, I can also sense mana but not well enough to detect ordinary people under rubble, that''s a whole different potato. If you want, I can shoot up lingering bolts into the sky to mark locations of people. Green if they''re completely safe, blue for if they''re alive but need medical attention, and red for if they need emergency medical assistance. Black if it''s a body. That way you know how urgent it is or if you need a body bag for that spot. Maybe several black bolts if there are several bodies. Yeah, I can do that."

    The rescue coordinator stares at me for a few moments. He''s probably a bit confused by a thirteen-year-old who''s glowing whitish-yellow and has sparks dancing across his body yet clothes that are unharmed by them.

    "Could you say that a little bit slower?" He asks. "And broken up into parts?"

    "Sure!"

    Once we manage to find the speed that works for us, he refers to a map, then looks at me.

    "How do you perform the rescues if they''re under debris?" He asks.

    "With magic, of course!" I answer. "Did that at an earthquake site last year up until the staff got annoyed that I knew what I was doing and told me I had to leave. It''s their own fault for saying I didn''t know what I was doing and thinking I wouldn''t try to explain it so that they''d know I did. I was just trying to show that I could. I''d like to get started on the rescuing. My friend Parker''s gonna be helping out with the food stuff so he can explain more if you need further explanations. Also, your vests will kind of get destroyed by my magic when I''m zapping around since the active form of this spell is a bit more dangerous. The clothes I''m wearing may look like ordinary moisture-wicking athletic clothes like you might see on a basketball player but they''re actually made from a special lightning-resistant fiber blend and treated with a special alchemical solution that uses lightning goo. The metallic look isn''t for aesthetics but is actually a result of the lightning treatment, though it does still look pretty good. Not my style anymore, so I''m going to see if I can get some that don''t have it. Also with their other parts matching my new style."

    "Alright," the rescue coordinator says. "Since you mentioned the ''lingering bolts'', I take it what you''ll do is look for them and then send up the bolts to mark their location so we can come rescue them?"

    "Sure!" I answer. "I can also obliterate the debris, turning it to barely ash as well! I''ve enough control that I can prevent it from harming the people below and can even use it to move metal! That''s a new trick, I only first started managing it a few weeks ago. Mom and Dad were pretty impressed, it took them until they were in their mid-twenties to manage it!"

    "Are you Lucas Gates?" A woman asks as she approaches.

    "Whoa! I''m famous! Though I prefer ''Luke'' these days!"

    "It''s best to just let him go," she tells the rescue coordinator. "From what I''ve heard, he will talk your ear off."

    "I''ve yet to remove any ears."

    "Other than that," she says. "He has a pretty good record for locating people and even helping them out from under rubble."

    "Alright," the rescue coordinator beckons for me to step over to the map. "We''re currently focused on this area right here, Luke. There are only so many people who can go through the debris so we''re doing our best to see if we can find out if anyone is underneath. If they are, we''ll get a team to come in and try to move the debris so we can get them out. Then a medical team will check them over after they''re brought out. The tornado happened early in the morning, so most people were home and asleep so we''re estimating it to be a pretty high count of people who are trapped, which is why we''re focusing on a residential area at the moment."

    Which makes sense. More people are likely to be trapped where the homes are than in an area that likely had very few people ¨C who were all no doubt awake at the time and so had a higher chance of knowing it was coming. They can''t just go in and move all of the debris on the ground since that takes forever so they''re probably using their eyes to try and spot anyone, then having another crew come through with scanners and infrared if they have them to try and see if they can detect people they missed. They may also just be calling out with their voices to see if they get a response. Despite it being ''debris'', it won''t be too hard to see at least part of a person as long as they aren''t in a basement or something. There''s only so much building that can be there.

    "So you want me over here, then?" I ask.

    "No," he says. "We don''t have high-tech scanners so we can only check so much and getting into basements takes time. If you''re able to actually sense people, you''d be good for doing that."

    "Oh, okay!" I say. "Then I''ll go do that! Radio them my color signals!"

    I zap myself over to the area they''re currently searching through and start at the beginning. They''ve managed to take care of a decent area already but it doesn''t hurt to check again, especially with a way of detecting people as good as mine.

    After the second neighborhood, I do sense someone still trapped. Seems like a single body, not visible in the rubble. Signals are low.

    Kneeling, I place my hand on a piece of rubble and send some sparks down toward the person. The sparks dance from item to item regardless of their conductivity until they eventually reach the person and give them a light zap. A shift in the person''s signals occurs at the light touch of my magic.

    "Can you hear me?" I ask.

    "Yes," the voice is raspy, dry. Also sounds like an old woman. "Help."

    "Don''t worry," I say. "I''ve got you. Inhale as deeply as you can, cover your mouth and pinch your nose if you''re able to, and keep your eyes close as much as possible. Going to get you out of there."

    I wait a few moments, then I place both hands on the debris and ''pulse'' electricity into it. Sparks burst up into the air, forming a sort of dome around me for a few moments before they fade. The debris and ground below me are vaporized, though I keep control over the metal by using my lightning to hold them, shifting the metal objects out of the way instead of letting them melt or fall. In my current form, I''m also able to perform a sort of hover, so I''m left in the same spot in the air I was in despite there being nothing below me now.

    It looks like the woman either fell into her basement or went into her basement. Something must have fallen onto her as I can spot damage to her left leg and back as the small bit of ash from the debris begins to drift down.

    A flick of my wrist sends more sparks out and they zap the dust out of existence. Based on her electrical signals and the damage I can see, it''s important she receives aid sooner rather than later.

    "There we go," I say as I point a hand up into the air. "Ma''am, emergency help is on the way."

    A bolt of crimson lightning shoots upwards, a beacon two hundred feet in height, which will last around ten minutes. Colored lightning is always weird for me to cast and I shake my hand a bit once I disconnect the spell from me. It feels weird.

    "I need to go look for other people who might be trapped," I tell her. "But rescuers are coming. Don''t try to move, they''ll get you taken care of once they get here. If you need someone to talk to, though, talk to the turtle."

    I point in front of her and some sparks shoot out, then turn into a turtle made of electricity that gives her a small wave.

    "Hi!" It greets her. "I''m a lightning turtle, but you can call me Zap!"

    "It¡­ talks."

    "He''s one of my familiars," I tell her. "He''ll keep you company until help arrives."

    He''s not actually a turtle, but he took on the form because we figure it''s less threatening than his real form. Children also like to play with them in their turtle forms while waiting for rescuers.

    I continue my search of this area, finding one more trapped person that was missed, before continuing on. Soon, I reach the section where rescuers are currently searching and assist their efforts. With me here, they''re able to find people a lot faster ¨C so fast, in fact, that they can''t actually keep up. That is why I shoot up the lingering bolts. At the very least, they''ll mark the locations down on their map so that they can check it out once the bolts are gone.

    The red bolts are explicitly so they know what to prioritize. Blue and green means the person may move from that location and try to see help ¨C I point in the direction of the main rescue camp for those people ¨C and black is just so that they know they''ll come across a body. I don''t like shooting up the black bolts. I don''t like encountering the bodies, either. Those disturb me and I don''t usually sleep very well at night for a few weeks after doing something like this.

    When I sense my mana getting low, I return to the rescue coordinator''s station and let him know I need to recover, then I head over to the food area before disabling my lightning-charge spell.

    "Jeez!" Parker jumps. "Don''t scare me like that, Luke!"

    He''s currently working the line serving food to people who have shown up for it, and I can see that one of the hogs has been cooked already.

    "You should get in line," the woman he''s serving says. "Don''t cut."

    "Not a word, Luke," Parker glares at me, then looks at her. "He''s one of the rescuers. Specifically, he''s the main one locating people trapped under rubble now that he''s here. He just spent the last three and a half hours in constant use of mana in order to locate people, has probably seen dozens of dead bodies judging by the number of black bolts we saw go up, and won''t be able to resume work helping rescue people until he''s refueled. He can cut all he wants. Luke, they have a spot for you over that way. Look for the food tent with a blue cover, that''s the main tent for feeding rescuers, which you''d know if you didn''t zap off to go look for people immediately after arriving."

    "Thanks, Parker!" I tell him, then locate the blue food tent.

    The "spot for me" Parker mentioned turns out to be an entire table ¨C and the cooks prepared an entire hog for me. Well, it''s not just a hog as there are fruits, veggies, grains, and other things to go with it. It seems they were well-advised about my appetite when I do this and started getting ready a little bit ago. When I consider the fact that they''re just now starting to finish the first batch of food for me, I can conclude that Parker must have given them an estimate on when I''d be returning. He''s an awesome friend.

    Time to fuel up, take a quick nap, then return to looking for more survivors.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Here you go, Mr. Caldwell."

    "Hm?" Mr. Caldwell looks at me. "Why are you giving me your phone?"

    "I''m returning it."

    "Why?"

    "Don''t worry, I''m not taking the clothes you bought me, either."

    "What are you talking about?"

    "Bye, Mr. Caldwell."

    I set the phone down since he didn''t take it, then turn around and leave, grabbing my suitcase on the way out of his office. It was sitting just a little outside of it since I didn''t bring it into the room with me.

    "Xander, wait," Mr. Caldwell hurries after me. "Where are you going? You''re all packed up? And your eyes are a bit red and puffy. You were crying? What''s wrong?"

    "I''m going back to the home."

    "Why?"

    "Because I don''t deserve this place."

    "Why do you think that?"

    "I''m nothing but a bad boy," I find myself sniffling as I try to avoid crying again. "All I do is mess up and break the rules and interrupt your sleep. You want someone who can be your son, not a pathetic waste of space like me. I''m sorry for taking up so much of your money, Mr. Caldwell. You can try Nick next. He''s a good kid. You don''t have to worry about him being a pathetic crybaby who screams at night and wakes you up. It''s okay. I know I''m not what you''re looking for and you don''t really want me. Goo-eep!"

    My suitcase suddenly stopped moving and that caused me to jerk back a little when I thought I was moving forward. When I look at my suitcase, I find that Mr. Caldwell has grabbed it.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "You''re returning yourself?"

    "Yeah."

    He sighs. I know he''s mad at me but it''s okay, I won''t be his problem anymore. I put a lot of thought into this and realized it''s for the best. I''m just a pathetic screw-up of a boy and he wants a son. All I do is wake him up at night, take up his money, and cause him problems. He''s better off with a proper boy, not a waste of space like me.

    "Do you want to go back to the home?"

    "I know you don''t want me," I say. "I''m just a failure. It''s okay to make mistakes. You''re new to having foster kids. You can''t have it the first time every time."

    He can beat me for being honest here. I don''t care. Get it over with and then I''m gone and he can get a good boy to be his son.

    "That''s not what I asked," Mr. Caldwell says. "Xander, why do you visit the dogs on Saturdays?"

    "Because they just want someone to love them," I say. "A permanent home they can live in. A family."

    "Isn''t it because you empathize with them?"

    "I don''t even know what that means," I say. "See? I''m stupid. Not worthy of being a son for anyone, ''specially not a rich man like you."

    "It means you know how they feel," Mr. Caldwell says. "You go to them because you want someone to love you, a permanent home to live in, a family. You know what they feel like. I won''t pretend to understand your situation, Xander. I grew up with loving parents, a permanent and stable home, and no real abuse ever. I never really knew what it meant to long for love.

    "However," he continues. "What I do know that is sometimes, it takes a little time to see how things work out when someone new enters into your life. That''s why they require eighteen months of living together before they allow an adoption in this state. You''re nearly thirteen, so you also have to adjust to this, just like me."

    Mr. Caldwell kneels and looks up into my eyes.

    "Xander," he says. "You''ve only been here a week. Ms. Johnson warned me that you might have nasty nightmares while you''re still adjusting to living here. Stress and even fear can cause them to worsen. Does it bother me? I''ll admit I''m not happy with waking up in the middle of night. Does that mean I don''t want you here? I am willing to put up with you waking me up at night if it means giving you enough time to feel comfortable enough that the nightmares fade, okay?"

    "Why bother?" I ask. "Isn''t it better to have someone who won''t cause problems and disturb your sleep? Just get a boy or girl who''s not a stupid piece of shit."

    Mr. Caldwell sighs, then looks at Trenton, who I''m holding with my left arm. He looks up into my eyes again.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I didn''t ask for a perfect child. That''s hopeless in the first place. Let me ask you this: do you think the reason you don''t deserve a dad like me is because you''re stupid and weak?"

    "I know it."

    "And you think that waking me up with your nightmares every night is a problem and it''s better off if you weren''t around?"

    "How else will you sleep?"

    "Come with me," Mr. Caldwell tells me.

    More than a little scared, I follow him upstairs. This fear grows even more when he leads me to his room. Then, he pulls his phone out of his pocket as he tells me to go into his room. Then he turns on a really loud noise that scares me and hurts even after I cover my ears.

    Mr. Caldwell sets his phone on a table in the hall, then enters his room and closes the door. Now I''m really scared. He must know that I hate loud noises and is going to use this to¡­ what?

    Mr. Caldwell flipped a switch beside the light switch and the sound just¡­ vanished. Carefully, I pull my hands away from my ears.

    "If I didn''t want you waking me up at night," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I would activate the soundproofing enchantment on my room. It creates a magical barrier that prevents sound from passing through in either direction. There''s one on your room as well but I had the switch removed specifically so that I could hear you if you were screaming in your sleep because I knew you''d turn it on every night if you knew about it and had the ability to. It only works if the door and windows are all closed.

    "Look in my eyes," Mr. Caldwell says, and I do. "I may not know much about being a dad, but I want to try, Xander. And to do that, that means being willing to sacrifice sleep if my son is having nightmares. You want a family, don''t you?"

    Maybe.

    "You''ve not yet been here a week," Mr. Caldwell says. "It''s going to take time for both of us to adjust to each other and see if we work out as father and son, okay? Could you try to give it a little bit more time? And if you really think there''s nothing good about you, Xander¡­ then you should know that you''re a very kind kid."

    "How could a waste of space like me be kind?"

    "The only person saying you''re a waste of space is you," Mr. Caldwell says. "You visit the dogs so that they can get some of the attention they want. That''s kind. You were concerned about the children''s hospital and the middle school. That''s kind. You were concerned about people having comfortable sleeping arrangements while displaced from their home. That''s kind. You were willing to give up money you''ve been carefully saving for years just so that the other boys from the home could have cinnamon rolls made from scratch. That''s kind and generous. You''re willing to leave here just so that my sleep isn''t disturbed. That''s kind.

    "You might see yourself as worthless and pathetic," Mr. Caldwell says. "But I see a boy with deep mental scars whose heart is kind. Yes, you may struggle with things, but don''t we all? So I''m going to ask, Xander, could you please give it a chance to see if you want me as your father? If you say ''no'', then I''ll even drive you back to the orphanage myself."

 Chapter 010

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Sig!" Isaac exclaims. "What are you doing?"

    I cackle a little as I pull the can of whipped cream away from Sam''s face, then I tilt my head back and spray some into my mouth.

    "Wait! Hey! You sprayed some on my face, too!"

    "I thought about stopping him," Connor says. "But decided it was too funny. I woke up while he was doing me."

    Connor''s already cleaned the whipped cream off of his face.

    "Aw," Sam pouts. "I was hoping you''d spray some into my mouth."

    "Oh! You''re awake!" I aim the can at his mouth and spray.

    "Where did you even get that?" Sam asks after he finishes eating the whipped cream. "We don''t have any."

    "I woke up early, went for a walk, saw a convenience store, decided I wanted some, and so bought some," I say. "Oh! By the way, your dad said to wake everyone up and tell you guys that if we wanted to get there before the parking lot started getting crowded, we should get dressed and ready to go. There are donuts. Mr. Thompson and Mr. Michaels arrived a minute ago. I think Mr. Michaels is the one who brought breakfast."

    Unlike the sleepyheads, I''m already dressed in shorts and a sleeveless, my sneakers already on my feet and laced up. As soon as I mention there are donuts, they all start scrambling to change out of their pajamas and into the clothes they''re going to wear to the zoo. I hurry out of the room and to the kitchen to grab myself a couple of donuts and a glass of orange juice.

    Once we''ve all eaten and are ready to go, we pile into the cars and leave. I''m riding with Connor and Mr. Thompson while Sam and Isaac are riding together with Mr. Richardson, with Mr. Michaels riding with them as well.

    The ride to the zoo feels like it takes forever ¨C forty-eight minutes by my check ¨C and when we finally arrive, the first thing the guys and I do after getting out of the cars is jump on each other''s backs. Sitting tight for almost fifty minutes is a little too much for us hyperactive selves to handle. After a few minutes of us horsing around, the dads corral us and lead us into the zoo.

    It''s a rather large zoo and I think it''s technically owned by the Lumaria Group. I know they participate in a lot of conservation efforts and one of the things this zoo does is help breed animals nearing extinction and release them back into their natural habitats. They don''t force the breeding, they let it happen if it happens. Those two things might not be related.

    What were conservation efforts, again?

    "They got a snow leopard!" I exclaim while we''re going through Big Cat Country. "They didn''t have that a last time we were here!"

    "Just got her in last week," a nearby employee says as she approaches. "We have two of them. That one''s Tanya, while Apollo is currently stalking in the back. You normally wouldn''t see them active in this heat but the enclosure utilizes magic to keep the temperature more to their liking."

    Meanwhile, zoo guests still have to deal with the heat, but that''s okay! I''d prefer that they put those funds towards making sure the animals are comfortable.

    "How can you tell them apart?" Sam asks.

    "The tails," the employee answers. "Tanya has three rings toward the tip while Apollo has four. If I couldn''t see her tail, I''d honestly not know which she was. I haven''t gotten to see her enough yet for that."

    "How long did it take to renovate the enclosure?" Isaac asks. "Wasn''t this, um¡­ were they pumbas before?"

    "Pumas," the employee corrects. "Those were in another spot, this one had tigers before. And the renovations were not very long ago. We expanded Big Cat Country and moved the tigers to a new enclosure that gives them a little bit more space. We could have put Tanya and Apollo over there, but it was easier to set up the environmental controls for them here due to some existing setups. Another part of the zoo is currently closed as they do more renovations; we''ve expanded outward a bit more and are adjusting the layout as needed."

    If they didn''t do that, then they''d have the animals all mixed up rather than in their ''themes''. I''m pretty sure magic gets used to help renovate since the plants are always fully-grown in the areas that are complete and the work is done rather fast. They''ll probably finish up in the next month or so and it will look like the place has always been set up that way. If I remember correctly, they''re receiving a bunch of animals from zoos that are shutting down.

    "That''s cool," Connor says. "How old are they?"

    "Apollo is four and Tanya is five," the employee answers.

    We ask her a bunch more questions, then ask if we can get a picture with her. The dads take the picture for us, then we move on to the next thing. The zoo is a pretty big place and it actually takes us most of the day to go through, even with us stopping for lunch.

    There are three cafes here as well as a bunch of food stands scattered about the zoo. We stop into the main cafe, which serves burgers, nachos, pretzels, and more. People can even order alcohol if they''re old enough. It''s the biggest of all of their restaurants and the only one with indoor seating.

    Unlike a lot of other businesses and locations, they place a heavy emphasis on recycling here. There are no lids or straws for the drinks and every part of the packaging for food is recyclable. A few different spots have bins set up for recycling, complete with signs that state which one to put the different bits of trash in. It''s pretty cool. Making sure to recycle is important and most places do set up recycling cans, but this zoo takes it to a whole other level ¨C they''ll even ban people for throwing actual trash in the recycling. I think.

    After lunch, we continue exploring the zoo and going to the various gift shops here. It''s not right to come here without buying at least a souvenir.

    Some people complain about the prices for things here at the zoo, but entry is completely free and they receive no money from the government. They make all of their money off of their shops and food and that money goes back into the zoo, whether it''s paying the employees, caring for the animals, keeping the place clean, or whatever else is needed to keep it tidy and functional.

    Which means I don''t complain about the higher prices, even if I do still spend fifteen dollars on a small snow leopard plushie and twenty on a t-shirt that has the face of a bear on it. This comes out of the fun fund savings I have, which is separate from my other savings or the money I''m saving up for the new graphics card or anything like that. On top of me buying those, Mr. Thompson buys everyone''s lunches, Mr. Michaels buys us all a wooden bracelet with animal designs on the beads, and Mr. Richardson buys us all baseball caps with our favorite animal from today''s visit on it (mine has a snow leopard).

    I buy everyone a container of fudge; there''s a deal going on of three-for-ten when they normally cost four dollars a container. It''s not a massive amount of fudge but I think it''s worth it. With there being seven of us, that means there are two containers leftover. I pick out a second flavor for myself and let Connor pick a second one for him.

    We''ll probably end up sharing them between the four of us boys anyway but I wanted him to choose. That turns out to be a mistake as he chooses the one with a mint topping and I hate mint toppings that go with chocolate.

    By the time we leave the zoo, the four of us boys are actually pretty exhausted. We wore ourselves out running around all day. I''m not sure about the others, but I definitely fall asleep on the ride back.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¨C starts during Sig''s

    "Do you want me to wait for you here?" Quinn asks after parking. "Or should I go over to the Wolf''s Dragon and wait for you there?"

    "I want to walk."

    Stupid fucking idiot. That''s not what he asked.

    "Alright," Quinn says. "I''ll wait here in case you change your mind, and I''ll drive over to the Wolf''s Dragon if you walk to meet you there. Let me know if you change your mind while walking or if you need me, okay?"

    "Okay."

    I leave the SUV and enter the pet shop, then make my way over to the adoption area. The employees let me into the dog space and I start petting the dogs as they''re brought out to me. As usual, some of the dogs are unfamiliar to me while others are ones I''ve seen before. Turtle is still here, too. Something is different about him today.

    "Why are you so sad?" I ask him. "What happened?"

    "A family took him in Monday," the nearby employee tells me. "But returned him on Wednesday because he was too hyper for them."

    "Really?" I ask Turtle. "You were just excited to have a home, weren''t you? You thought you''d gotten a family."

    "Woof."

    "Don''t worry," I tell him. "I''m sure you''ll find a family who''ll put up with you. I might have found one for me. I''m not sure yet. It''s really confusing and makes me scared instead of excited. But if you don''t find one by Christmas, then I''ll ask Santa to find you one for your present, okay? That''s gotta wait six months, though. I think it''s six months. Maybe if I saw him sooner¡­ but that doesn''t happen often."

    "The mall close by has a Santa year-round," the employee tells me.

    "I mean the real Santa," I say. "That one''s not even a messenger."

    "Er¡­ okay."

    At least this person didn''t try convincing me Santa''s not real. I hadn''t meant to say that about the mall Santa, not out loud. Other kids make fun of me if they find out I don''t deny his existence and adults tell me he''s not real.

    "I''m leaving now," I scratch Turtle behind the ears. "You behave, okay?"

    "Woof!"

    I leave and walk to the Wolf''s Dragon and find that the chalkboard that makes up the front of the counter has been changed. It''s been awhile since the last change to it. The new pattern resembles flowers but for some reason, there''s a drawing of a chicken in the center.

    "Welcome to the Wolf''s Dragon!" Cal greets me as he steps out from the room where they make the drinks. "Oh, hello, Xander! Do you want to eat inside today?"

    I freeze up at the question. That''s a new question. That''s not how the visits go. I come in, they ask me if it''s for here or to go, I say to go, order the cheesecake, pay, get the cheesecake, and leave. Last week was already stressful enough but now I have a new question to deal with! A change to what I''m used to. What do I do?

    "It''s a bit warm outside today," Cal tells me. "I''m sure the cheesecake isn''t that good once it''s warmed up a bit and we do have plenty of seats, you know. If you want to eat inside, it''s not a problem."

    I look at the tables. They have thirty-two of them but only one is in use, toward the back of the left branch of them, the one that runs along the front wall. It''s a pair of boys who are somewhere in their teens. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. Or I''m bad at judging and they''re even older than that. Both are blond. I see them here a lot when I come in.

    "O-okay," I tell Cal. "For here, please."

    "Excellent!" He says. "Come with me!"

    Cal grabs a menu and a roll of silverware, then leads me to the table that''s on the front wall and that backs up against the entry room. He sets down the menu and roll of silverware, then I take a seat.

    "Would you like a minute to check the menu?" Cal asks.

    I''m not really sure the protocol on this for eating in here if I already know what I want. The only reason we took longer last week was because Mr. Caldwell wanted to. Since they ask this, though, that probably means I''m supposed to wait.

    "Okay."

    At first, I try to pretend to be examining the menu because I think I''m supposed to do that, but then I start craving onion rings after seeing the picture of them on the menu. Then I start actually examining the menu to see what all they have. I don''t remember it from the visit last week.

    "Can I get you anything to drink?" Cal asks as he returns to my table.

    "Water, please," I say.

    "Alright," he says. "Would you like to place your order now?"

    "Yes, please."

    Cal stares at me for a few moments. Oh, fuck my stupid brain! That''s a case like ''mind if I ask'', isn''t it?

    "Um¡­ may I please get the red, white, and, blue cheesecake?"

    "Sure can," he tells me. "Would you like anything else?"

    "That will be all, please."

    "Okay," he says. "I''ll go get you that cheesecake."

    Cal leaves, then returns a couple of minutes later with a glass of water and a plate with a slice of cheesecake on it, complete with three slices of strawberries and a pink cream cheese drizzle on top.

    "When eating in here," Cal says. "You pay once you''re done eating."

    I screwed up! I tried handing him the money when he gave me the food but that''s apparently wrong!

    "It''s okay, little man," he says. "You''re not used to it and I''m sure that you''re used to restaurants that make you pay before you get your food. Sitting in at a place like this, you typically pay after you eat but before you leave."

    "O-oh."

    "Let me know if you need anything."

    Cal returns to the counter and I start eating my cheesecake. After a few minutes, Cal comes over with a glass with a milkshake, complete with whipped cream on top and a cherry on top of that. The milkshake is light green and has brown flecks in it.

    "They were making this milkshake," Cal tells me. "And accidentally goofed it up. It''s a mint-chocolate milkshake, and we didn''t want to just throw it away. Want it? It''s free."

    Free? But it''s chocolate.

    "No, thank you," I tell him. "I don''t like chocolate. Or whipped cream. Or the weird-colored cherries. It''s not the milkshake, it''s me. Sorry."

    I had to add that so that he doesn''t think I''m insulting them by turning down free food they''re offering. They''d probably think I just don''t like their food.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "Oh," Cal says. "Alright."

    Cal walks over to the other boys and offers them the milkshake. I lift my head up enough so I can see that, and the boys accept it and start sharing it between them. I return to eating my cheesecake slice, taking my time partly because it''s always big and partly because I want to enjoy the taste and not get sick.

    "Xander?" Cal returns. "They goofed up a peaches-and-bananas milkshake. Would you like it? It''s free if you do."

    I like peaches and bananas, and when I look at the milkshake he''s holding, there isn''t any whipped cream on it and there''s no strange cherry on top. The mistake must happen during the making of the drink part of the milkshake and they didn''t put on the whipped cream and cherry to finish it because they were going to offer it to me. Though why did they mess up two milkshakes? That seems weird.

    "O-okay."

    Cal sets the milkshake down and I resume eating my cheesecake. The milkshake tastes good, too, and I make sure to finish it before paying for the cheesecake. Just as Cal told me, I''m not charged for the milkshake. It does show up on the receipt, but it says "COMP" as payment. I''ve never seen that before.

    "Did you have a question?" Cal asks while I examine the receipt. "You look confused."

    "Um¡­ what does ''comp'' mean?"

    "Comp," he says. "Compensated. When a meal is comped, it means the restaurant ''paid'' for it and is typically used for when we messed up a customer''s order so that they know they don''t have to pay for it. We don''t have a button to say ''free'' so we hit that if we give something for free, too."

    "Oh. Thank you."

    "You''re welcome," he smiles at me. "What did you think of the milkshake?"

    "It was good."

    "Glad to hear that," he says. "Have a good day, Xander."

    "Bye."

    I leave, a little bit confused. Why was he glad to hear I liked the milkshake? They messed it up, the flavor should have been bad. Sure, they maybe could have used a little bit more peach and a little bit less banana, but I didn''t think it tasted bad. That''s really confusing. Shouldn''t they realize that me thinking it was good means my tastes are awful?

    So confused am I that I almost forget that Quinn was waiting for me in the parking lot. I only remember right before I exit the parking lot, but I manage to remember and locate the SUV he''s waiting for me in.

    "Is there anywhere else you want to go?" Quinn asks once I''ve buckled up. "Or should I take you back to the house?"

    "Back to the house, please."

    "Okay," Quinn begins driving. "Trey called me while you were in the pet store."

    Oh, no! How much trouble am I in? What did I do wrong? Did I forget chores again?

    "There was a situation at his work and he had to go in to take care of it," Quinn tells me. "And he probably won''t be back until later this evening. He said to let you know that you can ask Katie to make something for dinner when you''re hungry, or if you want to order something, just let her know and she''ll help you pick and place the order. He also said that if you do want to order something, don''t worry about the cost, the food budget can handle it."

    "Okay."

    Quinn drives me back to the house, then I go inside and head out the patio door for the back before finding a spot in the yard to relax until I get hungry. Then, I go inside and find Ms. Katie, who''s in the kitchen.

    "Hello, Xander," Ms. Katie says. "Do you want me to make you something for dinner? Or I can order something for you."

    Ordering something sounds kind of nice but I''m not sure if it''s really okay. Quinn and Ms. Katie both mentioned it, though, so maybe I won''t get into trouble if I do? Mr. Caldwell probably wants me to so that Ms. Katie can take a break from cooking. That''s probably why it''s been mentioned twice to me.

    "Order something? Um. Please?"

    "Sure," she says. "Any particular place you want to order from? Or type of food?"

    "Pizza?"

    "We can do pizza," she tells me. "Let''s look at the places."

    Ms. Katie opens up a drawer and pulls out some menus, then shows me them. They''re all for pizza places, and she even shows me a few places on a computer as well, ones she doesn''t have physical menus for. It takes almost half an hour for me to decide and I feel really awful for that, but Ms. Katie doesn''t say anything about me taking up so much time. She''ll probably tell Mr. Caldwell when he returns, though. I hope the punishment isn''t too painful.

    After the pizza arrives and I eat it, I discover that there''s a room here that has a bunch of thick mats taking up half of the floor. There''s only about three and a half feet of space between the mats and the walls, and wooden benches sit up against the walls as if giving space to let people watch. Some big, weird balls are sitting against the right-hand wall, and some training dummies are against the back wall.

    They look kind of funny. A weird skin color with a weird texture to it, and they''re missing their arms and legs. On top of that, their hair and eyes are the same weird color as the rest of the dummy''s body, though the stand and base are black. I think it''s supposed to be like a Caucasian person''s skin color, but couldn''t Mr. Caldwell afford ones that are a more proper skin tone rather than that one? It''s kind of creepy.

    Sitting against one of the walls is also a mini-fridge and a water cooler dispenser thingy. I''m not sure it''s actual name. A stand with cone-shaped paper cups in it is fixed to the side and a black trash can with a trash bag set up in it

    The room itself looks like it used to be two rooms, but with the diving wall taken out. The half the room without a carpet or mat for the floor reminds me of a gymnasium''s floor, and it also has benches against the walls of it. Some shelves have also been set up against one wall on that side of the room, with items like jump ropes, hula hoops, and small balls, among others.

    Strange. I don''t remember this room before. Maybe that''s just because of my stupid, worthless brain. The security guys probably use it to exercise a little, but I thought Franklin told me that they have a location off-site for the training.

    The room right across the half with the mats to it is also one I don''t remember. It has a desk against the left-hand wall, a dry-erase board set up on that wall and the wall at the front ¨C the one with the door ¨C and some beanbag chairs. A few cabinets are also set up in here. Corkboard strips run along all four walls, above the windows and the whiteboards. Taking up the center of the floor is a large, plush rug that feels really nice when I rub my face against it. The beanbag chairs are sitting on that.

    Adjacent that room and across from the gymnasium-like half of the longer room is one that''s set up like a science lab, complete with cabinets filled with the glass things they put the chemicals in. I can''t remember their names.

    I don''t remember this room, either. This is really confusing for me.

    Especially because I could have sworn these four rooms were empty and unused just three days ago. Maybe it''s a magic house? It probably is, there''s already magic all over the place. Hiding the real nature of it from my mage-sight probably isn''t that difficult.

    Well, it probably wasn''t meant to hide it from mine since I don''t think I''ve told anyone but the dork that I can see magic. They probably just wanted to hide it from anyone who could see magical energy.

    After wandering around the house for a bit, I return outside and sit under a tree. Mr. Caldwell comes out to me after he gets home. He''s carrying a laptop.

    "How was dinner?" Mr. Caldwell asks once he reaches me.

    "Good. We had pizza."

    "Katie told me," he nods. "Did you enjoy your day?"

    "It was okay."

    "How did your trip to the dogs and the Wolf''s Dragon go?"

    Did I do something wrong? Why is he asking me so many questions? What do I do? What did I do?

    "It was good," I say. "Turtle was sad, though. The kitchen messed up two milkshakes, too. At the Wolf''s Dragon, I mean. I ate inside today. I hope that''s okay. Cal offered me the first one free because it was messed up but it had chocolate in it and whipped cream and one of those weird cherries on top, so I declined. Then they messed up another. It was peaches and bananas and didn''t have whipped cream or a weird cherry, and it was also free because it was a mistake, like me."

    "You don''t like whipped cream or maraschino cherries?"

    "Is that their name?"

    "The ones that are often put on sundaes and milkshakes?"

    "Yeah."

    "Yes," Mr. Caldwell answers.

    "I don''t like them. They taste funny."

    "What about whipped cream?"

    "It has a weird texture."

    "I see," he says. "So if something had whipped cream but not the texture, you''d be okay with it?"

    "Is that possible?"

    "It definitely is," he tells me. "Katie sometimes makes a chocolate pie that uses whipped cream, but it doesn''t have the same texture. It''s a bit creamier, and yes, I know you don''t like chocolate. It was an example."

    "Oh," my face heats up. My face must have made it obvious I didn''t want that. Stupid me, assuming he was offering me some. "Sorry."

    "No need to be embarrassed, Xander," he says. "Did you like the banana and peaches milkshake?"

    "Yes," I answer.

    "But¡­?"

    "Huh?"

    "You looked like there was a ''but'' in there," he says. "Something was wrong with it?"

    "Oh," I think for a few moments. "Cal told me it was a mistake, but then he said he was glad I enjoyed it. It could have used less banana and more peach, but I still thought it tasted good. Isn''t that bad, not good?"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell looks like he chokes when he laughs for a moment. "Did you order a water to drink?"

    "Yes."

    "They don''t serve a banana-and-peach milkshake," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Cal probably had them make the first one just for you, and when you rejected it because of the chocolate, decided to go with fruit since you seem to like strawberries and blueberries."

    "But I didn''t order one," I say. "And he didn''t charge me for it."

    "Cal probably thought you could use something more than water," Mr. Caldwell explains. "You''ve been a regular customer for more than three years, he probably felt it was okay to let you have a free milkshake since you chose to eat inside by yourself for the first time. Think of it like a reward."

    "But¡­ I was looking in his eyes," I say. "And he was being honest. He said they were mistakes."

    "He may not have been fully honest," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I know you don''t like lying or liars, but one trick professional liars use is to use a touch of truth to make the lie seem more real. Cal probably wanted to give you a free milkshake, but suspected you''d reject it if it was just a free milkshake. He probably asked the kitchen to make it for you, but to mess it up so it would be easier to convince you that the milkshake was a mistake. That way, he could give you a free milkshake."

    "Oh."

    Now I''m not so sure I like Cal anymore. He doesn''t even know I can tell when people are lying and he fooled my ability to detect that sort of thing. I also don''t like people lying to me in the first place.

    "Don''t take it the wrong way," Mr. Caldwell says. "Sometimes, a lie is a good thing. In this case, it got you a delicious treat, didn''t it?"

    "Yeah."

    "Cal had good intentions," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "He knew you''d only order a water but that you probably wanted something else, and he chose to do it. I don''t know about the Wolf''s Dragon, but an employee who chooses to do something like that at many other restaurants would normally have pay for it as well since it wasn''t resulting from an error on their end. So Cal probably actually bought you the milkshake."

    Still¡­

    "Did you do anything else today?" Mr. Caldwell decides to change subjects.

    "I explored the house," I tell him. "Then came out here. Is your house magic?"

    "It''s enchanted for security and stuff," he tells me. "I showed you the soundproofing enchantment and the knock enchantment a couple of days ago."

    Apparently, if the soundproofing on a room is active, a chime sounds in the room if someone knocks on the door. I didn''t even think of something like that but it''s apparently standard for rooms with such enchantments, though there are other variations. That''s because an actual knock wouldn''t transmit noise through the barrier, so they need some sort of way to let the people inside know if someone is there.

    Mr. Caldwell''s phone making that loud noise apparently woke up a security guard who was napping and he came to investigate. At least he turned it off before Mr. Caldwell flipped the switch and turned off the soundproofing enchantment¡­ I don''t think I would have been okay if I had to listen to that noise again so soon.

    Enchantments like that wasn''t what I was meaning to ask, though.

    "Um¡­ I''m really sorry I wasn''t clear, I didn''t mean to confuse you."

    "What do you mean?"

    "I, um¡­ please don''t be mad at me! It was an accident! I was just being stupid!"

    "Xander, take some deep breaths," Mr. Caldwell says. "I don''t even know why you think I''m confused. I''m not mad at you. Just take some deep breaths, then try to explain better."

    I do as he says, though it''s hard.

    "I-I was meaning if the house was magic," I say. "Like¡­ shifting rooms."

    "Shifting rooms?" He asks. "You mean rooms that change what they are, or move around?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "As far as I''m aware, that''s only stuff for fiction," he tells me. "If we want to change what a room does, we''d have to renovate it."

    Which takes time. I guess it''s just me and my shitty memory. Those rooms must have always been there and I was just mixing them up with other rooms I saw. This house is huge, after all.

    "Did you do anything else while I was gone?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "No," I answer.

    "Alright," he says. "Do you remember me talking to you about the tornado on Wednesday?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "When does the stuff go down?"

    "It went down on Thursday," he tells me. "Arrived a little before noon. I was able to contact some manufacturers and buy stock directly from their warehouses, then arranged for it to go down with some other supplies that were going down then. Here."

    He opens up the laptop and shows me some pictures. They''re of sleeping bags and stuff, both in the back of a large box truck and as they''re being distributed. Some of the pictures are of food or other items that were sent down, some of the people working to distribute the supplies, people working to rescue people trapped under debris, and¡­

    "He''s all sparky."

    There''s a boy in some of the pictures. Well, there are lots of boys, but this one is different. This one has a sort of glow to him and there are actual sparks around his body, and his short hair is spiked up a little, possibly from the sparks. I see him mostly in pictures of the rescue efforts.

    "That''s Lucas Gates," Mr. Caldwell informs me. "Son of Melody and Tristan Gates, the current owners of Gatewood Energy. They run a magitech energy plant and are both powerful lightning mages. Lucas himself is quite talented with lightning magic as well ¨C he''s stronger than his parents and can even stand toe-to-toe with a weaker lightning elemental. He went down to help with some of the rescue efforts, but he''s on his way back up now. With his help, they were able to locate people much faster than they usually would have."

    "How come?"

    "His magic," Mr. Caldwell answers. "Did you know that everyone has a little bit of electricity in them?"

    "No."

    Now that I know that, I''m a little bit scared.

    "Yeah," he says. "Our brains use electrical pulses and it''s part of our nervous system. Lucas is able to sense electricity and is one of the very few lightning mages in the world who can sense small amounts of it. His parents both can as well, though he can sense even smaller amounts than them."

    "So¡­ he was sensing the people who were trapped?" I ask.

    "Correct," Mr. Caldwell answers. "Then he''d help free them. Combine those two together, and it made things a lot easier for rescuers who''d have to walk to every pile of debris and see if they could spot a person, then try to free them.

    "However," he continues. "It wears Lucas out. Lightning magic consumes an immense amount of mana and while that''s not a problem for him¡­ mages generally can''t keep using magic over extended periods of time. Lucas is also still a kid, so his magical stamina isn''t too great. The fact that he used it nonstop for three to four hours straight twice a day two days in a row is actually rather impressive, but the poor kid''s wiped out. No amount of food he eats will change that even if it converts into energy."

    That doesn''t sound very fun at all.

    "The kid tends to be a chatterbox," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "But he''s a pretty good kid at heart and means well. He also doesn''t do half-measures when he puts his mind to something, which is why he wore himself out these last couple of days trying to help rescue people instead of pacing himself more appropriately."

    "He needs lots of food to recover, right?" I ask. "Because he uses even more magic than I probably have? So he needs even more food than I do to fill up? Can we go to the store so I get him something? I''ve got money."

    "Remember how I said you have a really kind heart?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "That''s further proof of it, Xander. You immediately went to wanting to spend your savings to buy him something to help him recover. Don''t worry, his parents have that covered."

    "Oh."

    I feel stupid again. That should have been obvious. His parents would obviously be prepared to feed him after that, they''re probably used to it. They probably deal with that problem for themselves, too.

    "However," Mr. Caldwell says. "I did send Katie a text earlier asking her to do some shopping. She''s going to bake Lucas some stuff. He likes chocolate, so there''s going to be brownies and chocolate-chip cookies, but she''s also going to make him some lemon cookies, lemon cupcakes, and a lemon bundt cake. It''ll take him a few days to go through all of that, his parents do somewhat regulate his diet. Do you want to help her make some of this stuff? It''s not buying the treats for him, but it''s a way you can help if you want."

    "Yes," I answer.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Before you go in, I wanted to talk to you about something."

    What did I do wrong? Why can''t I stop screwing up?

    "Ms. Johnson told me that you have a fear of drowning," Mr. Caldwell tells me.

    "I''m sorry!"

    "What is there to be sorry about?"

    "Um¡­ I don''t know?" I answer. "I''m sorry I''m so stupid."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "A fear of drowning is okay, it''s not something unique to you. Plenty of people are scared of drowning. I wanted to ask if that''s why you avoid going near the pool out here."

    "O-oh. Yeah. I''m sorry."

    "There''s¡­ nothing to be sorry about, Xander."

    "Sorry."

    Mr. Caldwell sighs. I upset him, didn''t I?

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "If I hired someone to teach you how to swim, would you be willing to give it a try? Knowing how to swim, float, and tread water are all things that will reduce the chances of you drowning."

    "Not if someone holds my head under."

    "Why would someone-" Mr. Caldwell stops talking.

    I can feel him starting at me. I pull my knees up to my chest. I hadn''t meant to say that.

    "Your old foster family," he says. "They held your head under water?"

    I nod. It''s taking every ounce of my will to fight back the tears and panic that are slowly starting to form in me.

    "Xander," he says. "If someone tries to hold your head underwater here, my security guys will shoot them on the spot."

    I hold my knees even more tightly.

    "I know you''re scared," he says. "It''s okay to say you don''t want to learn how to swim, I just thought it might be something that can help you worry a little bit less about drowning. And the person I''d hire would be the swim coach from the school that Lucas attends. He''s a qualified swim instructor, knows first-aid for drowning, and that school heavily vets every single staff member to make sure they''re safe to be around kids. He''s a good guy. I even ran my own check on him when thinking about this just in case."

    Aren''t vets the people who are doctors for animals? Why do they matter for school staff?

    "If you want to give it a try, you can," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "If you don''t, then you don''t have to. He''ll take it slowly, too, so you won''t have to do something like jump in for your first lesson. I''ve already talked with him and he told me that he has a way to help you get used to the water.

    "Also," Mr. Caldwell adds. "If you don''t want to be alone with him, that''s fine. We can ask security to stand guard and shoot him if he tries anything funny."

    Not being scared of water would be nice, but I''m not sure how learning to swim would work for that since I''d need to be in the water.

    "C-Can I think about it?" I ask.

    "Sure."

 Chapter 011

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "I''m ugly. I''m stupid. I''m a worthless fucking piece of shit."

    What was the next part? It was¡­ at least three¡­ right, at least three good things. Stupid brain, can''t even remember something I''ve done several days in a row. I hate myself.

    "I managed not to get yelled at yesterday," I say. "I managed not to get beaten yesterday. I managed to not break anything yesterday."

    There. Three things. I''m not sure I can think of a fourth so I''ll stick to three.

    With this routine out of the way, I make my way downstairs and to the dining room for breakfast. Mr. Caldwell is already sitting at his usual spot, so I sit at the spot I usually sit at. For some reason, Mr. Caldwell wanted me down here for breakfast at 6:45 today rather than ''whenever you come down for it''. Since I usually wake up at five in the morning already, all it really meant was that I got out of bed and changed and did that stuff earlier instead of continuing to stay in the bed in the hopes of falling back asleep again for another half an hour to an hour.

    Ms. Katie serves crepes with jam filling, strawberry slices on top, and powdered sugar dusted over them. Sausage links are served on the side along with scrambled eggs. I really don''t want to eat the eggs but they were served so I have to. The way Ms. Katie makes them is definitely different than how I''ve had eggs before but I still don''t really like them. Eggs taste funny

    At least I get to have five crepes and ten sausage links. Also a peach from the trees as well as milk and orange juice.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says after I finish eating and Ms. Katie clears our dishes.

    "Am I in trouble?"

    "Did you do anything to get into trouble?"

    "Um¡­ I can''t remember?"

    "Something I''ve noticed over the last week and a half," he says. "Is that you call yourself stupid a lot. I''ve seen your school records, and you do have some pretty bad grades."

    "I''m sorry I''m so stupid," I say. "I try studying!"

    It''s not just in school, too. I don''t know stuff that it''s clear I should know, like metaphors and smiles. I think that''s what they''re called, anyway. The comparative things that aren''t actually the things.

    "Hold on, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I visited the home and asked Ms. Johnson if they kept copies of homework and tests that got sent back with the students. It seems they keep all of them, so I asked to look at some of yours, then spoke with Ms. Johnson a bit. Do you avoid asking for help when you''re stuck because you don''t want people mad at you?"

    Yes, but I don''t want to admit that. He''s just going to call me stupid. Instead of answering, I stare at the table because I don''t know what to do or say. If a punishment is coming anyway, I might as well earn it for not answering. This is scary.

    "Judging by your grades," Mr. Caldwell says. "And your assignments, your teachers were passing you just so they don''t have to deal with you anymore. That was wrong of them. They should have tried helping you and that''s a failure on them. That''s not your fault, Xander, that''s a failure on the schools you went to.

    "Remember how I offered to ask the swim teacher from Lucas''s school to teach you swimming if you wanted?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "I can ask another teacher from his school to help you study during the summer. It would be for about an hour and a half each morning, only on weekdays. Sort of like classes in school. The first week would be some tests so that he can see where you are and what you need help with, then after that, it would be classes to help you catch up. The whole reason he''d be here would be so that you can learn and ask questions, so you don''t have to worry about him getting mad at you for it."

    Why would he go to all that effort for a waste of space like me?

    "Do you want that, Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "He''d be here just to help you catch up on some of what you''re not good with and to help you prepare for the eighth grade. You''d be free to ask him and any all questions that you want. And again, I can make sure you two aren''t alone if that makes you uncomfortable."

    As much as I want to turn this down because I don''t want him spending all that money and effort on me when it''s just going to be wasted and I''m not worth it¡­ this might be my only chance to get help. Refusing might be really bad for me, too. I don''t want to know what the punishment would be if I said ''no''.

    "Okay."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Why don''t you go do whatever it is you do after breakfast, and once you brush your teeth, come back down? I''ll let him know you agreed, so the class will start at eight."

    It''s not until I''m in my room that I realize Mr. Caldwell already arranged for it. But it sounds like he told them he was going to give me a choice, rather than him making the choice and then giving me a fake one. That confuses me, so I lie down on the floor and wait until half an hour passes so that I can brush my teeth. While I wait, my phone goes bloop. I pull it out to see what the dork texted me.

    Silver Bear Poker: Do you know what happened to my secret muffin stash?

    Xander: No.

    Silver Bear Poker: Do not worry, I have found it. I seem to have moved it for some reason.

    I''m not even sure how I would have known what happened to it since it''s been awhile since I was at his workshop. Maybe he thought I stopped by? But the dork likes chocolate chips in his muffins so I wouldn''t have eaten them.

    Wait.

    He needs to not send his ninja friends to change his contact information in my phone. I''m not sure I want to know what the name means this time, but I have to ask because my curiosity is too strong and I know he''ll answer.

    His response is a picture of a sword. I''m pretty sure it''s just a steel sword but the dork is probably pretending it''s a vampire bear and that''s the only way to kill it or something like that. He has a really active imagination and likes to play pretend a lot. Sort of like how he told me that he tamed all of the griffins within five hundred miles of here.

    Even my stupid self can say how ridiculous that is. Griffins are far too powerful, willful, intelligent, and sapient. I don''t know what that word means but I heard it makes an animal less beastly and that griffins have it. Supposedly, even powerful mages couldn''t tame a single griffin.

    The dork definitely has an over-active imagination. Playing pretend does sound nice, though. Unfortunately, I''d probably just get into trouble because it''s lying and saying I''m something I''m not.

    It''s soon time for me to brush my teeth so I do, then I go downstairs to meet Mr. Caldwell. To my surprise, he takes me to the room that looks like a kid''s classroom. After thinking about it, I had thought maybe it was used as a daycare for when he has an event and parents bring their babies and toddlers.

    "I had some rooms renovated on Friday," Mr. Caldwell tells me once we reach it. "They finished up on Saturday. Used a little bit of magic to make things go faster. Your lesson will take place in this room. Another thing you mention a lot, Xander, is that you''re weak. If you want, you can have a class after to help you get stronger. You can even learn martial arts, if you want. That way, you can learn to defend yourself if someone attacks you ¨C such as trying to hold your head under water. Does that sound like something you''d be interested in?"

    He''d probably ask his security staff to do it, since they''re already getting paid to be here. I really would like to learn that sort of stuff, too. But am I really allowed to defend myself?

    "Y-yes."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "Let''s go in so I can introduce you to them."

    Mr. Caldwell opens the door and lets me into the classroom. At the desk is a man in his forties, dressed in khakis and a light green polo. He stands when we enter and greets us, but he''s not the only person in here.

    Roderick, one of the security guards, is also standing in here. That makes me feel a lot more comfortable. Roderick doesn''t mind me asking to look at his guns and he''s even explained some stuff about them to me.

    There are also two boys who look around my age in here.

    One of them has platinum-blond hair like me but electric blue eyes, and he''s dressed in black shorts with yellow stripes down their sides and a black sleeveless shirt with a bold yellow stripe down the right side of the front, along with a pair of black-and-silver sneakers with yellow accents. His arms are toned in a way that suggests he''s really fit and could probably snap my bones in half with ease. That kind of scares me.

    The other boy has brown hair and blue eyes and is dressed in an outfit similar to the other boy''s, but with a brown shirt that has silver at the arm holes, neck hole, and waist hole. I think there''s a proper name for those but I can''t remember. Just like the other boy, he''s kind of toned as well.

    They both work out. Are they here told me down if I try to escape during the lesson?

    The blond one looks familiar to me for some reason and it''s not because we both have platinum-blond hair. It takes me a few moments to realize why.

    "Sparky Boy!" I realize too late that said it. "S-sorry!"

    "Sparky Boy?" He grins at me. "Don''t get called that much!"

    "His name is Lucas," Mr. Caldwell tells me, then looks at him. "Xander probably remembers more that you were covered in sparks in the pictures."

    Right. Lucas. I didn''t meet him when we dropped off the baked goods on Saturday as he wasn''t there yet. If this is Lucas, then the brown-haired boy must be Parker. Mr. Caldwell told me they''re good friends. They really are here to make sure I sit for the lessons, aren''t they?

    "I thought you might be more comfortable learning," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "If there were some boys your age around rather than just adults."

    Oh. That makes sense. I was definitely nervous about it being just me and adults, even if one of them was a security guard who lets me look at his guns.

    "So I asked Lucas''s parents if they''d ask him about coming to join in the lessons. He volunteered after hearing about it. The other boy is Parker, his friend."

    "And if you''re wondering why he''s not already babbling your ear off," Parker says. "His mom made him expend as much of his magic as he could before coming over. He tends to be a lot calmer when he''s low on mana."

    "It''s a condition," Lucas says. "And I want to go by Luke now, Mr. Caldwell."

    "Sorry," Mr. Caldwell says. "I''ll keep that in mind, Luke."

    A nickname, sort of like how I prefer to go by Xander and Nick prefers to go by Nick and Ms. Katie prefers to go by Ms. Katie. Since that''s what he wants to go by, I''ll try to remember it but I might forget his name entirely again.

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "I need to get going or I''ll be late, though I''ll stop by for a minute between classes. You boys have fun. Not too much fun, Luke. You''re here to make Xander more comfortable, not scare him off with your unreasonable amounts of energy."

    "Understood!" Luke salutes.

    Mr. Caldwell bids me a good day, then leaves. I examine teacher ¨C who introduces himself as Mr. Massey ¨C and Luke and Parker using my mage-sight. All three of them have a decent amount of magic. Mr. Massey''s magic is like normal people''s magic even if he has a lot of it compared to most I''ve seen.

    Parker and Luke, though¡­ their magic is different. Parker has a lot of magic and it seems to have some sort of lava aspect to it. I''ve never seen that in a person before, all of the mana I''ve seen in people has been plain.

    Then there''s Luke¡­ if Mr. Massey makes normal people look like they have no mana and Parker makes him look like he has none¡­ Luke makes Parker look like he doesn''t exist. I think that''s an appropriate comparison. Well, he''s actually got a small amount at the moment but I can tell that his capacity is massive. He really does have a lot of mana and it has a sort of lightning aspect to it, too.

    Not just that, but it also seems like there''s actual lightning in his magic. It''s also very calm right now, the sparks slowly flickering about. I didn''t know that sparks of electricity could look calm and sleepy but they apparently can. The dork probably knows the explanation for it, but I''m not sure I''ll remember to ask him when I have the time.

    I turn off the mage-sight as I take a seat on a green beanbag. Luke is on a yellow one and Parker is on a blue one. Mr. Massey starts the lesson by handing me a clipboard and a small dry-erase board, along with stuff to write with and a packet. Parker and Luke both already have this stuff, but their packets are turned upside down.

    "This is a test," Mr. Massey says. "To help me get a clear idea of where you''re at and will contain a mixture of basics and stuff you might have learned up through the seventh grade. Fill it out as best you can, but don''t worry if you can''t figure out an answer. Just skip it and move on. This test is so that I can get an idea of where you are, alright, Xander? It''s not for a grade, it''s so that I know where to start with your lessons. And don''t compare your time in answering to theirs, they only asked to do it so they could compete against each other. If they don''t get a perfect score on it, they''re each doing fifty push-ups."

    I nod, then he tells us to begin. A lot of the questions are really hard for me and I don''t have a calculator. My phone does, but Luke and Parker aren''t using one so I think I''m supposed to do the math in my head or on the papers of the packet.

    Even though Mr. Massey said to not worry too much, I still feel awful every time I give up on a question. There are far too many that I''m bad at and can''t solve. Luke and Parker finish their packets in about thirty minutes, but I''m struggling with every question I''m on at that point and can''t figure them out.

    "Xander," Mr. Massey says. "It seems like you''re skipping a lot now, do you want to stop?"

    My face heats up as I nod. This is awful. I couldn''t even finish the test.

    "That''s okay," Mr. Massey says. "It just means we''ll need to look at the stuff needed for those problems and teach you them. It''s possible your school didn''t actually get to those lessons ¨C some schools teach at different levels and the academy I work at tends to be a bit more advanced than public schools. It won''t take me long to review the tests, just sit tight for a few minutes."

    How do I sit tight? I don''t know what that means and I''m scared to ask. Parker plays on his phone while Luke fidgets around a bit. He was fidgeting a lot during the lesson. I sneak a look at him and use my mage-sight again. The sparks in his mana are a little bit more active right now than it was when I first saw him and he''s got more mana than he did before. I guess the more mana he has, the more active those sparks become.

    "Alright," Mr. Massey says. "Luke, Parker, you two failed to score perfectly so you each need to do fifty push-ups."

    "Hey!" Luke protests. "I''m pretty sure you put eighth-grade questions on that test!"

    "I didn''t put any questions on this test," Mr. Massey says. "Mr. Greene''s the one who made it."

    "He''s the honors algebra teacher for eighth grade!" Luke exclaims. "That''s not fair! You cheated! I want a do-over! We should-oi! Parker! No flicking!"

    Parker flicked Luke on the nose while Luke was talking. If I tried doing that to someone, they''d probably beat me up and leave me for dead.

    "Mr. Massey''s just messing with you," Parker says. "Can''t you see he''s trying not to laugh?"

    I sneak a look at Mr. Massey''s face and find that he is, indeed, looking like he''s about to laugh. Then he does laugh, so I guess it wasn''t that he was trying not to laugh but that he was about to laugh.

    "Xander," Mr. Massey says. "It looks like you''re still on basic math ¨C addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Proper equations seem to be a little bit out of your grasp for the most part, especially as you solve problems in order rather than using the order of operations. We''ll start with that. Why don''t you boys take a few minutes to stretch your legs, then we''ll start with the first lesson?"

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Stretch my legs means stand and stretch, right? I stand and try to remember what the leg stretches are but can''t.

    "Hey, Xander," Luke says. "My mom said you''re the one who made some of the cookies and brownies and cake and muffins that were waiting when I got home on Saturday. Is that true?"

    "No."

    "You didn''t?"

    "I only helped," I say. "Ms. Katie made them."

    "Oh!" He exclaims. "Well, they''re pretty good! The perfect thing for me after I came home from using my magic so heavily for two days! My expectations were getting woken up while carried through the house to the smell of bacon and eggs and other foods but I got woken up to those smells and saw platter upon platter of tasty treats on the counter as well! I was surprised there were so many lemon-flavored ones since I''ve only met Mr. Caldwell a few times, but he apparently asked my parents what kind of snacks I liked and they told him I like chocolate and lemon-flavored cookies and cakes and bread and Parkerwhyareyoupinchingmyear?"

    Whoa. Mr. Caldwell was really serious when he told me that Luke has a tendency to babble. Someone was carrying him through the house? Probably his mom or dad, not Parker.

    "You''re babbling again," Parker says.

    "Oh, right," Luke says. "Sorry, Xander! I was told not to talk a lot around you, but it''s hard for me to not. I try really hard but it just happens. Hey, do you want some food? I brought some of the cookies you made so we could snack on them."

    I glance over at Mr. Massey.

    "It''s fine," Mr. Massey says.

    Oops. I probably looked over too much. It seems like he''s printing something right now. I didn''t notice the devices but there are a couple of machines in here that I don''t remember seeing the other day.

    "O-okay."

    Luke plops back down onto a beanbag chair and opens up a backpack I hadn''t noticed before. It looks like both he and Parker brought backpacks. From his backpack, Luke pulls out two plastic containers. One has chocolate-chip cookies in it and the other has lemon cookies.

    "Have what you want," he tells me. "I''ve got plenty. Also! I brought milk."

    Would it still be good after all this time?

    Luke pulls out two bottles of milk that have some sort of weird sleeve on them. It''s semi-clear but has a frosty look to them and a slight sparkle, too. Frosty as in actual ice kind of frosty, not the ''frosty'' of some glass styles. The bottles themselves look like individual serving size ones instead of bigger ones meant to be poured into cups. After handing me one of them, Luke pulls out another and hands it to Parker.

    "Never seen a refrigeration sleeve before?" Luke asks and I realize I was examining it.

    I get the feeling that if I weren''t an orphan, I''d have experienced something like this before now.

    "Um¡­ no?"

    "Don''t worry," he smiles at me. "It''s not something most common folk would ever use. They''re somewhat expensive. You put it in the freezer and it''ll charge up and store the cold it absorbs, then you slip it onto something it fits onto and keep it cold. These ones are refrigeration sleeves rather than freezer sleeves, so they''ll keep it cold as if it were in a refrigerator. You can tell the difference because the freezer sleeves have little snowflakes all along the top and bottom instead of just the big one. The sparkly look is a result of the coldness ¨C as it loses power, the sparkly begins to fade as well."

    That''s pretty neat.

    "They cost about two hundred each," Luke tells me. "But are extremely versatile since many companies actually design their soda cans or bottles to fit in them. Beer cans, too, and even individual-size milk bottles like these."

    "Part of that cost is to make sure they''re durable," Parker adds. "Since it''d be a complete waste of money if you bought one and then accidentally tore it with your fingernails or by dropping it onto concrete or something."

    I''m not sure how I feel about holding something so expensive in my hands. Luke seems to treat it as if the cost is nothing, just carrying around three of them in his backpack for a snack. That doesn''t make me feel like they''re nothing, though.

    But I don''t want them to look at me weirder than they already do so I try to enjoy the milk and cookies. Mr. Massey starts the lesson a few minutes later and doesn''t tell us to put the food away. Luke and Parker don''t put their snacks away, either. Parker has pretzels and baby carrots that he''s sharing with us. Me not having snacks to share makes me feel awful even if they aren''t saying anything about it. It''s not right that I didn''t bring any but get to eat some of theirs.

    What Mr. Massey starts us off with is order of operations. I probably learned it at some point and then forgot it because of my stupid, worthless brain. Though the fact that I''m not that great with even basic math in the first place probably doesn''t help me at all. Despite my stupidity, Mr. Massey acts really patient with me and even helps walk me through the basic math problems when I mess them up.

    I really want this to end because it''s making my head hurt and I''m just getting more and more frustrated, but I agreed to do this and I don''t want Mr. Caldwell getting mad at me for quitting.

    When it''s time for the class to end, Mr. Massey hands me a packet and two laminated charts. I set them on the clipboard I was given and examine them. Each one is an eleven-by-eleven grid, one having "ADDITION" printed on the top and the other having "MULTIPLICATION" written at the top. The top row and left-hand column are highlighted green, while every box on the grid except the top-left one has numbers in them.

    "Xander," Mr. Massey says. "This one here," he points at the one for addition. "If you add a number from the left-hand column to a number from the top column, you''ll get the number in their shared box. So if you see the seven here and the four here, and you follow the seven over to where it intersects with the column for four, you''ll get eleven. That''s seven plus four. If it helps, you can use these."

    He hands me a pair of laminated bookmark-like items, each one about ten inches in length and one in width. There''s a gap running down the length of each, like a sort of window. The laminate covers that as well, but it''s clear so I can see through it.

    "You can lay them on the chart like this," he lays one down with its top edge lined up with the bottom of the row for the 7, then the other with its left edge lined up with the right side of the column for 4. "And see where the two connect. As you can see, it meets at the eleven."

    This is really cool.

    "You can do the same for the multiplication one, too," Mr. Massey tells me. "Try lining them up for the seven and the four on there."

    I do so, and the shared box is 28.

    "That''s because seven times three is twenty-eight," Mr. Massey says. "It''s seven four times, or seven plus seven plus seven plus seven. You can use that as a sort of cheat sheet when you do work for now, until you get the basic math down and don''t need it anymore."

    Then Mr. Massey puts a packet down on top of those. It''s three pages, front-and-back.

    "This is a practice packet," Mr. Massey tells me. "It contains a lot of problems that require using basic math, but with a few extra steps like you learned today. Order of operations. Don''t think you have to get it done today. This is just to help you practice a bit and I won''t check it until next Monday, so you have a full week to try and get through it, okay?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "Alright," he says.

    "Can I get one?" Luke asks.

    "Here," Mr. Massey drops one on Luke''s head. "Knock yourself out. Xander, here''s one more helpful thing for you."

    Mr. Massey hands me a laminated card that shows the order of operations, a note at the top stating to do each part as they appear in the order listed on the card. Another note states that items on the same line are done in the order they appear. Then a note for multiplication and division states that they''re done in the order they appear together when it''s their turn rather than multiplication first, then division. The same goes for addition and subtraction.

    I really am stupid to need something like this to remind me of the rules when I''m going to into the eighth grade and I hate that others know it. But at least I didn''t have to ask for it because then I''d feel even worse. Mr. Massey isn''t like my other teachers, he knew I had a problem and made some help for me.

    "T-thank you."

    "Can I get one?" Luke asks.

    "If you need one of those," Mr. Massey says. "Then I''ll be letting the school know you need to go back several years."

    "Nope! Never mind! Not gonna repeat fourth grade!"

    "Who knows," Parker grins at him. "Maybe it''d be the first grade."

    "I''ll first-grade you!" Luke tackles Parker and starts wrestling him.

    Scared of that but also a little bit curious about something, I check Luke''s mana. He''s got more of it than before, and his sparks are a little bit more happy now. Even after more than an hour, though, he''s recovered less than a fiftieth of his capacity. I''m pretty sure that''s not from a slow rate, though, as it seems like he''s recovered significantly more mana than Parker can hold.

    By a lot.

    Scary.

    "That''s all for today, boys," Mr. Massey tells us. "I''ll see you tomorrow."

    "Bye, Mr. Massey!" Luke waves at him.

    "Bye, Mr. Massey," Parker tells him.

    "Bye," I tell him.

    Mr. Massey leaves and about two minutes later, Mr. Caldwell enters.

    "Xander," he says. "You did mention wanting to learn how to swim, so I talked to the swim instructor from the school. The class begins at nine-thirty, do you want it at the indoor pool or the outdoor one? The room for the indoor one is enchanted so that sound doesn''t echo around like it would at a normal indoor pool."

    That makes that option much, much better. I''m already going to have to be in swim trunks instead of pants and a long-sleeve and that will make me feel naked. The echoing is always too loud, though, even if I don''t go into the pool. Being outside would make me feel extra naked like that because of all of the open space so I''d rather be inside. Without the echo, that would be better.

    "Inside."

    "Alright," Mr. Caldwell says. "You can show Luke and Parker the pool, and you can leave the worksheet in here or take it up to your room if you want."

    "Okay."

    Mr. Caldwell leaves, and I decide to put my worksheet and help sheets and card up in the office in the room I''m using. Since there are other boys here and I''m supposed to be hanging out with them, that means I''m supposed to invite them up to see the room I''m staying in, right? I don''t remember the right protocol here! Now I can''t remember if I ever learned it!

    "Hey! Can we see your room?" Luke asks.

    That answers that question. Before I started crying, too. At least it''s delayed Luke saying he hates me and beating me and then saying he won''t help me learn anymore.

    "I''m staying upstairs," I say.

    Luke and Parker follow me up to the room and Luke lets out a ''whoa'' when he sees it. Why is he impressed? His bedroom should be fancier, isn''t Gatewood Energy even richer than Mr. Caldwell? I looked them up after Mr. Caldwell told me about them and found that they don''t just own magitech power plants, they also manufacture and sell magitech backup generators. Their family is a well-established titan in the energy market, second only to the energy company within the Lumaria Group.

    "Oh, my goodness! That bear is so cute!" Luke squeals and starts to dash forward.

    "Don''t grab it!" Parker grabs Luke and pulls him back. "You''ve gotta ask first."

    "Sorry!" Luke exclaims, then looks at me. "Can I hold the bear? I wanna feel his fur!"

    I don''t want him to hold Trenton, who''s currently sitting the my bed (which is properly made) in front of the pillows. At the same time, telling people ''no'' gets me into trouble. How do I get out of this?

    "You don''t really have much in here, do you?" Luke looks around. "I was expecting, like, a lot of toys and posters set up on the walls! I have a lot of posters on my walls, mostly posters of the MCs of some of the anime I watch. Do you have anything hidden under your bed? Aw. You don''t. That''s where I hide stuff I don''t want my parents seeing."

    Looks like the problem solved itself. I put the homework and help cards down in the desk, then return to the bedroom part of the quarters and find Luke examining the closet. Parker looks at me and sighs.

    "Sorry about him," he says. "Luke''s a bit off in the head."

    "Oi!" Luke exclaims. "Am not! How come you have so few clothes? Parker and I went shopping the other day and I bought, like, fifty new outfits."

    "Twenty-three," Parker says. "And only because you couldn''t find anymore clothes that you liked. Stop running around, Luke, and we''ve got to get down to the pool. Can you show us where it is, Xander?"

    I nod, then lead them out of the room and down to the indoor pool. Mr. Caldwell is in there, along with Roderick and a man in his late thirties who''s wearing a pair of grey board shorts and a whistle around his neck and that''s it. Now I''m really scared and find myself moving behind Luke a little for some reason. Probably to hide myself.

    This was a bad idea. I''m really scared of this man. I didn''t think this through at all and I don''t want to be here. I don''t want to be here at all. Not only will I have to be exposed in front of an adult, but an adult''s exposed here! He''s gonna hurt me. He''s gonna beat me. He''s gonna make me take off my trunks and do other stuff to me and it''s gonna be awful and I want to run but my body won''t move! Breathing starts getting difficult for me as memories of what my old foster family did start coming back and I think I''m going to cry and it''s awful and I-

    "Xander," Roderick steps in front of me and shows me his gun, including that it''s loaded and the safety is off and there''s a bullet in the chamber. "Look in my eyes. If he does any thing inappropriate to you, I will shoot him. Okay?"

    Roderick is telling the truth. That¡­ makes me a little bit more comfortable. Still really scared, but I don''t want to run away anymore. I don''t want to be too close to the swim man, though.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell calls over and Roderick steps out of the way. "This is Coach Evan, he''s the athletics teacher at the middle school that Luke and Parker attend. He''s agreed to help you learn how to swim. I''ve put swim clothes in a locker for you, that''s the door to the locker room. Parker, Luke, you can change in there as well. Remember to shower before coming out."

    We go to the locker rooms ¨C I did remember their location ¨C and shower and change. Lucas pulls off his sneakers and socks first, then his shirt, and I find that he''s wearing some sort of skintight shirt underneath. Or¡­ outfit? I''m so confused by it that I''m still staring at it when he pulls down his shorts and it apparently covers his upper legs and crotch as well. It looks like it''s all one piece and it''s made of some sort of metallic yellow material.

    "You''re confused by this, right?" Luke asks, and I nod. "It''s made from a special fiber blend that''s naturally-resistant to lightning and lightning magics, then treated with a special alchemical solution to make it even more resistant. That treatment is actually what gives it the metallic look. I wear the leotard in case I have to use certain lightning magics while I''m wearing clothes that aren''t resilient to it ¨C so that I don''t end up naked when my clothes are destroyed. Do you remember the weird glow and sparks on me in the pictures from the rescue efforts? That''s a special lightning spell that charges my body full of it. It would destroy normal clothes, but the outfit I was wearing then was made of a similar material to this, so it was fine."

    "Oh."

    That''s really cool. I wouldn''t have ever thought about something like that in his shoes. Having a second outfit on as a backup, I mean. How does he take it-oh, there''s a zipper on the back.

    Luke changes into a pair of blue shorts with yellow lightning bolts on them (he does take off the leotard), Parker changes into a pair of brown shorts with some grey rock-like patterns on them, and Mr. Caldwell left two outfit choices for me in the locker that has my name on it. One of them is a pair of dark green shorts with a light green pattern toward the bottoms of the legs, and the other is¡­ a dark green unitard (I called it a leotard but Luke says the longer arms and legs means it''s a unitard).

    I almost put that one on, but then realize that Luke and Parker will probably make fun of me for it and I don''t like getting teased. There''s already enough taunts about me being a fake King and while these two obviously don''t know my last name yet, I want less things for them to make fun of. Better to be made fun of for being skinny than shy even if I really hate not having my body completely covered like normal.

    So I wear the shorts. It''s hard for me to breathe, but I do my best.

    Once we''re ready, we go out to the pool. I don''t know how I''m supposed to learn to swim when I can''t even brave getting within a few feet of the edge of the pool.

    "Xander," Coach Evan says, standing about fifteen feet away. "You don''t have to get into the water today. We can start with small steps, just getting close to the edge over by the shallow end."

    "Wait, hold on," Luke says. "Xander, I want to do something fun real quick! You look really tense and it''s probably better if you relax. I know you''re really shy and stuff ¨C Mr. Caldwell told me you''d probably wear the unitard swim suit ¨C and are being really brave. But it''s clear that you''re past your comfort boundaries. So if you''re okay with it, then can you close your eyes and let me spin you around? Then I''ll take you to the end of the pool so that you don''t have to see how close you are. You could be five feet away or five inches or somewhere in between or outside of that range. We can stand like that for a minute with you not knowing how close to the edge of it you are and when you open your eyes, you can see that you''re a little bit closer than you''re normally okay with!"

    I don''t see how this is fun but Luke seems like he really wants to help, so I agree. Too scared and stressed¡­ I didn''t think it all the way through and jump when Luke touches me to spin me around. But I agreed to this and I don''t like going back on my agreements, so I close my eyes again and let Luke spin me around.

    He leads me to the end of the pool and turns me, then brings me to the side. He even spun me again at the corner. This is too scary. What if he''s really going to push me into the pool? I shouldn''t have agreed to this. No, no, no, no, no!

    Luke has me stop walking and turn, then waits for a few minutes. I keep my eyes closed but the panic is still here as much as I don''t want it to be. What if we''re at the very edge of the pool? But Luke seemed like he really wanted to help me so he''s probably got me a couple of feet back.

    "Xander?" Luke asks.

    "Y-yeah?"

    "You''re doing really good," he says. "Move your left foot forward just a tiny bit, okay?"

    I do as he says and quickly find my toes not being on the ground anymore. I really am at the edge of the pool.

    "You''re right at the edge," Luke tells me as I feel my breathing get more difficult again. "It''s okay, Xander. Can you take a really long deep breath and hold it? It might help you calm down a little."

    It always does when Mr. Caldwell asks me to take deep breaths when I wake him up with my nightmares, so I give this a try. Maybe it''ll work and I won''t be such a scared baby anymore.

    As soon as I start holding my breath¡­ someone grabs me from behind, covering my mouth and pinching my nose at the same time while pinning my arms to my sides. Then I find us shoved forward and into the water. I try to panic and flail but whoever is holding me has my arms pinned tight and I''m not strong enough to break free. I also can''t breathe because they''re keeping my mouth and nose shut.

    Then my head is above the water again and they''re still holding me, but not pinching my nose shut anymore. My eyes are open and I can see Parker, Coach Evan, and Roderick running along the sides of the pool toward us but I can''t see Luke. It''s Luke. He''s the one who did this. They''re saying something but all I can think about is that I''m going to die. This is it! I''m going to drown!

    Why won''t he let me go? I can''t scream! Let me go! I''m gonna drown! Let me go! Stop! I want out!

    Eventually, even my panic wears out. As it does, I realize that Luke is murmuring ''deep breaths'' over and over. That does seem to help me calm down, so I give it a try and the panic wears out even faster.

    "I uncover your mouth, you''re not going to scream, right?" Luke asks once my body kind-of relaxes. "You won''t try to break free if I loosen my grip?"

    I shake my head, scared. I can''t swim. If he stops holding me I''m going to drown, aren''t I?

    "Alright," Luke says. "Going to readjust my grip on you, okay? You might dip down a little, but you''re not going to drown. I''ve got you."

    Luke lets go of my mouth and my head does dip into the water a little as he adjusts his grip on me. I start to panic but Luke quickly pulls me back up.

    "There we go," he says. "Treading water was really hard like that. I''m gonna pull us over to the shallow end."

    Luke shifts our positions so that we''re leaning back with me on top of him, and he starts doing some weird kick thing with his feet to turn us around, then swim us over to the shallow end. Once we''re there, he keeps hold of me until my feet are firmly planted on the floor of the pool.

    "There we go," Luke says as he lets go of me and moves around so that he''s a few feet in front of me. "Sorry for scaring you, Xander, but Coach Evan''s suggested plan for getting you used to the water was really boring and might take all summer. He wanted to start with having you get as close as you were comfortable, then closing your eyes and taking a step forward. Do that until you''re able to get that much closer to the pool with your eyes open. Slowly work your way up to the edge. But that way could take all summer to get you in the water and I thought maybe if you went straight in and got to see you weren''t drowning, you''d be cool! I''d heard that for people with drowning fears, diving straight in can help deal with it. Really sorry for scaring you, Xander. But don''t worry! In preparation for this, I asked Trey what kind of foods you like and brought you two cheesecakes as an apology! They''re waiting for you in the kitchen. I asked Parker''s parents to make them. My dad''s good at some things but he''s not good at custards and cheesecake is basically a custard. Well, so I guess that means Parker brought them, not me, but I arranged them as an apology. I understand if you don''t want me here anymore, but I hope you understand why I did it. Look! You''re in the water!"

    It''s only when Luke points it out that it hits me. I''m in the water and I''m not drowning. I''m still scared, but he must have really wore my panic out because now it''s just me being scared. That was still really mean of him, but I was looking in his eyes as he spoke to try and spot even the slightest lie and¡­ it was all truth. Luke really did want to help me, even if it was in a really mean and terrifying way.

    He also seems¡­ scared. Roderick probably won''t shoot him, though, so why would he be scared?

 Chapter 012

    [Luke ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts during Chapter 11

    "Ack!" I exclaim as something grabs the back of my shirt, preventing me from moving further. "Dad! Don''t tear the shirt! It''s a new one and I''ve gotta look good when meeting new people!"

    It''s from the clothes I bought with Parker last week, a black sleeveless shirt with a yellow stripe down the right side of the front, and I''m wearing a pair of black shorts with yellow stripes down their sides. My sneakers for today match as well ¨C they''re black and silver with yellow accents.

    I picked this outfit out because not only do I like it, but I think it''s calm enough that it won''t freak out Xander and I don''t want him to be too tense around me. My presence is supposed to help make him calm, which is a weird thing in the first place considering I''m a king of lightning. Being calm isn''t exactly something I can do when I''m calm.

    "Pour all of your mana into this," Dad hands me a crystal orb. "You''re still in recovery from the weekend but are already going into hyper mode. Such energy levels are bound to spook Xander."

    I comply as Dad instructs, pouring my mana into the crystal as quickly as I can. Sparks dance along the crystal as I do this and a yellow-white glow begins to form inside of it. That doesn''t normally happen when a mage does this, but I''m not normal. The purpose of me doing this is to reduce my energy levels so that I''m not as hyper for when I go to meet Xander.

    This isn''t my first time pouring my mana into an orb like this, my parents make me do it anytime I need to be calmed down. The benefit dinner on Friday is going to be one such instance where they have me drain myself as much as possible into one of these. It will make it much less likely for me to annoy the other guests, and the same will probably work for Xander especially with how much more subdued I am right now than normal due to burning through my mana for two days straight.

    "There!" I hand my dad back the orb once I finish charging it full of my mana. "Now! Snacks!"

    I finish entering the kitchen, which I was trying to do when Dad grabbed me. Opening up one of the freezers, I pull out some cooler sleeves to slip onto some smaller milk bottles I pull out of the fridge. Six bottles of milk, or three for each of us. I also fill up some containers with cookies that Xander baked, and a big bag of chips, then set off outside. Mom is talking with Parker, who arrived while I was on my way out.

    "Did you bring them?" I ask Parker.

    "Yes," Parker says. "They''re already in the car. Why did you want my parents to bake two cheesecakes, anyway?"

    "For Xander!" I answer. "I asked Trey last night what kind of food Xander likes ''cause I figured, after some classes, he could use something fun! And it might help him tolerate me more. Oh, hey, I see a backpack! Are you bringing snacks, too? And swim shorts? Trey said that Xander is going to take some swim lessons, too, and asked if I''d stick around for those as well as Xander''s probably going to be really anxious being alone with a man in swim shorts."

    "You didn''t burn off your mana?" Parker asks. "Shouldn''t you do that so you don''t spook Xander?"

    "Dad just had me do it a minute ago," I tell him.

    "Nervous babbling, not hyper babbling," Mom says. "He''s anxious since he heard that Xander is easily spooked. The poor kid was apparently abused in the past and jumps at almost everything right now. That''s part of why Trey wanted some other kids his age around during the classes ¨C so it wasn''t just Xander and adults."

    "Yeah," I say. "And I want to help him get better because nobody should live in fear. But what if I end up scaring him?"

    "Remember," Mom tells Parker. "If he starts babbling too much, just pinch his ear."

    "What?" I ask. "Hey! No! That actually hurts! It''s not like lightning!"

    "Come on," Mom says. "It''s time to go."

    We get into the car and Mom drives us to Trey''s, and when we get out, Trey greets us out front and gives a curious look to the cheesecakes.

    "You were wanting to bring something?" Trey asks. "Is that why you were asking?"

    "Yup!" I answer. "For after classes, since I figured it might help Xander relax after!"

    "I''ll get those put in the fridge, then," Trey tells me. "Come on in."

    We enter the house and Trey puts the cheesecakes in the fridge while talking with us and my mom, then leads us to the room where we''ll be hanging out with Xander. It''s like the classrooms at school! Trey must have arranged that, especially since Mr. Massey is here.

    Parker and I take our seats and Trey leaves, then he returns a few minutes later with Xander. Whoa. And I thought my hair was light in color. Though his hair looks brown, I can tell that he''s blond because of his eye lashes. Xander didn''t dye those and they are so light in color!

    He''s not albino but his platinum-blond hair seems even more bright and bold than mine, and I''m a natural lightning mage! He''s clearly not, though, as the electricity in him isn''t all that strong. In fact, it''s something I normally see in someone who''s close to death. It could just be that he has a naturally low level of it, though. Some people do.

    It becomes evident before we even finish the assessment tests that Mr. Massey gave us just how badly Xander needs remedial classes. I keep sneaking glances over at his paper and he struggles even with basic math and he tries to do all problems without using order of operations. Division written like a fraction completely stumps him.

    It''s a good thing I brought snacks, because that''s the perfect way to help someone relax when they''re stressed after a test, even one that''s just meant to see where someone is. Xander''s a bit hesitant at first, and I get to learn that he doesn''t even know about cooling sleeves (official name: refrigeration sleeves). Once he has some food, though, he relaxes a little bit more.

    The rest of the math class goes pretty well even if it''s boring for me, but I still try to outpace Parker on finishing all of the questions while Xander''s learning.

    When Xander goes to put his homework and cheat sheets in his study, Parker has to stop me from rushing and grabbing the teddy bear hanging out on the bed. Whoops. It seems like I startled Xander and forgot about asking permission. The bear really is cute, just like its owner.

    Whoa. He has so few clothes, and most of them are old. Did Trey not buy him very many? I''ll ask my mom if she can say something to Trey about that, Xander definitely needs more than ten outfits, and only two of them look new. Wait, no, it''s nine. So he had seven before he came here and Trey only bought him two. I know he''s new to parenting but even that should be obvious!

    Down at the pool, Xander starts to freak out about something. I''m not entirely sure what, especially since Coach Evan is a cool guy even if he tends to be extra-strict with me during class due to me being a bit¡­ hyper. Oh, jeez, I''m building up hyperactivity again and I''m still really low on mana.

    As I take a few deep breaths to try and calm my energy levels, the security guard that was hanging out in the classroom and who is in here steps in front of Xander and shows him his gun, promising Xander that he''ll shoot Coach Evan if he tries to do anything inappropriate to him.

    That''s when it clicks for me. Why Xander needs other kids his age around if he''s going to be in a room with an adult like this for hours. Why there''s a security guard around with a promise to shoot the teachers if they misbehave.

    If they do anything inappropriate to him.

    Xander was raped, wasn''t he? That''s why he was freaking out so bad after seeing Coach Evan. With Coach wearing just board shorts, it must have sent Xander into a horrible flashback. That probably wasn''t thought out very well. Coach is used to teaching us at school and being ready to jump in and rescue someone who needs it. He forgot to account for Xander''s fears and just did what he normally does.

    At least Xander seems to calm down after the security guard promises to shoot Coach, though I know it won''t be necessary. Coach would never do something like that. He''d sooner shoot the guy trying.

    We go to the changing room and I try to avoid looking near Xander so that he can change more comfortably, but he ends up seeing my leotard and looking confused by it. Most people are when they learn I wear one under my normal clothes, so I let him know it''s in case I need to lightning-charge myself. I don''t wear it while swimming, though, so it comes off before I put on my shorts.

    Once we''re all ready ¨C with Xander wearing the swim trunks in his locker rather than the swimmer''s suit ¨C we go out to the pool. I know what Coach wants to do to try and get Xander used to the water and I''m going to do something completely like a thirteen-year-old boy and go the more direct way¡­ but I have to trick Xander into doing it. This is the real reason why I wanted Parker to bring a couple of cheesecakes his parents made. Xander may hate me after but the cheesecakes might calm him down.

    I convince him to close his eyes and let me spin him around a few times so that I can disorient him. I feel bad for taking advantage of his fears but I know he won''t realize that we turned the wrong way.

    Once we''re at the end of the pool, I stop Xander with him close to the water''s edge ¨C his toes are almost at the edge. I let him calm down a little and relax, then let him try to see how close he is to the water. Then, I have him take in a deep breath¡­ before I cover his mouth, pinch his nose, pin his arms to his sides, and shove us off and into the water.

    Xander panics. Hard. And he''s surprisingly strong for someone with almost no meat on his bones. But I mange to keep hold of him ¨C and my hand over his mouth ¨C until he calms down. Then, I swim us over to the shallow end because treading water like that is really hard and Xander could probably use having his feet on solid ground.

    I start apologizing to Xander. Babbling, really. Xander was definitely scared and while I don''t want him to hate me he probably does. But he''s in the water without panicking now and that should make things easier for him in the future. Even if he doesn''t talk to me again now, I''m sure he''ll understand in a few years while I did this.

    "Do you know how to shut up?" Xander suddenly asks, right before his face turns bright red and he starts apologizing over and over while looking terrified.

    Terrified because he said something almost everyone says to me at some point? I want to know who hurt this precious boy and electrocute the crap out of them.

    At the same time that Xander starts apologizing, Coach snorts and Parker starts laughing so hard he falls into the pool.

    "Sometimes!" I tell Xander. "You have to hit me in the back of the head really hard, though. Might cause memory loss. Want to give it a try? Here! Go on!"

    I turn so that my back is to Xander, but nothing happens.

    "Come on, Xander!" I say. "Hit the ''off'' switch!"

    "Hitting people is bad. So is drowning them."

    "Oi! I''m saying it''s okay to hit me!" I tell Xander. "And I didn''t drown you! I know you''re probably really upset and mad and scared but I really did have your best interest at heart! See? You''re not freaking out about the water!"

    "My panic is all wore out right now," Xander says. "And hitting people is wrong."

    "No, no, no," Parker says. "Hitting people without their permission is wrong. Luke''s literally telling you that he''s okay with you giving him a good whack to the back of the head right now. If you hit him this time, you won''t get into trouble."

    I look over to see Parker getting into the water and moving closer to Xander, then I face away again.

    "Come on, Xander!" I say. "Don''t you want to try and turn me off?"

    "You gotta do it like this," I hear Parker say right before I realize the reason he got into the pool.

    There''s a solid strike to the back of my head. Parker really put as much force into that as he could ¨C and he used his fist! Fortunately, I''m a pure-blooded mage. I''m made of sturdy stuff.

    Well, actually, I''d enhanced my physical toughness because I''m not sure how strong the skinny guy actually is but holding him so he didn''t accidentally start drowning himself let me know he''s strong enough I''d need to enhance my toughness. That''s close enough, though.

    "Hey!" I twist around, then try to tackle Parker.

    I manage to dunk him under the water but he wiggles free and wrestles me down, the two of us goofing around for a minute before Coach blows his whistle, which startles Xander more than us.

    "Parker, Luke," Coach says. "You two have far too much energy. Swim laps along that side of the pool until I say stop."

    Parker and I get to work on our laps, and I can see Coach talking with Xander at the side of the pool. Coach is out of the pool, Xander''s moved closer but is still in the water. Xander seems to be listening intently, then I''m swimming away from him and can''t see. When I reach the end of the pool and turn around, Xander''s holding onto the edge of the pool and is floating like that.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Instead of being really close to Xander, Coach is several feet away, though he''s sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs into the water so that he''s lower down and not as imposing. That''s probably a good thing, as standing over Xander would probably scare the guy and he''s already been spooked enough for the day.

    Coach continues to talk with Xander and I can see him gesturing with his hands and arms a few times. At some point, Xander starts kicking his feet, though he stops several times, probably so that Coach can let him know something wrong with his form.

    Xander soon gets to kick using a small float board to hold onto, propelling himself from one side of the pool to the other. He sticks close to the shallow end for that, and when Parker and I reach back down to that end during this, Coach calls for us to stop.

    "Parker, come here," Coach says. "Luke, stay there. Xander, stop once you reach this side again. You''re looking worn out."

    Parker swims over to Coach and I look over at Xander, who''s trying to be sneaky with his glances toward me. Yeah, he''s scared of me. I hope that once I''m gone and he''s calmed down, he realizes I had his best interests at heart. Even if he doesn''t, that''s okay. If he never wants to see my face again, I''m okay with that. Hoping for a new friend in such an easily-frightened boy isn''t something I should do since I''m aware I''m too energetic most of the time. That''s why I was okay with taking a risk and making him hate me forever, because there already wasn''t a chance of us becoming friends.

    I''m okay with that. Really. I''ll eventually find people who are cool with being my friends. At least Xander should have an easier time with his fear of drowning now.

    After Coach talks with Parker for a minute, they teach Xander how to float on his back with Parker being the one to hold Xander for the initial floating moments. That turns out to be difficult because Xander panics a little anytime his ears go below the water. It takes some time for him to eventually start floating, but he manages it.

    Then he just drifts there. Coach has Parker and me move to the deeper end and tosses in some water torpedoes and has us race to collect them. While we do this a few times, Coach returns down to Xander and tells him something. The next time I look over, Xander is doing some sort of half-hearted attempt at kicking his feet. I think he''s supposed to be doing a backstroke but he''s too tired from the swimming he''s already done.

    By the time the class is over, Xander really looks like he just wants to take a nap. He''s probably not used to exerting his body so much. Chances are good he''s going to be really sore over the next few days.

    "Xander?" I say once we''ve showered and changed, and he inches away from me a little. "I''m sorry for scaring you so much, and I know you probably hate me now. But¡­ can I ask something? Are you okay with my reasons for it?"

    Xander doesn''t answer and that''s all I need to know. He hates me now. He hurries out of the changing room and I sigh.

    "You didn''t even try to make friends with him," Parker says with a little bit of anger in his voice. "You just went and did something stupid."

    "Not that stupid," I tell him. "I made him confront his fear more head-on than Coach was going to do. And it worked. He was fine being in the water. I feel really bad for scaring him but better me than someone he actually could be friends with. We both know he''d never like me."

    Parker huffs but he knows I''m right. As much as I want to try and make friends¡­ the absolute last type of person Xander could make friends with is someone who has a tendency to babble as much as I do. That''s not a guess, that''s a fact. He needs someone a lot more calm ¨C like Parker. Though Parker''s also more like a typical thirteen-year-old boy so he can be rather goofy and hyper, too.

    We take a little bit longer to leave the changing rooms than probably necessary. The plan was originally for us to stay for lunch as well but I don''t think Xander wants me around anymore. As we reach the dining room to check, Xander''s putting lids on containers. He gives me a really nervous look, but grabs the containers and hands them to us, quickly backing away from me and looking at me like he''s afraid I''m going to attack him.

    "Bye, Xander," I say. "I hope you have a good rest of your day."

    Parker and I leave and I text Mom to let her know we''re done early. She''s here not long after to pick us up, then takes Parker to his house before driving back to ours ¨C we''re actually neighbors with Trey, but the properties are pretty huge. Well, we Gates are, Parker lives in a completely different neighborhood.

    I''m still really bummed that Xander doesn''t like me anymore but I''m happy I was able to help him, even if it made him panic for a bit until he realized he was okay. Mom and Dad are probably going to scold me really hard once Trey tells them.

    Upon entering my room, I drop my backpack by the door, then kick off my shoes and plop myself onto my bed, then scoot back a bit before sitting cross-legged. Xander was probably boxing up what was supposed to be our lunch to still be a good host. I open up the container he gave me and find four large muffins in it. They have bits of what looks like peaches in it. I love peach muffins!

    I pull one of the muffins out, pull off its wrapping, and take a massive bite out of the top. Then feel my eyes widen as I do my best not to scream from the pain while keeping my mouth as shut as possible while forcing down the definitely-peach-muffin-but-also-with-the-flavor-drowned-out.

    "Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmmmmmmmm!"

    My clothes burst as I lightning-charge my body and zap myself out of my room, down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Even Dad shooting me with a bolt of lightning doesn''t stop me much because the only thing I want right now is some milk. As soon I''m there I yank open the fridge, grab the gallon of milk, rip off its lid, and start drinking straight from the jug.

    "Haa. Haa. Haa," I gasp once I''m done. "Hooo."

    "What¡­ was wrong?" Dad asks.

    "I upset Xander and he got revenge."

    Just how strong was the hot sauce he dumped onto the muffins? Even more importantly¡­ just how much did I upset him that he was actually brave enough to do something like that? I''m actually kind of impressed by that, even if it was incredibly painful for me. Despite being full of anxiety and fear, Xander really knows how to express himself when he''s upset!

    He even communicated it to me! Progress!

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    I spent the morning mowing some lawns and other things, then spent most of the afternoon playing games with my online friends. Now it seems I''m home alone as all of the lights are off and my parents are nowhere to be found. Guess that means I''m on my own for dinner.

    Turning on the light in the kitchen, I go to the fridge to see what my parents bought when they went shopping and find that the note I posted on the fridge this morning is still there.

    <u>SHOPPING NEEDED:</u>

    We''re pretty much out of food. Completely. Period.

    Milk ¨C Eggs ¨C Butter ¨C Pasta

    Pasta Sauce ¨C Freezer Meals

    Frozen Pizza ¨C Ramen Noodles

    Fruits ¨C Veggies ¨C Bread ¨C Jelly

    Peanut Butter ¨C Ground Beef

    Chicken ¨C Taco seasoning ¨C Salsa

    Lettuce ¨C Tomato ¨C Onion

    Snacks ¨C Ice Cream ¨C Bacon

    That''s not really everything we''re out of or could get more of and they tend to just buy groceries regardless of what''s on the list so what we end up with doesn''t usually match the lists I put. Though they do sometimes forget to buy stuff that would turn into full meals¡­ like the time they bought four jars of pasta sauce but no pasta. I''m still able to work things into meals usually, I just wish my parents didn''t prefer to order food for themselves or eat out as much as they do.

    The fact that the list is still on the fridge is a bad sign. It means they didn''t leave to go grocery shopping, which I kind of assumed because of the second note that''s on the fridge ¨C which wasn''t there when I got home from doing other stuff.

    We went to the Grand Canyon. Will be back next week. Mom & Dad

    I open the fridge just in case they simply forgot to grab the grocery list but it''s still the same bare thing it was this morning. Enough milk for less than a full cup, half a bag of old shredded lettuce that''s probably going to be a dud tomorrow, half an onion that probably needs thrown out, a quarter of a stick of butter, and¡­ well, I guess the leftover tortellini being gone means it''s not the same as when I left this morning.

    Pulling out my phone, I send a message to the group chat.

    Sig: parents went to GC again sleepover?

    Connor: Time?

    Sig: next week

    Connor: Food?

    Sig: no shopping :( order pizza maybe $15 buy-in will get stuff tom

    Sam: to the rescue!

    Isaac: doing chores can b there @ 7ish

    We agree on about seven, so that gives me two hours of killing time until my friends get here. Mr. Thompson texts and asks me if my parents gave a more specific time for their return this time and I let him know that the note just said ''next week''. The fact that they actually remembered to let me know before leaving is impressive, they usually forget until they''re on the road and I get a text from them.

    The grocery thing was probably just them thinking that they didn''t need groceries since they weren''t going to be here. If they can eat, then so can I. They''re a bit absent-minded about some things.

    I start playing games in the living room while waiting for the others to show up. Without a TV in my bedroom I can''t play on the consoles except out here. It wasn''t even something I needed to buy on my own, my parents got it for me for Christmas last year, though neither of them apparently remember being the one to buy it, wrap it, and put the tag "From: Santa" on it. As long as my chores are done, my homework is done, and my parents aren''t using the TV, I''m allowed to play.

    Since my friends are coming over, I''ll wait to eat until they arrive. The four of us will pool money together to order something for all of us.

    At about six-thirty, the front door is unlocked and opened.

    "Have no fear, food is here!" Connor exclaims as he nearly throws open the door.

    A reusable shopping bag is held in his right hand, and his dad behind him has two of them.

    "I was going to get me stuff tomorrow," I say as I pause my game.

    "I know," Mr. Thompson says as he and Connor enter the house and Connor works his key out of the door. "But you shouldn''t be having to spend the money you''re earning to buy groceries, Sig. You''re thirteen. Told Connor to put his shoes on and we went to the store. He wanted to buy nothing but junk food but I made sure there was some actual food as well."

    "Chips, soda, cookies, candy, and ice cream are real food!" Connor shoves his key into his pocket. "You''ve got dairy, you''ve got sugar, you''ve got fruit depending on what you pick, you''ve got grains¡­ see! Food groups!"

    Mr. Thompson would probably bop Connor on the back of the head if his hands weren''t full. I go out and get Connor''s backpack from the car, then return inside and close the front door and help put away the groceries. Some of this is definitely meant for us boys to eat during the sleepover but I''m pretty sure I can tell what Mr. Caldwell picked.

    "Did you eat yet?" Mr. Caldwell asks once we finish putting the groceries away.

    "Not yet," I say. "Was gonna wait until everyone got here and order some pizza once we figured out what we wanted."

    "We didn''t eat yet, either!" Connor tells me.

    "You two start making patties," Mr. Thompson tells me. "I''ll go get the charcoal, then head around back and start the grill. Make enough for everyone, the other dads said they''d hold off on feeding the boys."

    Mr. Thompson brought charcoal so we can grill? Awesome! Connor and I quickly scrub our hands clean and get to work on making burger patties. Since we''re making thick burgers rather than the thin sort we only prepare seven patties. They bought some seasonings as well so we mix those into the patties, then we clean our hands again and start making onion rings since we have the ingredients.

    The other guys and their dads arrive while we''re bringing the food out to the back so that Mr. Thompson can start grilling (he has a thing on the grill for the onion rings). All of them brought a little bit of food or snacks as well and we enjoy a dinner of burgers, onion rings, chips, and soda. After that, the dads leave but not before giving us a reminder to behave.

    With the dads gone, we roughhouse in the back yard for a bit, then go inside and play video games for a little while. Once we start getting hungry again, we make ourselves some ice cream sundaes using stuff Connor brought and brownies that Sam bought on the way here.

    "Oh!" Connor exclaims as we all return to the living room with our ice cream. "Sig! Dad forgot to ask while we were here but we''re going camping this weekend. Gonna leave Friday morning and return probably Sunday evening. Wanna come?"

    "Sure," I answer. "Tent or cabin?"

    "Tent this time," he answers. "Bring your trunks, there''s a lake we can go swimming in!"

    "Cool!"

    "Wish I could go," Sam says. "There''s a family reunion this weekend that I have to go to. It''s gonna suuuuuck!"

    "Going to my mom''s on Friday so I can''t," Isaac says. "Oh! I found that out today and forgot to tell you guys! I''m going to my mom''s on Friday and won''t be back until next Sunday. Not this one. I''m gonna convince her to take me to an amusement park and see if I can get her onto a roller coaster."

    His mom has no issues taking him to amusement parks¡­ but she''s terrified of roller coasters so that''s just a dream.

    "Can always count on you to not leave me alone," Connor grins. "Would be so boring if no other kids were there."

    "Be careful what you wish for," I grin back. "The other sites might have dozens of small kids."

    "No!" He exclaims as I giggle. "Not again! We are never, ever, ever going to do that again! If we show up and every other camp has a five-year-old or four, I am telling Dad that we are leaving and finding somewhere else to camp!"

    That was a nightmare trip for us and I don''t think his dad would need anyone to tell him to turn around and find somewhere else.

    "Wait, what happened?" Sam asks.

    Sam and Isaac haven''t actually been our friends for that long. Connor and I have been classmates since preschool but became friends back in 2020, so only three years ago. Sam moved into the area last November and we became fast friends with him. Then, he and Isaac met back in January at a meeting for parents struggling to accept their children were or might be gay and became friends and Sam introduced him to us.

    Which actually means that Sam and Isaac haven''t been bowling with us for very long. Originally, Mr. Thompson bowled with Connor and me, but then after we met Sam and he started joining us regularly, the two dads bowled separately and let us bowl alone. Isaac joined us for bowling almost immediately after joining our friend group and found he liked it as a fun activity, just like us.

    Because of that, they haven''t done too much camping with us yet.

    "So last summer," I say. "We got to this one campground and I guess a blogger mom group or something decided to all go camping at that place for the weekend as well. There were nineteen kids who were three to six years old. It was insane and chaotic and almost everyone else who''d booked a trip there asked for a refund."

    "Dad included," Connor says. "We''d booked a week-long trip there thinking it''d be fun and relaxing and ended up being absolute chaos with a bunch of screaming kids who kept coming into our campsite and messing with our stuff. The trip had been booked a year in advance and Dad found out that the mom group had only booked over the course of the previous month. And the campgrounds didn''t bother telling anyone who''d booked long before then that they were going to end up dealing with almost two dozen kids as well."

    "Jeez, that''s awful," Sam says.

    "It was horrible," I say. "I ended up throwing one of the kids."

    "Into others," Connor says. "That was one of the only times the moms actually tried doing anything, and it was to yell at us and say they were going to call the cops."

    "Up until his dad said he''d already done so for neglect," I add. "He even recorded the thing which led to me yanking and tossing the kid."

    "What was it?" Sam asks.

    "He tried reaching into our campfire," I say. "Mr. Thompson was actually recording Connor and me goofing off, it wasn''t like he pulled out his phone to record the kid doing that. I saw what was happening and kind of panicked and grabbed the kid and threw him into his friends, who were all right there. Couldn''t have been older than three. Screamed up a storm and that''s what got the moms over."

    "Dad never said if he called the normal line or the emergency line," Connor says. "But the police were there fast. Apparently, ''a bunch of small children are unattended and keep running towards people using axes and trying to reach into fires'' got their asses moving. He probably said some other stuff, too."

    "Damn," Isaac says. "Those moms were insane."

    "That''s blogger moms for you," Connor says. "Focused more on social media than they are actually being moms."

    "I''m glad I wasn''t there," Isaac says. "At least my mom''s a real mom. Usually. Sometimes she forgets I shouldn''t eat a whole gallon of ice cream and only remembers when I''m done."

    "Your mom would probably let you get away with murder," Sam grins at him.

    "She''d probably help him hide the body!" I giggle.

    Isaac''s mom is awesome, but she lives in another state so I''ve only met her once, when she flew out here for Spring Break. After she left, Isaac told us that she wasn''t being like that just because we were his friends and it was a short trip, that she''s always that fun. The reason his parents divorced was mostly because his dad got a job in another state a few years ago and she didn''t want to move, so they decided to split amicably. Mr. Michaels gained primary custody during the divorce since her job would give her little time to actually care for a kid on her own and Isaac was a little bit too young at the time to be left alone for so long.

    "Guys!" Sam suddenly exclaims. "Let''s hurry and finish the ice cream! I''ve got an idea!"

 Chapter 013

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says as Ms. Katie clears away the dishes from breakfast. "You''ve seen really anxious since your lessons yesterday and I wanted to-"

    "I''m sorry!" I burst out crying. "I know it was wrong and really, really bad of me but I couldn''t help it, I just did it! He made me really mad and I know doing that was really bad and I''m really sorry for breaking the rules! Please don''t beat me! I already put myself on grounding for being a bad boy and I''ll try not to do it again and-"

    I keep going until I run out of apologies, then I just sniffle and cry while staring down at my lap. Mr. Caldwell is quiet for several very long moments and that only makes me more scared of the beating.

    "That''s different from your usual thing," Mr. Caldwell says. "This one sounds like you actually know what you did wrong this time instead of just assuming. What did you do?"

    "Put the leftover hot sauce that Ms. Katie made for your wings on Sunday on peach muffins I gave to Luke."

    We had wings for dinner on Sunday and Ms. Katie made different marinades for each of us, especially since Mr. Caldwell likes really spicy foods and I hate them. She mixed up a batch of hot sauce for his marinade and there was some leftover from what she didn''t put into the marinade for his wings.

    "You¡­ what?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Is that why you''ve been so anxious. Wait. Is that why you were sitting in a corner when I got back from work yesterday?"

    "Yes."

    "Did you know about this?" Mr. Caldwell asks and I sneak a look to see that he''s asking Ms. Katie.

    "I knew he put hot sauce on them," Ms. Katie tells him. "Xander hurried into the kitchen yesterday after classes and asked if he could give Luke and Parker some of the peach muffins we''d made on Sunday. Said they weren''t staying. I gave him a couple of containers and after assuring him that it was fine to use them, he put muffins in. I asked him about the hot sauce and he said ''for Luke'' so I''d assumed Luke had said something. The kid''s always been odd so I wasn''t too surprised."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "You said you did it because you were mad at Luke? Why were you mad?"

    "He tricked me and grabbed me and jumped into the water," I sniffle. "He said he did it because he wanted me to see that the water was fine and I wasn''t gonna drown. I''m really sorry for being a bad boy, Mr. Caldwell! I was just really, really mad at him and I just did it and then realized what I''d done and realized I''d been a bad boy and I''m really sorry I struggle to be a good boy! Please don''t beat me!"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell interrupts. "This is the first I''m hearing about either of those. Let me call Melody real quick."

    Mr. Caldwell pulls out his phone and makes a call, then he sets it to speakerphone before placing it on the table. It rings a couple of times before a woman answers it.

    "Hello, Trey," the woman says. "Are classes canceled this morning? Lucas has been really nervous for some reason but won''t say why."

    "I think I know why," Trey says. "Melody, did Luke say anything about Xander when he got home?"

    "I wasn''t here," she says. "But Tristan did mention something about Lucas zapping his way downstairs to drink milk straight from the jug with the only explanation being that he made Xander mad and Xander got revenge. As much as that boy talks, we somehow couldn''t get the explanation out of him and had to ask Parker¡­ who doesn''t know."

    "Xander gifted him muffins soaked in hot sauce," Trey says. "Hot sauce used to make marinade for wings for me."

    "Oh, dear," she says. "Sweetie, is that why you''re nervous? Because you made Xander mad? Don''t talk with your mouth full, Lucas. No, swallow first, don''t show me the food!"

    "I''m going to put you on hold for a moment," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "That''s fine," Ms. Gates says. "I need to hit my son with lightning."

    She attacks her son? At least Mr. Caldwell doesn''t hit me with lightning, I don''t think I''d survive that. But I''m even more nervous now.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says after tapping something on his phone. "I think I know Luke''s reasoning on doing what he did, though he shouldn''t have done it. Kids make mistakes sometimes. The fact that Luke told his parents that you got revenge on him for making him mad but didn''t elaborate or complain suggests that he''s accepting what you did was justified. Was it appropriate? No, not at all. You should have let me know so I could talk with his parents about it.

    "Now," he continues. "Does this mean you don''t want him around anymore? If you''re scared of him now, then you can tell me and I''ll let Melody know not to bring him over. There''s also no swimming today. Not because of that, it was already planned for you to learn martial arts today, so that you can also learn how to defend yourself."

    I don''t like Luke. But I don''t want to be alone in the room with those men, either, and Luke could probably zap them faster than Roderick could shoot them. And he was trying to think about me when he did that, even if it scared me and I don''t like him anymore.

    "H-he can come," I say. "B-but only if he brings extra snacks. And donuts. Um¡­ sorry! That''s really bad, it''s not my place to say stuff like that ''cause I''m just a kid and kids can''t make demands because it''s wrong and I''m sorryI''msorryI''msorryI''msorry-"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell interrupts. "If that''s your condition for him coming back, then we''ll set it," he taps something on his phone. "Melody?"

    "She''s currently wrangling Lucas," a man says. "What''s up?"

    "Hey, Tristan," Mr. Caldwell says. "What¡­ is Luke doing?"

    "At the moment? Ducking under her arms," Mr. Gates answers. "I think he''s recovered from the rescue efforts. Gotcha! Lucas, sit your butt back down and finish eating. Alright. You were saying, Trey?"

    "What Luke did yesterday," Mr. Caldwell says. "Is decide that trying to get Xander adjusted to the water was too slow and grab him and jump into the pool. It freaked Xander out, naturally, but also made him mad after, so Xander got revenge with the hot sauce, though he''s also apparently grounded himself for the misbehavior. It''s pretty obvious he doesn''t like Luke anymore."

    "I take it that means we''re nixing Lucas coming over?" Mr. Gates asks.

    "Xander said that he''ll accept Luke''s presence as long as Luke brings extra snacks and donuts," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "Mel," Mr. Gates says. "You''ll need to leave a little earlier today, Luke needs to buy donuts for Xander as an apology. No, it was Xander''s request. And before you try to run off to your room, Luke, we need to have a talk about nearly drowning people."

    Mr. Caldwell and Mr. Gates finish their phone call, then Mr. Caldwell tells me to go do my thing, so I return up to the room I''m staying in and wait until it''s time to brush my teeth. When I finally go down to the classroom that was set up, I find Mr. Massey, Roderick, Luke, and Parker inside. Luke and Parker are on the same beanbags as yesterday and there''s a poster hung up on the cork strips.

    The poster is light blue in color with black text that shows the order of operations. A light green decorative border is set around the edges, as if framing the text but without an actual frame.

    I move the beanbag chair I sat on yesterday from beside Luke to beside Parker, then take a seat. Mr. Massey starts the class by handing each of us a paper. The top part has a section for my name, the date, and the class period, then directly below that are directions. Underneath that, the page is divided into three columns without lines actually separating them.

    The column on the left has a bunch of words, and each word has a blank line beside it, which is the second column. The third column is the widest and has a definition in it.

    "Luke, Parker," Mr. Massey says. "These aren''t any of the spelling sheets you''d be getting for class this coming year. I made sure to check that so that you don''t get them earlier. Xander, most schools in the area don''t give spelling lessons to students in the seventh or eighth grade so you probably won''t have those classes anymore in your new school, whatever it is. The school I work at and which these two attend does, so I''m borrowing some sheets from the lower grades. You need help with spelling based on what I saw, so we''ll be starting every Tuesday lesson with some spelling stuff."

    "You''re not good at spelling?" Parker whispers to me.

    "I try my best," I try not to cry.

    "Xander," Mr. Massey says. "Based on what I saw, it seems like you try to spell it the way it sounds like it should be spelled to you. That''s something younger students do, and they learn the proper spelling through school. You can read just fine, but remembering how things are spelled seems to be a struggle. Your old schools apparently never bothered trying to help you learn the correct ones. It''s okay. That''s one of the reasons I''m here to help you, alright?"

    I nod.

    "Luke, Parker," Mr. Massey says. "You two do your worksheets. Make sure to do the backs as well and remember ¨C no looking at the front when working on the back."

    "Yes, sir!" Luke salutes.

    There are backs to these? I flip over the page and find that there is, indeed, a back side. It doesn''t have the spelling words or columns and instead, has twenty sentences, each with a blank line inside of it. The directions at the top says to fill in the blanks using the spelling words from the front, but without looking at the front.

    "Let''s get started, Xander," Mr. Massey says. "We''ll start with the basics and work our way up to more complicated words. The goal is to get you up to where someone who finished the seventh grade should be by the end of summer. That might sound intimidating, especially since that''s a lot of words, but I promise that this is set to be easy, okay?"

    I''m not so sure about that, but I nod.

    "Flip it back to the front," Mr. Massey tells me and I flip the paper over. "Do you know what the vowels are?"

    "Um¡­ that''s another word for your guts, right?"

    "That would be ''bowels''," Mr. Massey tells me. "Easy mistake to make since they sound similar. Vowels are the letters a, e, i, o, u, and sometimes, the letter y. We''ll get into what vowels are in more details later, but what we''ll be starting off with are words that have the vowel ''a'' in them. These are all one-syllable words as well, to start off more simply."

    Mr. Massey goes through the paper with me, including teaching me about how the letter ''a'' can sound differently based on the word, so it''s good to know the variations to help me know how to spell a new word. Today''s spelling words are ''act'', ''art'', ''ant'', ''bat'', ''cat'', ''fat'', ''mat'', ''rat'', ''bag'', ''sag'', ''rag'', ''nag'', ''wag'', ''tag'', ''lag'', ''flag'', ''drag'', ''trap'', ''nap'', and ''ham''. That''s a lot of words for me to keep track of, but Mr. Massey says that he''s certain I''ll be able to learn them all.

    For each one, he has me spell it out aloud, then write it down on the line next to it, then he has me read the definition before spelling it out aloud without looking at the paper. I can look for the definition, not just the second time I spell it out aloud. Then he tells me to do the back page on my own.

    I know I mess up a few times, but I still do my best. Then, Mr. Massey grades all three papers hands them back to us. On the back, I spelled four words wrong. That''s a lot less than I thought, I''d thought I got maybe four right. But when I flip it over to compare, I really did only get four wrong.

    The next half-hour or so involves Mr. Massey teach me about the differences between plural, possessive, and singular, which just makes my head spin a lot. About forty minutes into the class, he lets us take a break to stretch our legs. I''m still confused by that because Luke and Parker don''t really do anything to actually stretch their legs, they just get up and walk a little and maybe do arm and back stretches, but then they sit back down and pull out food.

    Luke did bring donuts, and he offers them to me along with some milk and cookies and what he calls ''blond brownies'' which don''t look like brownies at all. They''re not brown, either. Parker has veggies, chips, and pretzels, which he shares with us. Everything comes in a little plastic container just like yesterday, instead of plastic baggies or the bags they came in. I''m a little confused by that but don''t ask questions.

    After the five-minute break ends, Mr. Massey quizzes me on the spelling words again, then hands me a new spelling worksheet.

    "Don''t be too intimidated," Mr. Massey tells me. "Forty words is normally more than we''d do but the goal of these classes is to help you catch up. This plan was arranged to make it easier for you to catch up, but not overwhelm you. If you feel overwhelmed, just tell me and I''ll slow it down some, alright? But please give it a try first, okay?"

    I nod, then Mr. Massey starts the second session. He gives me a brief lesson on syllables, then explains that this one will be two-syllable words with two vowels, one or both of which is the letter ''a''. This list has the words ''trapped'', ''trapping'', ''angel'', ''angle'', ''arrow'', ''apron'', ''adopt'', ''acre'', ''answer'', ''alter'', ''altar'', ''adjust'', ''artist'', ''anchor'', ''after'', ''baffle'', ''ballad'', ''basket'', ''dragon'', and ''handle''. Another twenty words, most of which start with ''a'' or ''b'' for some reason.

    Once we finish the worksheet (I mess up nine of the words on the back), Mr. Massey continues the lesson on plurals, singulars, and possessives. He quizzes all three of us on it during and even gives us candy every fifth correct answer we give. That makes the class kind of fun.

    I''m given a couple of worksheets to do as homework when the lesson ends, so I put those up in the room I''m staying in and return downstairs for the martial arts lesson, which is in the double room. Coach Evan is here again, and he issues the three of us martial arts uniforms to put on, then leaves for a minute so that we can change.

    "Hey, Xander!" Luke exclaims while we''re changing. "Check this out!"

    As much as I don''t want to I turn to look at him and his back is still to me. He''s stripped down to his anti-lightning leotard and I''m a bit confused by what he wants me to see. Then sparks form on the zipper and it starts moving downward.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "You know how to use telekinesis," Parker says. "And you''re not even taking that off!"

    The zipper is just moving up and down right now.

    "Well, yeah!" Luke responds. "But this is much cooler. Right, Xander?"

    As much as I don''t like Luke¡­

    "Right."

    I turn back around so I can finish changing, though I don''t know how to keep the front closed. Thankfully, Parker shows me how to keep it closed¡­ by using a belt. It apparently has a specific way that it''s supposed to be tied as well so he shows me how to tie it. Mine is white while theirs is black, though our uniforms are all identical otherwise: white pants and top.

    "If you''re wondering about the differences in belts," Luke tells me while Parker pokes his head out of the room to inform Coach Evan that we''re done changing. "It''s because Parker and I are already trained. Our school has martial arts as one of its required classes and Coach also teaches it. Under his instruction, we''ve both reached our black belts. For our school, the belt color is a pure indicator of our skill level. White just means you''re a beginner. Some martial arts studios will require service hours to advance belt ranks, taking tests on honor and dignity and whatnot, or other such things. But our school''s class just does it based on our actual level of skill. Black belt is sort of the highest, but there are different degrees for it. Parker and I are both first-degree, meaning we''re the lowest level of black belt. Coach is a sixth-degree black belt. The academy actually works with a proper martial arts studio, too, so training from there carries over to the school and training from the school carries over to there. So if we graduate and want to attend the studio, we''ll keep our rank. Or if we take extra lessons there, we will as well. Also-"

    "That''s enough, Luke," Coach Evan says. "Let''s get started with some warm-ups."

    Coach Evan walks us through some warm ups, though I struggle for a lot of them. Once we''re done, he goes through several strikes, kicks, and blocks. Every five moves he teaches, he has us practice them while correcting our forms a little. I get nervous when he moves close to me, but he quickly moves back and asks Parker to help me. That still makes me uncomfortable since Parker has to touch me to adjust my positioning, but at least it''s not an adult.

    After teaching fifteen moves, Coach has us practice them all again, then puts up some pad-like gloves and has us punch each once, then move to the back of the line to wait our next turn. I don''t want to do that. What if I hit him in the face by accident? But if I don''t do this then I''ll get into trouble for not listening to directions.

    "Remember," Coach tells me. "Don''t bend your wrist, Xander. Keep it straight when you punch. And if you miss, that''s also okay. You''re new at this, it''s normal to make mistakes."

    I nod, then try to do the punches. I kind of miss the first one and only hit the edge of it, but I manage to get my full left fist to connect when I punch with that hand. Coach has us do this five times, then tells us to kick instead. We kick with each foot five times, then he has us practice blocking an attack. First he pairs me up with Parker and tells me to slowly punch toward Parker, who will block.

    This part scares me and freaks me out and it takes me everything I have to not scream and run away when it''s my turn to practice blocking, especially once Luke is my offensive partner. Coach has us practice blocking from each of the other two boys. Unlike for me, where the movements are slow so that Coach can help me out, Parker and Luke go fast.

    Sparks start forming in Luke''s hair while he practices punching and kicking at Parker. I wasn''t doing any practice kicks or kick-blocks against them but they were told to do so with each other.

    "Hold!" Parker jumps back. "Luke, you''re sparking!"

    "I am?" Luke looks down at himself. "I don''t see any sparks."

    "Your hair, doofus."

    Luke reaches up and feels his hair.

    "Oh!" He starts rubbing his hair and the sparks fade away. "That happens a lot lately. Dunno why. Well, whatever! Let me kick you in the face!"

    "No!" Parker blocks the sudden kick that Luke aims at his face.

    "Give them a minute to burn through their energy," Coach Evan tells me as he steps closer to me and the two of them kick and punch at each other. "Go ahead and have a seat. You were flinching a lot even with the slower punches."

    I''m glad for being able to sit down, but now I''m being scolded at the same time because I kept flinching!

    "S-sorry!"

    "It''s okay," Coach Evan tells me while gesturing for me to sit, so I do. "I just wanted to say that this is why I told them to move more slowly for you. You''re new to this and afraid of being attacked, so it''s normal to flinch if someone is moving a fist closer to you. The slower movements I''m having them do for you is so that you can get used to it, so that you can eventually start practicing faster. Hope you never need to defend yourself, but train in case you ever do. That''s one of the purposes of this."

    "Okay."

    "Are you sore from yesterday?"

    "Yes."

    "That''s normal," Coach Evan says. "Your body did a bunch of stuff that it''s not used to and your muscles need to recover. Everyone goes through those pains. It''ll get worse over the next couple of days, and then start to feel better. That''s part of why we chose to have this lesson right before lunch, so that you can get some protein and fuel put back into you right after to help your recovery."

    "Okay."

    "Tomorrow," he says. "Will be a fitness day. It''s mostly stretching and exercises. Thursday will be playing games outside, mostly throwing stuff around, and Friday will be another martial arts lesson. That will give you five days of fitness-type classes, but it might be too much for you to handle. If it is and you need a break, just let me know. Your body isn''t used to this sort of thing, so it will take time to build up stamina and endurance, especially with your current physical condition. Just let me know if it''s too much or if you need a break, okay?"

    Him saying that makes me realize something about yesterday''s class.

    "I-is that why you had me float for awhile?" I ask. "B-because I was tired?"

    "Yes," he nods. "And this break is giving you some time to rest as well. You may not be able to go the full lesson without a break by the end of the summer, but that isn''t the goal. The goal with the physical classes is to help you build up stamina and strength and give you some basic self-defense and swimming skills. Don''t be afraid of making mistakes with us, we''ll do our best to help you learn. Alright?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "Alright," he says. "You can rest for a few more minutes, then we''ll start the next part if you''re ready to continue."

    The next part turns out to be mostly practice and by the end of the class, I''m soaked in sweat and really need a shower.

    "Hey, Xander?" Luke asks once Coach Evan dismisses us.

    "Y-yes?"

    "Do we get to stay for lunch today?" Luke asks. "Or should we go?"

    The cookies he brought were really delicious and I know he has some left. If he stays, I might get to eat more of them. If he stays, I might also get thrown in a pool again. Or have my breathing process stopped by him again. And he did have two cheesecakes brought for me yesterday as an apology.

    I don''t like him, but he can stay. This time.

    "Yes," I answer.

    "Awesome!" He says. "We''re gonna go use the shower at the pool, then we''ll head to the dining room."

    I nod, then go up to the room I''m staying in so I can get cleaned up.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    Xander seemed really hesitant to ask for more food during lunch, but Katie seemed to know he was still hungry and asked him if he wanted more. That got him to answer yes¡­ all three times he was asked it. He''s not even a mage and he eats like one. I''m impressed.

    "Hey, Xander?" I ask once everything is cleared away, and he suddenly looks frightened. "Do you know what school you''re attending when it starts again?"

    There are four private schools in the area. There''s the one that Parker and I attend, which is an all-boys school, then there''s an all-girls school that''s a sister school to ours, another all-boys school, and one that''s got both boys and girls at it. The all-girls school is out since Xander''s a boy, so it''s going to be one of the other three.

    Our school and the sister school are kind of pricey and I''m not sure how rich Trey actually since since he doesn''t deal in magitech. Spending $100,000 to send a kid to school might be too expensive even with how much he makes. Just because someone''s a millionaire, that doesn''t mean they can just send their kid to an expensive school. On top of that, if Xander does get to stay with Trey, then he''d probably end up going to the related high school ¨C and ours is $150,000 a year. That''s an even higher price that I''m certain is out of Trey''s budget.

    The co-ed school is the cheapest choice so it''s probably within Trey''s pool of options. They charge $40,000 a year and their related high school is $60,000 a year. Of course, that lower price comes with fewer amenities and stuff, but it''s still a private school. They''re high-quality. Again, I''m not sure Trey''s finances since I don''t really know the non-magitech market that well but I''m certain it''s within his budget. He lives in this house, after all.

    Then there''s the other private boys'' school. Thinking about it, that might actually be the better option even if it has the potential to strain Trey''s budget a little. It costs $60,000 a year and the related high school is $90,000 a year, but many of the boys there have dealt with some degree of abuse. Many, not most. The school was tailor-made to help boys who have suffered at the hands of one or both of their parents and who need a haven.

    Well, actually, it was set up for parents who suspected or knew their sons were gay and wanted a place they could attend without having to deal with bullying over it. But then word got out that it was a safe haven with a strict zero-tolerance policy for any kind of bullying and which offered a lot of counseling services to the students who needed it. That resulted in a lot of parents who recently gained custody of their sons from the other parent after finding out the kid was abused sending their sons there as well.

    I''m pretty sure that''s the most likely choice even if it might be too expensive to send Xander there. It''s literally a safe haven, so Xander will probably feel safe there once he starts to figure it out on his own. I don''t think telling him that he''s safe really does that.

    My parents went with the most expensive school because it was the best in the area and money isn''t really something they worry about. In fact, my school district is one of the best private school systems in the country. They earn that high tuition of theirs.

    "DFMS," comes Xander''s response without even a moment of hesitation or thought.

    "DFMS¡­ Dragon Falls Middle School?" I ask, and he nods. "That''s¡­ the public school, though. It''s not the one you went to before, right? Are you just saying that ''cause you''re in Dragon Falls now?"

    "I asked Mr. Caldwell."

    "Why would he send you to public school?"

    "Luke," Parker interrupts. "You''re making him uncomfortable."

    I realize that he''s right, Xander''s squirming a little and looking really uncomfortable. This was just really confusing for me and I ended up not thinking about how Xander felt. This is why I struggle to make friends and I hate that I keep goofing up when I try! I was just wanting to talk to Xander about school and see if he was excited for it and all I did was make him uncomfortable.

    "Well," I say. "DFMS doesn''t even have a magic class, they probably can''t afford to pay a magic teacher and enchant a room for it or whatever."

    "Luke!" Parker says.

    "I''m not done!" I say. "Hold on! I''m not trying to shame the school! They don''t have a magic class at all. But! Anyone can learn magic, even people with almost no mana at all. If you want, I can teach you some super basic tricks, Xander. There are some really simple magic exercises that take almost no mana at all. They''re useful for building up mana and magical stamina but also for getting used to accessing your mana."

    "Don''t wanna learn lightning," Xander mumbles. "Too loud."

    So he doesn''t like loud sounds? Oof. My babbling probably bothers him more than just from the babbling itself, then. I sometimes get kind of loud at times as well.

    "Lightning magic is the classification for all electric magic," I say. "It''s not always loud. Like when my hair was sparking earlier! It was just small crackles, right? Like the zaps you''d hear if you got hit with static electricity."

    "I''m too worthless for static electricity to happen to."

    "Static electricity discriminates against none," I say. "Besides, if you were worthless, Trey wouldn''t have taken you in. He wouldn''t have even noticed you. That''s a weird thing to say. It''s not like you''re trash. Anyway, back to lightning magics. Mostly, the sound is just zaps and crackles because you''re really just using electricity for the magic. Actual full-on lightning spells more rare. Well, technically. My parents hit me in the face with lightning at home all the time so you get the big booms for those but for the most part, lightning mages use weaker spells that have smaller sounds. I don''t even power up my lightning-charge body all the way, so it really just makes more of a zapping sound when I move rather than a boom. Oh! And don''t think my parents are abusing me by shooting me with lightning in the face, I''m completely immune to lightning. It literally cannot hurt me. Think of that as a way of flicking me in the face. From a distance."

    Parker coughs into his fist.

    "Oh, right, back on track," I say. "Anyway, I might be a natural lightning mage due to my bloodline, but it''s not the only magic I can use. Everyone can use all magics, as long as they have the mana and training for it. Good bloodlines just make it easier. Almost no one can use teleport magics because they''re so mana-intensive and complicated, but it can be learned with enough time and training. Usually years. But there are some bloodlines that actually make it easier because the family is so adapted to using dimensional spells. Mom thinks she knows of someone from one of those. It''s a ten-year-old kid who occasionally teleports in and steals power cores. Well, he does leave money behind, but whatever. Like, if you''re ten and you can teleport so casually, you''re definitely from an old and powerful family of mages that has an affinity for dimensional magics in your bloodline. Actually, Mom said he''s from a branch family from the one that owns the Lumaria Group, so it kind of makes sense. His birth was probably him teleporting out of the womb."

    Parker coughs into his fist again.

    "Sorry, went off a little," I say. "Anyway, everyone can cast all types of magic, it just takes time and training. For families that are used to casting one specific type of magic over several generations, that can turn into a magical bloodline that makes it easier to cast spells. I''m from two such bloodlines, both of which have a high affinity for lightning magic. My dad''s also has an affinity for fire and my mom''s got one for air, and I gained a little of both of those as well."

    Xander looks at me and seems like he''s concentrating on something. Since he''s not actually saying anything, I continue on.

    "Parker, on the other hand," I tell Xander. "Has a mom who''s an earth mage and a dad who''s a fire mage. His mom''s second-gen and his dad''s first-gen. Oh, right. Your gen, or generation, is basically how many generations before you also cast that type of magic, plus one. So second-gen means one or both of her parents used earth magics as an actual earth mage rather than just as a thing, and his dad didn''t come from a fire mage parent. Actually, I think his dad was the first mage in his family."

    "And my mom was a third-gen mage," Parker says. "But a second-gen earth mage. Her grandmother was a mage but wasn''t really specialized."

    "Right," I say. "Anyway, if that''s too confusing for you, don''t worry about it too much. You''ll eventually understand it better the more you interact with mages, if you do. So since I come from an old and established pair of families, there was already the magical bloodline developed, so I inherited it. In fact, it ended up even stronger when my parents'' bloodlines mixed together for me.

    "Parker, on the other, doesn''t have that," I tell Xander. "But he does have an earth magic affinity in his bloodline, something his mom doesn''t have. He''s the first in his line to have what''s considered an actual magical bloodline and it''s given him an advantage with earth magics. But he didn''t inherit his father''s fire affinity, so he still has to spend more effort on fire spells."

    Xander frowns and looks at Parker with the same look of concentration as before. I think he''s just confused by my explanation of magical bloodlines, though. It''s probably a lot for him to take in and what I said probably blurred together.

    "Anyway," I say. "None of that''s really important. What''s important is the point ¨C you can still learn any type of magic, even with a magical bloodline or even if you don''t have one. Do you want me to teach you something basic? It''s really easy and can be fun to play with if you''re bored. I do it all the time."

    Xander looks down and frowns a little bit more. Then he starts mumbling, and I can barely hear it.

    "Trey, the dork, and now Luke," he mumbles. "In a week. Three and seven. Good numbers. Signs come in threes. But it''s magic. And Luke. I don''t want to learn from him. And Parker''s only earth? Stupid brain."

    Trey warned me (well, my parents) that Xander tends to mumble a lot when he''s confused or nervous and is trying to work through his thoughts and that he thinks Xander isn''t aware that he''s doing it. He also did it a lot during the tests yesterday and today in the first class for each. I was told to pretend like I didn''t notice because it might cause Xander''s anxiety to increase.

    That''s why I''m pretty sure he wasn''t actually confused when he was looking at Parker while confused: he wasn''t mumbling to himself.

    "You don''t have to agree," I tell Xander. "Or even give me an answer. Just think about it. You can even ask Trey if you want to learn magic, he''d probably find you an instructor. Heck, he''d probably even try hiring our school''s magic teacher, though summer lessons from him would probably cost even more than from Mr. Massey or Coach Evan, so he''d probably go with a more normal teacher than one who''s written four published papers on magical theory. But if you do and you want to learn some awesome magic fun things, I''m willing to teach you some neat tricks! Anyway, thanks for having us over again, Xander! See you tomorrow?"

    Xander squirms in his seat for a moment, then hops out of and it starts to go to the kitchen. Katie hands him a container and he stares at it for a few moments, then she softly says something to him while pointing toward me.

    "Oh," Xander softly says, but loudly enough I can hear it.

    He comes back over to the table and gives me the box.

    "Bye."

    Then he hurries out of the room and out of sight. For a few moments, I stare after him, a little confused. I turn to the container and open it up and find four more muffins.

    "He felt really bad for doing that to you yesterday," Katie tells me. "I anticipated him wanting to give you ones to make it up so whipped up a fresh batch while you guys were in class."

    "Oh! I was wondering why it smelled like muffins in here! Thanks!"

    "You''re welcome," she smiles. "Have a good day, Luke, Parker."

    "Bye!" I tell her, then leave with Parker. "Do you have anything today? If not, we can walk over to my place instead of calling Mom to pick us up."

    "Sure," Parker says. "Pick any game you want, I''m gonna kick your butt."

 Chapter 014

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell asks after knocking on the door to the bedroom. "Are you in there?"

    "Yes," I try to make sure I''m loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough I''ll get beaten for yelling at him.

    "Can I come in?"

    Why would he ask that? It''s not like I own the room or anything, it''s his house. I would very much prefer if he didn''t come in but I know there''s no choice. He can enter regardless of my wants.

    "Yes."

    Mr. Caldwell opens the door and stops almost as soon as he''s inside the room.

    "Are those your savings?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    I currently have all of my savings spread out on the floor. Normally, I would try to keep the money hidden but Mr. Caldwell''s made it pretty clear that he knows I have it and he probably knows where I keep it. He could take it any time he wanted and there''s nothing I could do to stop him.

    "Yes," I answer.

    "What are you doing?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Um¡­ counting?" I answer. "I-I''m sorry! I''ll put it all away! Please don''t confiscate it!"

    "I''m not going to confiscate it," Mr. Caldwell sits down on the other side of the money. "I''m just curious, it''s not what I was expecting you to be doing. You''re counting how much you have?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod.

    "Mind if I ask?"

    Is this actually him wanting to know or am I able to not answer?

    "Um¡­ I don''t know?"

    "Oh," he says. "Did I interrupt your counting?"

    "I¡­ keep messing up," I feel my face heat up.

    Why am I so bad at this?

    "Would you like some help?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    I really don''t want him touching my money because he''ll probably take some of it. At the same time, though¡­ it might take me another hour to figure this out.

    "O-okay."

    "You have the money scattered around," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Rather than organized in some fashion. I see you have mostly ones, fives, and tens, but also plenty of twenties as well. Hm. Actually, that''s a lot. Before you started going to the bowling alley, were you putting twenty into your stash each week?"

    "U-usually."

    There were other sources from it as well, such as Christmas and my birthday and the occasional bonus allowance I or everyone at the home received.

    "Alright," he says. "It looks like you put the cash to the bundle or pile or whatever whenever you add more to it. You do have the bills lined up neatly in rows for counting, but you probably put them down in the order they were in for your stash. Is that correct?"

    "Y-yes."

    How could he tell all of that? Is Mr. Caldwell psychic? Then he probably came in here to stop me. Now I''m mad at myself. I should have just asked if I could go to the store and hoped I had enough money.

    "Are you trying to count it by adding up the numbers in the order they''re shown?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Starting from one side and going to the other?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "And you''re doing it without a calculator?"

    "I''m allowed to use one?"

    "You can use your phone as you see fit as long as you aren''t doing anything illegal," Mr. Caldwell says. "It should have a calculator on it. However, another way that may end up faster, Xander, is to organize the bills. Why don''t you gather up the ones and put them in a pile, gather up the fives and put them in a second pile, gather up the tens and put them into a third pile, and gather up the twenties and put them into a fourth?"

    Though I''m not really sure why Mr. Caldwell wants me to do that, I follow his instructions. Once I have the four piles created, Mr. Caldwell tells me to separate each pile into smaller piles, those piles having ten bills in them each but only for that number. If I have extra bills that can''t make up a pile of ten, they receive their own pile, but only with others of the same value. Denomination. That''s the word he uses and I think it means value.

    "Now," Mr. Caldwell says. "Does this look a little chaotic to you?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Let''s make it more simple, then," he says. "How many full piles of twenties do you have? That is, how many of them have ten bills in them? Exclude the one with fewer."

    "Um¡­" I count the piles. "Seven."

    "There are ten bills in each pile, right?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Yeah," where is he going with this?

    "What''s seven times ten?"

    "Um¡­" I can''t remember.

    "Remember, when multiplying a whole number by ten, put a zero at the end."

    "Seven¡­ and zero¡­ sevenzero? No. Seventy?"

    "Seventy," Mr. Caldwell nods. "And how many bills are in the pile of twenties with less than ten?"

    "Eight."

    "What''s seventy plus eight?"

    I think for a few moments.

    "Seventy-eight?"

    "Correct," Mr. Caldwell answers. "So you have seventy-eight twenty-dollar-bills. Do you want to try doing the math in your head for this, or use the calculator on your phone? It''s seventy-eight times twenty."

    What was the way to do bigger numbers? Break it down into smaller parts? Seventy and eight, plus two and zero. Um¡­ seven times two is fourteen. Add a zero. One hundred forty. Then eight times two is sixteen, plus zero. That''s one hundred sixty. Plus¡­ what was the first one? I just had it¡­ I''m so fucking stupid. I can''t even do simple math. Why am I so awful?

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "You can use your phone''s calculator if you''re having trouble."

    I don''t want to admit I''m stupid to Mr. Caldwell but I don''t think I''m going to be able to solve this otherwise. Pulling out the phone, I unlock it and access the calculator. Since the calculator does it all, I don''t need to break it down. Seventy-eight times twenty is one thousand five hundred sixty.

    That''s not right. Wasn''t my math only in the hundreds? What did I do wrong? I break the problem down on the calculator. Seventy times twenty is one thousand four hundred and eight times twenty is one hundred sixty. What did I have when I did it on my own? I can''t remember, I''m so fucking stupid!

    Mr. Caldwell interrupts my frustration to have me move on to the tens. Four full piles of ten-dollar-bills and a pile of six of them. Forty-six. This one, I can do in my head since I just add a zero to the end. That''s four hundred sixty. I still do it on the calculator to be sure but find that I was correct.

    Next are the five-dollar bills, with two full stacks and nine in the third. Twenty-nine. I fail the math on that one and the calculator tells me that it''s one hundred forty-five. The last one doesn''t need more math than adding up the whole stacks and the partial. Two whole stacks and three additional. Twenty-three, but that''s times one so it''s the same number. Twenty-three dollars.

    Then, Mr. Caldwell has me put all of it into the phone''s calculator to get the total amount. Well, he suggests trying it in my head first but I fail that so I switch to the calculator. Two thousand one hundred eighty-eight dollars. That should be enough for what I want to buy.

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell says my name in an asking fashion as I gather up the bills.

    "Yes?"

    "You seem satisfied," he says. "I get the impression you were wanting to buy something? Mind if I ask what it was?"

    "New clothes."

    "New clothes?"

    I get scared here but I know I have to be honest so I try to explain it in a way that won''t get me into trouble.

    "Luke was looking in the closet yesterday and got really confused about me only having around ten sets of clothes," I tell Mr. Caldwell. "And he mentioned that he''d bought twenty-three new outfits last week. Well, he said fifty, I think? But Parker said twenty-three. I think it was twenty-three. I might be wrong. Sorry. Then I remembered that most of the other boys at the home have more clothes than I do, too. Nick''s dresser was packed full of them right after laundry day while mine had plenty of extra space. And you only bought me two outfits when we went shopping. And I was thinking that maybe it''s because I''m such a really bad boy and that maybe it would be okay if I spent some of my savings and allowance on it and-"

    "Breathe, Xander," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Take deep breaths. You''re getting worked up. Deep breaths. In¡­ out¡­ like that. In¡­ out¡­ and again. In¡­ out¡­ Feeling calmer now?"

    "A-a little."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "I tried to get you to pick a third shirt and pair of pants you liked. You were uncomfortable with me spending so much money on you even though it was just a few pieces of clothes."

    "I''m sorry."

    "It''s just the way you are, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "And it reminds me of the reason I was looking for you."

    "S-sir?"

    "Don''t be so worried," he says. "I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to buy bowling shoes. That way, you don''t have to use a pair from the alley every time you go and let them hold your shoes. And no, this won''t come out of your allowance or savings, Xander. This is an expense for your bowling hobby. We can get you more clothes while we''re doing that if you want."

    He''ll let me buy me more clothes?

    "Okay."

    I pick up my emergency stash and tuck it away, and within five minutes, Mr. Caldwell and I are on the way to a store. It''s a large clothing store and not the one we went to before. The first place he takes me once we''re inside is to the clothing department so that I can examine some outfits. Seeing the price tags makes me nervous about the price.

    Even though Mr. Caldwell didn''t tell me that there''s a budget or count limitation, there has to be, right? He made sure I knew on the way here that he was definitely buying me more clothes today since I want more.

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says after I pass over another shirt. "Is everything alright?"

    Everything is not alright. I don''t think there has ever been a time in my life that everything has been alright.

    "The shirt was ugly," I mutter.

    That was truth.

    "It can be hard to find long-sleeved shirts that aren''t dress shirts right now," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "But they do carry some. I think I see them there."

    I follow Mr. Caldwell to the spot he mentioned and confirm that there are some long-sleeved shirts. After touching them and their insides, I determine that their texture is one I won''t be comfortable with, so I move on. It takes awhile, but I finally find some pants and shirts that I''m comfortable with. Nothing to bold or bright, their textures nice against my skin, and three outfits total. Or would it be more if I mixed and matched them?

    Mr. Caldwell seems bothered by something, so I stop at three outfits. Picking a third one was just to see if he''d be okay with it and it seems he''s not but won''t say anything. Four would definitely push it. I''ll wait a week or two, until he''s had enough time to forget that he prevented me from spending my emergency stash, and then ask if I can have Quinn take me to the store.

    After the clothes I pick out are put into the cart, Mr. Caldwell asks if I want to try them on but I shake my head. These are the ones that felt right to me so I know they''ll fit. Better to wash them before putting them on.

    We go to the shoe department and Mr. Caldwell first has me look at new shoes for everyday wear. I''m not sure why, but I settle on a pair of black and grey sneakers with some dark green bits. Not too bright or bold and they look nice. They might go with my outfit. Or not. I''m pretty sure I have bad taste.

    Next up are bowling shoes and to my surprise, I find myself drawn to a pair that are mostly black and dark grey, but which has a bright green stripe-like pattern on them. It stands out a lot but I think it looks really cool and now I''m conflicted. Standing out isn''t allowed.

    They''re what Mr. Caldwell gets me, then he looks for a pair for himself. Not in the same style as the ones for me to use, which relieves me. That would be really creepy.

    Once the shoes are picked out, Mr. Caldwell takes me to the front so that he can pay. It seems like he wants to say something but he doesn''t. I''m glad for that because it''s probably over me picking three outfits instead of two.

    "It''s almost time to go bowling," Mr. Caldwell tells me after he pays and we''re heading out to the SUV. "Do you want to go tonight? We can head straight there if you want instead of going back to the house to drop the clothes off."

    "I-I can go even though I was bad?"

    "Are you talking about the hot sauce incident?" Mr. Caldwell asks, and I nod. "You punished yourself plenty for that, Xander. You felt guilty, you made it up to Luke when you saw him again, and no real harm was done. If it hadn''t been for what he''d done yesterday, he''d have brushed it off as you attempting to pull a prank on him but not understanding how pranks really work. Yes, you can go to bowling tonight."

    "Okay."

    "Do you want to drop the clothes off first?" He asks. "Or head to the alley now?"

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "C-can we go now?"

    Mr. Caldwell nods, then we put the cart away and get into the car. When we reach the bowling alley, Mr. Caldwell removes the tags from both pairs of bowling shoes, but tells me to carry them inside so that we don''t wear them in the parking lot. I''m not sure why that is bad but I do as he says.

    "Hey, Xander," Lena says. "Are those your own bowling shoes?"

    "Y-yes," I answer. "Mr. Caldwell bought them for me."

    "They look cool," she says. "You look like you have a question?"

    "I haven''t seen Erik again."

    Even though I''ve only been here twice since the time I saw him including this time, I feel like I should have seen him again when either arriving or leaving. Despite that, I haven''t.

    "He was fired," she tells me. "He was constantly rude to younger guests and we don''t allow that here."

    That''s a relief. I got bad vibes from him. It''s wrong of me to say that, though, because then people think I''m accusing them of things.

    "So," she says. "What''ll it be today?"

    "Two players for two hours," Mr. Caldwell tells her.

    They do the transaction while I look around. My gut says there''s something interesting here and¡­ is that Ms. Johnson?

    "Mr. Caldwell?" I whisper when he''s ready to go to our lane, a little scared.

    Asking for things is bad. It''s very, very, very bad. But I really want to do it.

    "What''s up?" He asks.

    "Can I go say hi to Ms. Johnson?"

    "Ms. Johnson is here?" He looks over. "Sure, we can go say hello."

    We walk over to Ms. Johnson, who''s on Lane 9 at the moment. She''s most of the way through a game and is mostly scoring 5s and 6s with some 4s and 7s. I think that means she''s an okay player? But I don''t think she bowls very often.

    I stop walking once we reach her lane and wait for her to finish the frame (Mr. Caldwell told me that''s what each round of a game is called). When she turns around, she looks surprised to see us.

    "Oh, hello, Xander," she says. "Is this the bowling alley you go to?"

    I nod.

    "You didn''t know?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "We''d assumed it was the one only ten minutes from the home by walking," she says. "Considering his situation and the fact that he always came back safe and sound, we decided not to press."

    "Fair enough," Mr. Caldwell says. "Pretty surprising to see you here, though. Come often?"

    "No," she answers. "I don''t get to go out much other than my vacations, but one of the floaters is covering for me. An old friend asked if I''d like to go bowling with him and some friends here at eight-thirty tonight. We know each other professionally and I decided I could use a break. I showed up early so I could get some practice in before he shows up. Coming earlier now, Xander?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "Mr. Caldwell rents the lane for two hours."

    "That''s nice," she says.

    "Yeah."

    "The boys liked the cinnamon rolls you brought us," she tells me. "I have to admit, those were pretty darn good compared to the ones we normally served."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Ms. Katie said it''s her own recipe, but she let me help her measure and do the filling and roll them up and cut them. And I didn''t drop stuff too much."

    Ms. Johnson laughs, though I''m not sure why. I don''t think I said anything funny.

    "Are you settling in alright?" She asks. "You like living there?"

    "Mr. Caldwell hasn''t beaten me yet," I say. "Even though I was a really bad boy."

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell sighs. "As I told you earlier, if it weren''t for what he''d done to you yesterday, Luke would have thought that was you attempting a prank on him. You weren''t ''a really bad boy''. Maybe a little bad, but not really bad. And do you remember the discussion we had after I returned from work today? About what is and isn''t appropriate to do when you''re mad? That''s all I saw necessary for the situation."

    "Mind if I ask what he did?" Ms. Johnson asks. "Is Luke a new friend?"

    "I hired a couple of teachers from one of the private middle schools to help Xander get caught up on things," Mr. Caldwell tells her. "Including preparing him academically and helping him with getting into shape, since he''s concerned about not being smart or strong. One of the things I suggested was swimming lessons so that he would know how to swim if he ever needed it, to reduce the risk of drowning."

    "And he agreed?"

    "He did," Mr. Caldwell answers. "And Luke is the son of a friend of mine and one of our neighbors. I asked if he and his friend would be willing to sit in on the lessons with Xander so that it''s not just him and adults in the room and Luke agreed. Yesterday was the first swimming lesson and he grabbed Xander and jumped into the pool in an attempt at helping Xander get over his fears. He decided that the slow and steady approach we were going to try wasn''t good and decided to try and make it happen faster with the head-on approach. Xander got angry at him¡­ and gave him muffins soaked in hot sauce. Very hot sauce."

    Ms. Johnson is quiet for a few moments¡­ then she starts laughing. Even Mr. Caldwell chuckles a little, but I''m really confused. What was funny?

    "We''ll let you get back to your game," Mr. Caldwell says. "See you, Ms. Johnson."

    "See you," she says. "Have fun. You too, Xander."

    "Thank you," I say.

    Mr. Caldwell leads me over to the concessions area and we place our food orders for tonight, then make our way down to Lane 20 and change into the new bowling shoes.

    "Lena said we should make a few practice slides with our shoes before starting," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "So go through the steps as if you were taking your turn, but don''t do it with a bowling ball. Do it a few times."

    I''m not sure why I should do this, but I do as Mr. Caldwell says, then pick out a bowling ball while he does the same thing. Mr. Caldwell then picks out a bowling ball for himself, then we put our names into the computer and start the game.

    The other boys show up at about eight-thirty, like usual, and they seem extra hyper today. Even the black-haired boy with more magic is more active than usual and he''s the tame one out of the four.

    "Alright, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says once we finish our first game. "I''m going to head to the restroom, I''ll be back soon."

    I nod, then sit down to snack while Mr. Caldwell goes to use the restroom. While he''s gone, I try to subtly watch the other boys. Didn''t the father of one of them give me their names last week? Even if I''d paid attention, I''d probably be struggling to remember them.

    If I''m remembering correctly, his son''s name was¡­ Donner? No, that''s a reindeer. But I suppose it''s possible he named his kid after after Donner. It''s not like Donner is a bad reindeer. He''s actually really nice even to me, a boy who''s always bad and getting into trouble.

    Though getting him to stop licking my head is hard. I don''t like that and it makes me uncomfortable and Santa usually has to step in and stop him. Then I discover that where he licked, the dye is missing, so I re-dye it in the morning before most everyone else wakes up.

    What was I doing again? Oh, right, trying to remember the names of the other boys. There was the one I think is named Donner, and¡­ Pam? No, that''s a girl''s name. Dan? Yeah, I think his name was Dan.

    Those are the boys with brown hair. I think Donner is the one with blue eyes since I remember that the dad who spoke to me had blue eyes. I could be wrong, though. The other brown-haired boy has brown eyes, but I''m pretty sure that''s the Dan.

    Then there are the two black-haired boys. The one with less mana and the one with more. I think the one with less mana is named Zeke? Pretty sure his name had a ''zz'' sound in it. So Zeke sounds right to me.

    Finally, there''s the black-haired boy with a little bit more mana than the rest, the one who catches my attention a lot. I don''t know why he always draws my attention but he has ever since I first started noticing him, when his mana was lower and more normal for normal people.

    Hm. No, that can''t be right. My stupid, worthless fucking brain is telling me his name is letters. S.G. That''s not a name, though, those are letters. Hmph! I hate my fucking brain. This is stupid. I probably got everyone''s names wrong like the pathetic waste of fucking space that I am. I probably mixed all of the boys up, too.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú Starts during Xander''s PoV

    "And then, if you set fire to the brownie, it becomes the Flaming Brownie of Doom!" I exclaim.

    "You boys had way too much ice cream," Mr. Thompson laughs. "And soda. How much candy did you put on the sundaes?"

    "Yes," Connor and I respond, then burst out laughing.

    We''re currently on our way to the bowling alley, Mr. Thompson picking Connor and me up from my house while Mr. Michaels picked up Sam and Isaac. The dads let them stay over at my place until it was time to head to the bowling alley and they''re probably remembering why we generally need supervision after twelve hours of being alone.

    Three hours ago, we went to a store near my home and bought more soda, ice cream, candy, and other ice cream toppings. Then we plowed through it all in about an hour and a half. This is the reason why Mr. Thompson called Mr. Michaels to pick up half of us instead of taking us all in his car: we''re a tad too hyper at the moment and four of us in crammed in a small space like this while we''re like this?

    Yeah, the dads have learned that lesson. One time was all they needed.

    We continue telling Mr. Thompson about the imaginary game we played earlier as he drives us to the bowling alley, and once we arrive, we meet up with the other boys and their dads, who are waiting by Mr. Richardson''s car.

    "Alright, boys," Mr. Michaels says. "Remember, try not to be too chaotic inside. It''s good to have a lot of energy, but don''t disturb the other guests."

    "Yes, sir!" We salute.

    "This is going to be fun," Mr. Richardson mutters, and we giggle.

    We go inside and rent the lanes, then order our food for the night before we begin making our way down to Lane 18. Xander is there with his foster-dad again. As we near Lane 12, a woman approaches us.

    "Hey, Tiffany," Mr. Thompson says. "Already here?"

    "Hello, Paul," the woman responds. "I wanted to get in some practice, it''s been awhile since I went bowling."

    "Hi, Ms. Johnson!" Connor waves to her.

    "You know her?" I whisper. "She your dad''s girlfriend?"

    "Ew, no," Connor makes a face. "But I''ve seen her at Dad''s work with some boys sometimes."

    "She works with foster kids," Mr. Thompson explains. "Works at a home for boys in the system. Their usual doctor can''t do some of the things we can do at our office, so they usually take the boys to us if needed. I felt she might like a break and asked if she wanted to come hang out with us this week. After asking the other dads, of course."

    The other dads nod, clearly having expected her presence.

    "Speaking of the boys," she says. "One of our more difficult placements is here, down at the end. It does seem he''s settling in well to his new home."

    "Xander was one of your boys?" Mr. Thompson asks. "I''ll admit, I actually wanted to ask about him. Just wasn''t sure how to do it¡­ subtly."

    "Oh?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "Yeah," Mr. Thompson nods. "Connor, Sig, and I have been coming here for years and started noticing Xander around Christmas two years ago. Always alone. Figured his parents were dropping him off or something. Then last week, we saw him with another man and he seemed especially afraid and was avoiding being too close. The hope was that you could let me know your thoughts and maybe look into it, as when we talked to them, they both claimed the man was his new foster dad and Xander was insistent he wasn''t being beaten by him."

    Ms. Johnson thinks for a few moments, then nods.

    "How much did Xander tell you?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "That he broke his arm skateboarding," Mr. Thompson answers. "Won''t say more with the boys present."

    "I won''t say too much with them here," she says. "However, I can say with confidence that he''s taken to Mr. Caldwell. Maybe doesn''t fully trust him and isn''t aware of it, but he''s trusted him enough to tell him about this place that''s safe for him. And he looked pretty happy with the bowling shoes Mr. Caldwell bought him."

    "Xander can look happy?" Us boys ask at the same time.

    "Yes," Ms. Johnson laughs. "It can be hard to believe, but he can look pretty happy when he is. It''s a slight shift to his expression so it might not seem it, but it''s there and he had it while showing me the shoes."

    "I wanna see his shoes now," I say.

    "You boys go on down to your lane," Mr. Thompson tells us. "We''ll start our bowling."

    We head on down to Lane 18 and start getting everything set up, then start bowling. The bowling shoes that Xander''s wearing look really awesome on him, though it''s also kind of funny because they''re way too bold compared to his outfit. He''s always worn dull-dark colors and neon green is not his preference. They still look cool, though.

    Mr. Caldwell leaves after their game ends, probably to use the restroom, and I notice between frames that Xander''s ''subtly'' looking at us, a look of concentration on his face. It looks like he''s muttering as well, and at some point, he huffs and starts cramming nachos into his mouth. Something annoyed him?

    The others told me a couple of weeks ago that I should talk to him and while I haven''t yet¡­ maybe I can go see what''s wrong?

    "Guys," I say. "I''m gonna go say hi to Xander. Back in a minute."

    I''m off to Xander before they can respond and his gaze snaps to me before I''m even two steps away from our section. A suspicious look fills his face as he watches me approach.

    "Hi!" I greet him. "I''m S.G.!"

    "So that was it?" Xander asks.

    "Huh?"

    "Your name?"

    "Well, no," I say. "It''s actually Sebastian Greyson Bellman, but I prefer S.G., my first two initials."

    "Oh," he says.

    "You looked annoyed by something," I say. "Were we bothering you? If so, I do apologize. We had a lot of ice cream earlier."

    "No," Xander answers, then looks hesitant for a few moments. "I was trying to remember what the man said your names were."

    "Oh!" I exclaim. "You''re talking about Mr. Thompson, right? Connor''s dad? He''s the one who came over here last week."

    "Connor?" Xander asks. "So it''s not Donner."

    "Donner''s a reindeer," I grin at him. "But close enough! If I tell him that you thought his name was Donner, he''ll probably pretend to be a reindeer. He''s a bit goofy."

    "You put a shoe on your head."

    Xander immediately looks worried after saying that. Is he scared of getting into trouble or that? Why? He was just mentioning us goofing around.

    "Hey, I didn''t say I wasn''t goofy," I grin. "Just that he is!"

    Now Xander looks even more scared. What did I say? Did I say something that could be scary?

    "Anyway," I say. "I was just curious if you were alright since you were looking really annoyed. Were we bothering you?"

    "No," Xander''s quiet for a few moments. "I couldn''t remember everyone''s names. I hate being stupid. Are their names¡­ Zeke and Dan?"

    "Isaac and Sam," I say. "So you were close! And why do you think you''re stupid? Because you couldn''t remember names you heard one time? Please. Most people can''t. Mr. Thompson told us your new dad''s name last week and I was thinking it was Blackwell until he mentioned it again."

    "Really?" Xander seems confused.

    "Yup!" I say. "So we really weren''t bothering you?"

    "No," he''s quiet for a few moments, but I can tell that he''s thinking about saying something. It seems he decides not to say whatever it was, though. "You weren''t bothering me."

    "Alright," I say. "Hey, wanna bowl with us next week? Sam''s going to be at his mom''s so there won''t be as much chaos. We''ll also try not to eat two gallons of ice cream before coming."

    "You ate two gallons of ice cream?" Xander looks incredulous, even shifting back a little.

    "Well, I had about half a gallon," I say. "But we had two gallons of it between the four of us. Also a lot of soda and candy, so we''re a bit extra hyper today. That''s why I was worried that we''d bothered you."

    "Oh," he''s quiet for a few moments ago. "No, you weren''t bothering me."

    "Cool," I say. "Oh, and you don''t have to decide about next week right now! If you want to think about whether or not to join us first, you can take time to think about it."

    Xander looks contemplative. For some reason, the next part is hard for me to get out. Why does it sound like my heart is pounding in my chest? Saying this next part feels wrong, like it can make everything go bad, and I don''t know why.

    "In fact," I try to push through the sudden and weird anxiety I''m having. "If you want to give me your number, you can just tell me by, like, seven on Tuesday. At night. Not in the morning."

    Why does it feel like everything will change depending on his answer, regardless of what it is? I guess probably because it will. I''ve seen him here for a year and half but we''ve never actually talked before and now I''m asking him if he wants to be friends. If he says no, then that means that while we don''t annoy him, he doesn''t want to hang out with us ever. If he says yes, then we might be adding a new friend to our group. This shouldn''t be that big of a deal but it feels it and I don''t know why.

    The fact that Xander actually looks a bit worried has me concerned, too.

    "O-okay," Xander says, then rattles off a number.

    "Huh?" I ask, then it clicks. "Wait, was that your number?"

    "Yeah."

    "Hold on," I pull out my phone, feeling weirdly excited. "I didn''t catch it. Let me get a contact set up, and¡­ what was the number?" Xander repeats it. "Cool! Alright, and your nickname is set to Xander so that''s what it''s gonna show. Is it cool if I ask your real name, too? So I can put that in? It''s cool if not."

    "Alexander T. King," Xander responds. "I don''t like my middle name. And I prefer Xander."

    "That''s cool," I say. "Wait, King?"

    "But not one of those Kings," he says. "I can''t heal in a few days."

    The Kings he''s referring to are the ones from the family that owns the Lumaria Group. They''re a family of powerful mages with extraordinary abilities and absurd physical toughness and regeneration abilities. If he was a Lumaria King, Xander''s broken arm would have been healed within a day or two instead of taking ten weeks.

    Though a Lumaria King wouldn''t have even broken their arm in the first place. Not from a skateboarding accident.

    Jeez. No wonder he''s so scared of everyone. I''ve heard about people changing their kids'' last names or their own last names to try and pretend they''re a Lumaria King, especially if they''re blond and have blue, green, or grey eyes. It''s only hell for the kids once people discover they aren''t a Lumaria King.

    That''s probably what happened with the home that abused him ¨C they probably thought they were getting a kid with extraordinary magical abilities and then found out that he wasn''t the gold mine they expected and desired and punished him for it.

    "Dude," I tell him. "If I could heal a broken bone in a few days¡­ I''d probably be more of a daredevil. It''s probably a good thing. But hey, don''t look so down about not being a Lumaria King ¨C you''re a king of bowling! I''ve never heard of someone able to get strikes so consistently before!"

    Xander''s face flushes red a little and I don''t think it''s being embarrassed by the compliment so much as not being used to a compliment like that.

    "Oh," I say. "And if you do decide to bowl with us, don''t be worried about kicking our butts ¨C we don''t bowl for the scores, we just bowl to hang out and have fun. So as long as you''re having fun, that''s all we''ll care about, ''kay?"

    Xander thinks for a few moments, then nods.

    "Cool!" I say. "Hey, can I get a picture of you so I can save it as your contact image? That way it''s not a generic ''X'' in a circle?"

    Xander looks a bit confused but consents, so I take a picture of him and save it to the image. Then I ask if he wants my number and let him take a picture of me for my contact image. Though he looks a bit annoyed and when I ask what''s wrong, he shows me the picture. It''s a little bit blurry.

    "Here," I shoot him a text. "Touch a finger to that picture for a few seconds, then tell it to save, then you can upload it as the image."

    Nodding, Xander checks the text, then does as I suggested. It''s a selfie I took earlier and I made sure it was a tame one instead of one that showcases my chaotic energy. Pre-ice cream topping face paint.

    "Alright!" I say. "We''re all set! It was good talking with you, Xander! See you next week!"

    "Bye," Xander says, then I hurry back over to my friends.

    "So?" Connor asks, all three of them crowding me.

    "We weren''t annoying him," I say. "He was apparently trying to remember what your dad said our names were and got annoyed that he couldn''t," I giggle as I look at my friends. "He got my name right, but thought you were Dan, you were Zeke, and you¡­ were Donner!"

    "Ooh!" Conner exclaims. "I''m one of Santa''s reindeer!"

 Chapter 015

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "OH, MY GOODNESS THE LAKE IS HUGE!" I exclaim excitedly.

    "Wait until you''re out of the car!" Mr. Thompson laughs.

    "IT REALLY IS, THOUGH!" Connor exclaims.

    "Not so loud in the car!" His dad laughs again.

    Mr. Thompson finishes pulling into the spot for our campsite, which has two picnic tables, a fire ring, the paved parking space, and hookups for water and electricity. This isn''t where campers can park as this is the designated tent camping area; however, they still give everyone water and electricity at their sites. It''s 2023, not 1993. There''s seven wifi.

    There are only two other sites here that are taken up. One of them is way on the other side of the tent area and the other one is two spaces over from us and with a family that''s just starting to set things up. When we get out of the car, I glance over at the people just getting started on setting up their site. It''s a man and a woman, and a girl with brown hair and eyes.

    "OH, MY GOODNESS! IT''S THE FALL QUEEN!"

    The girl looks over and stares at me for a moment.

    "OH, MY GOODNESS! IT''S THE DORK SQUAD!"

    Then she pauses and looks between Connor and me, who are grinning.

    "Wait," she says as the three of us walk toward each other. "There are only two of you."

    "Hi, Ann!" I say. "Have any falls lately?"

    "It was one fall!" She exclaims.

    "Maybe," Connor grins. "But it happened as you were leaving school on the last day!"

    Ann gives him a playful punch on the arm and he just grins at her wider, an amused laugh escaping him.

    "You''re camping here, too?" Connor asks.

    "Just until Sunday," she answers. "We got here about fifteen minutes ago."

    "I told you I recognized that car!" I slug Connor.

    "Okay, okay," he gives me a playful shove. "You were right!"

    "Always am!" I shove him back.

    "You guys here for the weekend, too?" Ann asks as Connor goes to put me in a headlock.

    "Yup!" Connor answers as he gets me into the headlock and I start jabbing his side. "Isaac has other commitments for the weekend and Sam''s going to his mom''s for a week, so it''s just us and Dad. Hey! Wanna go swim in the lake with us? Dad said that we can swim in the lake freely, that there''s no rule against it here as long as we don''t do anything inappropriate!"

    "Sure!" She says. "Better than whatever my parents have planned."

    "I''ll bet," I grin.

    "You boys need to get your tent set up first," Mr. Thompson calls over.

    "Oh, right!" Ann says. "I should probably finish getting mine set up. When we''re done?"

    We agree on that, then return to our own campsites and start getting our tent set up. This isn''t the first time Connor and I have set it up so we''re able to get it up pretty quickly, then we put our air mattresses, pillows, and blankets inside, stick our bags in, and change into our board shorts. By the time we''re done, Ann and her parents are in the camp talking with Mr. Thompson.

    I locate the tote of fun stuff that comes to the camping trips with us and rummage through it until I find the plastic box I''m looking for. Opening it up, I pull out the blue-and-green beach ball that''s inside of it, then close the box. We keep the beach balls deflated and inside of a plastic box so they don''t get torn up during transport.

    "We''re going down to the lake!" I tell the adults.

    "Be safe!" They call after us.

    Connor, Ann, and I make our way down to the lake and I blow up the volleyball once we''re done there. Rather than using my breath, I show off some of my magic skill to fill it up. Before doing that, I ask Connor to record me on my phone.

    Once Connor''s recording, I put my thumb over the tube meant for blowing air into the ball, then create and push air into it in that spot. My skill level isn''t enough to be that precise, so some air is created outside of the little tube as well and that plus the air blowing into it try to push the ball away from me, but I manage to hold onto the ball despite its attempt at escaping.

    "That''s pretty neat," Ann says as I push in the plug to keep the air in.

    "Right?" I ask. "Took me a long time to manage to create enough air, and I can''t do it in too small a spot yet so there was plenty that didn''t go into the ball, but I''m getting better! Let''s go in the water!"

    I toss the ball into the lake, then three of us charge in and start goofing around. We throw the ball around, try to dunk each other, splash each other, and just have fun up until the parents call us back to camp for lunch. It consists of all-beef hot dogs that we cook over the fire using roasting rods, chips, and soda.

    "You keep taking a lot of pictures," Ann comments. "I noticed you doing that while you were setting up the tent, too. Well, you had Mr. Thompson taking some, but you took a lot, too. Do you normally do that while camping?"

    "Sometimes!" I answer. "Not as much as this. Usually just for cool stuff. But we''re making a new friend and he said he''s never been camping before, so I''m sending him lots of pictures."

    "A new friend?"

    "His name''s Xander," Connor tells her. "We go bowling almost every week and we''ve seen him there for about a year and a half. Sig talked to him on Tuesday and invited him to bowl with us next week. We''ve all wanted to, we just didn''t think he''d be comfortable. Long story."

    "Yeah," I nod. "And I got his number so he could let me know if he was going to bowl with us this coming Tuesday and I''ve been messaging him and mentioned going camping. Asked if he''d ever gone camping before and he said no, so I''m sending him lots of pictures."

    "Cool," she says. "Does he go to our school? I don''t remember a Xander."

    "I don''t think so," I say. "I''m pretty sure I''d remember him there."

    "Did he respond to the pictures?" Ann says. "Does he like them?"

    "Er¡­" I give her a sheepish smile. "It''s hard to understand his texts. He''s a really bad speller. But I think he''s okay with them? Though I think I confused him a bit, too."

    "Why?"

    "I wanted the video of me blowing up the ball to show off to him," I say. "And Xander''s response looks like it translates to ''is it normal for boys to have abs at our age?'' So, um¡­ actually, maybe it''s making him insecure?"

    I shoot off another text to Xander and a response comes while we''re fixing our hot dogs on their buns. Once I''m done, I check the text.

    "Guess it''s not us," I say. "Xander said that he went swimming with a couple of other boys on Monday and they both had abs, but their abs were more clear than mine. Hold on, gonna send him a pic of you, Connor, so he can see that you don''t have any."

    I do exactly that and send Xander a message saying that I only have them due to how active I''ve been and how much they''ve gotten toned. It''s definitely not normal for a boy our age to have noticeable abs, not even ones as lightly visible as mine. We are at the age where being insecure about our bodies starts up so I guess that''s just part of it for him.

    Xander''s response to the picture of Conner is one of a muffin and I''m not sure how to interpret that.

    Then he sends back a picture of him making muffins with an apology saying he meant to send that one. He''s wearing the same outfit I''m used to seeing him in, but with a dark green apron on over it.

    Over the last few days of messages, I''ve gotten the impression that Xander is very awkward when it comes to social stuff, so I''m going to assume that he''s just trying to return ''picture for picture'' while getting off of the subject of abs. I ask if I can show him the pictures to some of my friends, including one he won''t have seen at the bowling alley. He responds affirmatively ''as long as they''re nice''. At least, I think that''s what he''s saying.

    "Guys, look!" I say. "Xander''s making muffins!"

    I show Connor and Ann the pictures that Xander sent.

    "That''s him?" Ann asks. "I recognize him! Mom! This is the kid who comes to the pet store every Saturday, right?"

    Ann''s mom steps away from the other adults for a moment to look at the picture.

    "That looks like him," she says. "The one who comes to play with the dogs?"

    "You see him a lot?" I ask.

    "We go in sometimes to buy treats and toys for Sadie," Ann tells me. "We''ve seen him a lot and asked the staff and they said he comes in most Saturdays at about two to hang out with the dogs. Usually really quiet and likes to pet all of the dogs who are up for it before leaving. So he bowls?"

    "Dude!" I exclaim. "Does he bowl? We call him the Super Striker because he''s so good! He''s not gotten anything short of a perfect score in like, a year!"

    "I don''t believe you," Ann says.

    "It''s true," Mr. Thompson says. "Xander''s insanely good at bowling. If it weren''t for the enchantments on the place to prevent it, we''d think he was using magic."

    "Oh!" Connor exclaims. "Speaking of Sadie! You didn''t bring her?"

    "No," Ann says. "She broke her butt a few days ago, so she''s staying at my aunt''s place while we''re here."

    "How did she break her butt?" Connor and I ask.

    "Wagging too hard," Ann answers. "That''s apparently a thing that can happen."

    That just sounds too funny, and all three of us start laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "He looks more contemplative than just doing nothing," I hear Mr. Caldwell say somewhere to my left. "Did something happen?"

    I''m currently stretched out on the floor of the living room. The carpet is really soft in here and it''s not on the second floor so it''s even more comfortable.

    "I think he''s more confused," Ms. Katie responds. "He randomly asked me if it was wrong that he didn''t have abs. Had to explain that it''s not something he should worry about as long as he''s healthy. Some people get them from being physically active in a way that tones them, others try for them because they want to show off. Even after that, he didn''t look too sure."

    Because I''m not. Luke and Parker both have really clear abs and S.G. has some light definition to them. Even Nick has traces of abs. Doesn''t that mean I should, too? That it''s a sign of being healthy? I''m really confused by this and it has me concerned that this worthless body of mine is in an even worse condition than I thought.

    "How''s he been otherwise?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    They probably don''t realize that I have really good ears and can hear them. It''s rude to talk about people where they can hear you, even if it''s just to find out how they''re doing. Then again, it''s probably not rude when the person is worthless and a waste of space, so I guess it''s okay.

    It still bothers me, though. I know it''s wrong for me to be bothered by others and I''m trying to fight that feeling so that I''m not a bad boy.

    "Pretty good," Ms. Katie answers. "S.G.''s been texting him a lot. I think that''s what sparked the confusion."

    "The kid from the bowling alley, right?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "He''s texted Xander a few times since then, mostly random pictures. I''ve found him confused more than once the last few days because of them."

    "Yeah," Ms. Katie says. "S.G.''s camping at a lake."

    "Ah," Mr. Caldwell says, as if that told him everything he needed to know.

    It doesn''t tell me anything other than that S.G.''s camping at a lake. I''m also still worried that my body''s in a really bad shape and I''m going to die because of it. Though maybe I''d be better off dead, anyway. Not that I can just try for it. I''m so worthless even Death won''t come for me.

    That''s probably why I''m still alive despite my attempts.

    "Did anything else happen?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "We did some baking after lunch," Ms. Katie tells him. "Xander wanted to know if we could make some stuff for the benefit dinner. We did cookies, brownies, and muffins. The muffins weren''t intended, but I wanted to let Xander do more after we finished the cookies and brownies."

    "Do more?" Mr. Caldwell asks.

    "Most of it," Ms. Katie tells him. "Not just measuring but also putting the ingredients in, mixing, and putting into the tins. I did put them into the oven, though. That much work strained his comfort and he was nervous he''d drop the pans. I did snap a few pictures of him working. Oh, and I did take him to the store with me earlier, when I went shopping for groceries."

    "Xander asked me first," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "I bought him an apron," Ms. Katie informs him. "So that he could wear it while helping me bake. I''m not sure, but I think he wants his name put on it?"

    I very much do but I''m scared to ask how that can be done since I''m definitely not going to be able to do it myself. I''d probably prick my fingers a lot. The staff at the Wolf''s Dragon all have their names on their aprons and while I know it''s so that customers have an easier time remembering their names, I still want it on the apron.

    But putting it on the apron is probably overstepping my permissions here. It''d be assuming too much and claiming the apron as mine. That''s not something I should do if I don''t want to get into trouble.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "I''ll ask," Mr. Caldwell tells her. "You can have the rest of the day off. I''ll be eating at the benefit and there''s something getting ordered for Xander."

    There will be far too many people at the benefit for my comfort so I''m not going. Mr. Caldwell even asked me if I wanted to go but also told me that it would have a lot of people there so he would understand if I didn''t want to. I think he really was giving me a choice, too.

    "Thanks," Ms. Katie says. "I''ll see you later, Trey."

    "See you," Mr. Caldwell says.

    Instead of coming over to me like Mr. Caldwell normally does after getting an update on my day, I find that he''s not approaching. I can hear him and Ms. Katie walking away, but in different directions from each other and from me. Then Mr. Caldwell returns and I can hear two other sets of feet on the floor. All of them are wearing shoes.

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell comes into view and I turn my head to face him and find an older couple with him.

    They look to be in their fifties, but I''ve learned that I''m bad with ages so they''re probably younger. Or a lot older. The man has a briefcase with him while the woman has a large purse. It''s large enough to fit a lot of puppies inside, but I don''t think she''s sneaking any in here.

    "These are my parents, Roger and Gina," Mr. Caldwell gestures to the older couple. "I know that you''re still adjusting to the new life here, but I wanted to introduce you to them."

    It takes me a few moments to manage to sit up, then I stand. My body is exhausted and sore from all the training in the classes Mr. Caldwell has arranged for me and that''s made it tired, so I can''t always move as fast when I first start moving around again after lying down for awhile.

    "Hello," I greet Mr. Caldwell''s parents.

    "Hello, Xander," Mr. Roger Caldwell says. "It''s a pleasure to meet you."

    "Hello," Mrs. Caldwell says. "It''s nice to meet you. You can call us Grandma and Grandpa if you want."

    They want me to call them Grandpa and Grandma? I''m not comfortable doing that but it''s what they want.

    "Hi," I''m not sure what to do here. "A-are you going to the dinner to help the tornado victims?"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "Can you look me in the eyes for a few moments? Thanks. I should probably be with you the first few times, but would you be okay with them spending the evening with you while I''m gone? I trust them to treat you properly and not hurt you, and they promised they have a few activities they thought you might enjoy."

    "You''re our grandson now," Grandma Caldwell says and I look at her. "I know it''s not been very long yet, but we''d like to get to know you some."

    This doesn''t sound like I''m getting a choice. Mr. Caldwell probably called them to ask them to watch me so that I don''t get into trouble. Or so that if I misbehave, they can tell him so that I can''t hide it.

    "O-okay," I say.

    "I''m going to go get changed into the suit for the dinner," Mr. Caldwell tells us. "I''ll be back down in just a few minutes."

    Mr. Caldwell goes upstairs and the three of us stand here in silence. I stare down at my socks while waiting for him to return, then he wishes us all a good night and tells me to listen to his parents. Then it''s quiet for a few moments after he leaves.

    Up until my phone bloops and makes me jump. The dork is texting me again. Nervous that Mr. Caldwell''s parents aren''t going to want me on my phone, I try to pull it out while making sure they''re not going to scold me. They don''t, so I check the text.

    Pickle Power Boy: I accidentally broke the air mattress you nap on here. It has been replaced. The new one is bigger, more durable, and more comfortable. I also further enchanted it for extra durability. Also to resist throwing stars. I do believe you will like this one more. I have already tested it to confirm its comfiness.

    The dork was playing with throwing stars in his workshop again? He keeps telling me that he won''t do it again, but he always forgets after a few months and does it again. Last time, he accidentally broke his mini-fridge.

    That''s not lying, since he honestly means it and believes it to be true. Promising something and then forgetting about the promise is just¡­ being forgetful.

    "Alright," Grandpa Caldwell says. "I think that''s enough time."

    Oh, no. They do have restrictions on my phone and reading the text from the dork took too long. I''m sorry for being bad! I didn''t know there was a different rule!

    "Yes," Grandma Caldwell says as she looks toward the front of the house. "Trey should be far enough away by now. Get the stuff out."

    Grandpa Caldwell sets his briefcase down on the coffee table and opens it up. There are a lot of things in it, including bundles of cash. He pulls out a laminated paper, a timer, and some walkie-talkies with ear pieces attached via a cord that I see employees at some stores use. Grandma Caldwell pulls a camera out of her purse.

    This is bad. This is really, really bad.

    "Xander," Grandma Caldwell says. "Let''s a play a game, yes? A scavenger hunt."

    That''s¡­ not what I was expecting. But it might still be something bad.

    "Scavenger hunt?" I ask. "T-that''s where you look for stuff?"

    "Yes," she smiles. "We printed up a list of things we know are in this house. Your goal will be to find as much stuff on the list as you can and take a picture of it. We''ll set a timer for half an hour, and for everything on the list that you find, you''ll get five dollars."

    "The way it''ll work," Grandpa Caldwell tells me. "Is you''ll have one of these walkies, and we''ll each have one. It clips onto a pocket, a belt, a belt loop, or whatever, and you put the piece in your ear. We''ll tell you what to find, and you locate it and take a picture. Then you''ll tell us that you''re ready for the next item and we''ll tell you what it is. You''ll get a timer so you know when it''s time to stop."

    "And Trey said you''re worried about dropping things," Grandma Caldwell shows me the camera. "So we brought a camera with a strap that you can wear around your neck. That way if you accidentally drop it, it doesn''t fall and break!"

    I''m really not sure about this but I don''t want to get into trouble for breaking the rules or disobeying Mr. Caldwell''s parents.

    "One more thing," Grandma Caldwell says. "Remember that Trey said to listen to us? Well, we''re saying that it''s okay to run in the house for this game. The goal is to find stuff as fast as possible to earn as much as you can, alright? So you''ll want to either put on your shoes or take off your socks as running in socks on a smooth floor can result in you slipping and falling a lot and that''s not very fun."

    Shoes are the better choice here so I locate the ones Mr. Caldwell bought for me and put them on. I don''t want to run in the house but I also don''t want to get yelled at. I''ll get into trouble either way, so it''s better to delay it than deal with it now.

    Grandpa Caldwell hands me the walkie and shows me how to put it on, then he sets the timer and I''m given the camera and shown how to use it.

    "The first time to find," Grandpa Caldwell looks at the laminated page he has. "Is a doorknob. Go!"

    I walk fast but I don''t run because I''m scared of tripping. There''s a closet close by so I take a picture of it, then use the walkie to report back even though I''m not too far away from them. Those were the directions given.

    "Dictionary," Grandma Caldwell responds through the radio.

    The only ones I know of are in the bedroom I''m staying in and the library, so I hurry over to the library and find the dictionaries, then take a picture and report back. Next is a sauna stone, so I hurry to the sauna, but I don''t enter it and instead take a picture from outside. Wearing shoes in a sauna is taboo and I don''t want to get punished by the sauna fairy.

    I''m next set to find a towel so I hurry to the nearest towel I know of and take a picture of it. A lot of the items are easy for me to find while others are a little bit more difficult, but I find myself having more fun than I expected.

    A lot more fun.

    By the time the timer goes off, I''m a little bit out of breath and a little sweaty from running around so much, but this was really fun. After the training class earlier and baking this afternoon, I''m not sure I''ll be able to finish everything Mr. Caldwell''s parents want me to have. My body already wants me to curl up and sleep after this one game.

    Maybe that''s their goal: wear me out to make it easier to do stuff to me.

    I return to Mr. Caldwell''s parents and give them the camera, radio, and timer back, and Grandma Caldwell goes through the pictures. She comments on each one to confirm that I took a picture of what was listed, and Grandpa Caldwell marks it on the page using a dry-erase marker.

    "That''s eighteen items," Grandma Caldwell says. "At five dollars an item, that''s ninety dollars. Let''s just round that up to a hundred."

    Grandpa Caldwell gives me five twenty-dollar-bills from the briefcase. I''m not really sure I believe this is happening but I tuck the bills into one of my pockets.

    "Have you ever had Japanese food before?" Grandma Caldwell asks.

    "I don''t like seafood," I didn''t mean to say that.

    "You''re thinking of sushi rolls, aren''t you?" She asks, and I nod. "Well, this won''t have fish in it. Your grandpa is going to make some ramen from scratch and we''ll have that for dinner. After, I''ll bake a pie and you can help. Trey said you''re good at measuring ingredients."

    I don''t think I''m good at it at all, but I don''t want to correct her. Correcting people is wrong. Very, very wrong.

    "Come on," she says. "Let''s go to the kitchen."

    Ramen has never been very tasty to me and I''m finding it hard to believe that rich people know how to make it, let alone want to eat it. Maybe they think it''s one of the only things I''ll eat since I''m a twelve-year-old foster boy?

    I sit on a stool at the counter to watch Grandpa Caldwell make dinner, and I learn very quickly that he''s not making the ramen that I know. He pulled off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, pulled on an apron that they must have brought here, and is actually making the noodles themselves to start with.

    By the time he''s finished, I''m fascinated by the whole process. There are the noodles, which he cooked in water and then put bowls ¨C one for each of us. Then he put some slices of meat and some veggies into the bowl with the noodles, put a little bit of some sort of sauce onto the noodles, cracked an egg onto each set of noodles, and then poured in hot pork broth, which cooked the eggs.

    I''m not really fond of eggs but I don''t want to get into trouble for saying that. Other than that, the whole meal looks good¡­ and nothing at all like the ramen I''m familiar with.

    "This is good, proper ramen," Grandpa Caldwell tells me as I stare at the bowl he''s put in front of me. "Nothing like the instant stuff. My father immigrated here from Japan and taught me some of the recipes from his restaurant."

    "It smells good," I try to come up with a compliment.

    "Thank you," he says. "If you like it, I can make more."

    "What do you want to drink?" Grandma Caldwell asks me. "You can have anything as long as it''s here."

    My choice is any drink Mr. Caldwell has here, not just from a selection of two or three?

    "Lemonade, please."

    "How do you like it?" She asks. "Weak, moderate, strong?"

    "Strong, please."

    "Okay," she says. "Give me just a minute to fix that up, then we can eat."

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Is that a new suit?" I ask Parker as he enters the foyer of my house.

    "Yeah," he answers. "I''ve apparently grown enough that my old one didn''t fit too well. Where are your parents?"

    "Lucas!" Dad hurries in the foyer. "Discharge your mana already!"

    "Dad''s right here," I take the crystal orb from him. "And I think Mom is still putting on her earrings. Dad, do I really have to wear a black suit?"

    The shirt is white, but everything else is black. I did manage to put on a yellow tie, though.

    "Yes," Dad says. "That''s the code for this event. I know you want to wear a suit more your style, but you need to look the part for the event."

    "Fiiiiiiiiiiiine."

    "Charge the core!" Dad points at the crystal.

    Parker chuckles while I start pouring mana into the orb. Being so low on mana lately is really bothering me but it''s one of the prices I have to pay to get to help Xander. Then to have to burn up as much of my mana as possible for a second time today so that I''m calmer for the event? Urgh. At least I can recharge a fair bit over the weekend. Mom and Dad know that I''ll be gorging myself on food the entire time.

    Mom joins us before I finish putting as much mana as I can into the crystal, then Dad disappears with the crystal to put it wherever he''s putting it. With everything taken care of, the four of us leave with Parker and me in the backseat of the car.

    While Parker doesn''t normally get invited to big events unless his parents are catering ¨C and he''s usually there to help them ¨C I''ve been inviting him a lot more often lately. He''s my best friend and he shouldn''t have to miss out on stuff just because his family isn''t wealthy.

    Catering may be a big deal but they don''t make as much money as people might think even when they service big events. I''m not actually sure how he was able to attend the academy last year but I do know that his parents definitely can''t afford it from their catering business.

    Tonight''s benefit is being held at a large conference hall and it''s pretty crowded inside. Parker sticks close to me like he always does, though we mingle with others. Plenty of our classmates are here as well as many of the girls who attend the sister school. Many students from the respective high schools are here.

    "You seem pretty calm today," Jenna, one of the girls in our grade, says when Parker and I approach her. "That''s unusual. You''re normally jabbering away even at these events."

    "A quieter Luke happens when I''m low on mana," I explain. "Dad made me release as much as possible before coming so that I wouldn''t babble as much. Do you think your parents will donate?"

    "Maybe two grand," she answers. "Yours?"

    "We sent food down there," I tell her. "Mom also paid and arranged for some hogs to be butchered and sent down to help feed them as well. Parker and I were there for a few days and I helped some of the rescue efforts while he helped make and serve food."

    "Working on service credits?"

    Our schools don''t require volunteer hours for several reasons, including that it''s not really volunteer if you''re required to do it. Forcing kids to spend their time working for free instead of doing more fun things can also make the kids resentful and hate it. Instead, they give us incentives to do service work.

    They all come through the credits, which are based on verified qualifying service hours but which can be multiplied when the activity is of a certain type. Performing rescue efforts is one such multiplying factor.

    One thing we can use the credits for is for retaking a test or redoing an assignment to try and earn a better grade. Another is for permission to turn in an assignment a day later.

    Since this is technically a form of payment, it''s not volunteer work. Offering the incentives works pretty well since it does encourage students to do them, and part of what''s measured for the credits is for the effort put in and how respectful the student is while doing it. So someone who goes there ''for the credit'' and gives a lot of attitude won''t earn very much and may even get disciplined by the school.

    "I was just wanting to help people who suffered from the tornado," I tell Jenna.

    "I wanted the credits," Parker says, and Jenna and I snort in our amusement.

    Parker makes heavy use of them to retake tests.

    We talk for a few more minutes, then split up to mingle with others. As he has been, Parker sticks with me. Most of the people here aren''t too fond of me and only some of the classmates will actually talk with me in a decent manner, like Jenna. With Parker, most of them just accept his presence but view him as lesser because he''s just the son of a caterer and not some wealthy heir or whatever. I''m his only friend at the academy while his others are all from DFMS, from when he attended it.

    They don''t like me very much, either, but I try not to dwell on that or the fact that they don''t want me hanging out with them.

    Most of this "benefit" is really the adults and kids socializing, discussing business, making new connections, and so on. There actually is some eating and donations that are pledged, but I don''t catch most of that because it''s not as obvious (the eating is, the donations aren''t).

    "Mr. Gates," a woman flags me down as I start to pass by. "Lucas Gates, yes?"

    "Yes, ma''am," I respond. "Though I prefer for others to call me Luke now."

    "My apologies," she says. "My name is Elizabeth Grendora, from Grendora Enchanting. Our main focus is performing stability, durability, and privacy enchantments on home and businesses."

    If memory serves me correctly, Grendora Enchanting is more of an up-and-coming elite enchanting company. They perform quality enchantments but aren''t a titan in the market. If they started fifty years ago, they might have been but it will be a struggle for them today to do more than enter into the world of the elite, which they''ve already done.

    "A pleasure to meet you," I respond. "Your company is the one that put up the main enchantments for Kage Tower downtown, yes?"

    "We are," she answers. "It was the first time we worked with Gatewood generators¡­"

    We talk for a few minutes before I excuse myself from the discussion with a polite statement that I see my mother beckoning me over. It''s an absolute lie but it''s a struggle for me to not babble and she''s trying to make a connection in the hopes of getting her company a boost. Dealing with people doing that is one thing I hate about these events, especially after people found out that I''ve been learning how to manage the company.

    People are probably already suspecting that I take after my parents and am helping design the magitech generators and power plants we produce and own. It''s not even a false assumption ¨C I helped create an upcoming magitech generator our company is releasing. Most of my contribution was really just testing the output capabilities of it but I did assist with some of its design.

    By the time we leave, I''m exhausted from all of the socializing with people I barely know but who want to try and forge a connection to my family. Or from dealing with other kids not liking me and so not wanting to talk to me for very long even though I''m not a babble boy tonight.

    "Hey, Mom and Dad?" I ask once we''re at the car. "Can we stop by Trey''s and say hi to Xander? Maybe see if he wants to join our sleepover?"

    "Let me ask Trey," Mom waves at Trey, who''s on his way to his car right now as well.

    Mom and Trey talk for a minute, and Trey agrees to it but says that he''s not sure Xander will agree. I''m aware of that but I still wanted to invite him over just in case. If someone other than an actual friend of mine would be willing to, it would be Xander.

    Dad drives us to Trey''s house and I get out and follow Trey inside. It feels cooler than I remember it being and it seems Trey has noticed that, too. When we reach the living room, Trey''s parents are watching TV quietly on the couch and Xander is passed out on the floor. He''s on his stomach and a pillow has been tucked under his head, a blanket on top of him.

    Xander''s hair is dark from sweat and it''s stuck to his face a bit, too, but he looks¡­ content. Also exhausted.

    "What happened to Xander?" Trey asks. "He''s sleeping in here? And so close to you even though you just met?"

    I can understand his surprise. While I might not know Xander that well, I''ve seen enough to know that he won''t fall asleep around people he doesn''t know that well.

    "It isn''t that he''s sleeping in here," Grandma Caldwell says. "But more than he passed out in here. We challenged him to three scavenger hunts, taught him how to play cards, baked a pie with him, and wore him out. He laid down there and asked if we could give him a few minutes to catch his breath before we played anymore games after the third scavenger hunt and he passed out within moments."

    Trey is quiet for a few moments.

    "You let him run in the house, didn''t you?"

    "Us?" Grandpa Caldwell asks. "We would never do something like that. By the way, we turned up the AC in here as the scavenger hunts seemed to make Xander hot with him wearing a long sleeve, I hope that''s not a problem."

    Trey groans as I giggle a little. His parents totally let Xander run in the house and probably even encouraged him to or something until he did. That alone wouldn''t have worn him out this much even if it was just three scavenger hunts, so I''m sure they convinced him to do other stuff as well. Nothing inappropriate¡­ but I''ve met the two of them before. Upon hearing that Xander would be timid around them, they probably made sure to plan enough activities for him that he''d wear out and pass out ¨C and probably brainstormed ways to convince Xander to participate.

    "I guess he won''t come over for a sleepover," I tell Trey. "Have a goodnight. And bye, Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell!"

    "Hello, and goodbye, Lucas," Grandma Caldwell says.

    "Enjoy your night," Grandpa Caldwell says.

    I wave to them, then bid Trey a goodnight again before leaving.

    "Xander''s already asleep," I say once I get in the car. "So he''s not going to come over. Maybe next weekend, though."

    At the very least, I can hope.

 Chapter 016

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell''s voice comes through the door, softer than it usually is. "Are you awake?"

    I''m in trouble. A lot of trouble. A quieter voice definitely means he''s even angrier than normal. I didn''t tell him after he woke me up from my nightmares and had me move to the room I''m staying in, but he probably knows by now about me running in the house. His parents told me to and I didn''t want to get into trouble for disobeying them but it was still very bad of me.

    The door to the room opens and I curl up tighter. This is the point where he''s going to beat me for sure so it doesn''t matter what I do, that I didn''t answer him and am hiding under the blanket. Only because Trenton is in my arms with me right now am I not freaking out even more and am just waiting for the beating.

    After a few moments, there''s a weight on the bed. Mr. Caldwell is probably climbing up onto it. He moves next to me and I tense up, ready for the beating.

    "If you''re worried about being disciplined for running around in the house last night," Mr. Caldwell says. "You''re not in trouble for that, Xander. While running in the house normally isn''t allowed, my parents were in charge, no one got hurt, and nothing important got broken. Would I have preferred that they had you run around outside? Yes. Would I have preferred that they ran by me what activities they were planning for you? Yes. Did you want to tell them ''no'' because you aren''t supposed to run in the house but were too scared of punishment to do that? Probably yes. You could have told them you didn''t want to run and they''d have understood.

    "I know you''re not used to this level of freedom," Mr. Caldwell continues. "And are still scared of new things and punishment, Xander. It''s okay. Just remember that it''s normal to say ''no'' if something makes you uncomfortable. If it''s not important, then we can go with that. If doing something is important and you don''t want to, we can try to work out something that makes you comfortable. There might be times where you have to do it anyway¡­ but something like a game like that is definitely something you can say ''no'' to, okay? If someone tries to force you to play a game that makes you uncomfortable, you can also always text me and let me know."

    This is scary. He''s just trying to make me trust him before he beats me for not saying no, isn''t he?

    "So I have one really important question for you," here it comes. "Did you have fun last night?"

    This is a trick question, isn''t it? I have to answer, too, because not answering is bad. But if I say I had fun, then he''ll punish me for having fun by breaking the rules. If I say no, that would make me a liar and I don''t want to be a liar because liars get punished really badly.

    "Y-yes."

    "Good," Mr. Caldwell says. "You had fun last night, no one got hurt, no laws were broken, nothing important was destroyed. Sometimes, rules can be put on hold for fun. If you want to play a game that involves running in the house, just ask permission first, okay?"

    This is so he can reprimand me for asking to break the rules if I ever do. It''s not like I''d ever want to play that sort of game¡­ but if Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell showed up and wanted to play the scavenger hunt game again, then I might agree because it''s fun. Even if I might get into trouble for breaking that rule again.

    "O-okay."

    "Cool," Mr. Caldwell says. "Also, you are not in trouble for passing out in the living room instead of up here, in your room. You were exhausted and didn''t mean to. Even if you had, it can be allowed sometimes.

    "Luke wanted to know if you wanted to come over to his house for a sleepover last night with him and Parker," he tells me. "But you were already asleep when we got here. He might ask you next weekend. It''s okay to tell him no if you don''t want to go. I promise that he''ll understand even without knowing about your nightmares. The only person who ever agrees to a sleepover with him is Parker. He''s aware that he can be a bit too much for others to tolerate, especially for something extended like a sleepover."

    Why would Luke want a sleepover with me? I can only think of one reason and that scares me. I''m glad I was asleep when he came over, though why didn''t they wake me up to ask? It''s not like they care about my sleep.

    "O-okay," I say. "W-wait."

    I wiggle out of the blanket, only realizing once I''m out what I said. Now I''m really nervous, especially because Mr. Caldwell is still in his pajamas, which are just a pair of pajama pants and a grey t-shirt. I''m also still in pajamas, too, and it''s a pair of green pajama pants and a matching pajama shirt with long sleeves and that buttons up, along with a pair of black socks.

    And he''s really close to me. Now I''m scared. This outfit is easier to take off than a shirt that pulls up. I need distance but I got out of the blanket with my back against the headboard of the bed. I can''t get further away.

    "S-sorry."

    "For what?"

    "F-for telling you to w-wait."

    "You''re not in trouble for that, Xander," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "You were wanting to ask me something?"

    "I''m r-really not in t-trouble?" I make sure to look in his eyes for this.

    Even though it scares me, I want to make absolutely certain. If I''m in trouble, then it will only make the punishment worse. But if I''m really not in trouble, then he probably won''t beat me for looking him in the eye.

    "You''re not," Mr. Caldwell says. "It''s okay to ask me to hold on while you shift into a better position."

    "I-I mean about last night."

    "Oh," he says. "No, Xander, you aren''t. There are times where the rules don''t have to apply and last night was one of them. You had fun, right?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "That''s what matters here," he says. "You were safe, you were happy, you had fun, and nothing and no one got broken or hurt."

    My body wants me to do something that my brain really says no to and now I''m starting to get really confused and worried. Also scared. Very, very scared. I don''t know why my body wants me to do this when it also hates this.

    In the end, though, the urge wins me over and I scoot forward a little. Mr. Caldwell gives me a weird look that I think is curiosity but might be confused. Then I scoot forward again so that I''m right in front of him. This is a bad spot. I move to his side and he starts to turn to face me.

    Reaching over and leaning forward, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. Mr. Caldwell tenses up for a moment and I start to get worried that he''s going to beat me for it. Especially when he starts to wrap an arm around me as well.

    He doesn''t, though. Mr. Caldwell just hugs me back. This is really uncomfortable but at the same time, it feels nice. Like he does care about me. After a few seconds, he rubs his hand up and down a few times, then pats me. That''s really uncomfortable but I think he''s trying to comfort me.

    "S-sorry," I say once I back up a little.

    "No need to be sorry," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "I was just surprised, since you don''t like touching and a hug is a lot of touching, and because you don''t trust me and aren''t comfortable with me."

    "M-my body wanted me to."

    I''m surprised he didn''t do something else while I did that. It''s not like I could resist him and being scared doesn''t do much to protect me. Mr. Caldwell could definitely have turned on the privacy ward on my room so no one could hear anything in here but he didn''t. Maybe¡­ he''s not going to hurt me in that way.

    My body really wants me to do that again. I give in and let my body do it because it doesn''t seem like I''m going to get into trouble and even though I was uncomfortable, it felt good. Mr. Caldwell returns the hug again, not saying a word.

    Why do I feel so safe?

    "Want to go down for breakfast now?" Mr. Trey asks once I stop hugging him. "Or want to get changed first and meet me down there?"

    Meet him down there¡­ that means he''ll leave for me to change, right? But I don''t really want to get changed right now and it sounds like he''s offering me that choice. My body wants me to be a little bit lazy.

    "B-breakfast."

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "Let''s head down there."

    Mr. Trey and I get off of my bed and go downstairs, and when the dining room comes into view, I see Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell in there, both still in their pajamas. That both surprises me and scares me a little.

    "Morning, Xander," Grandpa Calldwell greets me.

    "Good morning," Grandma Caldwell greets me. "Did you sleep alright?"

    Did I sleep alright, not did I sleep well? Other than the nightmares, I did sleep alright so that''s an easier question to answer.

    "M-mostly."

    "They stayed the night," Mr. Trey quietly tells me. "Though they had on the soundproofing enchantments at my suggestion, so they don''t know you had nightmares and were screaming. I didn''t tell them about your nightmares, either."

    "T-thank you."

    I don''t know why I said that but it felt right, like he had done something nice for me.

    "We''re doing omelets and bacon for breakfast," Mr. Trey tells me as he gestures for me to take a seat at the table. "Katie''s using a different bacon from before and trying out something with the omelets. If you try them and don''t like them, she''ll make you pancakes and sausage, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    I take a seat in the spot I normally sit in, which already has silverware at it. While we wait, Mr. Trey talks with his parents about something to do with his company, I think. Ms. Katie finishes preparing breakfast and begins serving it a few minutes later. In addition to the omelets and bacon, there''s a bowl of yogurt with granola and small pieces of fruit and some blueberries, orange juice, and milk.

    Just as I expected to happen, I don''t like the bacon or the omelet. The bacon did have something in it that tasted good, but it wasn''t enough to make the bacon taste good. And Ms. Katie put pieces of breakfast sausage in my omelet for some reason and while I liked that a little, the egg ruined the taste.

    So she makes me some sausage links and blueberry-banana-sprinkle-gummy bear pancakes. Ten sausage links and six pancakes in a stack. Rather than syrup, I''m offered a choice of syrup or a cream cheese icing. I want both but end up picking syrup¡­ for the first batch of pancakes.

    Since I''m still hungry after the first serving, Ms. Katie makes me a second batch of pancakes and sausage and offers me the choice of syrup or icing so I go with icing.

    "You can put away quite a lot of food," Grandpa Caldwell says. "Are you a mage, too, Xander?"

    "I-I don''t know magic."

    "Not a deliberate one," Mr. Trey tells his dad, though I''m not sure what that means. "I do think Xander has a spell running at all times, however."

    He''s told me that before but I really doubt it.

    "That thing where you can tell if someone''s lying, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "It''s a form of magic. Some people have magic that runs actively at all times. So you aren''t a mage as you can''t use magic, but you do have some."

    The dork''s told me that too but I''m still not so sure about it. I can sense magic and I don''t feel any getting used when I detect if someone is lying. Then again, the dork''s always trying to tell me that this or that about me is because of magic or that this or that would happen if I wanted it to because of magic. What he says can''t always be trusted to be grounded in reality instead of his dreams.

    "I know a few people who teach magic," Grandma Caldwell tells me. "Would you like to learn-"

    "No!"

    Everyone goes quiet when I exclaim that and I realize really fast what I did.

    "S-sorry for interrupting and telling you no!"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You can say ''no'' when that''s the answer to a question. You''re not going to get into trouble for saying ''no'', okay?"

    "O-okay."

    "Now," he says. "This isn''t the first time you''ve reacted negatively to being asked if you want to learn magic. You said you didn''t want to when I offered and Luke asked me if I knew why you didn''t want to after he asked and you turned him down¡­ do you want to tell me why?"

    "I-I don''t want to be a cash cow," I say. "I''m not even a cow! I don''t want to be milked again!"

    "Milked again?" Grandpa Caldwell asks.

    "Hold on," Mr. Trey says. "A cash cow for using¡­ Xander, did your previous foster family try to make you learn magic and say they wanted you as a cash cow?"

    "Y-yeah," I pull my feet up onto the seat and hug my knees against my chest as tears start to fill my eyes and blur my vision. "They said that I''m obviously one of the big Kings and so I''m gonna be real good at magic and be their cash cow and they got mad that I wasn''t learning that easily and I''m really sorry but I don''t want to be your cash cow Mr. Trey, I really don''t!"

    Mr. Trey lets out a breath that sounds really aggravated.

    "Xander," he says. "I do not see you as a cash cow and if those people hadn''t disappeared, you can bet I''d have a few words for them."

    "One of ''those'' Kings?" Grandma Caldwell asks. "Why would they think that? Because you''re blond?"

    "His last name is King," Mr. Trey tells her. "But he''s not one of the Lumaria Kings, probably just the son of someone whose last name was that because they wanted to pretend a connection. I wish the home he was in had changed it to make things easier but if I''m allowed to adopt him once enough time has passed and he wants it, then we''ll get his last name changed to Caldwell then.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "I''m fully aware that you aren''t a Lumaria King. Even if you were one, I wouldn''t try to force you to use magic to make me money. That''s wrong and inappropriate. If you want to learn magic, then you can. If you don''t, then you don''t need to. If, however, you do decide to learn magic, just let me know what type you want to learn and I''ll find you a teacher for it. What you do with it is your choice, as long as you aren''t doing stuff like breaking the law. Okay?"

    "O-okay," I say. "But I still don''t want to learn."

    "And that''s fine," he says. "Learning magic isn''t a requirement. Can you tell me what sort of spells they were trying to get you to learn?"

    "Um¡­ dim shell spells."

    "Dim shell?"

    "Stuff like teleporting and making magic pocket spaces."

    "Dimensional," Mr. Trey tells me. "It''s called ''dimensional'' and that''s a high-level type of magic."

    "Lumaria Kings learn them easily," I tell him. "And tempo rawr spells."

    "Tempo rawr?" Grandpa Caldwell asks.

    "Probably means ''temporal''," Mr. Trey tells him. "Dimensional and temporal magics are high-level, even for Lumaria Kings. Very few of them actually know any. One clear sign of a Lumaria King is their healing rate ¨C even the weaker ones heal pretty fast compared to others and strong ones among them can heal severe wounds fairly easily. A weaker one can heal a broken bone in about a week or so."

    Which is a clear sign that I am not one. It takes me longer to heal than others, not faster. Are the others really high-level spells? The dork knows both and I know he''s a Lumaria King even if he avoids answering the question when I ask.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Ain''t any other type of human I know of that can heal in under three days having blown off his jaw. I''m still not entirely sure why the dork ate an exploding muffin he made¡­ he claims it shouldn''t have exploded but I''m not so sure.

    That''s another reason to hide that I know the dork ¨C because he''s a Lumaria King. Not only does he break the law all the time but if people knew I''m on good terms with a Lumaria King, then they''d probably want to try and use that connection to get stuff out of him. Especially since he''s super smart and very good with magitech.

    Then again, they would probably think I''m lying or imagining being on good terms with a Lumaria King. Sometimes, I wonder that, myself. How could a worthless piece of shit like me ever be friends with someone so amazing? It really could just be hallucinations but I don''t like thinking on that too long because then it''d just mean there''s more wrong with me.

    "I did try learning other spells," I admit. "Um¡­ sound and self-enhancement. After¡­ after being put into that home. The wing home. It was, um¡­ suggested to me. And I tried but failed."

    Really badly. The dork claims I succeeded but I definitely didn''t. I''m still weak and easily broken and I can''t amplify sound. Sound is a bit more complex of a magic, I think, but self-enhancement should have been easy. I looked it up and found that nearly all mages learn it as an early spell.

    "Sound and self-enhancement?" Mr. Trey asks. "Tiffany didn''t mention you''d taken magic lessons."

    "Well¡­ she doesn''t know," I hug my knees even tighter. There''s no way out of revealing the dork, I guess. As long as he doesn''t ask me to prove the dork''s existence, I can still not get confirmation that he''s just a more complex hallucination of mine. "I didn''t tell her. I know it was really wrong to hide it but I didn''t want her to think I was trying to pretend to be one of the Lumaria Kings. But it was from someone who knows. H-he suggested that I learn how to enhance my body so that it''s tougher to hurt and to make me stronger so I can break free more easily if someone-if someone-if someone¡­ And how to amplify sound so that if someone tries to kidnap me, I can scream really, really loudly to get peoples'' attention. Well, I later found out that he just wanted to hear me roar like a dragon for the sound one and only said the scream thing because he knew it''d get me to try but I still thought it was a good idea. I can get my mana to move but that''s it. I don''t have any talent for magic and I don''t wanna learn any."

    The dork was really disappointed I wasn''t roaring like a dragon. At least he let me wear noise-reducing headphones when he demonstrated it to me. That would have been really scary otherwise.

    It was really scary anyway, since I could feel the roar vibrating my lungs and even the ground was shaking a bit. If I could fully hear the roar¡­ I definitely would have been a lot more scared.

    "Oh," I remember another. "I also tried learning telekinesis. But from the internet, not from¡­ the mage. Finding directions was easy on that ''cause it''s a basic spell most mages know. I wanted it in case I was struggling to untie my shoelaces but I''ve never had to deal with that again so I guess it''s okay I couldn''t learn. But I really don''t want to learn magic. Not anymore."

    The dork said that wanting to learn to untie shoelaces using telekinesis when I''m traumatized by magic learning and failures is called ''on a whim'', but I''m not sure he''s right about that.

    "Well," Mr. Trey says. "I''ll never try to make you learn magic, Xander. The choice is yours and if you ever do decide you want to, just let me know, okay?"

    "Okay."

    That ends the topic there and I''m glad for it. We finish breakfast soon after and I go up to the room I''m staying in to wait until it''s time to brush my teeth. Since I have a little bit of time before that, I changed into proper clothes, then go to the office attached to the room and boot up the PC.

    I know Mr. Trey said I can use the computer for a lot of things, but I haven''t really done that yet. There''s something I want to do, though, since they made us do it at the boys'' home and having not done it since arriving here bothers me.

    Once the computer is on and I''ve figured out how to open up the spreadsheets, I start making one to track my allowance spending. Back at the boys'' home, they issued out sheets that were already prepared for that sort of thing every week for us to fill out, and it would go into our allowance file. Ms. Johnson said it was to help us keep track of what we''re spending and learn to be responsible, but I think it was so that they knew what we were spending or money on¡­

    "Oh."

    That''s how they know about my savings, isn''t it? I never thought about that before but I did put into the sheet that I put some of the money into savings and how much. Mr. Trey must have known already how much I had saved up when he came to help me count it out because I''m sure he was given the allowance file.

    Setting up the spreadsheet is a bit hard for me, especially since I''m not really that good at spelling and its in-built checker apparently can''t understand me, so I decide to ask the dork as he always seems to know what I''m trying to ask.

    <u>[Xander]:</u> hao du u spel ''alaowins''?

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Allowance

    <u>[Xander]:</u> Toetool?

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Total Balance

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Are you trying to make an allowance spreadsheet to track your allowance activities?

    <u>[Xander]:</u> Yes.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Please hold.

    I have no idea what that''s supposed to mean so I wait. He says it a lot when he wants me to wait but never says what it is he wants me to hold. One of these days, I''ll be brave enough to ask him.

    After about ten minutes, I receive information from the dork on how to access an email account that I think he created for me. He tells me to do it on the computer so I do, and once I let him know I have it open, an email pops up and he tells me to download the file on it, then walks me through how to open it.

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    6/18/2023

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    6/25/2023

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    Snacks

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    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Games

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Movies/Shows

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Clothes

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Hobbies

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Savings

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Other

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Total Spent

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Allowance

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Starting Balance

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Total Balance

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Ending Balance

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Starting Savings

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr valign="top">

    <td width="20%">

    Total Savings

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    <td width="20%">

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That''s really simple and easy to use, I think, though I''ll definitely need to use a calculator a lot to work on it. It seems that there''s more to this spreadsheet than I thought, however, as the dork starts sending me a bunch of longer messages, so I decide to wait until he''s done to respond and thank him as I read through them.

    The dork is giving me instructions on how to use the spreadsheet better, which I''m glad for. I''ll probably need to write it all down so that I don''t have to keep going to his texts to keep track of it, but at least I have it.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> You can add in more rows if you come up with other stuff, just inform me and I shall walk you through it or generate a new chart if you wish. Also, the columns that start with a date are for the week starting on that date, not for that date and that date only.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> To get "Total Spent", just do =SUM() and between the (), click on the Snacks box for that column and drag down to the Other box. Doing so will highlight them and give you something like =SUM(B2;B8) and once you hit "ENTER", it will add up all of those boxes together.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Put your Allowance into the Allowance box.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> For the Starting Balance box, add the Ending Balance of the PREVIOUS week to the Allowance from the CURRENT week you''re on.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> For the Total Balance, type in = and then click on the Starting Balance for the CURRENT week, type the minus sign -, and then click on the Total Spent box for the CURRENT week. So you would get something like =B11-B9. Hit ENTER and it''ll subtract your spending for that week from how much you started with.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> That will tell you how much you have leftover after you''ve spent your allowance.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> For the two Savings boxes at the bottom, put in your Total Savings from the PREVIOUS week for the CURRENT week''s Starting Savings. For the first week, simply put in the amount you have saved up at the start of the week as your Starting Savings. Then in the Total Savings, do = and click on Savings, use the plus sign +, and then the Starting Savings for that week. You would get something like =B7+B14. Hit ENTER and it''ll add the two values together to get your Total Savings.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Also, don''t forget to use a calculator if you want to change values. So if you buy food on Monday and then again on Wednesday, use a calculator to add up your current Snacks box and how much you''ve spent, then put that number into the snacks box.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> If you want to be more of a normal person, I can generate a new spreadsheet that has the amounts you spend going from left-to-right instead of top-to-bottom. Means you only scroll down when adding in new weeks rather than scrolling further and further right.

    <u>[Xander]:</u> This iz fin thaynk u.

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> Anytime!

    <u>[Xander]:</u> Are u reel?

    <u>[Ultra High Jumper]:</u> There is a 0.13692% probability that I am, in fact, not real but a figment of imagination created by the hopes and dreams of others. However, I am not entirely certain of how accurate that estimate may be and may have went low. In addition, it is entirely irrelevant as even if I am a figment of imagination created by the hopes and dreams of others, I am still quite capable of interacting with real things. Therefore, I count myself as real.

    The dork has a point. If he''s able to interact with real things, then it doesn''t matter if he''s a hallucination of mine or not. What matters is that he is very nice to me and really helpful. I don''t think I would have managed to figure out how to make this on my own and he''s even told me a bunch of stuff about how to use it that I never would have.

    At least he didn''t go and just download it straight onto the computer and instead showed me how to do it¡­ he keeps doing that with both phones I have. The one that I have in case I run away and the one that Mr. Trey is letting me use. Mostly with the newer phone, and it''s some of the most random stuff ever.

    I don''t get why he thinks I should play a fruit attack game¡­

    Now that I have the file ready for me to use, I figure out how to change the dates in the top row so that I can put in this week''s stuff, including how much money I have saved up. While I could print this up here and just write on it like normal, I think doing it on the computer makes me feel more¡­ I don''t know the word. But it makes me feel¡­ uh¡­ now I can''t think of that other word. Confident doesn''t sound right but maybe that''s what it is for the second one.

    I save the file ¨C that''s something I know how to do already because I got into trouble at school a few times due to forgetting to save. Then the dork told me to just make it a habit of hitting CTRL+S when editing a document to save it once the file itself has been created and saved initially. That took me some time, but I''m in the habit now.

    My allowance chart created, I get up and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, only remembering once I''m spitting out the mouthwash that I haven''t done the morning comments Mr. Trey told me to do.

    "Um¡­" I stare at my reflection after putting away the teeth-brushing stuff. "I''m stupid and I''m ugly and I''m weak. But I had a lot of fun last night and didn''t get into trouble for it and¡­ um¡­ what''s a third one? Oh. Someone wanted to invite me over to a sleepover. Even if it was Luke and he didn''t invite me ''cause I was already sleeping."

    But the fact that he wanted to invite me over counts as something good, I think.

    The morning comments finished, I go back downstairs to find Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell dressed and preparing to leave. They tell me they had fun playing games with me last night and hope to see me again soon, then give Mr. Trey hugs and kisses before leaving.

    "You seem to be in a better mood now," Mr. Trey says once his parents are gone. "That''s good to see. Sorry for upsetting you during breakfast, Xander. I didn''t mean to bring up your old situation. I wish I''d realized sooner that might be a problem you dealt with."

    "O-okay."

    "I''m heading to the store," he tells me. "I need a few things for my office here at the house. Do you want to come with me?"

    "N-no," saying that feels really, really wrong.

    "Alright," he says. "Have fun, then."

    "C-can I use the theater room?"

    "Go ahead," he says. "You aren''t in trouble."

    "O-okay."

    I go to the theater room and explore it a little, then figure out how to set up the screen for watching stuff. Mr. Trey had a bunch of movies and shows already purchased on disc and ready for me to use if I wanted, but he also has a couple of streaming services I can use. The streaming service is what I''m interested in and after looking through to see what''s available, I find what I was looking for: a movie about wolves.

    "D-doc-dah-ku-dahkumentarree?" I try to sound out the word. "Dahkumentarree?"

    That''s a really big word but I know it''s the one that means a movie or show that provides more factual information about things. This isn''t me watching something for fun but to learn about stuff so Mr. Trey will probably not be mad at me when he gets back. I know I asked for permission to use the room, but I forgot to ask for permission to use the stuff in the room.

    He did say it was okay for me to use everything in here on my first day here, but I''m still not sure. I am sure that my stomach is a little bit rumbly, though, so I decide to make use of the other stuff. If Mr. Trey really is okay with me using this stuff, then it should be fine.

    When I go to examine the food choices for the snacks in here, I get reminded that there are signs on everything to show me how to use them. I want both popcorn and big, soft, warm pretzels with cheese sauce, so I set up both of those. For a drink, I ignore the soda choices and fill a cup with lemonade.

    None of the cups in here are glass. They''re all made of a hard plastic that I think has what''s called a frosted design. Some are ''clear'' and the others are red, like I''ve sometimes seen through the windows of some pizza restaurants. I''m fairly certain all of the cups were made of glass when Mr. Trey showed me the room. Did he swap them out for plastic in case I dropped them?

    I''m not sure how to feel about that. It does make me relieved, especially since I''ve dropped glass cups before. They give me plastic ones for meals now so that I don''t break more.

    Very carefully, I bring the cup of lemonade over to the seat I''ve picked out and put it into the right armrest''s cup holder. Then, I check on the food but they aren''t ready yet so I wait until they are, then realize I accidentally heated up more of the cheese sauce than I''ll need for two pretzels. I open up the bag of nacho chips and pour some into a bowl after putting in a lining for it, then drizzle the rest of the cheese on top. All of the food is placed onto a tray, then I go over to the seat and sit down.

    Something feels off here and it takes me a moment to realize what. I get up and carefully set the tray down, then hurry up to the room I''m staying in without running and grab Trenton. He gets to watch the documentary about wolves with me.

    Once I''m seated and ready, I play the movie and watch, eating as I do. I run out of food about twenty minutes into the movie but don''t want to push my luck with Mr. Trey so I don''t get up to make more. Unlike at a theater, I can pause the movie here in case I get up to go to the bathroom or if I want to make more food. It''s also not a movie for entertainment so that also makes a difference in how Mr. Trey will react, I''m sure.

    When the movie ends, I make sure to throw away my trash and take the dishes to the kitchen, where Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are talking about peach cobbler.

    "Hey, Xander," Mr. Trey says when I enter the kitchen. "Perfect timing. Have you ever had peach cobbler before? Katie was thinking of making some for dessert but wasn''t sure if you''d like cobbler."

    "Um¡­ a long time ago, I think?" I answer. "I don''t really know."

    "Okay," he says as Ms. Katie takes the tray from me. "Did you enjoy the movie?"

    "It was a da-da-dosumint¡­ dasumentarree-"

    "Dah-que-men-ta-ree," Mr. Trey slowly says.

    "Dah-que-men-ta-ree."

    "Documentary."

    "Documentary," I say. "One of those. It was about wolves."

    "Learn anything interesting?"

    "Wolves are di-gi-ti-grade," I tell him, making sure to carefully say the word so I don''t mess it up. "That means they walk on their toes. I didn''t know that they didn''t walk on their whole feets. Apparently, their paws aren''t their whole feets. At least, that''s what I understood from the do-do-docu-documentary. I could be wrong."

    "Do you like wolves?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Why is he asking me so many questions about the movie? Or is he just trying to make conversation? Should I try to show interest in his stuff, too? Is that what a good boy would do here?

    "Y-yeah," I answer. "Um¡­ did you already go to the store?"

    "I did," he answers. "Didn''t take me too long. Just needed more ink for my printer and wanted to pick up some extra pens as well."

    "O-oh," I shift a little uncomfortably. "Um. Was it okay for me to use that stuff?"

    "You mean the food from the theater room?" Mr. Trey asks and I nod. "Yeah, Xander. You''re welcome to eat what''s in there when using the room, that''s why I have them in there. Just make sure to clean up any messes you make."

    "I-I did," I tell him. "Um¡­ thank you."

    "You''re welcome," he says. "You''ve still got time until lunch, is there anything you want to do?"

    "Relax in the peach garden."

    "Alright," he chuckles. "Go ahead and do that."

    "Okay," I say. "Bye. Sorry and thank you."

    I hurry off to go relax in the back yard before I get even more confused and scared, but I''m also happy. That documentary was really nice and watching it kind of made me feel like I was at the movies, something I''ve not been able to really do on my own before unless I wanted to use up a big chunk of my allowance and get crowded in with others. Not only that, but Mr. Caldwell really seems like he''s okay with me using that room for watching documentaries, so maybe I''ll watch more in there in the future.

    Not movies and shows or playing video games, though. Only good boys should really do stuff like that. Bad and stupid boys like me should stick to educational things.

    As I slip on my shoes, I think about S.G. He''s sent me so many pictures since he left for camping, but he didn''t send me any so far today. Should I have sent some pictures back other than the couple from me baking yesterday? That probably upset him and he won''t want to talk with me anymore or let me bowl with him and Connor and Sam.

    I still feel disappointed that he''s not texting me anymore, though. It''s already past ten in the morning so he''s definitely upset with me. I don''t know why I''m so disappointed about this. It''s not like we were friends or that I was expecting friendship. Maybe I can try to save things by sending him a picture of¡­ oh! The peach trees! He might like that. I''ll do that, yeah.

    A decision made, I finish lacing up my shoes and go through the back door so I can find a spot to relax.

 Chapter 017

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "What I don''t understand is why it keeps shaking," a woman says from out of sight. "We''ve run tests and analyses and nothing is telling us anything."

    "That''s a concern," a man responds as I hear what sounds like papers on a clipboard flipping. "If we can''t get the shaking to stop, then it won''t be stable enough as a generator. The vibrations can cause parts of it to shake look or break and that could shut down the generator. Considering it''s meant to be a backup supply, that''s something which needs fixing before we can finalize it."

    "The shaking was caused by a fault in one of the power matrices," I say. "As raw magical energy converts into electrical energy, it undergoes a process that creates vibrations. The power matrices aren''t supposed to be affected by that which is probably why no one looked there. As it turns out, the power matrices themselves were deciding to vibrate as well. I''ve replaced them with a different alloy in this one to see if that will work. The redzalius metal costs about thirteen percent more than the ezvredinine but it should fix the vibrations issue. Haven''t tested on the bigger design yet, let me get these last couple of bolts into place."

    "Uh¡­ who is that?" The woman asks. "And why does it sound like a kid?"

    "That would be Lucas Gates," the man responds. "Son of the owners of the company. Lucas, it''s a Saturday. Go enjoy it while you''re still a kid."

    "I''m having fun with this," I respond. "And the reason you can''t see me, ma''am, is because I''m under the generator at the moment."

    It''s an industrial-sized generator that''s being developed to power large factories during power outages. The machine is ten feet in height, eight in width, and twenty in length. An absolute beast of a machine that''s bigger than any backup generator we''ve made yet¡­ and theoretically, more efficient as well.

    Like most magitech generators, it uses mana crystals as fuel. They''re in abundance from the crystal mines due to the fact that they regrow and anyplace wealthy enough to afford one of these things can afford to buy enough crystals to power it. The purpose of the generators is to convert the mana within the crystals into the electrical energy needed to power the building. If filled to capacity with mana crystals, it can power a large-scale factory for twenty-four hours.

    Normally, a beast of this size wouldn''t work as well as several smaller ones due to loss of energy in the conversion process. However, I came up with a formula that works for this and we''ve been testing it out.

    This is different from the power cores that the Lumaria King kid keeps stealing/buying from us by teleporting in and taking one while leaving cash behind. Those are cores with actual electrical mana in them, but those aren''t too viable for large-scale projects. Lightning magic crystals are rare enough even with replenishing mines and it''s not like I''m going to milk myself dry of mana all the time to fuel things.

    That''s why most places want mana generators that can handle the job. Mana crystals are cheaper to purchase and the company would likely have storage to keep two of these filled for a week if needed and the ability to buy more quickly if the power outage is longer than that. A place like that would also buy two of them, to have one as a backup for the other.

    Though one of the things about this generator is that it has backups contained within it. Rather than just one power matrix it has eight. Those are unlikely to fail at all and they have the highest chance of something failing out of all parts of it. One of the benefits to this new generator is the reduced chance of needing a backup in case it fails.

    "Nnnn-haa!" I get the last bolt tightened. "That one was a bit resistant for some reason. Alright!"

    I roll out from under the generator using the skateboard I was lying on and stand up. The two workers who were talking have walked over to this side of the generator by this point and take me in as I take them in. Both of them are wearing white lab coats ¨C not mechanics but brains. The man I recognize as he''s sort of in charge of the project, but I don''t recognize the woman.

    I probably look a bit odd to her. A thirteen-year-old boy with platinum-blond hair and electric-blue eyes, dressed in sneakers, shorts, and a sleeveless shirt, with streaks of grease and other things on me, my face flushed and body a little sweaty due to the exertion I''ve been doing for the last hour as I changed out the power matrices.

    "Hello," I wave. "I''m Luke. Elias?"

    "This is Paula," Elias gestures to her. "She was brought into the project early this week, though I don''t think you''ve been here at the same time as her yet. Paula, this is Luke. He''s the one who developed part of the design for the generator, including the improved power matrix."

    "You did?" Paula''s eyes are wide. "You look pretty young."

    "Only thirteen," I grin at her. "It''s based off my power matrix design for the new generator that''s coming out next month. I adapted it to a larger scale for this big boy."

    "That''s impressive," she says. "How many grades did you skip?"

    "None," I tell her. "I mean, they actually wanted me to back when doing the screening for kindergarten but my parents nixed that because they wanted me to be around kids my age so I could have a healthy social life. Didn''t really work too well as I tend to babble a lot when I''m not drained of mana so making friends has been really hard. But I do have one! He''s pretty cool and doesn''t mind zoning out when I start rambling, especially about stuff he doesn''t understand like magitech stuff. Do you want a demonstration of the new setup? Oh, Elias ¨C I did alter the power matrix formula a little bit again to account for the properties of redzalius metal. Made a smaller-scale version to test it out with and there weren''t any vibrations."

    "Sure," Elias says. "Is it that guy right there?"

    "Yup," I walk over to the smaller generator he pointed to. "Has a couple of crystals still in it, so let''s fire ''im up!"

    I adjust a few of its dials, twist a knob, then grab the pull cord and yank it back a few times. Even if it''s magitech, it''s currently off and so needs something to tell it to work. After the third yank of the cord, a few small strips of light along its edges turn on, faintly glowing green. A small hum sounds out for a few moments, then quiets down once the manual power portion shuts off, the generator now online.

    "As you can see," I point at the monitors. "It''s registering a readout of twenty-five kilowatts produced. If we adjust the settings like this, you can adjust it down to fifteen kilowatts, or up like this to thirty kilowatts. It was on twenty-five because that''s what I''d left it at after my prior tests. As you can see on this monitor here¡­"

    We talk for a few minutes as I demonstrate the lowered vibration values between the upgrade and the previous version, even as we crank the generator all the way up to full and leave it running. Unlike a traditional gas-powered generator that people who can''t afford magitech use, this one doesn''t produce dangerous fumes and doesn''t run loudly.

    To normal people, anyway. I can hear crackling as the raw magical energy is converted into electric magical energy. However, that doesn''t count as me hearing it comes from my ability to sense electricity.

    Once the demonstration ends, Elias runs a few more checks on the bigger generator, then we turn it on to see how it runs. For the next hour, we examine it and measure readings and determine that the issue with the vibrations has been fixed.

    "Alright," Elias says after we turn off the generator. "Now that that''s been taken care of, all we need to do know is¡­ turn it from a hatchet job of adjustments into a proper machine."

    With the machine constantly being tweaked in some way or another, this is far from the final version. It now runs as intended so they''re going to clean up the design and rebuild it so that it''s entirely new parts, then test that to make sure everything still works right.

    "Cool," I say. "I think I''m going to get cleaned up, then go binge on junk food for lunch."

    "Enjoy," Elias laughs.

    I bid goodbye to Paula as well, then head to my office and take a shower in its attached bathroom. Once that''s done and I''m cleaned up, smelling nice, and in a fresh outfit, I leave and meet my driver, asking him to take me home. Dad went shopping the other day and we have plenty of food for me to binge on. Parker''s hanging out with his other friends and Xander doesn''t like me so I don''t have anyone to hang out with right now.

    That''s okay, though. I can play video games or something.

    As I''m on the way home, the phone I grabbed this morning rings and I realize that it''s Dad''s phone and not mine. Whoops? I guess Dad didn''t notice, though, since he didn''t have Mom call me to let me know and he didn''t come by the workshop to swap phones.

    "Hi, Trey!" I greet him after answering the call. "I apparently accidentally grabbed Dad''s phone when I left, so if you call mine he''ll probably realize. That''s one downside of having identical phones, huh? Well, it''s been hours and he hasn''t noticed so it''d be funny if you called it and he realized. I''m on the way home now though and will probably be there in about fifteen minutes. I was working on something at the workshop and-"

    "Luke," Trey interrupts. "While I''d prefer one of your parents, you can probably answer the question, too."

    "Oh, cool!" I say. "What is it? Dad''s favorite color? It''s chartreuse. Just kidding! It''s actually fuchsia, the weirdo."

    "I don''t know much about magic," Trey says. "But is it possible to subconsciously use magic?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "Xander does it all the time."

    "What do you mean?" Trey asks.

    "He enhances his strength and possibly how resistant he is to harm," I tell him. "I realized it on Tuesday. I asked him about learning magic and he kind of reacted negatively to it, like there was something related to trauma with it. Like, he really didn''t want to and even commented about how ''it''s magic'' was reason enough to not. I figured it''s probably linked to why he doesn''t want to learn magic."

    "Is this going somewhere?" Trey asks.

    "Yeah!" I answer. "The answer to your question! So anyway, I got home and started thinking about what sorts of magic might interest Xander! Because everyone needs to at least know how to defend themselves, right? So I was thinking, he could learn self-enhancement magics! That''s one every mage learns at some point because it''s useful if you get mugged or something. Anyway, as I was thinking about it I remembered that when I helped Xander into the pool, he was insanely strong for someone as scrawny as him. Not, like, super strength or anything but definitely stronger than he should be at his size and lack of muscle.

    "That''s when it hit me," I tell Trey. "The reason why Xander ate as much as he did at lunch! It''s because he''s got a self-enhancement spell running to boost his strength and probably his resistance to harm. He''s not aware of it, but he''s casting it subconsciously because he''s scared of getting hurt. I don''t know if he''s got it running all the time or just when he''s scared or uncomfortable, but he was definitely enhancing his strength in the pool on Monday. Since Xander''s not aware of it and seems to be averse to learning magic, I figured I''d wait a few weeks, long enough for him to get used to me at classes if he lasts that long before saying he doesn''t want me around anymore, then have Parker demonstrate using a knife to cut something like an apple and then have him stab me with it and ask Xander if he wants to learn how to be able to take on a knife. With as much as he''s probably been enhancing himself out of fear of getting hurt, he''s probably built up a sizable pool of mana, which would definitely let him eventually take a knife without getting hurt. Since it''d help protect him, I''m sure he''d say yes¡­ as long as we don''t actually stab him with a knife. Then I''d go ''Congratulations! You actually already know the spell!'' and then teach him how to cast it properly. Since he''s already doing it, he''d learn super easy! Oh, and I could tell that he was starting to cast some sort of spell in his throat on Monday, but I''m not sure what it was and it never did anything even after it was completed. I didn''t realize it until I was thinking about everything on Tuesday or I''d have told you Monday."

    Trey is quiet for several long moments and I realize that I dumped a bunch of stuff on him and he''s trying to process it.

    "Short version," I say. "Xander''s subconsciously using a self-enhancement spell to boost his strength and possibly toughness. I was going to wait a bit before offering to teach him it so that he can use it to defend himself when attacked. If he said ''yes'', then I''d let him know he actually already knows it and is casting it subconsciously. I guess he learned it at some point in the past and doesn''t know that he''s casting it."

    "He tried learning it a few years ago," Trey tells me. "He told me this earlier, though he said he failed to learn it."

    "It''s possible he failed to cast it but not learn it," I say. "It''s possible to do that, since it takes practice to cast a spell. He''s probably casting it really inefficiently, which is resulting in wasted mana. The subconscious casting probably started up as a reaction to fear and a desire to not get hurt. And no, you don''t need a magical bloodline to do that. Anyone can subconsciously cast a spell they learned regardless of heritage. Just imagine how much mana he''s built up. Probably at least three to four times an ordinary person''s. Maybe even five times as much."

    "Thank you, Luke."

    "Oops, sorry, started babbling again."

    "You did," Trey says.

    "And by the way?" I ask. "When I start sparking in the hair, that''s a subconscious casting of magic, too. Oh, and in case you missed it, I did realize that Xander had cast a spell in his throat on Monday. I don''t know what it was as nothing happened, but it was probably subconscious casting as well since he doesn''t want to learn magic. Since it''s Xander, I like to think that he was going to breathe fire like a dragon."

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    "I''ve hit my quota for the day, so I''m going to hang up now," Trey tells me. "Thanks for the information, Luke, and have a good one."

    "Bye!"

    I set the phone down on the seat and wait the rest of the ride to the house in bouncy silence. I guess I talked a bit too much for Trey, but oh, well! He probably would have preferred to ask my mom or dad but accepted me so that''s who he got to answer his questions. I hope I was of help for whatever he was trying to do!

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    One good thing that''s happened this afternoon is that I learned that S.G. wasn''t mad at me or annoyed with me or anything like that. The reason he wasn''t sending me texts and pictures a lot today was because his phone''s battery died while he was sleeping and he discovered that after he woke up this morning. He put it to charge, ate breakfast¡­ and then forgot about his phone while hanging out with Connor and their friend from school, a girl named Ann.

    One bad thing that''s happened this afternoon is that I realized I was being extremely selfish and bad by thinking S.G. wasn''t mad at me. He didn''t need to keep texting me about his trip and sending me pictures of the stuff they were doing, he''s got his own life and friends. I''m just a nobody to him. Just because he was sending me a bunch, that doesn''t mean he can''t suddenly stop for no reason.

    One uncertain thing that''s happened to me this afternoon is Mr. Trey texted me and asked me to come to his office with lightning headphones. That''s not their real name but I can''t remember what is. They''re headphones he bought me to dampen or even block out sound and there are sets of them all over the house. It''s in case there''s a thunderstorm, so that I can put them on and not get scared by the booms.

    I don''t know why Mr. Trey wants to talk with me and why he wanted me to have one of the headphones with me, but I can''t think of anything good. I can''t really think of anything bad that would explain the headphones, but I definitely can''t think of anything good.

    He''s also not responded when I knocked on the office door to let him know that I''m here and that''s only making me more anxious. Especially because it''s almost time for me to go to the pet store to pet the dogs, if I''m allowed to. I think I am, since Mr. Trey hasn''t said I''m in trouble for anything, but this may be that moment.

    "Enter," Mr. Trey finally calls, so I enter his office. "Sorry about that, Xander. I called Tristan ¨C Luke''s dad ¨C to ask him something and got Luke instead. He apparently grabbed his father''s phone by mistake when he left home earlier. It was something Luke could answer and I made the mistake of asking him¡­ so I had to call his mom after to see if I could get more information. That took a little bit of time, then I did a little bit of research."

    Good. He didn''t tell me to come in closer, away from the door, or that I needed to close the door. I''m really scared right now and want to try and run if needed even though my body is still really sore from all the exercise I''ve gotten this week.

    "When you were trying to learn how to amplify your voice," Mr. Trey says. "So that you could scream very loudly if someone tried to hurt you¡­ was it a spell for simple sound amplification or a voice-specific one?"

    He wants to know about the magics that I tried to learn on my own? But I already told him that I don''t want to learn magic! I guess it really isn''t a choice and he was lying to me earlier¡­ I knew I should''ve looked in his eyes. Better to tell him everything.

    "Voice-specific," I answer, doing my best to speak clearly and not stutter, in case that will upset him more. This only makes me more scared, though, and it''s hard. "The dork said that it''s easier than simple sound amplification because I''m not altering the sound outside but as it''s made. It''s done in the throat."

    "The dork?" Mr. Trey asks and I feel my face heat up. "In case you weren''t aware, Xander, you mumble a lot. I''ve heard you mention ''the dork'' before."

    "I-I don''t remember his real name," my face heats up even more. I really want to curl up and hide somewhere. "And he won''t tell it to me again after I accidentally called him that once. He says it''s okay even though it''s mean but he''s kind of¡­ I know it''s not right to call people a dork but that''s the best thing I can think of to describe him, I''m sorry!"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey holds up a hand. "Deep breaths. You''re not in trouble. Is he another kid?"

    "Y-yeah," I answer. "Um¡­ I think he''s the one who reported a-a-about-t-"

    "About what your previously family did?" Mr. Trey asks and I nod. "Good for him. So you two are friends?"

    Now I need to come clean with Mr. Trey about the dork.

    "N-no," I answer. "H-he¡­ just sometimes lets me h-hang out at his w-workshop when I g-get s-scared. A-and asks me to h-help him with s-stuff. H-he likes playing with t-tech and m-magic a-and¡­ h-he''s probably even s-smarter than L-Luke."

    Which is a huge thing, I''ve learned. Luke is apparently insanely smart when it comes to tech. The rest of him needs work, though.

    Bad, Xander! No mean thoughts!

    "H-he also knows h-how to e-explain things in w-ways I-I can u-understand," I add. "B-but I don''t l-like to a-ask him t-too often b-because I d-don''t w-want t-to b-bother h-him."

    Mr. Trey stares at me for a few seconds and I just know I''m in trouble for hiding this stuff from him.

    "I can see this topic is making you uncomfortable," Mr. Trey says. "And I can make a guess as to why it is, too. Before we switch back over to what I brought you here for, Xander, I do want to say something. If someone tries to pressure you into breaking the law, firmly and repeatedly tell them ''no''. You can text me, Quinn, Franklin, Roderick, or whoever to come get you."

    He figured out that the dork breaks the law but isn''t asking me questions about it? That''s so weird¡­

    "O-okay."

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "Now, back to what I wanted to talk with you about. So this other kid tried to teach you how to amplify your voice by casting the spell in your throat?"

    "In this part of me," I touch where my voice box is. "He said it''s easiest to influence your voice from there and can even amplify whispers, or make it so that the sound you''re making with it is more stable so that it travels further before getting quiet."

    "Something you said earlier got me curious," Mr. Trey says. "That''s what I wanted to talk with Tristan about and what I talked with Luke and Melody about. Are you aware that it''s possible to subconsciously cast magic?"

    "Um¡­"

    "Where you do it without knowing you''re doing it," he explains.

    "That''s possible?"

    "Yes," Mr. Trey gestures to me. "I think you do it already. Can you put on your headphones and scream as loud as you can?"

    "Screaming is really bad," I look down at the headphones. "I''m sorry for waking you up so much, Mr. Trey."

    "It''s okay to scream this time," Mr. Trey tells me. "Set the headphones to whatever setting you want so that it''s quieter or you can''t hear it, then try and scream as loud as you can for me, okay? I want to check something."

    This makes me scared but I do as Mr. Trey orders and pull on the headphones, turn them to full noise cancellation, and scream as loud as I can for as long as I can. Mr. Trey gestures for me to do it again, and I do. This repeats until I''ve screamed five times, then he gestures for me to take off the headphones. I''m really scared and now my throat is really sore.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "That scream just now isn''t as loud as the scream I''m hearing in my room from your nightmares."

    "Sorry," I try not to cry or sniffle but it''s hard.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You''re not in trouble. There''s nothing to apologize about here. The point is that if your screams from a few feet away from me are quieter than what I hear in my room at night, and that''s as loud as you can make it, then you''re using magic."

    "Huh?" I ask. "But that doesn''t make sense, s-sir."

    "Subconscious casting," he says. "Luke mentioned it while we were talking, but he noticed you did it on Monday. When you were trying to break free from him, you started casting a spell in your throat. Since you''re averse to learning magic, that suggests subconscious casting. The dolt says he thinks you were trying to breathe fire."

    Mr. Trey called him a dolt¡­ I have to force myself not to laugh at that but it also confuses me because that''s a mean thing to say.

    "However," he continues. "It''s possible to subconsciously cast magic you''ve learned in the past. What I think you''re doing, Xander, is casting the voice-amplification spell when you''re scared, but without realizing you''re doing it. Your instincts and desire for someone to come rescue you causes you to do that. It''s an instinctive, subconscious attempt at getting help. Though you didn''t manage to cast the spell when you tried, you did learn the spell and your body and brain are using that. The spell is probably incomplete and so wastes a lot of mana."

    This scares me for a lot of reasons I can''t put into words and that scares me even more. I''m not sure what''s really going on here now other than the fact that I apparently do cast magic and Mr. Trey probably wants me to use it for him.

    "It''s very effective, however," he tells me. "Based on what I was able to find out, any number of things can cause subconscious casting. I had a suspicion for your reason and¡­ you know I''m talking with a therapist regarding how to handle your situation, right?"

    "Y-yeah," I answer. "Y-you said that he''s the one who told you to suggest saying three bad things and three good things that I did or about me or that happened each morning."

    "What?" Mr. Trey looks confused for a moment. "Well, I guess that''s one way of doing it. The actual activity was saying no more than three bad things about yourself, then countering them with three to five good things about yourself.

    Stupid fucking worthless piece of shit brain. That''s so far off from what I was doing. No wonder it doesn''t do anything for me, it''s completely wrong! Though it probably wouldn''t do anything for me anyway due to how worthless I am, anyway, so it''s not like it matters too much.

    "I called him after I finished with Luke and Melody and after talking with Tiffany for a few minutes," Mr. Trey says. "And asked him about your use of it in your nightmares. He said that it''s possible that you''re wanting someone to come rescue you but are scared no one will hear you and come. That triggered a subconscious desire to be louder so that you could be heard by someone who would come.

    "I talked with Tiffany," he continues. "And your screams from nightmares here are definitely louder than back at the boys'' home. They were loud, but not ear-breaking at close range. At the orphanage, you also had a roommate there who could wake you up or get help."

    "I''m not-I''m not sure I know what you''re saying. S-sorry for being stupid, Mr. Trey."

    "In short," Mr. Trey says. "Your very loud screams at night might be you casting the voice-amplification spell without realizing it or trying to because you''re scared and want help, but are afraid no one will hear you and come. That your subconscious is doing it from your sleep to try and protect you from the nightmares. You don''t like them, do you?"

    "I-I don''t, sir."

    "And you wish that something would stop them, right?"

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "Then I think that''s what is happening," he tells me. "I want to try something with you tonight, if that''s okay?"

    Now I''m really scared. There''s only one thing that someone would want to try with me at night and it''s not something good.

    "If you agree to it," he says. "We can set up a radio monitor in your room and another in my room. The one for your room transmits sound to the one in my room, which plays it. This is a live feed rather than something you have to intentionally do.

    "Before you reach the screaming stage," he says. "You probably do get a bit noisy as you try to fight the dream. When it doesn''t stop, you start screaming out of fear and your subconscious mind starts amplifying that sound to try and get help.

    "What the monitor might do," Mr. Trey continues. "Is let me hear that earlier stage first. I''m not a heavy sleeper so it would wake me up. Then, I could come and wake you up from the nightmare before you start screaming. If you don''t reach that stage, it might be easier for you to fall back asleep."

    Really, it would probably be so that I don''t wake everyone up and so that Mr. Trey can fall back asleep more easily. However, I don''t want a monitor. Mr. Trey also hasn''t presented this as a choice so I know I don''t get to decide that. Now he gets to monitor me in the room because I can''t stop screaming in my sleep.

    "And I know you''re probably worried about having a monitor in your room," Mr. Trey says. "This one would be sound-only. It would not be able to take pictures or videos, and it would lack the ability to record anything. All it would do is transmit sound from your room to mine. And you can turn it off and on as you wish.

    "The choice is yours," he tells me. "This is something I thought might be a good idea to try, but I know you might not want to have something monitoring you in your sleep even if it''s just sound. If you don''t want to, then we can keep doing things as we currently are, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    "So," Mr. Trey says. "Do you want to give this a try?"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú later that night

    "Xander!" One of the chocolate bars says as it continues to sear my side. "Xander, wake up! Ow! Xander! Xander, wake up! Ack! Xander!"

    I wake with a start and find Mr. Trey in here, a scratch on his left cheek and a bruise under his right eye.

    "It''s okay, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "You''re okay, the nightmare is over."

    "It was awful!" I cry. "A bunch of grapes tied me up using licorice and then melting chocolate bars were pushing into me and burning me and they were going to start shoving pineapples into all of my holes like my noses and ears and mouth and my-my-my other holes and they were going to do that after the chocolates burned me enough but then I woke up and why are you hurt I''m sorry for waking up you when you need to sleep after you get hurt I didn''t mean it!"

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "Remember¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ good. Keep going. Let me get you a glass of water real quick."

    Mr. Trey grabs the empty cup off the nightstand and enters my bathroom. I can hear the sink running as I continue to do the deep breaths, then it stops and he returns with the cup half-filled with water.

    "Here," Mr. Trey hands it to me. "Take small sips and remember to breathe between them. Good¡­ good¡­ do you remember what your nightmare was about?"

    "Um¡­ no? I''m sorry."

    "It''s okay," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "H-how did you get hurt?" I ask. "D-did someone attack you?"

    "Did someone attack me?" Mr. Trey reaches up and touches his cheek. "Well¡­ it seems that before you switch to the screaming stage, you flail around a lot."

    "Huh?"

    "You hit me while I was trying to wake you and-"

    "I''msorryI''msorryI''msorryI''msorryI''msorry-"

    "You''re not in trouble, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You were asleep and it''s partly my fault. I got in close to try and stop you from flailing around. It seemed like you were trying to fight off someone and I was worried you''d hurt yourself."

    "S-sorry."

    "Deep breaths," Mr. Trey tells me. "And remember to sip."

    While I do as he says, Mr. Trey grabs the monitor off of one of the nightstands and looks at it. After I agreed to give this a try, he took me to the store to let pick out the one I saw and liked. It''s really a baby monitor, which I don''t like, but at least it looks like a wolf. They had a huge variety of them in that section.

    While this one can transmit sound and can be turned on and off, Mr. Trey can apparently use his to talk to this one as well. If he presses a button on his (a button the back of the neck for it), it''ll transmit whatever is being said by that one to this one. I guess that''s kind of cool.

    Another thing that I think is cool about this one is that it just looks like a wolf figure made out of plastic. Biodegradable plastic made in a sustainable way, too, so it''s good for the environment. That store only sells products made out of materials good for the environment, which is really nice.

    That''s also not what I was thinking about, but I guess that''s a good thing, too. There are no visible buttons or speaker meshes on the wolf, so if someone else saw it, they would probably think it''s just a table decoration. In other words, if Luke looks in my room again, he won''t have further reason to think I''m a baby. I like that.

    "It seems like this worked," Mr. Trey tells me. "I woke up not to you screaming but you begging for them to stop and saying ''no'' over and over. You did start to get louder toward the end there, so I think you were starting to switch over to screaming."

    "S-sorry."

    "Don''t apologize," Mr. Trey says. "There''s no reason for you to."

    "But I hurt you."

    "In your sleep," Mr. Trey tells me. "If anyone has blame here, then it''s me. Now. Do you want to try to go back to sleep, or do you want to play some Go Fish until you''ve calmed down a bit more?"

    Mr. Trey probably wants me to say the first one so that he can get back to bed. At least Ms. Katie and the security guys weren''t woken up by my screams. I''m still scared a lot because of the nightmare, but I''m also really tired as well. That''s new for here. Every other night I''ve been here, it''s taken me a lot longer for my heart to stop beating fast and for me to feel tired again.

    "I-I think I''m able to go back to sleep," I tell him.

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "Why don''t you lie back down and I''ll tuck you back in? And if you get scared and don''t want to be alone, remember that you can come to my room and we can play Go Fish or something until you fall back asleep, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    Mr. Trey pulls back the blanket and I lie back down, then he covers me back up and makes sure I''m tucked back in.

    "Good night, Xander."

    "Night, Mr. Trey."

 Chapter 018

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "-which is why you always kill the duck before blowing up the house," I finish. "Does that make sense?"

    "Out of context," Xavier says. "That would sound extremely wrong, Luke."

    "Huh?" I ask. "Oh! I didn''t say what I was talking about again, did it?"

    "No," he chuckles as he makes a left turn. "But you''ve talked about that game while I''m driving you around enough times that I figured it out immediately. And no, I still don''t understand why you should kill the duck before blowing up the house. You went on a tangent and didn''t actually explain that bit."

    "I didn''t?"

    "Nope."

    "Oh!" I say. "Because if you blow up the house and the duck is too close, the duck gets roasted by the fire and all of the feathers are burned off. Turns out, that duck is a unique mob in the game with a rare spawn except for that one guaranteed one and its feathers can be used to craft special arrows! And using those arrows makes it easier to kill a boss that''s, like, six times as far into the game you are. As in, you can kill it in only a quarter of the attacks! That''s pretty awesome, isn''t it?"

    "Sounds so," Xavier says. "We''re almost there. Switching game topics, the one you''re getting is being released as a digital copy, right?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "I already downloaded it at home. But in-store, you can get some cool merch for it! Including if you get the collector''s edition set for the game. Mom pre-ordered that for me, so we''re just going to pick it up."

    While I don''t play video games all the time, I do play them plenty often. They''re a fun way to pass the time and let me do stuff I ordinarily can''t. Adventuring through unknown lands, taking down the big bad, exploring space¡­ all sorts of fun things! Parker recommended me this new game and I can''t wait to play it when I get home. He''s hanging out with his friends again today or I''d have invited him over to hang out while I play it. I''m sure they''re busy playing it in a sort of party format or whatever it is groups of friends do when a cool new game comes out. Usually, Parker just watches me and giggles anytime I miss something he''s already found if he''s played past that point already.

    Which he usually has since I do a lot more stuff than he does and so don''t have as much time to play games as him.

    "Do you want me to come into the store with you?" Xavier asks. "Or stay out here?"

    I peek out the window of the car as he parks. The lot''s not that packed for the game store so it''s probably not crowded. Most of the people who came in to buy the game or stuff for it probably did earlier today. It''s almost dinnertime and I deliberately went shopping for other stuff before coming to pick up the game since I knew that if I had to wait in a line for too long, I''d probably start sparking in my hair. I wasn''t shopping all day, I just figured I''d make the actual visit to the game store to be closer to dinnertime to make it even less likely that I''d have to wait for very long.

    Then I ended up ready early and wanted to leave then, so I went to go buy other stuff.

    "You can stay here," I tell Xavier as I look at him again. "It shouldn''t be too bad! Back in a few!"

    I unbuckle and get out of the car, then hurry over to the game store and see that there are only a few customers in here, most of whom are examining things. There''s only one person in line so I step into it. The customer ahead of me is a woman with a boy about ten years old, and she seems really angry that they don''t have¡­ oh! The game I''m getting!

    "I''m sorry, ma''am," the employee tells her. "But we already sold out of all of the copies of the game, including the collectors'' edition. Each store was only sent so many copies and it was a highly-anticipated game. We ran out by noon."

    "That''s ridiculous," she says. "You can''t stock a game and then run out of it! This is a store! I know you have some, you just don''t want me to buy the game! Go to the back and grab a copy."

    Ugh. One of these customers.

    "Hey, Lucas!" Another worker comes over to the counter. "I can get you at this register, let me go get your stuff."

    "Thanks, Greg!" I wave to him as I move over to the other register. "And I go by Luke now and I ain''t no fluke!"

    "Back in a minute," he snorts and walks to the door to the back.

    "Yes, you do!" The woman exclaims. "This is a store! You can''t list something without actually having it in stock!"

    "Ma''am," the employee says. "We have limited space for storing product and the company that made the game-"

    "I don''t care what you''re saying, you''re just trying not to sell me a copy of the game!"

    Argh. This customer just won''t shut up, will she? I want to say something but Mom keeps telling me not to when this happens because I tend to make things worse. If Mom were here, she''d definitely have a way to deal with this customer, and in a way that won''t cause her to attack, too! Admittedly, that was only one time, and that dude was already looking like he was going to punch the employee. Better him throw a fist at someone who can take him down in an instant than a scrawny worker who''d probably snap like a toothpick between three fingers if he got punched.

    "This is the first part of your stuff," Greg returns with a box, setting it down on the counter in front of me. "One collectors'' edition-ma''am!"

    "You did have a copy of it!" The woman brandishes my copy of it to the employee she''s talking with. "You liar!"

    "Ma''am, give that back," I say. "I paid for that already."

    "No, you didn''t," she says. "Just because he brought it out to you, that doesn''t mean you paid for it!"

    "I pre-ordered it," I tell her. "Three months ago. I-"

    "Shut up, kid."

    "Ma''am," the employee she was arguing with says. "Luke already paid for that game. You need to give it back."

    "No," she says. "You were hiding this game in the back for someone, probably a friend of yours, right? You need to sell it to actual customers instead of hiding it for your favorites. I was here first, that means you sell it to me. Not to some brat who looks like he''s a little too pampered. My son doesn''t get nice things often and-"

    Tzz-zz-zz!

    Everyone jumps at that sound, including myself. I got angry at her comment and my torso became lightning-charged for a moment. It destroyed pretty much my entire shirt. This is one of the reasons why I wear the leotard underneath.

    "Are you threatening me?" She asks. "You do know that people go to jail for that, don''t you, little brat-"

    "Ma''am!" The employee she''s with interrupts her very loudly. "You need to put that game down and leave. You are now banned from the store for harassing other customers and-"

    "Harassing?" She asks. "You saw him-"

    "I HAVE A CONDITION!" I yell. "My magic does that on its own when I get angry and I am not a pampered little brat! You think because I have money, I don''t have problems? I have a lot of problems, thank you very much! I already paid for that game and they were holding it until I could pick it up and-"

    "Luke," a voice interrupts me and I look over to find Mom standing there. "Deep breaths. You''re starting to spark more."

    "S-sorry," I take a shaky breath as I try to figure out what Mom is doing here.

    "Am I correct in assuming the game she is holding is my son''s?" Mom asks the employee who was dealing with the other customer. Phil, I think his name is? "And that this is what''s started him blowing up?"

    "Correct," Phil answers. "Greg was pulling Luke''s stuff out of the box to show him and she took it."

    "It''s not paid for yet, that means it''s mine."

    "My son already paid for that game," Mom tells her. "It''s like when you order food at a fast-food place. You place your order, you pay for your food, and you wait until it''s ready to be brought out to you or for you to come get it. Luke did that with this game: he ordered the game and paid for it, then had to wait until it was ready for him to pick up. Just because you did not see him buy it, that does not mean it is still for sale.

    "Now," Mom says. "Either put my son''s game down or I will have the authorities here to arrest you. The collector''s edition is two hundred fifty dollars, which is a felony theft in this state. Unlike you, we have a receipt to prove it and the box that''s on the counter there does have my son''s name on it. If we call the police and they review the cameras, will they see that you grabbed the game that came from that box, which has an order number that matches the one on my son''s receipt?"

    Mom''s gaze when she''s annoyed is very intimidating and the woman sets down the game.

    "Good," Mom says. "Now. Judging by the state of Luke''s shirt, he got angry and his magic acted up. I want you to apologize to my son for what it is you said that made him snap."

    "No wonder he''s a spoiled brat-" the woman begins to say.

    "You''re right," Mom pulls out her phone and makes a call, pressing it to her ear. "I do spoil him a little, but he still works hard. Luke earns money, too. Hello, Tim, how''s it going?"

    "Making a phone call?"

    "A little agitated," Mom says. "There''s a woman in one of your shops that is harassing my son and attempted to force the staff to sell them his copy of New Frontiers of Zenzialtz, including calling him a brat and then accusing me of spoiling him when I told her to give the copy back. Yes, it is. Yes, please, and thank you."

    Mom hangs up and returns her phone to her pocket, then smiles at the customer.

    "An example of me spoiling him," she smiles sweetly. "Is that I happen to be connected enough to know the owner of this store and that phone call they''re receiving? That''s him calling to say you''re banned."

    The woman blows up on my mom, which is kind of funny to see because Mom isn''t fazed by it at all. That was probably an abuse of her connections, but the owner already doesn''t like this kind of behavior and he''d definitely prefer a regular customer like me to keep coming more than he''d prefer to not punish a customer that took my stuff.

    When the employee tells her that she''s been banned from the store and needs to leave, she tries to argue with him. Mom offers to call the police if they need to issue a trespass notice against the customer and that shuts her up pretty fast. She grabs her son''s arm and hurries out of the store.

    "Sorry about that," Mom gives a more friendly smile to Phil and Greg. "I came here because I knew that with how anticipated this game has been, there might be a scene if Luke came to get it. I didn''t realize that was what he was doing when he left to go shopping earlier or I would have let him know I was getting it."

    "We have had way too many scenes today," Greg groans. "They sent us one hundred copies of the game and we were out by noon. Twenty copies of the collector''s edition and we were out by eleven. Twenty copies of the deluxe collector''s edition and we were out by eleven. We never sell out that fast, especially not on the more expensive sets. Almost every time someone who pre-ordered came in to pick it up, there was a customer like that one here. We actually did ban a couple already, including one who attacked the other parent. He left wearing a pair of shiny silver bracelets. This game was a lot more popular than anticipated, I think."

    "Of course it was," I say. "You''ve seen the mascot plushies, right? That''s part of why I bought the deluxe collector''s edition kit."

    Greg pulls the plushie out of the box, a wolf with silver-and-gold fur that''s patterned to look like lightning is running along it. It''s a monster from the game that originally wasn''t intended as the mascot. It was spotted in one of the early trailers, though, and blew up online practically overnight. The game studio even said they weren''t going to change the game to include more of it because of that, but they were going to add some merch for it.

    Others like it because it''s a cute animal, but I like it because of both that and the fact that it''s a lightning beast.

    "It''s so awesome!" I exclaim as I take the plushie and swing it around. "I don''t care that it''s one of the lesser monsters you have to fight as you explore the new world, it''s so cool! And then it''s a sequel to a game that also hit it big, too! So of course it got super popular! Oh! Are my keychains there?"

    "They''re in the other box," Greg says. "Let me go get that one real quick."

    The deluxe collector''s set has enough merchandise to fill up two boxes. After Greg gets that one and we finish making sure everything is here, we confirm the pickup and Mom helps me carry the stuff out to her car.

    "Are you feeling better now?" Mom asks.

    "A little," I hug the plushie. "I bought a second one, by the way. Dad added that order on for me."

    "I noticed," she chuckles. "Greg brought it out with the second box. You like it so much you wanted two?"

    "No," I answer. "But Xander''s only got that bear and this thing is super cute, so I thought he might like it as a friend for his bear!"

    "That was pretty nice," she messes with my hair.

    "Mom!" I protest as I pull away and start fixing my hair. "Don''t mess with my hair!"

    Especially not in public! I don''t want other people seeing my hair all messed up!

    "Are you still shopping?" Mom asks. "Or do you want to come home and play the game?"

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "I''m done shopping," I tell her. "But I was going to ask Xavier if he could take me somewhere to eat. If you want to go eat with me, then I can tell him he can go home now."

    "Why don''t you do that?" Mom messes with my hair again.

    "Mom!" I protest and hurry over to where Xavier is parked. "Xavier! Mom showed up because she wanted to avoid me getting angry if someone called me some really mean stuff, so we''re going to go eat at a restaurant. You can head to the house and drop my stuff off now, then take the rest of the day off. I''ll be going home with Mom after."

    "Alright," Xavier says. "Have fun, Luke!"

    "Bye!" I wave to him, then hurry back over to Mom''s car.

    "Did you do clothes shopping?" Mom asks when I climb in and buckle up. "I don''t have a spare shirt for you."

    Since my shirt got obliterated, the torso of my leotard is exposed. It''s not really a shirt but it works well enough, especially since I do have on proper shorts and some sneakers. People who don''t know me will probably just think I''m a gymnast out of practice or something, especially thanks to my lean but defined build.

    "No," I say. "But the yellow of the leotard goes with the blue of the shorts, so it''s fine! At least, for the place I want to go to eat!"

    "Alright," she says. "Your hair is sparking, by the way."

    I try to fix my hair while shutting off the sparks and tell Mom where I want to eat while she pulls out of the parking spot.

    "The angry burst doesn''t normally completely destroy your shirt," Mom says. "It''s getting worse as you get stronger."

    "I know," I sigh. "I''m trying really hard to keep my magic under control, but I can''t. I don''t know why it acts up like that when I get too hyper or angry or happy. Are you sure there''s nothing wrong with me?"

    "Yes," Mom says. "You''re a perfectly healthy thirteen-year-old boy, Luke. You just don''t fully understand your magic yet. That''s why it responds to your emotions. Don''t be so down about losing control of your temper. You got angry but you didn''t attack or anything, your magic simply reacted. It''s okay to get angry and express it."

    "But when I get really mad," I say. "My magic bursts like that. That''s not good. It scares people. What if it hurts someone?"

    I have to avoid getting mad so that it doesn''t happen. The bursts really could hurt someone if they touched. Most stuff doesn''t make me really mad, but I hate when people think I''m spoiled just because I look like I have money. Or because I do have money. I try not to get mad over it, but¡­ I can''t help it. They have no idea how hard I work and how much effort I put into my studies and just dismiss the very idea of me working hard just because I''m a kid with money!

    "Don''t worry about that," Mom tells me. "You''ll figure things out. If you really want, we can go to the doctor again and see if we can get you an alert band?"

    A bracelet that warns people that my magic sometimes acts up. When scanned, it''ll state all known triggers and what happens, which can be used if someone tried to accuse me of intentionally doing something. I''m pretty good about not getting angry though and I don''t want to be marked like that. Other kids would dislike me even more.

    Those are also normally for people whose magic acts up often. Much more often than once every several months.

    "No," I say. "It doesn''t happen often. I just¡­ I really lost control of my temper. I''m sorry."

    "It''s okay," Mom tells me. "And don''t try to stress over not fully understanding your magic. Unless you''re a Lumaria King, it''s normal to not until you''re at least twenty or so. Even a genius probably wouldn''t until he was sixteen or seventeen."

    Even though magic is simply magic, everyone has little quirks to their flow of mana that affects how they use their magic. Bloodlines are one such quirk, making certain types of magic easier than others. Some other quirks affect how one''s mana reacts to their emotional states, how it is that they can actually shape their magic, and more. There are thousands of different spellcasting styles as a result of this.

    Just because two people can cast a fireball that acts identical to the other''s, that doesn''t mean they were cast the same way. The individual quirks of their mana flow means they probably cast them in different styles. That''s one of the reasons why finding a suitable teacher can be hard.

    Even when looking spells up online, the most common ones that can be found are ones that are easier to cast regardless of quirks. Some types of magics are less-affected by a person''s quirks than others, which makes them easier to cast. However, it''s always better to find a teacher who really knows what they''re doing as a person''s quirks might make those spells more difficult to cast.

    Xander is an example of someone who probably has a quirk to his magic that makes internal spells easy. He''s running a self-enhancement spell at all times without realizing it and can subconsciously cast some sort of spell in his throat without realizing it. Subconsciously casting a spell is more likely with spells someone has a quirk which makes that spell type easier for them.

    For me, one of my quirks links my electricity to strong emotions. The more I understand about my quirks ¨C and therefore, my magic ¨C the easier it will be for me to find ways to regulate the link. Prevent my hair from sparking when I get hyper or my body from charging up with lightning magic when I get really angry.

    However, understanding one''s magic isn''t something which comes quickly or intuitively. One has to do a lot of inner-searching of their magic, meditation, and use their magic to figure out all of its quirks. I do try to figure out my magic''s quirks so I can control it better¡­ but I''m only a genius at lightning magic.

    "I know," I sigh. "I just wish I didn''t get so angry."

    "Sweetie," Mom reaches over and brushes my cheek. "It''s okay to get angry. You didn''t attack or anything, you just sparked a bit. You barely even blew up verbally based on what I heard. And it''s normal to have emotions. Especially at your age. Stop beating yourself up. On our way back home, I''m going to buy you a gallon of ice cream and whatever toppings you want and give you no restrictions on it."

    "Really?" I ask. "I can eat a whole gallon of ice cream when I get home?"

    "Yes," Mom smiles. "And now we''re here, so let''s go get dinner."

    Mom and I get out of the car and head into the restaurant. It''s really a cheap diner but I love the burgers they make here. As we look for a table, I spot Parker sitting across from two other guys. Friends from his old school.

    "Hi!" I wave to them as we pass.

    "Hey," Parker holds up a fist for a bump and I oblige. "What''re you doing here?"

    "Just picked up my deluxe collector''s edition kit," I tell him. "And now we''re getting food! Hi, Parker''s friends! Have you guys played New Frontiers of Zenzialtz yet? I have it downloaded but haven''t played it yet! Wanted to wait until I was done with doing stuff for the day first!"

    "Yeah, we-" Parker starts to respond.

    "We were trying to have a conversation here," one of his friends tells me. "And we don''t want you babbling your way through it and keep us from talking. Thanks, but enjoy your dinner."

    Parker looks uncomfortable now and looks between me and his friends.

    "S-sorry," Parker says while staring down at his food.

    "It''s okay¡­"

    I turn and walk away and Mom follows me to the empty table I pick out, as far away from Parker''s group as possible. All I tried doing was being friendly and they were rude to me. Parker didn''t even say anything. He wouldn''t even meet my gaze. Does he¡­ really not like me? Am I just a pity case to him? Is he really only my friend because I don''t have anyone else?

    Why am I such an awful person? My magic makes me burst when I get angry and spark when I''m happy, no one wants to be my friend, and no matter how hard I try to work on myself, it just doesn''t work!

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    Camping laundry can wait until tomorrow because I am too tired to do chores right now. Fortunately, Mr. Thompson bought Connor and me food on our way home. No sleepover for me tonight so I''m here alone, freshly-showered and in a pair of clean shorts because damn did I smell after getting back from camping.

    There''s only one thing for me to do now¡­ and that''s play video games. I plop into my computer chair, turn on the computer, load up the game, and log in. Jack''s the only one online at the moment so I ping him for a party chat. If he''s free to do stuff, we might run a dungeon together.

    "Hey!" I say when he accepts the invite. "What''s up?"

    "Grinding out bears," he answers. "Need bearskins for a quest I''m doing at the moment. How''d the camping trip go?"

    "Pretty cool!" I answer. "We met another classmate there and hung out with her for a lot of it while her parents hung out with our dad. They had a lake and we did a lot of swimming, but we also went hiking in woods."

    "See anything interesting?" He asks as I call up my quests list.

    "We were going for a hike yesterday," I tell him as I scan the quests. "And came across a rabbit that had water magic. It was pretty neat and kept using it in front of us. Mr. Thompson said that the rabbit uses the water magic show to convince people to keep it alive, but also as a sort of mating thing with other rabbits."

    We talk about my camping trip for a bit as I handle some of my incomplete quests, then Jack and I run a dungeon together with his bear familiar acting as a tank, me using my magic to be the dealer, and him using his magic to keep us alive. It''s not an easy fight for us since it''s supposed to be run by five people but we manage to clear the dungeon without any deaths.

    "Shellbeary is tougher now," I say. "Was that what you needed the skins for?"

    "Yeah," Jack answers. "Was upgrading his defenses so he could be more of a tank now instead of a dealer. He''s better at that. Your staff is almost obsolete for your level, right?"

    "Yup," I answer. "Need to get a new one soon. One of the things I can use as a base for the new staff is found from a dungeon boss, so I want to wait on that until we''re all playing together. It''s from that abyssal dungeon we were talking about last week."

    "Ain''t no way am I going in there for a serious run without a proper party," he laughs. "We could definitely try to take it on with just the two of us, though, just to see how far we get."

    "Let''s do it!"

    Jack and I attempt the abyssal dungeon just for kicks and we have a blast doing it even if we don''t even reach the first boss. We don''t play the game for serious advancement, we play it for fun. If we were more serious players we''d be even stronger than we currently are with the same playtime.

    "Hold on a sec," I say after we respawn in town. "I got a text while we were in there. I might be getting a call in a sec so gonna mute."

    "''Kay," Jack responds.

    <u>[Xander]:</u> Can I col u?

    <u>[Sig]:</u> Sure!

    The call comes in almost immediately after I send the sure, so he must have still been on his phone.

    "Hey, Xander!" I respond. "Didn''t think you''d be calling me at all. Did you decide about Tuesday?"

    "Not yet," Xander answers. "Um¡­ I''m really stupid and-"

    "What?" I ask. "What are you talking about? You seem pretty smart to me."

    "I''m not!" Xander cries a little. "I do really badly in school and struggle to retrain information but I''m taking summer lessons to help me get the stuff I need so I can try and be ready for eighth grade. Private tutors and stuff. It started this last week. A neighbor kid was coming over so I wouldn''t be alone with the teachers. And I hate being stupid and not smart and failing school so I really want these lessons. B-but one of the kids who was coming over suddenly decided to fly out to some islands for a vacation and the other kid was just coming ''cause he was. ''Cause the other one was. S-so now it''d be just me and the teacher and the guard a-and I don''t want that but I want the lessons so I asked M-Mr. Trey if I could ask you ''cause you''ve always seemed really nice and friendly and he said y-yeah if that was okay."

    Xander stops there but I can still hear him sniffling. I didn''t mean to upset him, I didn''t know he does badly in school. Since he''s getting lessons now, I''m guessing his foster dad is arranging those to help him. It sounds like he really wants them, too, but is scared to be alone with adults for it, which I understand.

    "My parents are on vacation right now," I tell him. "They went to the Grand Canyon and so I can''t get them to take me over. But I could probably ask Mr. Thompson if he''ll take me over."

    "T-that''s Donner''s dad, right?"

    I almost giggle at his mistake. He''s got reindeer stuck in his brain. Fortunately, I manage to not. Xander would probably get really upset if I laughed with how he sounds right now.

    "Yeah," I answer. "Mr. Thompson''s a pretty cool dude and gives me rides places all the time."

    "U-um¡­ please hold on¡­" Xander says. His voice becomes quieter and a little bit muted, as if he''s away from the mic. "Maybe I can take a week off? I failed the review tests on Friday anyway so I could do practice this week, right? But I don''t want them to know I''m stupid because then they won''t want me to bowl. I don''t think S.G. would tell."

    He seems to be having a conversation with someone else, though I can''t hear the other person. This goes on for a minute and I realize that he probably thinks he put me on hold but actually deafened it. Or he thinks the phone is far enough away that it can''t pic up the call.

    "Okay, Trenton," Xander says. "I should ask him not to. He might get mad, though," there''s a shuffling sound for a moment. "S-S.G.? Are you still there?"

    "I am," I say. "What''s up?"

    "Um¡­ can you not tell them that I''m stupid?" He asks. "You guys being that close in bowling keeps others from that lane and I don''t want them wanting to not be around me because of that because I''m stupid I know that''s wrong but the lanes are private and thoughts are muddled and I-I didn''t want to tell you, either, but I want the lessons and I don''t want to be alone with the teachers and-"

    Xander babbles for a moment and most of it is incoherent but I think I know why. He even said it, though probably without realizing: his thoughts are muddled right now. He''s panicking, isn''t he?

    "What kind of classes are they?" I interrupt after a minute.

    "Um¡­" Xander''s brain probably needs a slight reboot after getting confused on me. "Um. Mondays are math followed by swimming. I learned order of operations last week. Oh. Um. If you help with the swimming, you''ll need swim trunks or something. O-or you can sit by the pool. But I d-definitely d-don''t w-want t-to b-be al-lone w-with t-the t-teacher t-there."

    "I''ve got swim trunks," I tell him. "If you want, I can just say you''re getting swimming lessons and don''t want to be alone with the adults for that, but are a bit shy and don''t want too many people around and so asked me if I''d come and help. That''s all true, right? You cool with me saying that?"

    Xander mumbles what sounds like, "Then they''d know I can''t swim, but I guess that''s okay."

    "S-sure," Xander says.

    "Alright!" I say. "Let me text Mr. Thompson and ask if he''ll take me over. What time does it start?"

    "The class for math starts at eight," Xander tells me. "And then the swimming lesson ends at ten-to-eleven. Roughly. Then there''s lunch after. We get a break between the two classes, but also a short one during the first class. It''s weird."

    I''m not sure I want to ask what''s weird, mostly because Xander still sounds upset. He must be trying to be brave right now by admitting to me that he needs help with education and doesn''t do well at school.

    Based on what I''ve heard him say during this call, Xander really prefers it if we''re the ones bowling close because it keeps others from being assigned a close lane. He''s also worried that us finding out he''s not smart and severely needs academic help would make us want to be far, far away from him instead of just taking back the offer to bowl with him on Tuesday.

    "Alright," I send a text to Mr. Thompson. "I''ve sent him a text. Did you have a good weekend?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers.

    That''s all?

    "I saw the pictures you were sending of you baking and helping with cooking," I say. "Do you like doing that kind of stuff?"

    "I think," Xander answers. "I get worried I''m gonna drop stuff but Ms. Katie is nice and cleans it up when I do and then just tells me to measure it out again."

    "Oh!" I say. "So she''s teaching you how to bake? Is that the woman I saw in some of the pictures?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "She''s Mr. Trey''s cook. Um. Please hold on," his voice gets quieter. "Hi, Mr. Trey. He''s asking Mr. Thompson if he can take him over right now, since his parents are on vacation," I can hear another voice this time, but I can''t understand what they''re saying as they''re too far away and aren''t talking too loud. It sounds kind of deep. "I-isn''t breakfast too early, though? It''s at seven and he has to come further than Luke does. Oh. Um. Please hold on. S.G.? Are you still there?"

    His voice is louder again, indicating that he''s probably put the phone back to his ear.

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "Mr. Trey said I can invite you over for breakfast as well if you want," he says. "We normally eat at seven but he said we can bump it back a little bit later if that works better. But the classes start at eight. It''s like real school. But, um¡­ if real school had longer class periods and breaks and let you eat during class. I guess since you can eat breakfast at school, too."

    "Let me ask," I tell him. "Mr. Thompson just responded¡­ and sent! Is Mr. Trey Mr. Caldwell?"

    "Yeah."

    "Cool," I say. "He wants to know where you live."

    "O-oh," Xander says. "Um¡­ Mr. Trey?" His voice is quieter again. "What''s your address? Okay. S.G.?" His voice is louder again. "Mr. Trey lives at 3 Bluewing Falls Avenue, in Dragon Falls. Oh. Bluewing Avenue, not Bluewing Falls Avenue. Stupid brain, mixing things up."

    I''ll pretend I didn''t hear him muttering the insult toward himself. It really seems like he doesn''t have much self-esteem, though. Mr. Thompson told us last week that Tiffany told him that Xander''s doing well in the new home and she thinks it''s going to help him out a lot. I hope so, too.

    "Okay," I say. "Letting Mr. Thompson know and¡­ sent! Is. Mr. Caldwell still there?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Okay," I say. "So have you decided about Tuesday yet?"

    "N-no," Xander answers. "B-but I''ll understand if you change your mind after helping me with classes. I know I''m not that smart."

    "If being smart was a requirement to be my friend," I say. "Then that''d be a very stupid thing to do! You seem like a cool person, Xander, so unless you do something to upset us, we''ll still invite you."

    "S-sure."

    That''s probably a sarcastic one but I can''t tell. The slight whimper I hear probably means it was and Xander''s scared. He''s a bit of an anxious guy.

    "Mr. Thompson said sure!" I say. "It might not be right at seven since it''s so early but he doesn''t mind picking me up. Conner will still be asleep at that time. He did say that he won''t be able to take me home, though, since he has to be at work."

    "Um¡­" Xander''s voice goes quieter. "S.G. said that Mr. Thompson can take him here but will be at work when we''re done. Can Quinn take him home after?"

    "Sure," Mr. Caldwell responds, close enough to Xander now for me to hear him.

    "Okay," Xander says, then his voice is louder again. "S.G.? Mr. Trey said that my driver can take you home after."

    "Alright!" I say. "I''ll see you tomorrow then yeah?"

    "B-bye," Xander says and the call ends.

    As I pull my headset on and unmute the mic, I realize something Xander said. His driver? Does that mean he got adopted by a wealthy person? That''s so cool!

    "Sorry about that," I tell Jack. "Got asked to help with something tomorrow! Since it doesn''t look like the others are getting on, want to go farm some berries and make a bunch of splash potions so we can prank them?"

 Chapter 019

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Thanks for picking me up," I say as I get into Mr. Thompson''s car.

    Since Conner''s not here, I get into the front seat rather than the back and I tuck my backpack onto the floor. Xander mentioned swimming so I have swim trunks, a towel, and sunscreen in there.

    Hopefully my outfit is fine for the classes, since he kind of implied he''s in a wealthy family now. I put on khaki shorts and a pastel green polo because they''re the best clothes I have for anything not too casual, though I''m still in sneakers. This makes me a little bit anxious because I don''t know much about Xander or his new home beyond just what I''ve learned at bowling. I didn''t even know his new family has enough money to afford a driver¡­ and I''m pretty sure he mentioned that Ms. Katie was Mr. Caldwell''s chef.

    "You look anxious," Mr. Thompson says as I buckle up.

    "There''s a lot of things that could go wrong here," I tell him as he pulls out of the driveway. "I want to be Xander''s friend but I''m thinking there''s a big difference between us that might make that bad. Plus, he''s got a lot of confidence issues. I didn''t tell you in the texts, but he kept calling himself stupid."

    "He did that when we were talking, too," Mr. Thompson says. "Why do you think that''ll make it bad to be friends with him?"

    "I don''t know," I tell him. "I''m still sleepy and my brain doesn''t want to organize its thoughts properly. It was something he said last week and last night. I don''t remember them clearly, but I think he''s worried that we won''t like him if we know. That''s why¡­ uh¡­ well, I think it was a big leap for him to admit he''s scared and wants someone around when he''s learning how to swim. I''m happy it''s me, though. I don''t know why but I am."

    It makes me feel all fluffy inside to know that Xander came to me to ask for this rather than someone from the orphanage. Though I did almost tell Mr. Thompson that Xander''s not just taking swimming lessons but classes to catch up on stuff he''s behind on. I''m still waking up for sure.

    "Good luck," Mr. Thompson tells me. "I know you boys have been wanting to talk to him for awhile now and invite him to play with you. Now that you have, here''s hoping that a friendship works out for you guys. He seems a nice kid."

    "He does," I nod, then giggle. "Though he keeps mixing up Connor''s name and calls him Donner instead."

    "That explains the reindeer thing," Mr. Thompson mutters.

    I giggle again, then think about Xander more on the way to his house. We never talked to him because it seemed like he was there just to practice bowling and didn''t want to be disturbed. The way he reacted when people got too close to him made us think he just didn''t want to talk to people.

    Now that we know it''s because he was scared, I wish we''d talked to him sooner. It makes me feel bad for not at least trying to chat with him. Maybe he''d be happier by now if so and maybe we''d have one more friend to hang out and goof around with.

    "Uh¡­ Mr. Thompson?" I realize something. "Why are we in the rich people part of town? The really rich people part of town?"

    "Because this is where Xander said he lives," Mr. Thompson says. "That street up there is Bluewing Avenue."

    "Seriously?" I ask. "Aren''t these where the millionaires live? Holy cow! Xander really got lucky with foster parents!"

    "Make sure to behave," Mr. Thompson tells me. "And don''t boast about it, okay? That can make someone uncomfortable."

    "I won''t," I tell him. "These houses are so huge¡­ Xander probably gets lost in his new home. I know I would."

    Mr. Thompson chuckles. He pulls onto Xander''s street and up to his house. It looks like he lives at the back of the neighborhood, though calling it a neighborhood is a bit wrong because this place is huge. Each property is massive and could fit dozens of houses in the yards alone. Some of the pictures Xander sent me makes it seem like his yard his huge, but the pictures were always careful to not show everything.

    I bet he''s also uncomfortable letting me know he''s rich now, too.

    There''s a guardhouse with a gate at the wall that surrounds the property and we''re stopped for a minute as the guard checks to make sure we''re allowed in. He''s actually a little bit hostile at first, but only until he''s given the O-K to let us in.

    At the door, another security guard lets us into the house and guides us toward the dining room, where Mr. Caldwell is sitting in his pajamas. Two other spots at the table are already set up, both at the sides on the opposite end of the table from Mr. Caldwell. This place is really huge and the floors are super polished and clean and I''m willing to bet that the cushions on the dining room chairs are more comfortable than even the couch at Conner''s house.

    "Good morning," Mr. Caldwell stands and walks over, shaking Mr. Thompson''s hand. "Nice to see you again."

    "Hello, Trey," Mr. Thompson says as I examine the silverware at one of the seats¡­ from a distance. It looks really fancy. "Are you sure getting him home won''t be a problem?"

    "Yes," Mr. Caldwell answers. "I''m leaving for work after breakfast but Quinn, Xander''s driver, can take S.G. home after lunch. You can sit if you want, S.G., though Xander will be a few more minutes before he comes down. He prefers to arrive right at seven for breakfast."

    "Okay," I reach for the chair.

    "Other side, if you don''t mind," he says. "Xander prefers that seat."

    "Oh! Okay!" I go to walk around the table and realize that there''s a woman working in the kitchen. "Hi! You must be Ms. Katie!"

    "I am," she smiles at me. "Good morning, S.G."

    "Breakfast smells delicious!" I tell her. "Whatever it is! Smells cinnamony!"

    "Cinnamon rolls," she says. "Xander asked for them for breakfast."

    "Really?" I ask. "I asked him about them Saturday ''cause we had dutch oven cinnamon rolls for breakfast and he said he didn''t like them when I asked him."

    "He doesn''t," she confirms. "I think he just wanted you to get to try my recipe. We started them last night and they''re almost done baking."

    The oven beeps as she says that, so she pulls that out and I take a seat. Mr. Thompson and Mr. Caldwell are finishing whatever it is they were talking about, so they say goodbye to each other and Mr. Thompson reminds me to behave, then leaves.

    "Is it okay for me to hang my backpack on the chair?" I ask. "Or should I put it somewhere else? Didn''t think about that until now."

    I hung it on the back of the chair when I sat down, but maybe Mr. Caldwell doesn''t like that sort of thing?

    "You can leave it there," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "Swimming shorts?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Xander said that was on the schedule for today."

    "It was," Mr. Caldwell tells me. "How did your camping trip go? Xander said you were sending him a lot of pictures."

    "Yeah!" I nod.

    We talk about my camping trip for a few minutes, then Xander shows up and takes a seat. He''s dressed in green pajamas and black socks and looks really shy at the moment. Ms. Katie serves us all breakfast, which isn''t just cinnamon rolls with icing and something to drink.

    We''re given a large cinnamon roll each with a lot of icing on top, and I''m given a choice of sides and what I want to drink. Xander gets to make his choices first and I find out through his requests that there''s not much limit to what we can get and that we can get more. Mostly because Mr. Caldwell reminds him to ask for more after he eats if he''s still hungry, then tells me to go ahead and do the same.

    I go with bacon and eggs, but am also served some fruit salad that has blueberries and sliced kiwis, bananas, mango, and strawberries. The fruit salad has some sort of liquid in it, a sort of sweet syrup to go with it. It''s not a lot of syrup but really just a thin layer of it, but it tastes good.

    Xander goes with sausage links and hash brown patties for his side, though those are served with the same fruit salad that I am and a small dish of syrup that he uses to dip his sausages in.

    At first, I ask for just orange juice but Xander gets both that and milk so I ask if I can get milk and am offered a choice of flavors for it. Xander makes a weird face when I ask about chocolate milk.

    The cinnamon rolls are amazingly delicious and better than any I''ve ever had before. Xander seems to enjoy the rest of his food more than it, but he does ask for seconds and even thirds. I can only eat a second cinnamon roll and serving of eggs.

    I really want to ask him what sort of magic he uses but think he''ll not be comfortable telling me that. Xander''s got to be a mage, though, with how much food he can put away.

    "W-want to see the bedroom?" Xander asks after we finish breakfast.

    "Sure!" I answer.

    Xander leads me up to his bedroom, which is huge and has the biggest bed I''ve ever seen in it! The carpeting in here is extremely plush and I take off my shoes when entering just in case. His bed is made and there are two stuffed animals on it. One is the brown stuffed bear I''ve seen in a few of the pictures he''s sent me, while the other is a silver-and-gold wolf.

    "You play video games?" I ask. "I''m not really interested in that one but I heard it''s fun from a friend!"

    "Huh?" Xander asks.

    "The plushie!" I point at it. "That comes with the deluxe collector''s edition kit of the game. Or did you buy it separately?"

    "Luke brought it over last night when he came to let me know he was going to an island," Xander says. "He says he thought I''d like it. I do, even if it''s from Luke."

    That last part was muttered and I don''t think he meant to voice it. Or even knows he voiced it.

    "The bear is Trenton," Xander tells me. "I''ve had him since I was a baby."

    Trenton? He was talking to the bear last night? I guess if that''s how he tries to figure things out, then that''s cool. It just surprises me, that''s all.

    "Cool," I say. "Does the wolf has a name?"

    "He hasn''t told me yet," Xander says as he goes to his closet. "I''m going to get changed. Um¡­ in the closet, though. Please hold on."

    Xander enters his closet and closes the door and I explore his room a little after. Not snooping around kind of exploring, just walking around to see if there''s anything interesting I can spot. I want to check out the other three doors in here but that would be rude so I wait for Xander to come out.

    Without me asking, Xander shows me what''s behind the other three doors once he finishes changing. His room for bathing and showering is awesome! I want that kind of bathroom but it''s not like my parents would set one up if I asked. They certainly have the money, they just wouldn''t do it because it''d be a waste. It isn''t until he shows me the room with the toilet that I realize has has two bathrooms¡­ but only one of them is an actual bathroom even though they''re both called that. It seems to confuse Xander, too.

    "And you get your own office?" I ask when Xander shows it to me.

    "I get to use it for doing assignments and stuff," Xander tells me. "The chair is very comfortable. Do you want to sit in it? You won''t get into trouble."

    "Sure!" I sit in the chair. "Whoa! This really is comfortable! What kind of games do you play?"

    "Go Fish," he answers. "And Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell taught me how to play Poker and Rummy on Friday while Mr. Trey was at an event."

    "You didn''t get to go with him?"

    "He asked but I said I didn''t want to go because it would be crowded."

    "Oh," I say. "Oh! I left my backpack downstairs. It''s got my stuff for swimming in it. Where should I stick it?"

    Xander takes me back downstairs so I can grab my backpack and I spot the pool through the patio doors. I was still waking up when I arrived and then I guess I didn''t look outside.

    "Whoa," I say. "That''s a huge pool."

    "It''s not the one for the swim lessons," Xander tells me. "That one''s inside. It''s this way."

    Xander leads me to the indoor pool as I marvel at just how lucky he got with this placement. Not only does he have a giant bedroom with a giant bed and his own closet and awesome shower and bath setup and office, but he even gets two pools, including an indoor one! When we arrive there, I find the indoor pool to be pretty large as well.

    "The changing room is over here," Xander tells me. "You can borrow a locker to put your stuff in. The room is enchanted so sound doesn''t echo loudly. Ba."

    The ''ba'' was probably meant to showcase the effect of the enchantment, but I don''t think Xander was loud enough for it to have really done much. Then again, indoor pools are usually echo-y even for normal talking so I guess the point is proven. Every time I''ve been to an indoor pool before, it was super noisy because of the echo.

    This probably makes Xander more comfortable, which is nice. I''m curious if it was already like this before Mr. Caldwell started thinking about adopting or if he changed it after hearing about Xander not liking noisy things or loud noises.

    As we walk toward the changing rooms, I notice that Xander''s sticking pretty close to the wall. The swim lessons aren''t just to teach him how to swim, are they? Is he trying to overcome a fear of drowning as well?

    "Here," Xander shows me the changing room, which is full of lockers and benches. "That opening there leads to the showers to wash off before and after we go in the pool. Um¡­ this is the locker with my stuff in it. Luke and Parker used these two last week so they''ll probably use them again, though I think they took their things. You can use any of the ones I''m not using, though."

    I pick the one on the other side of Xander''s from the other boys'' lockers as the names Xander''s mentioned clicks in my head.

    "Wait," I say. "Parker? Is it Parker Milton?"

    "Um¡­ I don''t know if I was told his last name," Xander looks uncertain.

    "He''s got brown hair and blue eyes and earth magics he inherited from one of his parents," I say. "They''re chefs and caterers. He goes to one of the rich-kid schools now but used to go to DFMS with Conner and me. Awesome kid and still hangs out with his old friends. I''m not one of them but I do know them. I''ve heard he has a close friend named Luke."

    "Oh," Xander says. "Maybe. It could be him."

    "He''s a cool kid," I say. "Sometimes plays basketball with my friends and me at the park."

    "I see you play there sometimes," Xander says. "Um. But I don''t remember seeing Parker. Could just be my memory," he wiggles a little, clearly uncomfortable. "Um¡­ want to see more of the house? Mr. Trey said I should offer you a tour and there''s still a lot of time before class starts."

    "Sure!"

    Xander shows me around the house, which is even bigger than I realized. Not only that, but he has a huge in-home theater, too! Twelve seats, plus his own concessions stand. All of the cups in here are hard-style plastic cups with a frosty, cratered surface, like the sort they use at my favorite pizza place for in-restaurant dining.

    Now that I think about it, clear ones of these were at Xander''s seat at the table but I was given glass cups. I wonder what that was about.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    "All of these directions," I say as I examine a laminated page posted by one of the machines. "Is that so you can do this on your own instead of asking for help?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "Since it''s not just putting it in the microwave and hitting a button. I made popcorn the other day. It wants a little bit of oil, then the kernels, then you pop it. Once it''s done, you pick your topping and add that on. Or you can eat it plain. I ate mine plain."

    "What kind of stuff do you watch?" I ask. "Or can you play games on it? I bet they''d be awesome on a screen that huge!"

    "I haven''t played games in here," Xander tells me. "I watched a do-cu-men-ta-ry about wolves on Saturday and then one about sharks yesterday. Mr. Trey watched the shark do-cu-men-ta-ry with me yesterday. He sat there and I sat there, and he fixed up the food for us. But I did put caramel sauce on my popcorn because I was curious if that would taste good and Mr. Trey said I could when I asked. It did taste good. I only did that once just in case. Then I ate more plain popcorn."

    "Caramel popcorn is awesome!" I tell him. "Wish the theaters served it. Conner, Sam, Isaac, and I sometimes go there to watch a movie that''s showing but they just do butter and extra butter popcorn with that fake, artificial butter flavoring."

    "If I want butter flavoring," Xander opens up a cabinet to reveal a minifrdge inside of it. "There''s butter in there, and I can melt it using this microwave," he opens up another another cabinet. "And then pour it on. And look, there are directions on the inside of the door for how much butter to use based on how much popcorn made and how buttery. Also that it should be added while the popcorn is still hot. The butter in the small fridge is sectioned out already so I don''t have to worry about cutting it. The pieces are between pieces of wax paper so that I can just peel a piece off and use it, already portioned. That''s good for avoiding waste, and the wax paper is a special one that can be recycled with normal paper. Not like normal wax paper. Mr. Trey thinks of the environment for a lot of things."

    "That''s pretty neat," I say. "Oh, by the way, Ms. Katie implied that you helped make the cinnamon rolls?"

    "I helped measure," he nods. "Also mix, knead, flatting, fill, roll, cut, and place. Um. And anything else I forgot. The stuff that you do when preparing them but before putting them into the oven. We did that last night and put them in the fridge. Ms. Katie finished them this morning. Did you like them? I don''t, but Ms. Katie''s recipe tastes better than the ones I''m used to."

    "Yeah," I nod. "They were pretty good. Best cinnamon rolls I''ve ever had in my life. And I''m not just saying that ''cause they''re probably rich-people rolls. They really are good. I love cinnamon rolls and even learned how to make them myself but those ones are really good. Do you think she''d give me the recipe?"

    For the first time, I see something other than anxiety, discomfort, concentration, or fear on Xander''s face. The expression is very slight but it transforms his whole aura. Happiness. Ms. Johnson wasn''t lying when she told us that Xander is very obviously happy when he is. He''s even standing a little bit straighter now and looks less tense. I think his head is even held up a little bit more.

    "I don''t know," Xander tells me. "But you could probably ask. Um. It''s been half an hour since we ate so I need to brush my teeth. Let me show you to the classroom. Do you want to get your stuff from your bag first? You stuck it in the locker."

    "Did I need to bring something?" I ask.

    "You didn''t bring snacks?" Xander looks confused.

    "Was I supposed to?"

    "No," Xander says. "But I thought you would since I said you could. You didn''t need to, though, it was just an option."

    "Uh¡­" I try to think back to our conversation. "You told me we could eat during it, but not that I could bring snacks. I thought you were referring to lunch."

    "Oh," Xander''s face reddens and he looks down. "Sorry. I do have snacks but-"

    "Hey," I say. "You don''t need to give me snacks or anything."

    "I mean," Xander says. "I was going to bring some already. We were baking yesterday to make some for it, but Mr. Trey also took me to the store so we could buy more healthy snacks, too. I just¡­ never mind. It''s stupid. Anyway, the classroom is this way."

    Xander leads me to a classroom¡­ which is sort of set up like an actual classroom, except with beanbag chairs and desks. Then he disappears to go brush his teeth and I take a look around the room.

    There''s the teacher''s desk, the beanbag chairs, an alphabet strip on the wall, a banner with the order of operations, a poster with a map of the original colonies, and a poster with information on the types of rocks. On one of the dry-erase boards, there''s a rough drawing of a wolf in blue marker. A couple of tall cabinets are set up in here as well, probably for storing stuff for the lessons.

    To have a classroom in your own home¡­ whoa.

    As I look at the posters, a man enters the room, followed by a security guard, followed by Xander with a backpack.

    "The snacks are in here," Xander whispers to me as he lifts up the backpack. "But we can''t have them until after the break."

    "Okay," I whisper back, then look at the guard, who''s taken up position in the corner. "Is he here to watch me?"

    "No," Xander whispers. "His name is Roderick. He''s here to shoot Mr. Massey if he tries to do something inappropriate. I can ask him to show you his guns if you want."

    I guess if that''s what it takes to help Xander feel more comfortable, then that''s what it takes. Kind of a weird situation but after figuring out what might have happened to Xander, I guess it makes sense. His foster dad is really awesome for setting that up for him.

    "No, thanks," I whisper.

    Xander sits down so I do the same, picking a blue beanbag chair. He''s on a green one, which I kind of figured since he likes that color. The class doesn''t start right away as it''s apparently starting at eight, not whenever we''re all here.

    "Here''s your actual test," Mr. Massey hands Xander a packet along with a board for writing on and a pencil and eraser. "I saw that you put the packet in the tray, so I''ll go through it while you''re doing this. Remember, Xander, to just do it the best you can and don''t worry if you can''t solve a problem. It''s just so I know if you remember everything or if we need to go back over something, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "S.G.," Mr. Massey looks at me. "You don''t need to do the test, but you can if you want to. It''s order of operations."

    "Sure," I say.

    Mr. Massey gets me the stuff so I can take the test, then I give it a try. Xander mumbles under his breath as he works so I tune it out to focus on mine. All of the problems are fairly basic order of operations problems, with no overly massive numbers. Is Xander really that far behind? Whoever failed to give him the help he needed before now should get fired.

    After we finish, Mr. Massey quickly checks the answers for the tests.

    "Good job," he tells Xander. "You did better that the practice test on Friday. Let''s try something a little bit more complicated today: mean, median, and mode."

    "I don''t want to do mean stuff," Xander says.

    "Not that kind of mean," Mr. Massey tells him. "In math, think of ''mean'' as another word for ''average''. It''s the average of a set of data. Let''s take a look at this set of data here."

    Mr. Massey rights up some numbers on the board: 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9. Once those are written on the board, he starts walking us how to figure out the mean, the median, and the mode. At the same time, he also teaches what they are.

    Unlike when my teacher taught the class how to do it, Mr. Massey doesn''t teach what they are, then shows it. He discusses each one as he teaches it, and he does so in a simple way. So he explains about how the mean is the average from a data set and to get it, we have to add up the numbers and divide by how many they are, then has Xander try it. I do as well just to make sure I get things right, and once he''s sure that Xander has the mean down for now, he moves on to median.

    I think that''s a better way to do it, rather than teaching all three at once and then applying them. Mr. Massey also breaks things down into easier-to-understand terms. If he were a teacher at my school, I''m sure more of my class would have done better. Just how hard did did Mr. Caldwell search to find a teacher like him?

    "Take five to stretch your legs," Mr. Massey tells us after we both do a few practice problems on a worksheet he printed up for us. "Then we''ll move on."

    Xander gets up and¡­ actually stretches his legs. I think Mr. Massey just meant to give us a break so we can stand and ''stretch our legs'' by doing something like walking around. Since Xander''s actually doing some stretches, though, I follow suit and do a few stretches as well, then show off by stretching my hands past my toes.

    "Whoa," Xander says. "I''ve only seen one other person do that before. I thought it was just that there was something weird with him. Normal people can do that?"

    "I mean," I say. "I wouldn''t call myself normal, but yeah! If you''re flexible enough. Takes a lot of work, though."

    "That was impressive," Xander tells me as he sits back on his beanbag, then he gives Mr. Massey a nervous look before whispering to me. "How much of this did you understand?"

    "Most," I tell him. "We were taught it in the sixth grade at my school, so I already knew it."

    "Oh," Xander says. "I think we were, too, but I didn''t understand it. I only sort of understand it now."

    "That''s an improvement, right?" I ask and he nods. "Cool."

    Xander opens up his backpack and starts pulling things out of it. A plastic container with chips, another with baby carrots, another with ranch dressing, another with oatmeal raisin cookies, another with sugar cookies that have smiley faces drawn on them in icing, another with grapes, another with what is probably fruit dip, and two bottles of milk in refrigeration sleeves. I think the containers for the ranch, icing, grapes, and baby carrots are refrigeration containers, too.

    "We can have food now," Xander tells me. "As long as we don''t make a mess."

    "Okay," I say as he starts opening things up and putting them on the ground between us. "Thanks."

    Xander nods, then hands me one of the milks and opens his. Mr. Massey comes over with a piece of laminated paper.

    "Here''s a help card for mean, median, and mode," Mr. Massey tells him as Xander accepts it. "You can use it in class here if you need to, okay?"

    "Okay," Xander says, then Mr. Massey returns to his desk.

    The next lesson is on variables and how to deal with them, and Xander seems to struggle a little. He''s hesitant to ask for help, but Mr. Massey calmly answers his questions when he does. The teacher makes sure that everything is explained clearly for Xander and even does a review again after giving us a quick test on variables. The review covers both topics he taught today, then Xander is given a packet.

    "This is just something for you to practice what you learned," Mr. Massey says. "It''s not for a grade and you don''t need to turn it in tomorrow. Work on it throughout the week and turn it back in next Monday, okay?"

    "Okay," Xander says. "Thank you."

    "You''re welcome," Mr. Massey says. "See you tomorrow."

    "Bye," Xander says.

    Mr. Massey leaves and Xander watches until he''s gone, then he looks at me.

    "I''m going to put these in the office I''m using," he shows me the packet and help cards Mr. Massey gave him. "You can come with me if you want. We have ten minutes until the swim lesson starts."

    "Sure!" I say, then help him close the containers, though he puts them all into his backpack.

    We go up to his room and he puts the help cards and packet at his desk, then he leads me back downstairs to put the containers in the kitchen. The backpack is hung up on a hook inside of the pantry door, then Xander leads me to the indoor pool and changing room so we can get ready for the class.

    "Are you okay?" I ask when I notice him trembling.

    "I-I think I''ll be fine."

    "Are you¡­ scared of drowning?"

    "A lot."

    "So are you not getting in the pool, then, but just working on trying to get in?"

    "I-I''m sorry!"

    "For what?" I ask.

    "For being such a big baby," Xander sniffles, tears welling up in his eyes.

    "Whoa," I say. "Who said you''re a baby? Everyone''s got fears. Like me! I''m a bit of a daredevil in some ways but I''m terrified of heights! When I was little, I was on a camping trip with my parents and fell off a cliff and ever since then, I''ve been pretty scared of heights. If I try going up high, I get all dizzy and everything starts spinning around and I freak out real bad. Sometimes, I even hyperventilate and pass out."

    "Hyperbentimate?"

    "Hyperventilate," I say. "It''s deep or rapid breathing caused by things like anxiety or panic. Well, I think that''s how it''s explained."

    "Oh," Xander thinks for a moment. "I do that a lot."

    I don''t know how to respond to that so we finish getting ready for the swim lesson and once we''re both showered and in swim trunks, we enter the pool area again and Xander tells me to go ahead and get in while he tries.

    While I wait for him, I jump into the deep end and swim around a bit and meet Coach Evan. Xander''s standing at the shallow end, but against the wall rather than close to the pool. It seems like he''s really nervous about getting closer to the water, so I try to just splash around a bit and have fun in the hopes it helps him see it''s not so bad.

    Coach Evan and I chat every few minutes, while he spends the rest of the time talking with Xander from about ten feet away. His tone is calm and soothing the entire time, probably to try and help Xander relax some.

    "-but yeah, Isaac is definitely a better swimmer than me," I tell Coach Evan as we talk for the fourth or fifth time. "And he really likes to-"

    A sudden screaming sound fills the air from the deep end of the pool and we both look over to see Xander hurrying (but not running) toward it with his hands over his eyes. Then he kind of just¡­ falls into the water because he didn''t jump.

    I immediately start swimming over as Coach Evan jumps into the pool to swim over, and we both reach Xander as he resurfaces, flailing around and gasping for air. Coach Evan and I both try to call out to Xander but I don''t think he''s noticing. Even with the enchantment that prevents a pool''s normal echo, Xander''s screams are extremely loud, almost deafening.

    Why won''t the coach try to stop his failing? How is Xander still floating, too?

    It takes a few minutes, but Xander eventually stops flailing about and treads water, though he looks exhausted.

    "You good?" I ask once he''s been treading water for a few seconds.

    "No," Xander answers. "But I''m in the water."

    He gives Coach Evan a nervous look and the coach backs up a little bit.

    "Do you want to try doing laps first or floating?" Coach asks.

    "Um¡­ floating," Xander answers.

    I float with Xander and we bump into each other a few times because we''re just drifting on the water rather than guiding it. Once Xander''s calmed down a little bit more, the coach has him do some laps so I swim them as well. Xander''s not as strong of a swimmer as I am so I don''t try racing him or anything, I just swim alongside him.

    The fact that he''s new to swimming is pretty obvious and Coach Evan helps correct Xander''s mistakes after the laps. All of the class goes along those lines, with Xander doing whatever swimming exercise Coach Evan teaches or asks and then the coach letting him know what to improve and how. He even says a few things to me, too. Then, we''re to try again while doing our best to use his advice to improve.

    "Thanks for coming," Xander says once we''ve showered up and are getting dressed after the swimming lesson. "And. Um. Sorry for screaming in your face like that."

    "I was scared for you," I tell him. "You looked so panicked and I didn''t know what to do. You didn''t have to force yourself into the pool, you know."

    "Y-yeah," Xander''s face reddens. "But I got in last week with Luke''s help and I wanted to try to get in by myself today. Since I wore out my panic last week, I thought I could do the same today. I¡­ I understand if you want to go home and not hang around me after seeing how pathetic I am."

    What should I do? Or say? I get that he''s got problems he''s dealing with and it doesn''t make me not want to be around him. It''s not like they negatively affect me or any of the stuff I want to do with him.

    Oh! I know!

    "Hey," I say. "After lunch, can I show you something really neat? It''s a magic trick I know! Not one of those fake stage tricks but actual magic. It does require a beach ball that''s not blown up yet."

    "Um¡­ I think Mr. Trey has some of those," Xander says. "I can ask if it''s okay but he might want to know what the trick is. He''s at work so he might not answer. You do want to stay for lunch?"

    "Yeah!" I answer. "If you want to hang out a bit more without the classes!"

    "S-sure," Xander says. "Um. This way."

    I make sure to grab my backpack before following Xander to the dining room, then he takes me out to the back porch. Ms. Katie is grilling burgers right now.

    "We''ve got about six more minutes before they''re ready," she says. "Almost time for the fries to go in. S.G., any particular way you like your burgers?"

    "Cheese, barbecue sauce, onions, pickles, tomatoes, and lettuce!" I answer. "Though I eat them in a variety of ways so it''s cool if it''s something else."

    "I can do those," she says.

    "Mr. Trey said you can do the trick," Xander tells me. "Ms. Katie, may I please have Swiss cheese, onions, pickles, lettuce, and onion on my burger?"

    "Sure thing, Xander," she says. "Why don''t you two have fun while I finish cooking these? I''ve put lemonade on the table there for you if you''re thirsty."

    Xander gets himself a cup of lemonade and asks if I want some. There was a plastic cup and a glass cup on the table, and he''s used the plastic cup. Does he not like glass? I want to ask but feel it would be rude to do so.

    "I can do the trick in less than a minute depending on the size of the ball," I tell Xander as I get myself a glass of lemonade. "Want to see it while we wait for lunch?"

    "Okay," Xander sets his cup down. "Let me get a ball real quick."

    Xander goes to a shed to grab something from it, then returns with a deflated beach volleyball and hands it to me.

    "Watch this," I unplug the air cap, then press my thumb over the hole. "Three¡­ two¡­ one!"

    The ball begins to inflate as I use the same trick I did at the lake on Friday. Xander watches the ball with wide eyes for a few moments, then he turns his gaze to me with a look of concentration. He makes a ''huh'' sound, then returns to watching me inflate the ball.

    "Ta-da!" I cap the valve and hold out the ball. "One blown-up ball in less than a minute!"

    "You can do magic?" Xander asks.

    "Air magic," I confirm. "I get a lesson once every two weeks, usually. Have to save up money for it and don''t always have enough. It really depends on if I can get enough work mowing lawns and stuff."

    "That was a cool trick," Xander tells me. "What did you learn it for?"

    "That wasn''t one I ''learned''," I grin at him. "It was something I figured out on my own just for fun!"

    "Oh," Xander thinks for a few moments. "Can you suck the air back out of the ball?"

    "I''ve never tried that before!" I realize. "Let me try!"

    I unplug the ball, then focus on trying to shift the air out of the ball. Sadly, I''m not precise enough for that¡­ so I squeeze the ball to let out the air.

    "Ta-da!" I show him the deflated ball. "No magic for that one but one ball, deflated!"

    Xander seems a bit confused by that and puts the ball away, then goes back to the deck to sit and wait for lunch to finish. There''s a deck of cards on the table and he asks if I want to play Go Fish so we play that until Ms. Katie serves lunch.

    "Thanks for coming over," Xander tells me after we''re done eating lunch and are entering the house again. "Um¡­ Luke probably won''t be back tomorrow, either. If he''s not, would you be okay with coming over for the classes? It''s spelling and martial arts with Mr. Massey and Coach Evan. Mr. Trey said that Quinn can pick you up if you need a ride."

    "Sure!" I answer. "I had fun hanging out with you, Xander! And now I know we can bring snacks, I''ll bring some so it''s not just you!"

    "Okay," Xander hurries into the kitchen and grabs something off the counter before bringing it over to me. "Here. It''s cinnamon raisin bread. Ms. Katie and I made it yesterday."

    I open up the food container and find an entire loaf of cinnamon raisin bread in here.

    "It was made specifically for you," Ms. Katie tells me as she brings in our lunch dishes. "So he''s not just accidentally offering a whole loaf."

    "Oh," I say. "Cool! Thanks, Xander!"

    "You''re welcome," he says as a man approaches us. "This is Quinn. Bye, S.G."

    "Bye, Xander!" I tell him. "See you tomorrow, if not here, then at the bowling alley, right?"

    "If we''re both there," Xander nods. "Bye. Have a good day."

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    I feel like I was supposed to do something else when S.G. left but I can''t remember what so after he leaves, I look at Ms. Katie. If it was too important, she probably would have reminded me.

    "Do you think I''ll get into trouble for taking a nap?" I ask her. "W-would Mr. Caldwell be upset with me? The classes made me extra tired today for some reason."

    It doesn''t feel like I''ll be able to stay awake for much longer even if I tried, so taking a nap is unavoidable. I''m mostly asking so that I know how much trouble I''ll get into for taking one.

    "You can take a nap if you want," she tells me. "Though I''m surprised you didn''t go with S.G. to take him home."

    "W-was I supposed to?" Is that what I was forgetting?

    "No," she says. "It just seemed like you were having a lot of fun with him so I thought you were going to want to help take him home to delay saying goodbye as long as possible and hang out with him a little bit more."

    "Oh," I say. "It''s too late now. Quinn is probably pulling out by now. Um. Do you think Mr. Caldwell will be mad at me?"

    "No," she answers. "Go take a nap, Xander. Do you want me to wake you up at a certain time or after a certain amount?"

    That way, I don''t sleep too long. I was going to set an alarm on the phone but if Ms. Katie is offering, then it''s probably better to accept her offer. She probably knows something I don''t.

    "S-sure," I say. "F-forty-five minutes. I-is t-that o-okay?"

    "Sure," she answers. "Enjoy your nap, Xander, and I hope you dream about delicious cheesecake."

 Chapter 020

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    I jump up into the air and with an exclaimed "ha", spike the volleyball with a lightning-charged hand. Sparks decorate the light-and-dark blue ball as it speeds toward the other side of the net, slamming into the sand between the two opponents.

    "Whoo!" I exclaim and charge to my teammate to chest-bump him, then turn to face them. "We win!"

    After I arrived on this island yesterday morning, the four of us met each other for the first time and found that we shared similar interests when it came to fun things to do during summer break. As a result, we''ve been hanging out a lot and having a lot of fun doing various things. We''ve been playing volleyball for the last hour and my side finally scored our last point.

    "That was cheating!" Emma, the only girl between the four of us protests. "You used magic!"

    All us are around thirteen or fourteen years old and in just our swimwear. Emma''s is a green that matches her eyes, and she''s got her brown hair tied up in a ponytail for the game to help keep it out of her eyes. Though a pure mage, she''s lean and fit from doing activities like this for fun.

    "When was ''no magic'' established as a rule?" I grin at her. "I never heard that. Did you, Colby?"

    Colby, my teammate, is the youngest of us by a single month and has jet-black hair and bold blue eyes. He''s only lightly toned and not too athletic, but he participated as much as he could to help us out. Sand is stuck to his brown-and-white swim trunks from his many crashes into the ground. His face is red from being out of breath and he''s breathing a little bit hard as he tries to catch it.

    "Never," he grins at me, then looks at Emma and Tyler. "When did we agree on that as a rule?"

    "But we never said magic could be used!" Emma protests, her happy grin showing that she''s doing so in good fun.

    "How¡­ are you¡­ so fast?" Tyler pants, even more out of breath than Colby is despite having an even more toned build than I do.

    Between the four of us, he''s the only actual athlete and that''s even with being a mage. His purple-and-black shorts look nice, his face is currently bright red through his tan, and his floppy brown hair is stuck to his face. He looks up at me with a grin, blue eyes full of energy.

    "I was enhancing myself to try and get some of your hits but damn, those were hard!" Tyler says, having caught his breath a little.

    "See?" I grin at Emma. "Even your own teammate was using magic!"

    "I''ll show you magic!" She exclaims as she summons an orb of water to throw at me.

    It holds together as it passes through the net but bursts when I thrust a hand forward and fill it with sparks. Cast water like that is too pure for electricity and lightning to pass through ordinarily, but rules can be ignored when it comes to magic. I used the ''force'' part of my lightning magic to break her sphere rather than the ''lightning'' part of it.

    This sends the four of us into a game of throwing spells at each other and wrestling around in the sand. It takes a few minutes for the four of us to calm down and rest on the beach as we try to catch our breaths.

    "Anyone else here want ice cream?" I ask after catching my breath.

    We all do so we get up and leave the beach, Tyler grabbing his volleyball as we go. Our slides and shirts are in bags we left at a picnic table in a grassy area close to where we were hanging out, and we grab those and continue toward the wooden walkway past that. None of us pull our shirts or footwear back on before pulling on our bags, though we do make sure to return our wallets and phones and stuff to our pockets. Sparks dance on my body as we walk to knock off the sand, then the others ask if I''ll do that for them as well so I do.

    The nearest stand for ice cream is about two minutes away by foot and we walk the whole way there, chatting about the differences in our schools. We''re from four different parts of the country and our school experiences are vastly different.

    "Vanilla cone with strawberries, fudge, nuts, and caramel," I order when it''s my turn.

    I pay and the worker makes the cone, then I step to the side so that Colby can place his order. We''re ordering based on the volleyball game, so we get to go first. Once we all have our cones, we start walking along the road again as we talk.

    "-but if you apply Nabdioak''s theory of intertwined magic," I say. "You can find that it''s possible for a magic to actually be charged with an aspect instead of just having it."

    "Yeah," Tyler says. "But Nabdioak''s theory hasn''t been proven, so you can''t just assume it would work."

    "Oh, yeah, I know that," I say. "But think about it ¨C if we find that his theory is right, then that would drastically change how magitech works. We can apply the theory of intertwined magic to the law of magical amplification and bolster an effect two, four, eight, even sixteen times! You do magic martial arts, right? Imagine being able to enhance your strength so you can move two times faster than you do now! Though that would, of course, come with the problem of needing to enhance your mind to keep up. But if you solved that, then your monster hunting future would be even better than it is now!"

    Tyler comes from a family of monster hunters who specialize in internal magic and close-range external magic. It''s not often a lucrative job but Tyler''s family is skilled enough with it that they can take on some pretty strong monsters. Guns are useful but there are monsters where guns are actually wasted when it comes to fighting. Especially against any stronger magical beast.

    Whoever it is that pacified the griffins around where I live was very likely an extremely skilled mage, not someone who used guns to scare them into good behavior.

    "That would definitely be beneficial," Tyler says. "I''ve actually tried that before. Making my magic have enhancement in it rather than just be attuned to it. Hey! Do you think that''s why the Lumaria Kings are so powerful? Everyone''s always wondered where they get their strength from and they''re always so mysterious about it."

    "Nah," I say. "They''ve had their absurd magical abilities for so long that if it was from combining Nabdioak''s theory and the law of magical amplification, others would have confirmed it''s possible by now. So that''s definitely not the reason behind their power. I do think that it''s possible for magic to be infused with an element rather than just be attuned to it, though. It would definitely explain why the stronger monsters of the world can perform seemingly impossible feats with their magics."

    "Oooh, that''s a good point," Tyler says. "I''ve never seen a dragon, personally, but I''ve heard that their size alone should crush them. They''d need to have some sort of enhancement and gravity magic active at all times. Not just that, but they''d need to use an immense amount of it as well, far more than would make sense for the level of magic that''s been read as active in them. And their flight magics?"

    "Yeah," I say. "Their flight magic has remained a mystery to everyone because in the rare occasions someone''s actually managed to get a reading on it, the amount of mana active is far, far, far too low. It doesn''t matter what type of flight magic it is, either. Even the cheapest of them would cost way more than a dragon spends to move something that large. But if a dragon''s magic is infused with whatever aspect they use for it¡­ then they might be able to get away with doing less for more. The problem that we''re running into is that even the best of mage sight can''t see magic that deeply. I''ve heard that even Adrian King can only see magical affinities within magic. So either this hypothetical scenario isn''t possible or it is but requires a level of mage sight that even the oldest and most powerful mage in the world doesn''t have."

    Which would be impressive. I have some degree of mage sight as well thanks to having a strong bloodline, but I can''t see how magic is attuned. Plenty of people can train themselves to see magic as well and it''s not unheard of for people who suffered because of magic to train themselves into being able to see it so that they can better avoid it. Advancing past a certain point in one''s training of magic also requires being able to use at least a basic level of mage sight.

    "Adrian King is the head of the Lumaria Group, right?" Colby asks as I take a big bite of my ice cream.

    Tyler and I have been talking so much that we still have plenty of our ice cream left while Colby and Emma are almost done with theirs.

    "Yeah," Emma answers. "I think all of his descendants are born with mage sight that can see the affinities a magic is attuned to. Like, from birth. It probably explains how they''re able to learn magic so fast."

    "Right," I say. "My family actually sort-of knows one of them personally. He keeps teleporting into one of our labs and dropping down some cash before taking a power core. Nobody really wants to know what he''s doing with the power cores¡­ especially since he''s only ten. About half the time, he drops off an empty power core or two, too, so we know he''s actually going through them. Mom said she''s contacted the family about it and got a message back from Adrian himself. Apparently, if the kid doesn''t pay, we''re to just bill the Lumaria Group for it and they''ll deal with him not paying. He does pay every time, though."

    "Speaking of the power cores," Tyler says. "If the theory can be proven and then applied to that magical law, it would benefit your family as well. If you can infuse the lightning mana in those cores with lightning magic, it would probably massively increase how effective they are. The question then would be how cost efficient it is. Would the payoff be good enough to make up for how much it costs to do that, or would it result in a loss?"

    "Yeah," I lick up some of the ice cream that was melting onto my hand. "That''s going to have to be something we look into. If it works, though, and is cost-efficient, then we could use it for sure. Even if it''s not, imagine if we could do that to a person''s mana! Infuse mine with lightning magic and bam! My spells would easily get far stronger and I could hold out for even longer when doing stuff! That lightning elemental wouldn''t have pushed me into a draw, either¡­"

    Amplifying my mana by infusing it with lightning magic would probably make my babbling and tendency to be hyper even more of a problem, but there are still plenty of things I could do with it so I think the trade would be fine.

    "Wait!" Emma stops walking and I turn to find her staring at me with wide eyes. "The rumors of you fighting a lightning elemental are true?"

    "Mostly," I say. "I didn''t kill it like the rumors claim. It was more of a draw between us¡­ and it was a weaker lightning elemental."

    "Do you have any idea how insane that is?" Emma asks. "You fought a lightning elemental! And survived! Not only survived, but got into a draw with it! Even for the Lumaria Kings, that''s not really something that can be done! I''m pretty sure only a few of them can manage it! You''ve gotta tell us about the fight!"

    "Yeah!" Colby exclaims. "How did that happen?"

    "And how did you get into a draw with it?" Tyler asks.

    I tell them about my fight with the elemental as we finish our ice cream and make our way to a nearby performance being put on by some of the islanders, a show about the island''s history and how the original settlers of it had to battle hellhounds to survive.

    "Can you imagine fighting hellhounds?" Tyler asks after the show ends and we start making our way to a nearby restaurant. "I heard they tone down what a hellhound really is and that they''re more terrifying than you''ll find in any documentary."

    "I can''t," Emma shakes her head. "It''s a good thing we''ve got high-tier hunters to take care of them on the rare occasions when they show up."

    "I did find a documentary that has a more detailed and accurate depiction of them," Colby says. "Apparently, their bodies are made out of lava and darkness, which makes it really hard to hurt. You have to be good at water magics to kill them."

    "Or just really strong," I say. "I can blast one to bits unless it''s a royal hellhound. Those would probably take me a few more hits."

    All three of them turn their gazes to me.

    "What?" I ask.

    "You say that as if you''ve actually fought a hellhound."

    "Last summer," I nod. "I was helping out with some rescue efforts after an earthquake and a giant dog made out of lava and darkness attacked me. I shot it with lightning in a panic and found out later it was a hellhound when people were asking around about if anyone knew who killed it."

    "I need more information," Tyler says. "Come on! What was it like? How big was it? Was it really burning with green flames?"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "But if you have to cook it first, then how does it not get soggy or dried out when you bake it?" I ask. "That doesn''t make sense to me."

    Mr. Trey and I are currently on our way to the bowling alley for bowling tonight and he started asking me my thoughts about tonight''s dinner. Lasagna was the main dish, along with garlic bread and salad for sides and I had strawberry lemonade to drink while Mr. Trey had tea.

    While I don''t know why he likes to ask me what I thought about meals as it doesn''t seem to be so that they can avoid the foods I like and force me to eat ones I find disgusting, I do my best to give my thoughts. That way, I don''t get into trouble for lying or omitting information.

    "I''m not sure," Mr. Trey tells me. "I know how to cook, but I don''t know the finer details of things. Did you ask Ms. Katie?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "She said she doesn''t know, either. That makes lasagna weird to me, though. I did like it, though. Ms. Katie''s lasagna is better than the lasagna that they buy at the store to make at the boys'' home."

    "Did you have fun helping her make it?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "I did," I answer. "I was scared to cook the meat but Ms. Katie promised she''d help me so I could learn how to do it right. And I got to help layer the lasagna. But I liked making dessert more."

    We haven''t eaten dessert yet; it''s currently on my lap and gripped tightly to avoid dropping it when Mr. Trey makes a turn. He asked me to call the bowling alley to see if we could bring it in and Lena said that while they ordinarily don''t allow outside food or drink, they do make exceptions sometimes and would ask her boss. After putting me on hold for a few minutes, she came back and gave me an answer. Because of how good and loyal of a customer I''ve been and how I always buy food when I come, she said they can make an exception for me this time.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Dessert is triple-berry pie with homemade ice cream. I didn''t touch the ice cream machine but Ms. Katie taught me how to make the mix for it, which was really fun to do, and I helped make the pie as well. Or the pies, since we made several of them.

    I have two of the pies we made on top of a one-gallon tub of ice cream, which is what''s on my lap. There''s a freezer sleeve around the ice cream container to keep it frozen, and I can''t feel the cold at all through it which I think is really neat. The pies are in glass pie dishes, each within a little box container that preserves their state. On top of those is a quart-sized container of vanilla ice cream with a freezer sleeve around it. On the seat beside me sits a bag of toppings with plates, forks, two ice cream scoops, and two pie knives inside.

    The boxes for the pies are really expensive and Mr. Trey is letting me use them to bring dessert to the bowling alley. Because it''s putting the food in a stasis so that it keeps its heat but doesn''t continue cooking it, the magics used to make it are really difficult to perform and require rare resources. I didn''t want to risk damaging or losing them but he said it was fine.

    "Ms. Katie let me sneak-eat some of the filling for the pies," I tell Mr. Caldwell. "While we were filling them. It wasn''t me sneaking since I asked, but she called it sneaking so I think it was supposed to be sneaky?"

    "That''s just the way it''s referred to when you take a small bit of it while making it," Mr. Trey tells me. "It''s not really sneaking, it''s just a way of referring to it. Did you like the filling?"

    "A little," I nod. "Ms. Katie said that flavor will be different once it''s baked, though. So I wasn''t doing something bad?"

    "No," Mr. Trey answers. "When making something like that, there''s usually enough that you can ''sneak'' a taste of the filling without it affecting the final product. Katie would have told you if you were eating too much or if sneaking a bite would mess with the finished product."

    "Okay."

    We stop talking as Mr. Trey just pulled into the bowling alley lot and I don''t want to distract him as he parks. It would be really bad if I try keeping the conversation going and he gets into an accident trying to park. I don''t really know how to continue the conversation, either. Mr. Trey led most of it.

    Once he''s parked, we get out of the car and I make sure to grab the bag that has the bowling shoes I use in it and pull that on before picking up the desserts and the bag with the rest of its stuff inside. Mr. Trey is trusting me to carry this all in and I do my best to bring them in very carefully and pay attention to where I put my feet as best I can to avoid tripping.

    "Hello, Xander!" Lena greets me when we reach the counter. "Whoa! That''s a lot of dessert stuff! I thought maybe you were bringing a cake or something when you asked."

    "Not a cake," I tell her as Mr. Trey opens up the top box. "Pie and ice cream. But I didn''t think it would be right to bring it for us and not you and Chris and maybe other employees you share it with, since it''s not normal to do this. And you two are really nice to me. So we made an extra pie and some extra ice cream."

    Mr. Trey sets the pie he pulled out on the counter, then grabs the quart of ice cream and pulls it from the sleeve so that he can set it beside those.

    "Xander also wanted to thank you guys for being nice to him," Mr. Trey says and I nod so she knows I did. "Are you guys able to accept this? Xander didn''t think about it, but I know that a lot of places don''t allow gifts."

    "Yeah," she answers. "We can take it. Thank you, Xander!"

    "Thank you for being so nice to me," I tell her. "Can we please rent a lane for two hours? We don''t need to rent shoes. Oh, um¡­ my membership card is in my wallet so I can''t show it."

    I managed to clearly and loudly ask rather than the quieter one I usually do. Mr. Trey asked me to give it a try tonight instead of him asking, though I think I might have asked too loudly. I hope I didn''t, so I don''t get into trouble.

    "That''s fine," she smiles. "We know you''re a member and I know it doesn''t expire until right before Christmas."

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ if the boys who usually go on Lane 18 want to be on Lane 19, can they? I want to share the pie and ice cream and stuff with them but it''d be strange if they were two lanes over."

    "Sure," she says. "I''ll let them know."

    "Thank you," I say.

    Mr. Trey finishes dealing with getting the lane rented, then we go over to the concessions area so we can play our food orders. It takes a few minutes for us to get to the counter since there are a few other customers in front of us and one of them takes a long time to make his decisions.

    "Hey, Xander," Chris greets. "Lena said you called and asked about dessert and I see ice cream and something else. I take it you''ll be skipping on dessert from us tonight?"

    "No," I answer. "There''s a different dessert I want to try here since I have ice cream. Um," I look at Mr. Trey. "Mr. Trey can order first."

    "Could I please get the nachos and cheese combo?" Mr. Trey asks. "With jalapenos on it, along with an order of onion rings, a ten-piece of honey barbecue wings, and unsweetened ice tea. For dessert, I would like the normal sundae for dessert."

    Mr. Trey is letting me share the entire pie and ice cream with the S.G. and his friends.

    "We can do that," Chris says. "And what about you, my man?"

    My man? I don''t understand that but it was definitely directed at me.

    "Um¡­" I look up at the menu.

    I''m still allowed to order as much as I think I''ll eat and even with the dessert that I know I''ll be eating, I''m feeling extra hungry today. The same thing happened yesterday, after I woke up from my nap. I took another after S.G. left today and woke feeling starved. Even after I ate dinner, I still feel really hungry.

    "May I please have two burger combos with no mustard," I look at Chris and try to maintain eye contact. Mr. Trey says that eye contact is important even when I''m scared. "Two combos of the nachos and cheese, two pretzels with cheese combos, two orders of onion rings, two orders of mozzarella sticks, a ten-piece of honey barbecue wings," we had wings for dinner yesterday and I found that I like honey barbecue so I want to try theirs, though I''ve apparently had them with Mr. Trey before and didn''t remember. "And funnel cake, the one with the strawberry topping, please. Oh, and lemonade for all of the drinks, please."

    "Sure thing," Chris says. "Want some of it now or for us to deliver it over time?"

    Mr. Trey handles the rest of this, then we go to Lane 20 and Mr. Trey puts the dessert stuff we brought onto the table. We change into our bowling shoes and set up the lane, then start playing. The first batch of the food we ordered arrives while we''re playing our second frame, so I start eating more.

    "Hi, Xander!" S.G. greets me as he and the two friends who are here this week arrive. "Lena said you wanted to know if we''d go to Lane 19?"

    It''s Mr. Trey''s turn to bowl, which is probably why he greeted me then instead of waiting until he was all the way over here. I''m in the middle of taking a bite of a burger, though, so I wait until after I finish chewing and swallowing to respond. Responding while having food in my mouth would be extremely rude and I don''t want to get into trouble or give them more reasons to not want to be around me.

    "Yeah," I nod. "We brought pie and ice cream to share with you guys and it would be weird to do that when we don''t have any tables close to each other."

    I declined the offer to bowl with them tonight as they would probably want even more interaction and I''m scared I would get scared by that. But this should be safe. That''s why I asked Mr. Trey if I could buy the stuff to make pie to share. A good pie needs ice cream to go with it so while Ms. Katie was helping me pick out the stuff, I asked her if we could get ice cream as well. That was when she suggested we make it, so we go the stuff to do that, too.

    Today has been a very good day and I''m really happy with it.

    "Oh, cool!" He says. "Conner! Text your dad and say we''ll do it."

    Conner texts his dad and it''s my turn to bowl so I do that. By the time I finish getting a strike, Lane 19 is on and ready for them to use. They go to get their food orders first, though, so it''s a little bit before they''re bowling.

    "Lots of conversation or little conversation?" S.G. asks me as I eat some more of my food.

    "Huh?"

    I have zero clue what that means.

    "Are you up for lots of chatting or not much?" He asks. "We want to know so that we don''t accidentally overwhelm you."

    "Oh," that''s really nice of them. "Um. Maybe little."

    "Okay!" He says. "We''ll keep that in mind! And let us know if we''re getting too loud for you, okay?"

    "Okay."

    Even without Isaac here, the three of them are still pretty hyper and it starts to bother me. I''m a little scared to say something because it''s nice having other people be friendly with me without worrying about trying to earn my trust and saying they''re bothering me might make them not want to hang out anymore. Then Mr. Trey lets them know that they''re being a bit too rambunctious for me and they calm down after I nod to confirm when S.G. asks.

    "Sorry!" S.G. tells me. "We didn''t eat a lot of sugar before coming but we do tend to get hyper after hanging out together for too long."

    "Um¡­ okay."

    We continue bowling, and the other boys talk to me a lot. They also keep starting to get hyper but then calm themselves down after looking at me. I was starting to think that suggesting neighboring lanes was a bad idea but I like that they''re trying to be considerate. I''m not really used to that sort of thing, but I still feel like it''s wrong and I should have been considerate and not suggested it. This is confusing me and making me uncomfortable.

    At about 9:40, I realize the time and that I still haven''t served the pie. Mr. Trey told me to try to do it rather than ask him to, so I open up the box and carefully pull out the pie, then use the pie knife to cut it.

    "Ooh! Pie!" S.G. exclaims. "It looks like it''s still hot."

    "It is," I nod. "Um¡­ the box is a really fancy stasis box that helps preserve the state of the stuff within. I don''t think it fully halts it or anything but just¡­ slows down change? I think it''s some sort of time-based enchantment but I don''t really understand it. Mr. Trey said he''s had the boxes for years."

    That''s true, and I only added it because I think it will play down the wealth Mr. Trey has. S.G. promised not to tell them about how big of a house I''m staying in now or that Mr. Trey is very very rich so that they don''t get the wrong idea about me. For some reason, people think that having something expensive but new means you''re rich while having something expensive but for awhile means it was probably a splurge.

    I don''t feel comfortable trying to deceive like this because they''ll probably think I''m lying when I''m not. Mr. Trey is the one who suggested I say it like this when I told him I was worried, though, so I don''t think I''ll get into trouble from him. It really isn''t lying.

    "So you brought two pies?" S.G. asks. "For us?"

    "No," I shake my head. "Just one for us. The other one was for the workers ''cause most of them are always super nice to me. I brought a little extra ice cream for them as well. Do you want a slice?"

    "Yes, please!"

    I serve all three of them a slice of the pie and two scoops of the ice cream, then serve myself some as well. They start going through the toppings to fix up their ice cream, and I put sliced strawberries, nuts, slices of a banana, sprinkles, and caramel sauce on mine. We also have chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles (Ms. Katie paid for those rather than me because I refused to buy them), gummy bears, gummy worms, and cookie crumbles. The other boys go with those. Also with whipped cream.

    By the time both my game with Mr. Trey and their game with each other is done, we''ve eaten all of the pie and the ice cream. That''s in barely twenty minutes, and I didn''t know it was possible for four boys who''ve already eaten a lot to go through that much food that fast.

    "Sig said you''re taking lessons in martial arts and swimming?" Conner asks as we''re getting ready to go.

    With only three players tonight, they played faster than they usually do and ended at about the same time that Mr. Trey and I did.

    "Yeah," I tell Conner. "I started last week. I never learned how to swim and I''m really weak so it''s a good way to help build up strength and get healthy."

    He''s probably wondering about coming over to do that stuff with me, too.

    "But, um¡­" I shift a little, not sure how to word this in a way that won''t make them mad at me. Or make them think I''m a freak or something. "S.G. is just helping out while the other boy who does is on vacation. He left for a surprise one on Sunday. And, um¡­"

    I don''t know what to say! Or how to say it!

    "It''s cool," Conner smiles at me. "I asked S.G. about it and he said that you just want another kid there so you aren''t alone with adults and that''s cool. If we were all there, we''d probably goof around too much. Do you like your martial arts lessons? That''s what I wanted to ask about."

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "They''re teaching me how to defend myself if I get attacked."

    "My dad''s made sure I learned some," Conner tells me. "Same reason. You ever want to spar with me, go ahead and ask! Oh! Can I get your number?"

    "Me, too!" Sam asks. "Can I get your number, too?"

    "Um¡­ why?"

    "To text and chat!" Conner asks. "And if you want to hang out, you can just text and ask us, too! We''ll sometimes text each other if we get bored and want to hang out, too, and you seem cool enough for hanging out with!"

    I''m looking in his eyes so I know he''s being honest with that, but I still can''t help but feel suspicious. At the same time, part of me really wants to give them the number for the phone because when they weren''t being hyper, they were pretty nice to talk with. That makes me conflicted inside, but I decide to give them the number and they give me theirs.

    While I let them take pictures of me for their contact information for me, they send me pictures for themselves so I can set those for their contact information in the phone. Mostly because I tried taking pictures of them but the images came out blurry.

    "Bye, Xander!" Sam says.

    "Bye!" Conner waves.

    "See you tomorrow!" S.G. waves.

    "Bye," I tell all of them.

    They leave to meet with their dads and Mr. Trey and I clean up and collect our stuff, then leave the bowling alley.

    "Did you have fun?" Mr. Trey asks as we''re on the way to his house.

    "Y-yes, sir."

    "Good," he says. "You looked like you were enjoying talking with them."

    "They were a lot nicer than I thought," I admit. "Oh. I forgot to say that it''s not all martial arts and swimming but there are other fitness and athletic things as well, so that there''s more variety. That wasn''t lying, was it?"

    "No, Xander, it wasn''t," Mr. Trey says. "It was simply forgetting to add something. Even if you remembered, it wasn''t an important detail so omitting it wouldn''t be lying."

    That''s what I thought, but I wanted to make sure I was right about this and not believing something false this whole time.

    "Okay."

    "Do you think you''d want to hang out with them again in the future?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "If they''ll let me," I say. "But¡­ maybe not for a long time. They scare me a little."

    They did try to not be as hyper once they realized it was scaring me, which surprised me a lot. I usually have to separate myself from the situation so that the others don''t have to change what they''re doing but S.G. and his friends didn''t seem to mind.

    "Know how S.G. texts you about what he''s doing or whatever randomly pops into his head?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Also pictures of stuff he''s doing," I say. "Or, um¡­ um¡­"

    "Memes?"

    "Yeah, those."

    "You can do that with them," Mr. Trey says. "If you''re worried about annoying them, try starting off with maybe once or twice a day, but remember how often they send you texts about stuff and consider that if they were annoyed with you doing it at least that often, it would be hypocritical of them."

    I feel like I should know that word but my brain is struggling to remember it. While I could just blame it on being extra sleepy, it''s probably because I''m stupid.

    "Mr. Trey?"

    "You want to know what hippos have to do with this, don''t you?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Nothing," he chuckles. "Being a hypocrite, or hypocritical, is when you tell other people that something is wrong or right but you do the opposite. This doesn''t apply for if, say, it was something you said years ago as views can change. So if you used to steal in the past but stopped and reformed and say that it''s wrong, you''re not a hypocrite. If you''re currently preaching that something like stealing is wrong and it shouldn''t be done but you''re also a thief, however, then you''re a hypocrite."

    "Oh, okay."

    "You look like you''re struggling to stay awake."

    "S-sorry!"

    "Don''t be sorry," Mr. Trey says. "It was just an observation. If you fall asleep on the way to the house, I''ll wake you up. Do you want me to keep talking with you so you have an easier time staying awake?"

    He probably doesn''t want to do that but wants me to stay awake so that he doesn''t have to wake me up once we reach his house. I can try to stay awake on my own.

    "I-I think I can do it."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Before you pass out, I wanted to say one last thing to you. I noticed that you were keeping eye contact with Lena, Chris, and the worker who brought over our food as well as me. You looked anxious while doing it and like you wanted to run, so I''m very proud of you for managing that, especially since I only suggested you try and do it with S.G., Conner, and Sam."

    ¡­that was only supposed to be for the other three boys? Stupid me, forgetting that so fast after being told to do that. My apology for messing up never comes out though because I realize that Mr. Trey was complimenting me for managing it.

    A compliment. That makes me feel really good, which is weird because I messed up. Now I''m all confused. I''m too tired to process this; I exerted too much energy today even with the nap I had. It''s strained my brain and now I really need rest so I can think better again.

    "Mr. Trey?"

    "Yes?"

    "If¡­ if I fall asleep," I tell him. "I''m sorry and didn''t mean to. And if I fall asleep, then I apologize in advance for saying weird things when you wake me up when we reach the house so I can go to bed like a good boy."

    "What do you mean by ''weird things''?"

    "I don''t remember," I tell him. "But Nick says that if I get woken up when I''m really tired like this and can''t stay awake and haven''t rested enough ¨C unlike on Friday night, when I''d managed to get some rest ¨C I say weird things and then fall back asleep. I don''t remember doing that, but I don''t remember so good normally. But Nick was being honest so I guess I say weird things. So I''m sorry if I do. I don''t mean to be a bad boy."

    "Go ahead and get some sleep," Mr. Trey tells me. "I''ll wake you when we get to the house, and don''t worry. You did a lot today and interacted with others a lot more than you''re used to, so I''ll understand if you need the rest. If I can''t wake you up, are you okay with me carrying to your room?"

    That suggestion scares me but I don''t think he''ll be okay with me sleeping in the car. The only good answer to this is ''yes'' and that scares me. But I didn''t get in trouble for running in the house on Friday, so maybe this is okay.

    "Okay," I say. "Thank you¡­ and sorry. In advance."

 Chapter 021

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "I''m stupid. I''m ugly. I''m worthless," I tell my reflection. "Um¡­ at least three good things about myself¡­ at least three good things about myself¡­ at least three good things about myself¡­"

    This part is a bigger struggle now that I know the proper task I''m supposed to do each morning. Well, more accurately, I got a laminated piece of paper with it and stuck it beside the mirror. That happened yesterday so this is my first day actually remembering to do it correctly. I tried every day after Mr. Trey corrected me but failed, so I asked if it was okay if I put up a note reminding me of the correct task.

    Coming up with the bad things about myself is easy. There are far more than three of them and I am fully aware of most of them.

    The good things about myself is harder to come up with and I need to do at least three for the task. I don''t want to fail it but it''s a big struggle.

    "Um¡­" I really try hard. "Oh! I can help make food that others like."

    Luke likes the muffins and other treats I helped make, which isn''t as exciting for me. But S.G., Connor, and Sam all liked the pie and ice cream that Ms. Katie and I made. Even though it wasn''t me making it but Ms. Katie with me helping, that means I didn''t screw it up. And I was the one who did all of the measuring and even mixing. It was mostly just following Ms. Katie''s directions when I made the pie and ice cream yesterday.

    So then maybe it was really me making the pie and ice cream¡­ which would mean that I made the pie and ice cream, not just helped with it. Though Ms. Katie was still the one who put the pies in the oven and ice cream mix into the machine and pulled the pies out when they were done.

    A second good thing¡­ um¡­ I really can''t think of something. Everything I can think of is just something I did or didn''t do. This really frustrates me because I need to do the task so I don''t get into trouble.

    I need help. Mr. Trey would probably be mad if I tell him I got help for the task so I won''t. He''ll probably be even madder at me for not telling him stuff even though it''s not lying, but I can use the time until he learns it to try and come up with a reasonable explanation for it.

    Grabbing the phone he''s letting me use, I send a text to the dork.

    Xander: can u thenk uf ane gude thengs abaot me?

    Supreme Sucker Sucker: You''re awesome. You''re amazing. You''re cool. You''re good at magic. You''re good at making magitech. You''re good at enchanting items. You''re a god in mortal flesh. You''re a dragon in human skin. You''re an insanely powerful mage.

    ¡­it''s things like this that make me wonder if he''s not a hallucination because there''s no way a hallucination of mine would say stuff like that about me. I suppose it might if the hallucination is just trying to say good things and it''s not necessarily about me.

    Xander: Whut kind uf sucker did u diskuvir?

    Supreme Sucker Sucker: I made it while waiting for the others to wake. It is quite delicious. It tastes like banana nut muffins and blueberries.

    A picture follows up on that, an image of a darkish yellow sucker with blue spots on it, the handle of it a white paper sucker handle. It''s around half an inch or so in diameter and is being held over bubbles¡­ a lot of bubbles. The dork is taking a bubble bath right now, apparently. If he wasn''t, then he''d have just taken a picture of the suckers he''s not currently eating and his hand wouldn''t be in the picture. When he takes a bubble bath, the entire surface of the bath is covered in such a thick layer of bubbles that even the water can''t be seen below.

    Whether or not he''s actually gotten in the bath yet is another matter. There''s a chance that he''s only just filled it and is holding the sucker over the bath for no reason other than to have a bubbly background for the picture. Or the bath could even still be filling up.

    The dork is really weird.

    Supreme Sucker Sucker: I''ll send some to you, since you aren''t coming to the secret base anymore. Thank you for not telling your dad about it. It must remain a secret so that my experiments may continue. They are vital for the future of mankind.

    Yeah. He''s a dork¡­ and he''s even okay with me calling him that which I find really weird.

    Though the dork didn''t really say anything that I could use for the task, I did come up with two more things while reading his messages and analyzing the picture. The dork hid a message in the bubbles and I''m choosing to ignore it.

    I send him a message to thank him for that, then look at the mirror again.

    "I am kind," I tell my reflection. "Mr. Trey says that about me sometimes and he''s being honest. Um¡­ I think he says ''you have a kind heart''. That''s a good thing about me, even if I disagree. But if Mr. Trey is saying it and he''s being honest, then that means it''s true."

    It''s really wrong for me to say stuff like that about me, but it''s for the task and not to others so it''s a little bit okay. I think.

    "Okay, um¡­ the third one¡­" I try to remember what the third one was. I can''t, but I know I thought about it while looking at the picture that the dork sent so I do that again. "Oh, right!" I look at my reflection. "Um¡­ wait, what was it again? Oh, yeah. I''m good at measuring ingredients. Even if I mess up a little, it doesn''t ruin the food."

    Though it''s better not to tell the dork this. He''ll try to convince me to cook on my own at the workshop so that he can try my cooking and I don''t want to burn the place down.

    Now that this task is done, I make my way downstairs and am relieved to see that S.G. hasn''t arrived yet. Mr. Trey is sitting at the table already, reading something on his phone. He looks up when I enter and jumps a little.

    "S-sorry! I didn''t mean to sneak up on you!"

    "You''re fine," Mr. Trey tells me. "You just surprised me, that''s all. You normally wait to come down so that you arrive at seven."

    "I-I wanted to come before S.G. arrived," I say. "I¡­ did something bad and wanted to tell you."

    We still have plenty of time before S.G. will probably show up. My gut said to come down immediately rather than wait a few more minutes, and that''s probably in case the punishment takes more than a few minutes.

    "What was it?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "I¡­ asked for help with the morning task," I say. "I was struggling to think of three good things about myself and, um¡­ texted someone and asked him for help. He said some weird stuff that doesn''t apply to me. I did manage to come up with stuff on my own, but I''m sorry for asking for help."

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Doing that is just a suggestion, not a requirement. It''s to get you to try and accept the negatives and realize the positives. See what you can work on and use the good to keep you from being down about it. If you can''t actually come up with three good things, then don''t try and force it."

    "O-oh," I feel my face heat up. I really am stupid, aren''t I? "Sorry."

    "Who was it you asked?" Mr. Trey asks. "I''m sure Luke, Parker, S.G., Connor, and Sam would have said some nice things."

    "Um¡­ it was someone else," I tell him. "We aren''t friends, though."

    "The dork?"

    "H-how¡­ oh, right," we talked about the dork the other day, though I didn''t tell him much other than that he''s just another kid I know and he lets me hang out at his workshop sometimes. The dork knows I did that, so I think he was thanking me for not telling Mr. Trey where the workshop is. "Y-yeah. It was the dork. Um¡­ here," I pull out the phone he''s letting me use. "He told me¡­ huh?"

    "What is it?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "They''re all gone."

    "What are?"

    "I forgot that happens," I say. "It should have taken longer."

    "What should have?"

    "The messages from the dork," I try not to cry. "They always disappear after a time and I keep forgetting that. I was going to show you what he said but he-he-he-m-m-m-mabye h-h-he-"

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Slowly. In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ like that, yeah. Keep doing your breaths."

    That''s really hard to do, though, because I really do hallucinate, don''t I? The messages from the dork always vanish after I stop thinking about our interaction so I''ve never been able to go back and reference them if I''ve stopped thinking about it. I only ever have his number when I need it, too, which would definitely be explained by me hallucinating.

    "I think he''s a hallucination!" I cry. "I''m sorry for being so stupid and broken, Mr. Trey! I can''t help that my brain is all broke and stuff! I-I-I''ll go pack my things and-"

    "Xander!" Mr. Trey''s voice is a little bit louder than normal. He''s not yelling, but it scares me. "You''re not in trouble and I''m not sending you back.

    "Regarding the dork¡­" Mr. Trey thinks for a few moments, then grabs his phone, dials a number, and puts his phone up to his ear. "Hold on one moment. Sean, when S.G. arrives, could you please hold him for a minute? I need to talk with Xander about something. Thanks.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey puts down his phone and looks at me. "Regarding the dork, it''s possible that he''s both real and a hallucination. That you do actually know this boy and interact with him, but you also maybe sometimes hallucinate.

    "If this kid really is as smart as you told me," Mr. Trey says. "Then it''s possible your brain tries to use him to remind you of stuff that you''ve forgotten. The other possibility is that he hacks your phone and deletes his messages and none of it is a hallucination. Are you able to ask?"

    "Um¡­"

    I find that our chat is available again, so I send a message in it.

    Xander: R u a huloosinashin?

    Supreme Sucker Sucker: There is a 17.94387213% chance that I am a collective hallucination held by mankind as a whole. Since I am able to interact with other people and objects and the world around me, however, it does not matter and so I count as a whole.

    Supreme Sucker Sucker: Pa told me that I have to get out of the bath in five minutes. After I do and get dried off and dressed, I''ll drop the suckers off.

    "Here!" I show Mr. Trey the messages¡­ hoping that he can see them and maybe he''s right and I''m not hallucinating.

    "A collective hallucination?" Mr. Trey asks. "Wait. They vanished. Xander¡­ I think he''s hacked your phone and deletes the chat."

    "O-oh¡­" I look at the phone again as I shift uncomfortably. "So he''s maybe a hallucination¡­ but I really do hallucinate. I see weird things all the time. But everyone calls me crazy if I say it so I don''t because I don''t want to be crazy and try not to hallucinate! I''m sorry, Mr. Trey! I don''t want my brain to be broke, either, but I don''t know how to fix it!"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Tiffany already warned me about your hallucinations. The ''little fairies'', right?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "And some of them are actually real, which makes it really confusing. I try to ignore them all so that I stop hallucinating but it doesn''t work. I try to get my brain to work right but it won''t. I''m so sorry for being a bad boy, Mr. Trey. Please don''t send me back! I like living here!"

    "I''m not going to send you back," Mr. Trey says. "Do you remember when you were hit by a car when you were four?"

    "N-no," I answer. "But I know it happened. They said I was riding a tricycle at the time and a drunk man drove off the street and hit me. I have to get brain scans every year to make sure I''m not worse, or something like that. I hate them."

    "It was a drunk woman," Mr. Trey tells me. "And you were riding in the street, but in a cul-de-sac that she didn''t live in and had no reason to be in. You and some other kids from the group home you were living in at the time were all there. One of the girls was also hit and she died."

    "O-oh," I feel my face heat up. "I''m sorry for not remembering it properly."

    "Xander," Mr. Trey points at my forehead. "You have severe brain damage from that incident," he lowers his hand. "The fact that you''re even alive is a miracle. Your memory problems, the hallucinations¡­ they''re a result of this damage. Why is it that you''re scared of dropping things so much and don''t like holding glass or other fragile objects?"

    "I-I can''t always grip things right," I tell him. "My hands just sometimes don''t want to. It''s even worse when I get all shaky from being scared or anxious or nervous and I''m sorry! I''m really sorry! I didn''t mean to drop that glass!"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Your problems with gripping things properly is also because of this damage to your brain. It''s affected your fine motor control and it''s impressive that you''re able to do so well most of the time."

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "That''s¡­ that''s because my brain is broken?"

    "Yes," Mr. Trey says. "Your brain essentially controls your whole body. And Tiffany wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into by looking into adopting you. She didn''t want me to be surprised by the news that you were only alive by a miracle and to know what''s going on with your situation. Not just the trauma from your old home but the stuff caused by the damage to your brain from the accident before that."

    "S-so you knew?" I ask. "All along?"

    "Yes," Mr. Trey says. "Well, not from the start. I''d initially asked about a boy who might have trouble finding another home and they initially only told me that you had some PTSD from your previous home and it made you difficult to work with. After we talked for a few weeks, they let me know about the brain damage."

    Mr. Trey has to think for a few seconds about the next part and that scares me.

    "You''re a good kid, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "You struggle with things but you still do your best despite that. When you try something, you put in your best effort. You didn''t have to jump into the pool on Monday but forced yourself to because you wanted to work on your fear at a faster pace.

    "In the weeks that we were talking at the home to see if we would see about you living here," Mr. Trey says. "I could see this and grew to like the boy I saw. In the nineteen days since you moved into here, I haven''t once regretted that decision. You''re a good kid, Xander, and I still want you as my son. Even knowing that you have problems, even knowing that you could die from that brain damage at any moment. I still want to be your father, Xander.

    "In fact," Mr. Trey says. "The more I get to know you, Xander, the more I want to try and help you. Seeing you struggle, seeing you suffer¡­ you''re looking in my eyes again so I know you can tell I''m being honest here. I do already feel like you''re my son, Xander, and I want to make sure your life is as easy as possible from now on. Okay?"

    "Even¡­ even knowing that the miracle might end because I''m so worthless and then I''ll die?" I ask. "The last time I overheard the doctor about my brain, they said it was so broke it really is a miracle I''m alive and I could maybe die at any time."

    "You''re strong, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You''re not going to die just like that. This isn''t a world like in some stories you read, where magic doesn''t exist and people have to come up with ways for society to progress without it. Magic is everywhere here and through it, anything is possible. There might even be a way to fix the damage to your brain so that you can live as a normal, happy, healthy boy."

    "I don''t think the world is that nice."

    "You never know, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "I know you don''t like mentions of the Lumaria Kings because of what your last foster family did, but they have extraordinary regeneration rates. Research has probably been done on things like that and the healing of phoenixes and trolls and other such creatures. There might be a medicine that can be used to heal your brain."

    "The dork can heal really fast," I tell him. "I¡­ think he''s a Lumaria King. He blew off his jaw eating a muffin and it was fully healed within a few days."

    Mr. Trey gives me a weird look when I say that.

    "If he can heal that fast," Mr. Trey says. "Then either he only made you think he blew off his jaw using some sort of illusion magic or he really is a Lumaria King¡­ and an extremely powerful one. Regenerating lost body parts takes them awhile but advanced regeneration is in their bloodline and occurs passively for them. How did he blow off his jaw eating a muffin?"

    "Um¡­" I shift a little uncomfortably. "Fully explaining would involved saying something illegal he did. Please don''t be mad at me!"

    "Not mad, just confused," Mr. Trey says. "I do want to know what it was he did, though."

    I really don''t want to say but at the same time, I don''t want Mr. Trey to get mad at me for not being honest with him and telling him what happened. He''s asking me questions and if I don''t answer, he might send me back to the boys'' home. I like living here.

    "On April 8<sup>th</sup> of this year," I say. "He stole a bomb from a military base because he wanted to see if zramino powder would make muffins taste better and it was the easiest way he could find to acquire it. He wasn''t expecting the muffin to blow up when he bit into it and it really broke his face. His whole jaw was gone and he even broke the upper part of his mouth and even part of his brain. Unlike mine, his can heal from that. It looked really horrible and scared me lots. After he recovered, he used some sort of magic to neutralize the explosive aspect of the powder in the remaining muffins so that he could eat them. He said it tasted better when the explosive magic wasn''t neutralized."

    Mr. Trey stares at me for many long seconds.

    "That kid is definitely a King from that family," Mr. Trey tells me, then snorts. "Whatever you do, don''t ever compare yourself to him. It will only make you feel worse and is like comparing a mortal to a god."

    "O-okay."

    "Just to make sure," Mr. Trey says. "Do you understand what I was saying?"

    "Um¡­" I frown. "I-I don''t remember."

    "About your situation."

    "That¡­ you know about me having a broken brain and being scared and did even before you took me in," I say. "And that¡­ you really do think of me like a¡­ um¡­ I don''t remember, but I know you were being honest. And you want to make my life peasy. I don''t want it to be peasy, though, because I hate peas. They taste awful. Is that¡­ is that okay? Can we make it blueberries? I don''t know what it means to be peasy but can it be replaced with blueberries? Or cheesecake?"

    Mr. Trey starts laughing but covers his mouth so not much sound comes out. He still shakes a little as he quietly laughs. After he does that for a few moments, he lowers his hand but is still smiling. I look down at my socks.

    "Xander," he says. "Can you look me in the eyes again? Thank you. I said I do think of you like my son. We''ve known each other for more than two months by this point and you''ve grown on me a lot in that time."

    "Like ivy?"

    "We can discuss what ''grown on me'' means later," he tells me. "S.G. arrived a minute ago so we should finish up so that he doesn''t wait too long. We''re almost done anyway. I do think of you like a son, Xander, and I want to make your life as easy as possible. I care about you."

    "Not peasy?"

    "Not peasy," he says, then laughs. "That was a big sigh of relief. You really don''t like peas, do you?"

    "N-no."

    "That''s fine," he says. "Is there anything you want to ask or say before I let them know it''s okay to let S.G. in now?"

    I try to think of something but can''t, and that bothers me. If he''s asking, then that means there probably is supposed to be something. Maybe he won''t punish me for not remembering.

    My body does want me to do something, though. Mr. Trey didn''t seem bothered by it last time, so I give him a hug before realizing I probably should have asked first. That doesn''t seem to bother Mr. Trey, though, as he wraps an arm around me to return the hug.

    "Are you ready for breakfast?" He asks once I step back.

    "Y-yeah."

    "Then dry your tears and have a seat," Mr. Trey says. "I''ll let them know that S.G. can come in."

    I use the napkin he offers to me wipe my face and after throwing that away, I sit at the seat set up for me and wait for S.G. to arrive. He comes in looking a little bit worried and like he wants to say something, but he doesn''t say whatever it is and just sits down as he greets us. Something is off about him. His usual energy is gone but I think he''s trying to fake having it.

    "S-sorry for delaying," I tell him. "Mr. Trey and I were talking about something important but private. I came down a little bit earlier ''cause I thought we''d have time but I guess I didn''t come down early enough. The conversation became something I wasn''t expecting."

    A lot of big somethings I wasn''t expecting.

    "It''s cool," S.G. grins at me. "How are you?"

    "Already a little bit tired," I admit. "But I''m ready for breakfast and classes. Um¡­ please don''t be upset, but I do like hanging out with you but Luke''s coming back tonight so he''ll be here for classes again tomorrow and I feel safer with him than you. Sorry."

    I know I fucked up the wording but I hope S.G. understands and isn''t too mad.

    "I get it," S.G. tells me. "You wanted me here because you don''t want to be alone with adults, right? Luke is¡­ a powerful lightning mage who can take down a lightning elemental. I''m a novice air mage. This isn''t for hanging out, it''s for comfort. I understand!"

    He still seems upset.

    "Sorry," I look down at the plate in front of me.

    "Oh, right!" S.G. bounces in his seat a little. "Isaac''s coming back from his mom''s on Sunday and we''re all gonna go play laser tag after! Do you want to play with us? It''s fifteen dollars a game per person for one game, twenty-eight for two games, and forty for three games. Per person, not per game. So if we do three games, it''s forty dollars. Food not included. We usually do three games but you won''t have to do three if you come and can do one or two. Or more if you really want."

    They tag each other with lasers? I guess protective equipment is involved to avoid injuries. Fifteen dollars seems really cheap for that, though. Maybe it''s an old place and they''ve already paid off the equipment and it''s not too good in quality but still works?

    Wait. I just offended him but now he''s inviting me to play a game with him? Nick''s mentioned playing laser tag before and I know he likes it so it''s not that dangerous. It''s also something he''s doing with his friends. I just told him I don''t think he can protect me but he wants me to hang out with him and his friends again?

    This is confusing. I¡­ I don''t know what to do!

    "C-can I think about it?"

    "Sure!" S.G. says. "We''ll be getting there at about three-thirty. They start the games on-the-hour."

    "O-okay," I say. "T-thanks."

    A few seconds of silence pass and I don''t know what to say. S.G. is confusing me, too, because he''s still looking upset even though he invited me to play. I must have responded wrong. I''m sorry!

    "I think we''re ready for breakfast now," Mr. Trey tells Ms. Katie.

    "Alright," Ms. Katie brings in a platter with a bunch of slices of french toast on it.

    Breakfast today consists of thick slices of french toast, biscuits with gravy, sausage links, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt with granola, nuts, and blueberries. Mr. Trey and S.G. get raspberries and blackberries in their yogurt as well but I asked for mine without. We''re allowed to choose how much gravy goes on our biscuits, and there''s a choice of butter, apple butter, maple syrup, and a blueberry sauce that has blueberries in it.

    I eat enough french toast that I can try them all and decide that soaking the french toast in maple syrup and then coating it in the blueberry sauce makes it taste the best. To drink, I go with both orange juice and milk. S.G. does the same as well, though he goes with chocolate milk for some weird reason.

    "A lot has already happened this morning," I tell S.G. after we finish eating breakfast "And my brain is all tired and needs a rest. I''m sorry for being a bad host and friend but I need a nap before classes start. Otherwise, I''ll have a harder time focusing during the class and maybe even fall asleep. Um¡­ I don''t know what you can do to wait and I''m really sorry for this but I need it. I know that-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "It''s okay. Our discussion was probably quite a lot for you to take in. I''m sure S.G. understands that you''re already a little overstimmed. Go on and take a nap. S.G., do you remember the games room from Xander''s tour?"

    "I don''t remember a games room," S.G. tells him. "I remember a theater."

    "There''s a games room as well," Ms. Katie tells S.G. "I can show him to it, Trey."

    "Thanks," Mr. Trey tells her.

    "Get some rest, man," S.G. tells me. "I''ll see you when you come back down for class."

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    Xander could really tell that something was bothering me, to the point that he even rode to my house with me after lunch. He also fell asleep on the way there, and Quinn assured me that was expected as Xander ended up going for a nap almost right after I leave the last couple of days.

    If Xander had directly asked me again after the first time, especially once we arrived at my house, then I probably would have told him. Conner, Sam, and Isaac are probably good for venting to but I really don''t want to bother them so I won''t say unless I''m asked. Mr. Thompson promised not to tell Connor when I told him this morning¡­ he''d also noticed something was off and asked me. With Xander, it''s more that I would have given in and vented a little.

    But it''s something really stupid. It''s bothering me a lot, though, and even playing video games isn''t distracting me enough. Argh! If only Isaac wasn''t in another state, Sam wasn''t hanging out with his parents, and Connor wasn''t doing chores right now. I''d try and ask one of them to hang out to give me something else to do.

    Maybe I could invite Connor and Sam over for a sleepover once they''re done with their stuff, though? We can go down the street and get more ice cream and splurge on it just for fun.

    My phone beeps as I realize I''m starting to get depressed again, so I quickly push away those thoughts and check my phone. It''s from Xander¡­ and is a picture that was probably taken by someone else since it''s not blurry. One thing I''ve learned since I started texted him is that Xander is bad at taking pictures, so any that look focused and good was taken by someone else.

    The picture he sent me is of blueberry bread slices with a small dish of a whitish spread that has a slight brownish tint to them.

    Xander: Ms. Katee and I maed thez tha r bloobiree bread with sinamin iceeng to put an them

    Sig: How do they taste?

    Xander: Good

    I try to talk with him about making them but his misspellings make it really difficult for me to keep going after a few messages, so I start sending him memes instead. It''s easy to tell that he''s trying his best to send memes back but doesn''t really understand what they are. That doesn''t bother me, though, because it''s fun to text with Xander just like with any of my other friends.

    All of that stops when the front door is unlocked and a woman walks into the house. She has the same jet-black hair and blue eyes that my mom and I have, and is bringing two pink suitcases with her.

    "Aunt Rachel!" I hop up from the couch and rush over to give her a hug. "What are you doing here?"

    "I decided to move into the area," she returns the hug while nudging me out of the doorway so she can close it. "My only family is here and my job can be done from anywhere, so I decided it''s time I moved to be closer to you guys."

    "You got a house down here?"

    "Not yet," she pats me on the back, then separates from me. "I''ll be staying here until I find one, if your parents don''t mind. Do you know when they''ll be home?"

    "They went to the Grand Canyon last week," I tell her. "I stayed behind because I had plans for the weekend ¨C I was going camping with Conner and Mr. Thompson ¨C and was helping out a new friend with some stuff this week. You remember Xander, right? The boy from the bowling alley? Turns out that he''s a foster kid, and he''s got a new home. His new dad arranged for him to have some fitness stuff to help build up strength, but also to learn how to swim in case it''s ever needed and martial arts so he can defend himself if attacked. Xander''s really skittish, though, and doesn''t like being alone with adults so they have another boy in the room with him to make him feel more comfortable. The usual one was out of town for a vacation the last few days so I was doing that for him. My parents should be back sometime next week."

    That''s what I''ve been feeling down about. I woke up to a text from my parents saying they''ll be gone until next week and have ordered food delivery. It arrived. It was four cases of ramen, two gallons of milk, and three pounds of potatoes. I''m not entirely sure what they were thinking with that order.

    "Oh!" I exclaim. "I didn''t know you were coming so the guest room''s stuff hasn''t been changed yet. Let me do that!"

    I help Aunt Rachel carry her suitcases to the guest room, then I strip off the bedclothes and get them in the wash before putting new sheets, blankets, and pillowcases on. All through that, I talk with her, telling her about finally talking with Xander, his interest in baking, and other stuff that''s happened since we first saw Mr. Caldwell at the bowling alley.

    "Let me take a good look at you," Aunt Rachel says once we''re in the living room again. "Jeez, Sig. You''ve gotten bigger since Easter."

    "I''ve grown an inch!" I grin at her. "If I keep growing at this rate, then I''ll need to get Mom and Dad to take me to the store for new clothes before school starts!"

    It''s a good thing it''s summer since the difference isn''t as noticeable in shorts as it would be in pants, though I kind of want to get new clothes before the bottoms of the shorts are too far above my knees.

    At least with clothes shopping, I can just talk my parents into taking me to the store by saying I need to try on the clothes myself to make sure they fit since I''m getting too big for these ones. Once we''re at the store, I can pick out some new outfits and they''ll buy them. With me there, it''s a guarantee I''ll at least get what I need.

    "That''s nice," she puts a hand on my head. "Though you should stop growing. You''re already losing your cuteness."

    "Aunt Rachel!" I exclaim. "No! I''m gonna stay cute and awesome forever, no matter how much I grow! Oh! Look at this picture! Xander sent it to me a little bit before you arrived! Um¡­ you might not understand what he''s saying. He''s bad at spelling and tries to spell words how they sound to him. But his next message after good is him telling me that he measured and mixed everything. Oh! And it''s blueberry bread with cinnamon icing. Speaking of food, I asked Mr. Thompson if he could take me grocery shopping tomorrow but if you''re here, could you? I want to go shopping with you! Mom and Dad said to use some of my money for the mid-trip shopping and just give them the receipts and they''ll give me back the money for anything that''s not too extreme. So buying, like, six gallons of ice cream would just come out of my money."

    That''s not true at all. I did ask Mr. Thompson and I told him the same thing, but my parents never said that. The only thing they''ve said to me since leaving for their trip is that they weren''t going to be back until sometime next week and that they''d ordered food to arrive sometime between two and three this afternoon. What will happen is I''ll let them know the food they ordered wasn''t enough and I needed to buy some both when they left and after and I''ll get thirty dollars.

    There''s no reason to make Aunt Rachel worry.

    "I noticed the boxes of ramen and the bag of potatoes," Aunt Rachel looks toward the kitchen. "Leftovers from a different trip?"

    "Yeah," I tell her.

    "Well," she ruffles my hair. "I can take you today, Sig. Have you eaten dinner yet? It''s around that time and I''m hungry. We can get something while we''re out."

    "Pizza!"

    "We can do pizza!" She laughs. "You were telling me about a new pizza place that was being built when I was last here. We can stop there before getting groceries if they''re open now. Try to come up with what you want to get while we''re shopping during dinner. You''ll need actual food for meals but don''t hold back on what snacks you want. I''ll make sure your parents reimburse me for at least the essential stuff, and the rest will be a treat from me."

    While my parents are a bit stupid when it comes to what I need to actually eat and how much it costs, Aunt Rachel is an adult. If she tells them something cost so much and shows them the receipts, she''ll be able to get them to repay her. I don''t have to spend my savings on this!

    "Really?" I start bouncing in excitement.

    "Yes," she grins and ruffles my hair again. "I''ll make sure you get balanced meals, just tell me what you want. Go get ready to go now."

 Chapter 022

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "It was an incredibly awesome vacation, Parker!" I tell Parker as we get into Mom''s car. "I met these other kids there and we were able to talk about some advanced magical stuff, which is rare for me to find. I was kind of sad to have to leave to help Mom with the work stuff last night but it was still fun. Especially discussing Nabdioak''s theory of intertwined magic with Tyler. Oh! He was this really awesome guy, but I doubt we''ll stay in touch. I do have his number, though. And Colby''s and Emma''s, too. But it''s not like any of my vacation friends every stay in touch. I''ll try until they quit, they were fun to talk to. Tyler comes from a family of monster hunters and is pretty cool. He was showing me some of his moves yesterday and I even fought a little bit, though that turned into us wrestling around in the sand, which led to another issue. Fortunately, a bit of lightning magic was able to get the sand off of us. It was pretty funny, seeing his hair stick up from the static."

    "You did remember to have him drain his magic first, right?" Parker asks Mom.

    He''s annoyed, too? I guess he''s finally given up on dealing with my babbling tendency. I didn''t even realize that I was babbling and he just went straight to asking Mom about draining my magic.

    "We did," Mom tells him. "He''s almost completely empty. However, he''s apparently eaten half a gallon of ice cream already so he''s hyped up on sugar. No amount of draining his magical energy can fix that."

    "Uh¡­" Parker gives me a slightly bothered look. "Do you think it''s a good idea to be around Xander? He''s probably going to get jumpy around you if you''re babbling¡­ why did you eat ice cream so early when you were going over? And how come you didn''t invite me?"

    "The ice cream was an accident," I tell him. "And I can avoid babbling as much¡­ I think. Xander''s pretty blunt about it when I talk too much so I''ll have an easier time."

    I don''t think Xander knows that he''s coming off as rude with his bluntness, but he does apologize after because he thinks he''s in trouble. It''s kind of amusing but mostly concerning. At least he tries to be nice about it. We''ll never be friends because I''m too much for him, but I''m glad to be able to help him.

    "How was eating half a gallon of ice cream before eight in the morning an accident?"

    "I haven''t slept yet and didn''t realize it was morning and ate it to try and stay awake."

    "Just drink coffee like a normal person," Parker holds up his travel cup of coffee.

    "I don''t think that much coffee is healthy for you."

    "Says the guy who eats half a gallon of ice cream for breakfast."

    "I had a potato hash dish with fruit for breakfast," I tell him. "Also some extra bacon on the side."

    "You''re not helping your case," Parker says.

    "Oh! Speaking of cases!" I pull out my phone. "Check out the new case for my phone. I got it while on break. The other one was fine, but I like this one better."

    My old case was black and yellow with gold and silver lightning patterns on it. This one is more plain than that and primarily black, but does have a small hellhound on the case. It''s a handmade case that''s made out of two materials, one of them is a gel-like material and the other is a plastic-like material, both made using natural resources from the island. The softer material slips around the phone, then the harder one ''snaps'' into that to help hold it into place but also add a harder shell with some gaps in the sides to expose the softer one for grip.

    "It''s made by one of the island''s natives," I tell him. "Not at a tourist shop but an actual proper shop there. Tyler and I found it while we were hanging out after Colby and Emma had to go to their families for stuff yesterday, before I went to the portal center for a quick return. When the island was first settled, the settlers discovered that there was a nest of hellhounds there and had to battle them to survive. Now, they have a few different symbols of their victory over the monsters and the image on here is one of them. I like it. Might change it up soon, I don''t seem to be too comfortable with things too often. This outfit style is already starting to not really feel right. Been enough time for me to get a proper feel for it. Anyway, Tyler and I were talking with the woman who made the case and she grows some of the materials she uses for her goods herself, but it''s all locally-sourced. Oh! Here''s a picture of Tyler!"

    I show him a picture that I took of Tyler and me before I had to leave, one arm across the other''s shoulders. We''re both wet as we''d just gotten out of the ocean right before the picture was taken. Parker makes a weird face and I swipe over to show him the next picture, which is us making goofy faces.

    "You really had fun on your vacation, didn''t you?" He asks.

    "Yeah!" I answer. "On my first day there¡­"

    I tell Parker more about my trip on the very short drive over to Xander''s and when we arrive, we''re allowed inside and so make our way to the classroom. Xander''s peeking into it from outside, the door barely cracked open.

    "Hi, Xander," I whisper in an attempt to not startle him.

    "Hi," Xander whispers back, my attempt successful. "Welcome back from your trip."

    "Thanks," I whisper back to him. "What are you doing?"

    "Waiting for you to arrive," he whispers back. "So that I''m not in there alone with Mr. Massey. Did you bring donuts?"

    "Yes," I whisper. "Also a present for you from my trip. I can show you after the first class ends, when you put your packet in your room."

    "Okay."

    "Why are we whispering?" Parker whispers. "And I''m the one with the donuts. And the cheesecake."

    "Cheesecake?" Xander doesn''t whisper as he looks over. "You put it in your backpack?"

    "Ms. Katie took it to put in the fridge while we''re in class," Parker tells him. "Luke asked me to bring it as an apology to you. From him, I mean. He feels bad about abandoning you like that."

    "Oh," Xander shifts uncomfortably. "That''s okay. I asked someone else. He came to the classes for the last few days."

    "One of the boys from the home?"

    "Someone else," Xander turns around and opens the door. "Come on in."

    Xander seems¡­ more comfortable than he did before my sudden vacation. Did something happen while I was gone? Does it have to do with the person he invited over to help with things while I was away?

    The beanbags are rearranged from the setup we had last week, with Xander''s green one in its usual spot but a blue one to its left, where the yellow one I use normally sits, and the blue one that Parker uses isn''t in its spot. Ours are moved back a little, indicating that it was probably just the one kid Xander mentioned who came over to be the other kid here for the lessons.

    "Morning, boys," Mr. Massey greets us.

    "Morning," Xander responds.

    "Hi, Mr. Massey!" I wave to Mr. Massey.

    "Hello," Parker greets the teacher.

    Xander sits down on his beanbag while Parker and I move ours back into their spots. There''s a backpack sitting beside Xander''s beanbag, no doubt containing whatever snacks he decided to bring for today.

    Mr. Massey does a review test for us today to see how much we retained from last week''s lesson in Social Studies. Parker and I already did this class a few years ago but we didn''t remember everything from it so it was more like a refresher course for us.

    I think Xander hates Social Studies as a class type entirely. He seemed more frustrated during it last week and this week than I remember him being for any other class.

    "Okay," Mr. Massey says after he reviews the test. "Xander, I''m going to dim the lights a little."

    Xander gives a shaky nod, then Mr. Massey gets up and goes to the door to dim the lights. He returns to the front of the room and pulls down a roll-able video screen that definitely wasn''t there last week. It''s similar to the blank white canvas-style things used for projectors for normal schools but is magical and actually a durable piece of magitech. It can be used to play videos, slideshows, or whatever. Depending on how advanced it is, it''s also a touchscreen and a stylus can be used

    "That''s new."

    "Mr. Trey had it installed last night," Xander tells me. "To allow for visual aids as well."

    "Today''s lesson is going to be on the history of North America," Mr. Massey tells us. "Xander, how much do you know about the history of people on this continent? As in, the origins of society and such?"

    "Um¡­ people crossed the Burger Straight lots of thousands of years ago," Xander screws up his face in thought and I have to try really hard not to giggle at his mistake. "And then they had to teach the Cumulonimbus guy how to use magic and he and his people taught them how to make weapons like guns."

    How does Xander know ''cumulonimbus''?

    "Close but far," Mr. Massey says. "That''s a good try though, Xander. It''s the Bering Straight and Curuborm. We''ll be covering a lot of ground today, so don''t forget to take notes."

    Xander nods and prepares some papers for taking notes, then poises a pencil and looks up at the teacher again.

    "We aren''t entirely sure when they started to," Mr. Massey says as he makes a swiping motion at the screen, and a map that shows the Bering Straight shows up on the screen. "But it''s generally accepted that somewhere around one hundred and fifty to one hundred thousand years ago, people began to cross the Bering Straight over into what is now Alaska and Canada, stopping around twenty thousand years ago."

    Mr. Massey goes into a decent amount of detail for Xander, though I''m sure most of it goes in one ear and out the other. This class seems to confuse him more than anything, but at least he still puts in some effort.

    The original settlers took up residence in the northern part of the continent. They attempted to move further south, to what are now the United States of America, but found themselves unable to because of the high amount of powerful monsters.

    Over time, the settlers and their descendants adapted to their land, which resulted in two primary ''clan types''.

    There were the Zrebzial, who had brown eyes, dark brown hair, and fair skin. While they lived in colder areas, it was also more forested for them. They had stockier builds and sturdier bodies, adapted to the colder weather of the northern forests and tundras.

    Then there were the Kenzibri, who lived in the mountains of North America, in the more northern sections, as well as the colder tundras and frost plains. Their hair paled and they developed the blue eye mutation separately from the one which developed in Europe. Though they were slender in build, they still built muscle easily enough and were a strong, hardy people.

    "You''re Kenzibri," Mr. Massey tells Xander. "Maybe fully, maybe partially, but there''s a whole-blooded one in the last few generations or so for you. It''s easy to tell by the structure of your face that you have Kenzibri blood in your veins.

    "Most people in North America," Mr. Massey continues. "Have strong native blood, whether it''s Zrebzial, Kenzibri, Volmezia, or a mixture of the three. However, most don''t lay claim to that ancestry anymore. It has some dilution from immigration, but it doesn''t matter too much. The reason for the lack of claim to it is because over the last six hundred years or so, they essentially started interbreeding and society changed, on top of some immigrants that came over from Europe. Yes, Xander?"

    "What are the Volmezia?" Xander asks with a frown as he puts down his hand. "You, um¡­ you didn''t mention them. You said two tribes. I think."

    "That comes next," Mr. Massey tells Xander. "Two thousand years ago, a Zrebzial tribe got chased south by a group of monsters they couldn''t handle. Unusual for that area and they were simply trying to survive. The clans were already nomadic, so they didn''t have strong defenses and at the time, no human knew magic¡­ or so everyone thought.

    "They were chased into what is now Montana and Tazralz," Mr. Massey continues as a map of the continent appears on the screen. "To this spot here."

    He makes a circular motion near the northern end of Tazralz, not far from where we are depending on how one looks at things. It''s about three hours north of here since we''re at the southern end of the state, though it''s still in the mountains like we are.

    "They reached here," Mr. Massey tells Xander. "And found themselves rescued by a man they initially thought was Kenzibri, but one dressed oddly. A man with hair as fair as the sun and eyes the blue-grey of the ocean with a touch of green mixed into them. How he saved them was strange to them, as he used a weapon they hadn''t. The clans used spears and bows to hunt¡­ and he used magic, a power something only fauna and flora had wielded to their knowledge.

    "That was Adrian King," Mr. Massey says. "He claimed to be from a land called ''Lumaria'', though it isn''t one which any can find, even now. It was he who taught mankind how to use magic, educating the tribes in the art. Adrian King had lived in that area for a long time, though no one knows for sure how long and he''s never said. All he would say is that his people no longer exist."

    The lesson continues on and I can see that Xander is struggling to take notes. I''m pretty sure we still have my notes from this class in storage, so if I can find them, I''ll offer them to him.

    Adrian taught not just that tribe how to use magic, but each of the tribes of both clans. Some of them then migrated further south, into the Great Plains and the hot deserts of North America, continuing their lives as nomads. They were the Volmezia, who developed black hair, dark brown eyes, and tan skin as adaptations over time.

    With the clans ¨C now three instead of two ¨C able to wield magic and combat monsters more easily, their own societies began to grow and flourish. They eventually stopped nomadic lives and started to build more permanent settlements. Some of their advancements included figuring out how to make magic weapons, so their weaker members would use spears and bows and arrows that were magic instead of ordinary ones to fight monsters while their mages would simply use magic directly.

    The way their society was going, they would probably have taken thousands of more years to develop something like a proper gun, or ships which could sail across the oceans. However, they were no longer tribal nations but countries.

    That future of their technological advancement changed with the arrival of Mitchell Curuborm, who discovered the Americas in 1492.

    Europe had some better technology and mundane weapons than North America did, but North America had magic and knowledge of how to make magic items. Combined, they were able to create more stable settlements on both continents and even the southern portion of North America, as well as Central America and South America, were eventually settled.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Even though the rest of the world has had magic for around five centuries now, North America remains the leader in it simply because by the time the east met the west, the clans were pretty heavily magical. Everyone could use magic and was trained in it, and it takes time for bloodlines to build up magical power.

    On top of that, not everyone uses magic even among the descendants of the clans, and things like that or diluting bloodlines resulted in weakened magical inheritances. However, the average American and Canadian mage is still stronger than the average mage from anywhere else. There is simply more in the gene pool than in the rest of the world.

    "That''s one of the reasons why no one messed with us during the two World Wars," I tell Xander. "Back when the Europeans started immigrating into the Americas, it was along the eastern coast but also into the central and southern parts of the Americas, so their influence is stronger there. Especially down south. So Canada and the US remained stronger as a whole.''

    "During the wars," I continue. "When the Brazilian Empire, Kingdom of Central Africa, and various other countries went to war, they avoided messing with the original mages. Part of that was fear that if the US and Canada got involved, so would Adrian in order to ensure his family''s safety. Part of it was because our mages were simply better and there was no guarantee their weapons would break though.

    "During World War II," I continue. "The US government actually got concerned someone would try to draw us in despite our desire to stay out and despite the fear of Adrian King. So they started a secret project that got revealed when they tested it on some uninhabited island. They developed nuclear bombs. Strangely enough, the war coming to a complete end within the next month had absolutely nothing to do with that according to the other governments."

    Xander''s staring at me in confusion.

    "What''s confusing you, Xander?" Mr. Massey asks.

    "Um¡­"

    "Most of North America," Mr. Massey says. "Had strong magical inheritances compared to outside of there. Even when outsiders mingled in and produced heirs with the natives, those children were taught magic early on in this part of history. If the average person outside of it had, say, five to seven magical power, then the average person inside had eight to twelve. Example, not actual measures, Xander.

    "Because of that," he continues. "While the rest of the world went to war, the US and Canada stayed out of it and no one really wanted to try and bring them in. Our mages had genetically superior magical bases. They were concerned that if we entered, then whichever side we picked would ultimately win as a result. On top of that, we had ¨C and still have ¨C Adrian King, the mage who''s lived for thousands of years and taught mankind how to wield magic. No one really knows the extent of his magical power. Do you follow this so far?"

    "Yes," Xander answers.

    "That''s the important part," Mr. Massey says. "Though it''s not too relevant to the discussion. We''ll cover the World Wars in another lesson. It''s time for a break. Take five to stretch your legs, boys."

    We all get up and stretch our legs a bit, then open up our backpacks to bring out our snacks. I brought donuts, milk, sugar cookies, baby carrots, celery, ranch, and grapes today. Parker brought chocolate-chip cookies, oatmeal-raisin cookies, sugar cookies, strawberries, and marshmallow rice treats. Xander brought milk, white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, chips, pretzels, and fruit salad with a fruit dip.

    When class resumes, it''s a review of what we learned before it followed by additional information about the important parts of what happened during the history of the clans. This is different from last week, where before and after the short break had focuses on different things each day. Did they decide to screw trying to get Xander fully prepared before school resumes in August and just try to reinforce the lessons for him?

    "Xander," I say once the class is over and Xander''s getting ready to take his packet up to his room. "Can I come up with you?"

    "Yes."

    Parker and I head up to Xander''s room and I have to resist the urge to check out his closet to see if Trey has bought him anything else to wear since the last time I looked. That would only make Xander more self-conscious, I''m sure, and I don''t want to upset him. I want to help him with his fears and make him more comfortable, not less.

    When Xander comes out of his office, he stops and stares at me. I hold up the item I''d taken out of my backpack while he was putting his packet away.

    It''s a hellhound plushie I bought yesterday specifically for Xander. I''m not doing it to win his trust over or anything, I just think it would make him happy and he''s definitely a boy who could use such a thing. The plan was always to get him a souvenir from the island since I do that for my friends and family and even if Xander and I will probably never be friends, it doesn''t hurt to treat him like one.

    "It''s for you!" I tell him. "I saw it while Tyler and I were talking about some stuff on the island yesterday ¨C oh! Tyler''s just another kid who was there on vacation. I met him and a couple of others and we hung out a ton. Anyway, this is a hellhound plushie and I thought he''d be a fun companion for the other two plushies! Do you want him? I bought Parker and my parents souvenirs, too."

    "Um¡­" Xander shifts uncomfortably, then nods.

    I hand him the plushie and he climbs up onto his bed to set it with the three he already has¡­ wait, three? I count the plushies and confirm he has a third one that he didn''t have before. It''s a grey wolf plushie and the bear is set between it and the lightning wolf plushie I gave him the other day.

    "When''d you get the grey one?" I ask. "You didn''t have it before, right?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "I went with Mr. Trey when he went to the store to buy some stuff yesterday and he bought it for me."

    "Oh," I say. "That''s cool. Hey! I''m not being too hyper for you today, am I? Parker said I''m too hyper."

    "No," Parker says. "I said you might scare Xander with how hyper you are. You''re always too hyper so that bit doesn''t need to be said. It''s simply the fact of your existence."

    "Wh-hey!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Hellhounds or elementals?" I ask Luke after we finish lunch.

    "Huh?" He gives me a confused look.

    No! I wasn''t clear enough and messed up! Now he''s going to be upset with me for confusing him, isn''t he? It''s my own fault, too, because I was too nervous about him being mad at me that I didn''t even ask the question properly.

    "Um¡­" I look down at my hands as Ms. Katie clears the dishes from the table. "I meant¡­ do you and Parker want to stay and watch a documentary with me? I was thinking about either hellhounds ''cause of the stuffed animal you gave me or elementals ''cause I heard that you fought a lightning elemental and beat it up real bad. S.G. told me."

    "S.G.''s the friend you had coming over when we weren''t?" Parker asks. "He''s a cool dude."

    "I-I think he said the same thing about you," I tell him. "I-I don''t remember the exact wording but I know he seemed to think you were okay."

    "Who''s S.G.?" Luke asks.

    "A kid from DFMS," Parker tells him. "We weren''t friends but he and Connor, his only other friend at the school, were always pretty fun guys to hang around. A bit goofy and often hyper, but pretty nice."

    "He only has one friend?" Luke asks.

    "No," Parker says. "He has some ''friends'' who are just friendly people he hangs out with sometimes, and there''s two more kids he hangs out with but they live in Lakeview so go there instead. I''ve played basketball with them at the park a few times."

    S.G. and his friends are at the park right now. He sent me pictures of them playing basketball, with all four of them shirtless. I don''t know who the fourth person is as it''s not Isaac but I think he''s still one of S.G.''s friends.

    "Oh, cool," Luke says.

    "How''d you meet them?" Parker asks.

    This makes me nervous. Does he not want me to be friends with them? That''s okay, we aren''t friends. I''m too worthless to have any of those and will probably get beaten if I try to make any.

    "Bowling alley," I answer. "I go bowling most Tuesdays. Last week, they invited me to bowl with them this week. I didn''t, but we did talk while there."

    "You bowl?" Luke asks.

    "Yeah," I tell him. "But I don''t want to bowl with you. Sorry! I-I-I-I didn''t-"

    "It''s cool," Luke says. "I''m just impressed that you bowl. What''s your average?"

    "Average?"

    "Score."

    "Do you want to watch a documentary?"

    Parker snickers as I hope that Luke doesn''t get mad that I''m ignoring his question. If I tell him, he''ll accuse me of lying and then not want to come and help me be comfortable during my classes and I''d like someone who can fight elementals around for that. Asking the dork would create complications if he''s real but also if he''s a hallucination so I don''t want to go with him, and I prefer the parts of hanging out with S.G. that aren''t for classes. S.G. also doesn''t have the skills to defend me like Luke and the dork do.

    "I didn''t actually kill a lightning elemental," Luke tells me. "It was a weaker one and the fight ended in a draw. Stories like that tend to get exaggerated during re-tellings of it. Let''s go with the hellhound documentary! I know a little about them but not too much."

    "They''re lava wolves."

    "I-I know that," Luke snorts.

    "Sorry."

    "It''s cool," he grins. "Where are we watching it?"

    "Theater room," I tell him. "But I want to get Trenton first. He likes watching documentaries with me. Also, the hellhound documentary is a little more than two hours long. I forgot to mention that. Sorry. The one about elemnetals is about an hour and forty-one minutes long for the first part and about as long for the second."

    It''s important to tell them the times in case they have other plans or don''t want to sit for a long one. I''m not sure why the documentary about elementals is almost three and a half hours long but it is. I guess there''s just a lot of stuff to learn about them.

    "We''ll meet you in the theater room!" Luke says.

    "Xander," Ms. Katie returns to the table. "An additional fridge has been set up in there with some colder snacks as well. I also stocked in some candy in the cabinets just in case you want some."

    "T-thank you," I tell her. "I-I don''t like candy that much, but maybe Luke and Parker do."

    "Do you want me to bring some of the cheesecake to the room?" Ms. Katie asks. "It''s plain cheesecake with caramel swirls and chopped pecans. No chocolate."

    "Yeah," Parker says. "You said you don''t like chocolate so when Luke asked about bringing a cheesecake for you, I made sure it didn''t have any."

    "Oh," I think for a few moments. "Thank you. And, um¡­ no thank you, Ms. Katie. Cheesecake isn''t really movie food to me. Sorry."

    Hopefully, that''s a good response.

    "It''s okay," she smiles at me. "Enjoy the movie, Xander."

    I''m not sure how to react to that, so I get up and let them know I''m going to go get Trenton. After grabbing my teddy bear, I go to the theater room to find Luke looking at the concessions area and Parker holding him back. It seems like Luke is wanting to go into it and I''m not sure why Parker isn''t letting him.

    "Hey, Xander," Parker looks over at me. "Keeping Luke from trying to use your popcorn machine. He''d probably break it."

    Parker has the right idea. It''s rude to go into someone else''s house and start using stuff without first making sure it''s okay. I''m allowed to use the stuff in here because Mr. Trey said I could and I know that I can share the food and stuff in here if I want to because Mr. Trey said so, but Luke hasn''t been given permission. I would probably get into trouble for letting him even though there''s not much I could do to stop Luke if he really wanted to.

    "Would not!" Luke says.

    "Do you want popcorn?" I ask. "I can make some for you if you want. We have different flavor options."

    "Sure!" Luke stops struggling against Parker, who lets him go. "Buttery! Extra buttery, please!"

    "Do you want popcorn, Parker?" I ask.

    "Yes, please," Parker says. "Buttery is fine for me as well."

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ is it okay if I make mine first? There''s only the one machine and if I do buttery first, then the buttery remnants will get on my popcorn if I make it second. Sorry."

    I don''t know much about hosting other people but I think it''s bad to ask to go first instead of your guests.

    "That''s fine!" Luke says. "You don''t like buttery popcorn?"

    "I like buttery popcorn."

    I start making popcorn, then put in some soft pretzels to warm up and cheese sauce to heat up. The new refrigerator in here also has a freezer, and there are things like pudding and jello in the fridge part and different types of ice cream in the freezer. Some of it is homemade stuff while others aren''t. The pudding comes in tubs rather than little individual cups, so I''m sure Ms. Katie made them. The same goes for the jello and some of the ice cream.

    Butterscotch pudding?

    "It''s got a weird flavor," Luke says from where he''s wrestling Parker on the ground. "It''s definitely a niche taste."

    "I don''t know what niche means," I realize I must have muttered the flavor. Mr. Trey told me I mutter sometimes, if I''m remembering correctly. "But I like it. I''m just surprised ''cause I didn''t think there would be any. I haven''t had it here yet."

    Not only that, but I haven''t told anyone I like it before now because other boys at the home complained anytime we had it there. Some of them said that no one liked it, so that must mean that my tastes really are bad if I do. I already get judged enough, that''s not something else I wanted people to judge me over.

    "Trey told me you like it when I was asking him about what to stock the fridge with," Ms. Katie says, and I look over to find her having entered the room and walking over with a tray that has some dishes on it. "I realized that I forgot to put bowls and spoons in here in case you needed them."

    "H-how did Mr. Trey know I like butterscotch pudding?"

    "Tiffany told him," she tells me as I grab a squeeze bottle of caramel from the fridge, which I then close before going over to the popcorn machine, which has finished its first batch of popcorn. "She said that she noticed that anytime there was butterscotch or lemon pudding at the home, you seemed more anxious about being last but always happy some was set aside for you. I mixed up batches of those, banana, and vanilla pudding for you. Don''t worry about eating it quickly. As long as the lids are fixed on securely, the enchantments on the containers will activate. They''re stasis tubs, similar to the boxes you had the pies in."

    Ms. Johnson noticed that I liked them and told Mr. Trey, and he suggested putting those puddings in here for me to snack on while watching documentaries? That''s really nice of him. And also of Ms. Johnson, too.

    "Thank you, Ms. Katie," I say as I finish putting popcorn into a bowl, then I start drizzling caramel on it. "And thank you for bringing caramel in here, too."

    "You''re welcome," she puts the bowls and spoons and ice cream scoops into one of the cabinets. "I hope you enjoy."

    I work on getting the next batch of popcorn ready, then get all three of us boys drinks. Luke and Parker both get soda but I fill a cup up with lemonade, then bring their cups over to the seats and stand by the outer side of the left-hand set of seats when facing the screen.

    "Right there is good!" Luke tells me as he puts Parker into a headlock. "Thanks, Xander!"

    "You''re welcome."

    I go back to the concessions area (I''m glad Mr. Trey let me make a sign with the name on it so I can remember it properly) and finish preparing the snacks for all of us. Or at least, the first round of them. Mr. Trey assured me yesterday that it''s okay to get up and get more if I want to. I''m a growing boy who has magic active at all times, it''s okay to eat as much as I can fit in my tummy. That''s what Mr. Trey told me. Not in those exact words, but the meaning is the same.

    Once Luke''s and Parker''s snacks are delivered to them by tray, I finish putting my snacks on a tray, then take it over to a seat on the right-hand side of the space and sit down, making sure to put Trenton on a seat as well. He doesn''t seem to have an issue watching the documentaries like that even though he''s really short compared to the seats.

    I grab the remote and turn on the streaming service that has the documentary we''re watching, then sign in and navigate to the documentary on hellhounds and pull it up. After making sure that Luke and Parker are ready to watch (they''re in their seats now), I play the documentary.

    Apart from a short break halfway through the documentary to refresh our snacks (and so Parker can go to the bathroom), we watch it uninterrupted. It''s pretty interesting and when it finishes, I gather the dirty dishes and put them all on the trays, which are stacked together.

    "Thanks for inviting us to watch that!" Luke tells me.

    "It was pretty interesting," Parker says. "I learned a lot."

    "You''re welcome," I say. "I''m glad you enjoyed it. I think I like it more than I''d like a sleepover."

    "You can watch them at sleepovers, too!" Luke says. "But I guess I can understand why you''re saying that! We''ll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

    "I think so," I say. "Bye.

    Luke and Parker leave and I take the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

    "Did you like the documentary?" Ms. Katie asks as she takes the tray from me.

    "Yes, ma''am."

    "That''s nice," she says. "Learn anything interesting?"

    "Hellhounds aren''t from Earth," I tell her. "They come in through lifts¡­ not lifts¡­ um¡­"

    "Rifts?"

    "Yeah, rifts," I say. "Thank you, Ms. Katie."

    "You''re welcome," she says. "Anything else you learned you found neat?"

    "Not much is known about their native homes," I tell her. "Because it''s too dangerous to enter the rifts to follow. When they die, their lava quickly cools into stone, so studying their lava is difficult, too. Am I annoying you?"

    "No, you''re not annoying me," Ms. Katie tells me. "If you want to tell me what you learned, you can. It''s interesting to hear."

    "Okay," I say. "The stone that their lava cools into is stone but not stone, and it can be ground up and used as a really potent fertilizer. But hellhounds are difficult to fight and are rare, so it''s not used very often. When it is, however¡­"

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Did you notice what Xander did?" I ask Parker once we''re in my room.

    "No," he answers. "What?"

    "Two things!" I tell him as I grab a bag off my dresser and thrust it toward him. "First, he tricked us! It was so subtle I didn''t even realize it until we were twenty minutes into the movie!"

    "How did he trick us?" Parker asks as he pulls out a necklace made of wooden and stone beads from the bag. "Oh, this is cool! What are the images?"

    Each bead has an image carved and painted onto it.

    "They''re different things important to the island," I tell him. "The stone beads are made of volcanic rock, too. That''s your souvenir!"

    "It''s nice," he pulls it on. "Thanks."

    "You''re welcome!" I say. "So back to Xander! The seating! Xander walked over to some of the seats and asked us where we wanted to sit! When we told him there was fine, he put our stuff down¡­ and he sat at the other side! That was totally him doing it so that we''d pick our seats first rather than him pick his and then us sit by him! He tricked us into picking our seats first so that we wouldn''t be by him! And I''m betting he stood in that spot in the hopes that we''d pick there!"

    "Smart move," Parker says. "And he did it without lying, too, so he probably felt okay with doing it."

    "Yeah," I say. "There was probably some anxiety there. I did notice he was a bit anxious but thought it was just because of extended interactions with us. Well, that probably did contribute to it, but he was probably worried that we''d notice and be mad or something."

    "What was the second thing he did?" Parker asks. "He tricked us twice?"

    "No, but maybe yes," I say. "His sleepover comment! Trey totally told him about me wanting to invite him for a sleepover on Friday but him being asleep! Xander''s probably hoping that by inviting us to watch a movie, we won''t invite him to a sleepover this weekend so that we aren''t hanging out too much, or something like that! It''s his way of trying to find a way to say ''no'' to it if I ask anyway, too."

    Chances are good he''ll ask about watching a documentary again tomorrow, and go with the elemental one. He really seemed interested in the documentary we were watching so it wasn''t him just picking something random to use as an excuse. If I accept that and then ask him about a sleepover, he''ll probably try to figure out a way to say that he''s interacted with me too much in a way that doesn''t offend me.

    As forgetful as he might be, Xander''s definitely clever.

 Chapter 023

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Sig?" Aunt Rachel asks as I enter the house.

    "I was gonna shower and get changed," I tell her as I take off my shoes. "That''s why I haven''t put my shirt back on yet. I''m all sweaty and gross."

    It''s extra hot outside today so I''m nearly dripping with sweat now. A shower is an absolute must before I do too much else.

    "Not that," Aunt Rachel says. "It''s just that this is the third time you''ve done mowing in the last week, and you did some dog sitting yesterday as well. Is that normal?"

    "Well, yeah," I answer. "Gets me extra spending money for snacks and games and stuff! I''m upgrading my computer''s graphics card, too. Those are a bit expensive. The one I''ve got my eye on is five hundred dollars. It''s not the best, but it''s good enough. Gotta get it replaced before my current one goes kaput and I finally have enough saved up!"

    When accounting for me having other money put aside for things like games and snacks and bowling and stuff. If we include that money, then I have more.

    Aunt Rachel stares at me for a few very long seconds. That makes me uncomfortable and I don''t know what to do, so I switch topics.

    "By the way," I say. "Mom and Dad wanted to know if you''d be okay with buying groceries so that they can stay on vacation another week, returning next week instead of this one. They said they''ll pay you back. I don''t know why they didn''t just ask you. Oh, and Mr. Thompson said he''ll pick me up at about three to take me to the laser tag place."

    Aunt Rachel once again stares at me for several long seconds. I''m now even more uncomfortable and don''t know what to do about this.

    "You can bet your butt that I''m going to get paid back," she tells me. "Did you want to go on vacation with them, too?"

    "Not the kind they go on," I shake my head. "If I''m going on vacation, then I want to go camping or to theme parks! Their vacations are super boring, especially since it''s just them and me and they like different stuff. Besides. I''ve got plans. It''s almost the Fourth of July and Mr. Thompson''s always got a cool barbecue for it. I wouldn''t have gotten to go camping with Connor and his dad, and I''d not be able to play laser tag with my friends and possibly Xander. He hasn''t told us yet if he''s gonna play or not."

    "Alright," Aunt Rachel says. "Go take a shower, Sig. You smell like grass clippings."

    I head to my room and empty out my pockets. As I pull out my phone, I shoot Xander a text.

    Sig: Know if you''re gonna join us for laser tag?

    I put my phone down, then grab a change of clothes and a towel and head to the bathroom to take a shower. When I return, Xander''s responded.

    Xander: I''ll tri to b ther.

    "Awesome!" I jump up in the air a little in excitement.

    I was worried that Xander didn''t want to hang out with me again after the three days I helped out with his classes just because he seemed overwhelmed, but it seems like he''s okay with it.

    Sig: Cool! See you then!

    Xander: Kan I col u?

    He must want to ask questions about it but isn''t sure he''d be able to do so clearly with his bad spelling. I let him know he can and he calls immediately.

    "Hey, Xander!" I say as I answer the phone. "Did you have questions about laser tag? You just need to be in shoes you''re good with running around in and clothes you''ll be comfortable in! It''s fifteen dollars for one game, twenty-eight for two, and forty for three. Doesn''t cover the costs of any food."

    "N-not that," Xander says. "Um. W-would your friends be okay w-with knowing I live with a rich person?"

    "They''d be amazed," I tell him. "But I promise they aren''t the kind of guys who''d make fun of you or try to get you to pay for stuff for them. Why?"

    "O-oh," he says. "Um¡­ Ms. Katie''s going to start making lunch soon. Um¡­ she and Mr. Trey wanted to know if I wanted to invite you guys over for lunch and hanging out before laser tag. S-swim trunks can be worn or brought. U-um. You guys can s-swim if you want."

    That sounds like Xander won''t swim with us but he''s okay with us swimming without him. I''ll let the others know, but we probably won''t swim unless Xander swims as well.

    "Isaac just got back a few minutes ago," I say. "Want him to come over, too, or just me, Connor, and Sam?"

    "H-he can come," Xander answers. "Mr. Trey said the dads and your aunt could come as well, but we need to know h-how many total are coming s-so Ms. Katie c-can prepare an accordion. I-I''m not sure what an accordion has to do with lunch but I''ll probably wear headphones during it. I''m not sure what numbers have to do with it, either."

    "It was probably ''accordingly''," I tell him. "That would make more sense."

    "Oh," Xander''s quiet for a few moments. "Yeah. Probably. Um¡­"

    "I''ll ask the others and let you know," I tell him.

    "Okay."

    "Bye!"

    "Bye."

    I hang up, then quickly text the others to let them know that Xander''s inviting everyone over for lunch and hanging out before laser tag. Since the adults are invited, I go back out to the living room. My aunt''s currently flipping through the channel guide on TV to see what''s playing.

    "Hey, Aunt Rachel," I say. "Xander''s invited us all to hang out for lunch and stuff before laser tag and said that we could invite the dads and you. Do you want to come?"

    "Xander''s the boy with anxiety you were telling me about, right?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "Yeah."

    "No," she answers. "If one of the other dads won''t pick you up, then I''ll drop you off, but you have fun. The less people who are around, the happier he''ll be, right?''

    "Yeah!" I nod, then text Connor back to let him know that his dad can pick me up.

    He''d already texted back and said his dad wanted to know if he should pick me up or if my aunt was going to take me. Connor responds, then I text Xander to let him know we can all be over for lunch and to ask what time. After all of that''s arranged, I thank Aunt Rachel and let her know I''m going to get ready to go.

    "If this lasts until we have to head to the laser tag place," I tell her. "Then Mr. Thompson''s going to take me there after. If not, then we''ll all head to Connor''s to hang out until it''s time to head over and his dad''ll take me."

    "Alright," Aunt Rachel says. "I''ll get some work done while you''re away."

    "Alright!"

    I get ready to go (swim trunks and a towel go into a backpack), then wait until Mr. Thompson arrives to pick me up. Connor''s in the backseat, while Isaac and Sam are heading over with Isaac''s dad, though Sam''s dad is riding with them.

    "By the way," I tell Connor. "I know I said it in the group chat, but be careful of Xander''s anxiety. He''s got lots, especially about his living situation."

    "I told the other dads already," Mr. Thompson says. "So they''ll talk to Sam and Isaac on the way over. Connor, remember how Xander gets jumpy when people are around him?"

    "''Cause something happened in his past," Connor says. "Before we met him. He gets scared easily. I know I need to not be as hyper, don''t worry!"

    We know our energy can be too much for other people and already try to mind it if others are getting bothered. This isn''t really anything new to us at all.

    "It''s not just that," Mr. Thompson says. "Xander''s foster father, Trey Caldwell, is a wealthy man and has a rather large house. At the moment, Xander is still adjusting to living there and isn''t quite sure he fits in. It''s surprising to me to hear that Xander''s asking more than just Sig to come over. Mentioning how big the house is, how rich his new dad is, or drawing attention to it at all will probably trigger his anxiety. It''s better to not draw attention to his new home''s size or richer features, nor to his new family''s wealth."

    "Yeah," I nod. "If Xander doesn''t mention something directly, it''s better not to."

    "How big is the house?" Connor asks.

    "It has a big outdoor pool," I tell him. "But the swimming lesson was at the indoor pool."

    "They have two pools?" Connor asks in shock.

    "And the indoor one is enchanted to avoid the loud echo," I giggle a little at his expression. "Also, we probably won''t be going upstairs. I don''t think Xander''s comfortable with it."

    "What''s upstairs?" Connor asks.

    "His bedroom," I answer. "But all three days I was there with him, he always hesitated at the bottom of the stairs and mumbled something about ''but I need to put these in the office so they don''t get lost''. Oh, yeah! His bedroom has a huge closet, a separate room for a toilet and sink and for a bath¡­ which is actually a bath and a shower separated so that the shower is for washing and doesn''t affect the bath for bathing. And he has his own office and his computer? I looked up just the bits I could see and Connor! It''s worth, like, fifteen grand! I''m pretty sure it''s a gaming computer, too¡­"

    Mr. Caldwell really wanted to make sure Xander could game if he wanted to.

    "Jeeeeeeez!" Connor exclaims.

    "Yeah!" I nod. "But like your dad and I said, it''s better not to draw attention to this sort of stuff with Xander. It''ll just freak him out and I think he just wants to hang out and have fun before going to a crowded¡­ oh!"

    "What?" Connor asks.

    "I think¡­ Xander wants to hang out with us," I tell him. "But is nervous about going to a place as crowded as a laser tag place would be. This is probably his hope at a compromise or something."

    "I suspected that," Mr. Thompson says. "There are a few different potential reasons for it; however, it means that Xander''s at least interested in hanging out with you boys. Make sure to have fun but behave, okay?"

    "Yes, sir!" We salute to him.

    The rest of the ride is mostly Connor and I poking each other and wrestling a little in the back seat until Mr. Thompson tells us to stop. When we arrive, Sam and Isaac and their dads are waiting at their car, talking. After we all join up, I go up to the door and knock on it. Xander opens the door a crack and looks at all of us, then closes it.

    "Huh?" Connor asks. "What was that about?"

    Xander opens the door all the way while muttering something about ''wrong way''. Well, he also swears at himself but I''m not repeating that. I guess he accidentally closed the door?

    "Hello, everyone," he peeks at us a little from behind the door. "Y-you can come in."

    "Hi, Xander!" I greet him as I enter and my friends all greet him as they enter as well.

    Xander''s wearing jeans and a dark green long-sleeved shirt that I haven''t seen him in before, his socks black and new-looking. Tucked against his chest with his left arm is Trenton, his stuffed bear.

    "Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are in the kitchen right now," Xander informs us. "They''re talking while Ms. Katie works on lunch. It''s going to be kebabs. Some have chicken, some have beef, and some have both. Also veggies. Then there''s mac-and-cheese, mashed potatoes, and salad for a side. Lunch is going to be a little while but we can play a game or something."

    "Can I say hi to Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie?" I ask.

    "Yeah," Xander nods. "Come on, everyone."

    Xander leads us to the kitchen, where Mr. Caldwell is peeling potatoes and Ms. Katie is cutting vegetables for the kebabs.

    "Hey, boys," Mr. Caldwell greets us as Xander peeks onto the counter to look at a trio of pies sitting on it.

    Why are the pies sitting on the counter bordering the dining room instead of the further one? There''s more space here for prep work than elsewhere. None of the pies look baked, either.

    "Hi, Mr. Caldwell!" I wave to him. "Thanks for letting us come over!"

    "No problem," Mr. Caldwell says. "Xander doesn''t want to play laser tag but wanted to hang out with you guys so we came up with this. He did say he still wants to go to the laser tag place, though, so we''ll go over with you boys. They haven''t been baked yet, Xander. Katie''s going to put them in the oven after we go outside to start grilling."

    "Oh, right," Xander''s face turns bright red, then he looks at me. "I helped make these."

    "Helped?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "Xander, you did all the measuring, mixing, and you even rolled the crust and put it and the filling in. All Katie''s doing is handling putting them in the oven and taking them out. Be a bit more proud of your work."

    Xander''s face turns even redder but he looks pretty clearly happy, in his minimal-expression sort of way.

    "All I did was follow Ms. Katie''s directions," he mumbles.

    "And you did so very well," Mr. Caldwell tells him. "Why don''t you take them outside? The other boys, I mean."

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods, then looks at us. "C-come on. We''ve got stuff outside."

    Xander leads us outside and gives us a little tour of the back yard. I''ve already seen the small peach orchard but it''s the first time the other boys have seen it. Until now, they were definitely thinking the same thing I did before visiting the first time ¨C that the peach trees in Xander''s pictures were from an orchard near his new home.

    "Um¡­" Xander looks at the pool once we gets back to it. "If you guys want to go s-swimming, you can. S.G., you know where the changing room is. You can show them there if you want. I''m going to go do something and will be back¡­ s-soon. Do you remember where the pool toys are?"

    "I do!" I answer. "Are you going to swim with us?"

    "H-have fun in the p-pool," Xander says. "B-back in a little b-bit."

    Xander hurries into the house and my friends look at me.

    "Uh¡­ I''m not sure what that''s about," I tell them. "But I think Xander wants us to swim a bit. Come on! Let''s go get changed!"

    There must be some reason Xander wants us to go swimming and I want to know, but it''s too much thinking. Since he apparently doesn''t want to hang out immediately, we should just have fun while we wait for him.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    He was probably planning on inviting us over after lunch or something and Mr. Caldwell changed the plans on him. This must be him giving us the opportunity to swim without him while he does whatever he was doing.

    I take Connor, Sam, and Isaac to the indoor swimming pool and its changing room. There''s an easy-access door leading to it in the back yard so we don''t have to go far. My friends are just as amazed as I am about this place, though they''re less confused about Xander''s behavior. They don''t know that Xander''s scared of drowning.

    His behavior really confuses me, but I decide that if it''s important, we''ll be told. We change into our swim trunks and head back outside to play in the pool. There are a lot of toys to choose from and we go with pool torpedoes and inflatable pool balls and the little fabric balls that soak up water and sting when hit by them.

    About five minutes after we start horsing around in the pool with the dads ¨C including Xander''s new one ¨C watching from the deck and chatting, I notice Xander in the pool with us. He''s dressed in his green swim trunks¡­ and is in a dragon floatie. It''s an inflatable black dragon with green markings and golden eyes, and he has a couple of matching floaties on his arms.

    How did he get into the pool without us knowing?

    Xander''s just floating along in the pool, letting our horseplay''s effect on the water drift him around. There''s not even a slight look of terror on his face, which is really confusing after Monday''s swimming lesson. Some nervousness, sure, but not terror.

    "Hey, Xander!" I wave to him.

    That''s how my friends notice Xander''s here and they all look over to him.

    "Hi," Xander waves back, though he''s currently mostly facing away. "Um¡­ I don''t know how to turn around in this thing."

    "You can use your feet," I tell him. "That''s really cool!"

    "Mr. Trey bought it yesterday," Xander starts kicking his feet. "It''s magic and won''t pop unless something really, really, really sharp pokes it. And it''s a dragon, so it''s cool. Dragons are cool, right?"

    "Dragons are very cool!" I agree with him. "You''re swimming with us?"

    "No," Xander says. "I''m floating. Oh. This is how I move."

    Xander finally figures out how to turn himself and control his float and comes over to us. He still looks nervous and anxious, but I''m impressed. There was no scream or anything as he got into the pool, so we didn''t notice it at all.

    "That''s a really cool floatie," Sam says.

    "Mr. Trey bought it for me to use," Xander wiggles a little, something he does whenever he''s trying to brave through his anxiety. "I can''t swim good yet. I was never taught how before this summer so I''m still learning. A-and I''m not that strong, so it takes a lot of effort and energy. But this floatie lets me be in here with you guys."

    Xander pats the floatie a little. There''s no mention of his fear of drowning here so the floatie probably somehow makes it easier for him.

    "Please don''t throw the toys at me, though," Xander adds. "I-I''m not prepared for them. O-or heavy splashing. But I can try and bounce the ball with you guys."

    "Let''s do that!" I say.

    Isaac''s the one closest to the beach ball, so he grabs it and we space out and start bouncing it around. Xander''s a bit clumsy with the ball but it''s still fun to toss it around until he''s done. He goes back to floating around while we play with the other toys.

    At one point, I see Xander talking to Mr. Caldwell, who''s crouched by the edge of the pool. Xander looks anxious and is holding something in his hands, but I can''t make out what. He nods to Mr. Caldwell, who smiles and says something to him, then Xander starts turning around¡­ with whatever he''s holding hidden by the dragon''s head.

    I go back to tossing toys around with my friends and goofing off¡­ then yelp when a blast of ice-cold water hits my back just as I jump up to hit the ball again.

    "W-hey!" I turn around to find Xander holding a clear green water gun with silvery runes on it. "Xander''s got a water gun! Evasive maneuvers!"

    I duck under the water and swim away and when I pop back up, the other boys have all scattered around the large pool and Xander''s looking uncertain. Mr. Caldwell whispers something to Xander, who nods and then shoots a stream of water at Sam.

    That leads to Xander trying to hit us with streams of water and us swimming around to try and avoid the blasts. Xander floats around the pool a bit to try and get better shots at us and it really seems like he''s having fun. I want to splash back at him but remember that he''d mentioned not doing that. It would probably freak him out and make him think of drowning. Thankfully, Connor, Sam, and Isaac seem to remember that as well.

    Trying to avoid Xander''s blasts is pretty fun and it''s while we do this that I realize he''s got a pair of green earplugs in. He''s probably had them in the entire time, I just didn''t notice. They must be to help him if we get loud. I know that there are some types of earplugs that cancel out louder noises but not quieter ones.

    "Alright, boys," Mr. Caldwell eventually calls out. "Lunch is ready!"

    We get out of the pool while Mr. Caldwell helps Xander get out of the pool and out of his floaties, then we all head up to the deck for lunch. Two of the tables are setup for eating, with the dads at one and us boys at the other. There are pitchers of water, tea, and lemonade, along with several two-liters of soda.

    After lunch, we play Rummy for a little while, then Ms. Katie brings out dessert. Peach pie, triple-berry pie, and ice cream! All made by Xander, though he''s insistent on making sure we know all he did was follow Ms. Katie''s directions and she''s the one who dealt with putting things into the oven or ice cream machine and turning those on.

    Even some of the toppings were made by him, though, which is even cooler. He''s adamant in making sure we know he did not make the chocolate syrup.

    "Do you like baking?" Sam asks Xander as we eat dessert.

    "Ms. Katie does the baking," Xander tells him. "I just help her prepare the stuff to bake."

    "That''s part of baking," Mr. Caldwell tells Xander from the adults'' table.

    "Oh," Xander says. "I like eating some of the stuff that''s made by baking. Do you guys want to play another round of Rummy?"

    We play a few more games of Rummy to finish off our desserts and a few more, then we all return to the pool.

    I get to see how Xander enters the pool this time around, which involves first making sure the floaties are securely on him, then closing his eyes and shuffling forward while muttering to himself something about ''magic floatie''. When he reaches the edge of the pool, he takes a deep breath, covers his mouth and pinches his nose with his right hand, and jumps. A small squeak comes out of him before he hits the water, but the floatie keeps him from actually sinking down into it, only his waist and below entering the pool. Then he releases his mouth and nose and takes a deep breath, then turns around so Mr. Caldwell can hand him the water gun.

    "A-again?" Xander asks us.

    "Yeah!" I exclaim. "But we''re a bit more hyper now that we''ve had some extra sugar in us!"

    "T-that''s okay," Xander says as he refills the gun. "Mr. Trey said it''s okay for me to be hyper."

    I''m not sure what that means but I think Xander''s trying to say that he''s a little bit more hyper right now, too.

    We start horsing around again with Xander attempting to shoot us with his water gun. The earplugs are back in and once we''re sure Xander''s not going to freak out too much, we don''t hold back our hyper as much as we were earlier. In addition to Xander shooting us with his water gun, we splash each other as well though I try not to splash Xander since I''m sure that might not be something he''s comfortable with yet. We can still have fun without that so it''s not necessary.

    "Hey!" Sam calls to Mr. Caldwell after a bit. "Can we get water guns, too?"

    "Was wondering how long that would take!" Mr. Caldwell laughs. "They''re in the storage there if you want."

    We hurry out of the pool to get water guns, then jump back in and start blasting each other with them. Xander makes quiet happy noises and bounces a little as we do this and seems to really enjoy it even when we blast him with jets of water ¨C as long as we avoid his face. That seems to make him panic a little so we stop aiming there.

    He''s fine with us shooting the rest of him, though, and more of his body is exposed than ours since he''s in the floatie. That''s more than enough space for us to blast with the icy water. I''m pretty sure the water guns are enchanted to cool the water in them since every blast is icy.

    "Whew," Connor says as we wear out a bit, the four of us floating on our backs while Xander floats in his dragon floatie. "That was fun, Xander. Thanks for inviting us over."

    "Thank you for coming," Xander says, then pauses for a moment. "I had fun, too. Um. When do we need to leave for the tag laser?"

    "Probably around three or so," I tell him. "What time is it?"

    "Um¡­" Xander looks around. "I don''t see a clock. Maybe about one?"

    Is it really only one? It''s felt like longer. We got here around ten-thirty but it feels like it''s been four or five hours, not two and a half.

    "Hey, dads!" I call over to the dads. "What time is it?"

    The dads have moved from the deck to the yard and are sitting near enough to hear us and keep an eye on us but not close enough that we can hear their conversation other than their occasional laughs.

    "Exactly one," Mr. Caldwell responds.

    "We''ll be leaving at about three to head to the arena," Mr. Thompson tells us. "So you boys have plenty of time."

    "One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ five¡­" Xander counts us. "Five boys. Um. If you guys are tired and want to rest before tag laser, want to play a game? Or we can watch a documentary or a movie. Mr. Trey suggested a game yesterday. I''ve never played it before. I don''t really play games."

    "What kind of game is it?"

    "Uh¡­" Xander scrunches up his face in thought. "I-I can''t remember!"

    "Zevatris," Mr. Caldwell calls over. "It''s a puzzle game with some math aspects as well. And you boys don''t need to change back to play it in case you want to go swimming again before you leave, just dry off before heading inside.."

    "Okay!" I stop floating and the others do the same. "Let''s play that, Xander!"

    Mr. Caldwell gets up to help Xander out of the pool and out of his floaties, then we all dry off using towels that I''m pretty sure are magic. They were sitting on a pool chair close to the pool and Xander told us we could use them. The reason I suspect the fluffy green towels are magic is because they dry us far more efficiently than our towels could. I''m fairly certain Xander didn''t have these on Monday.

    Just how much was put into making sure things were ready for the hangout today? Hopefully, it means that Xander wants to invite us over more. Not because it means we''d get to enjoy his new dad''s wealth but because it means he wants to hang out with us more. Maybe I can invite him to hang out at my place later this week!

    "Don''t worry about cleaning up the pool toys," Mr. Caldwell tells us. "You can leave them in case you all come back to swim some more before leaving."

    "Okay!" We respond.

    Well, all of us except for Xander, who just nods.

    Xander leads us all to the theater room, which impresses the others a lot. I''m still impressed by it and it''s not my first time seeing it. There''s something already playing in here, the lights dimmed a little.

    "We can play it in here?" Isaac asks.

    "Yeah," Xander quietly answers as he goes over to one of the seats. "Um. Under the screen, that black curtain is a screen. That''s what Mr. Trey called it. It can be pulled aside in a few spots, and there are cabinets underneath. Do you guys want any snacks? There''s popcorn, nachos, pretzels, ice cream, pudding, jello, and drinks. Soda and water and lemonade. No alcohol. Um. Mr. Trey said I have to use the machines if you guys want anything from them. But I can make up a big batch of popcorn and you can scoop it out. Or get your own cheese by pressing the button. Or pull pretzels from the warmer."

    "You just have to be the one to set them up," Sam responds, keeping his volume low to match Xander''s.

    "Yeah."

    "That''s cool," Sam says. "Mr. Caldwell doesn''t know us too well yet and you know how to use the stuff. It makes sense he''d prefer it be you."

    "There are directions," Xander says.

    "Wasn''t there only one popcorn machine when you showed me this room?" I ask.

    There are two of them now.

    "Huh?" Xander looks at the popcorn machines, then back at me. "O-oh. Y-yeah, there was. It''s so if I don''t want buttery popcorn but someone else does, we can do both and not worry about making sure the order is correct. See? Buttery. Non-Buttery."

    Xander pointed at the machines, which have large labels on them saying what they''re used for. That''s pretty neat.

    "Trenton?" Xander asks just as quietly as we''ve been talking since entering this room. "Is it okay to stop it?"

    "That''s the bear, right?" Isaac whispers to me.

    "Yeah," I whisper back.

    "Thanks," Xander whispers, then picks something up and stops the show before looking at us. "Mr. Trey suggested bringing Trenton down here first, but I didn''t want him to sit in silence. He usually just sleeps on the bed all day but this isn''t the bed so he didn''t want to sleep. He likes sci-fi, though, so I put on something he was interested in. Mr. Trey said it was okay."

    Xander does something on the remote and the lights turn up more. I want to ask Xander about that but it''s probably better not to mention the fact that he put on a TV show for a stuffed animal. Mr. Thompson would probably reprimand me if he found out and say it was rude.

    "What kind of stuff do you guys want to snack on while we''re playing?" Xander puts the remote back down.

    "Do you eat the popcorn plain?" Connor asks.

    "I did yesterday," Xander nods. "But I also like it buttery or with caramel and sprinkles. Ms. Katie says it''s better to do the caramel while the caramel is warm so Mr. Trey put a warmer in here for that."

    "Ooh! Can I try that?" I ask.

    Connor, Sam, and Isaac all want to try that as well, but we all also want buttery popcorn so Xander gets both machines going. He carefully follows the directions on both machines to set those up, then starts working on heating up nacho cheese. There''s both a dispenser for it as well as something to actually warm it up. Xander has to pour the cheese into the dispenser once it''s warmed up, but there''s time before that so he gets pretzels heating up as well.

    "I just remembered something," Xander says after putting the pretzels into the warmer for them. "You guys can use the soda machine. I didn''t remember that one before because I didn''t remember it''s a machine. Sorry."

    "Cool!" I say. "Can we do ice cream floats? Is that allowed? I saw root beer."

    "What are ice cream floats?" Xander scrunches up his face in confusion.

    "Ice cream and root beer!" I answer.

    "Usually," Sam says. "You can do other sodas if you want but it''s usually root beer. And called root beer floats."

    "Oh," Xander thinks about it. "I don''t think it''s against the rules."

    We assemble our snacks and Xander finishes setting up the stuff that he has to do for us, then assembles his own snacks and takes a seat beside Trenton. There''s already a controller with the bear, and we all sit around them.

    "Do you guys want to play first?" Xander asks as he uses the remote and controller to switch the screen over and set up the game. "It''s one-person control."

    "Single-player?" I ask.

    "Yeah, that," Xander says. "We can play in rounds. They shouldn''t take forever, Mr. Trey says."

    "It''s your game," I say. "You can play the first round if you want!"

    "But you''re the guests," Xander says. "Do you want to play first?"

    We insist on Xander playing the first game so he does. He''s just as lost on how to play it as we are, but the game is pretty easy to figure out as we go.

    First, the player generates twenty-one ''villagers''. Then, those villagers go to the next area and the player has to get them across a river. To build a bridge, the player has to figure out which bridge parts are the stable ones. There''s a riddle that we have to solve if we want some clues, but it seems to also be partially trial-and-error.

    Every time a bridge is constructed, one-to-three of the villagers attempt to cross it. If the bridge is stable, the rest of the villagers cross over it. If it''s not, then the bridge breaks and the villagers on it fall.

    "With staves which only shine during day," Xander reads out the riddle. "Walk with that which glows at night alongside the seven which guide your way. Uh¡­"

    Xander thinks about it for about a minute.

    "D-do any of you k-know what that m-means?" Xander asks.

    "Nope!" Connor answers.

    "This game is harder than I thought!" Sam exclaims.

    "How is that a clue?" Isaac asks.

    "I think it is!" I say. "Look at the bridge outline: it has posts at both ends, a path, and walls. I think the first part, the staves, refers to the entrance and exit of the bridge. Since those are vertical. Then ''alongside'' probably means the walls, so the middle part is the path itself. I''m not sure what the rest of the clues mean, though."

    We spend another minute trying to figure it out and Xander starts testing out the different things we suggest. Slowly, all of the villagers end up dead and Xander looks ready to cry.

    "Good first try!" I say. "This game really is a bit more difficult but I''m sure once we figure it out, we''ll be bosses at it! Let''s try again!"

    Xander generates another twenty-one villages and sets them off, and the bridge''s riddle this time is "With stormy pillars to guide you, walk with the eight alongside that which shines during the day". The options we have for parts are different this time as well.

    Though Xander''s more hesitant to try to send the villagers across the bridge, he does after a few suggestions about its formation from us. Soon, his anxiety over losing starts to really show and we eventually end up with only six villagers and a lot of questions from Xander asking how sure we are about our suggestions.

    "Um¡­" Xander stares at the screen. "S-S.G.?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Do you think¡­ the ''eight'' refers to the number of parts?"

    "What do you mean?"

    Xander gets up and walks up to the screen and points at the path portion''s options.

    "Look," he says. "Here. The Xes on this one, they''re in four parts. This one has four in two layers, or eight. This one has eight in one layer. This one has seven in one layer. This one has fourteen small sections of stones. This one has six. This one has twelve, but six are shorter than the other."

    "Oh!" I exclaim. "You''re right! So it''s a clue to how many parts there are to that section."

    "That only narrows it down a little," Connor says. "Eight¡­ there are¡­ only four of them that have it. But how do we know which of the four it is?"

    We continue making guesses and during our third attempt at the game, figure out two important things. First, ''day'', ''night'', ''storm'', and other such things hint at the color of the material. Second, there are probably always four potential things that actually meet that requirement. Third and most importantly: the correct option falls a second after the wrong options do if the bridge isn''t stable.

    With all of that figured out, we manage to beat the first stage in our fourth game, though we only have eight of our villagers left. That''s not enough to handle the next stage, which is choosing the correct paths to go down in a forest. All of the villagers travel down the one we choose, but one-to-three of them are killed as the group flees back if it''s the wrong path.

    That''s also not the minigame we play in our fifth game when we reach the second stage again. This time, we have to pick the right cave to enter. There are seven caves and each one is numbered, and the clue is a math problem. The game''s on the easiest setting so it''s just basic math problems, or simple addition and subtraction.

    However, we quickly learn that there''s more to each cave entrance than just the number on it. Each one also has mushrooms, vines, and rocks at it and those can potentially be the thing that is the right hint. Figuring out the right cave takes us too long and we lose all of our villagers, so we start up another game.

    As we continue to play the game, we manage to figure out the tricks to the first area ¨C the bridge ¨C and the tricks to the next three areas, which are always one of five possibilities. After that is a campfire as a ''rest area'', then another bridge puzzle with a different clue setup and bridge design to figure out. Past that is another set of three puzzles out of five choices, then a campfire, then one final bridge before we finally get to the destination¡­ which is just some fields.

    Upon arriving, the sole surviving villager cheer and do a sort of happy dance, then we''re sent back to the villager generation area.

    "That¡­ was¡­ exhausting!" I exclaim. "And then it just dumps the villagers in an empty field? Are you serious?"

    "And this was the easiest difficulty, too," Sam says. "Jeez! Doing math, playing with colors, testing hypotheses, process of elimination¡­ this game really wanted us to use our brains."

    "Thanks for helping," Xander says. "I don''t think I''d have ever managed to do that on my own."

    "We probably wouldn''t have, either," Isaac tells him. "This game did not have any directions to let us know how to solve the riddles so a lot of it was just process of elimination and guessing and stuff. It would''ve taken ages to figure out."

    "Now that we know how to use the clues," I say. "And what the different stages require, it should be easier to solve. It''ll definitely get easier the more we play. Want to do another game?"

    "Y-yeah," Xander says. "Do you guys?"

    "Yeah!" We answer.

    "You want to try this one on your own?" I ask.

    "I found it more fun to d-do it with you guys," Xander says. "I-if that''s o-okay."

    "Yeah!" Connor says. "But first, I gotta go pee!"

    As we played up until now, we kept refreshing our snacks and drinks and I realize that I''ve definitely had a lot of soda and need to pee, too.

    "If you go out that door," Xander points. "And take a left, the next two doors on the left are bathrooms."

    That''s when we all realize that we''ve had enough to drink that we need to go pee, so we all take turns in the bathroom. When Xander finishes, he gets more snacks ready for us, though I think it''s mostly me and him eating now. The others are eating some as well but I practiced magic a lot yesterday so I''m still recovering my mana and Xander¡­ apparently just eats a lot. I mean, I already knew that, but still. It''s a lot of food.

    "Alright!" I say once we''re all back in our seats. "Ready to play another game?"

 Chapter 024

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Oh, crap!" I exclaim.

    "What?" Everyone looks at me, though Xander''s the only one who doesn''t ask that.

    He just looks a little scared. Me exclaiming that probably startled him.

    "Sorry," I shift my snacks onto Connor, then hop up. "My aunt just texted me. You guys keep playing, I gotta go ask the dads something. Back in a minute!"

    I hurry out of the theater room and out to the back deck, where the four dads are still hanging out. Ms. Katie''s doing something in the kitchen and it smells delicious.

    "Dads!" I say. "It''s past three-thirty! Aunt Rachel just texted and asked if everything was okay since I''d said we''d be there at three-thirty and it was a bit past that. She apparently realized I hadn''t been given any money for food so she went there to drop some off for me so I didn''t have to use the money I''ve saved up. We''re all running late!"

    "We went to tell you boys it was time to get ready to go earlier," Mr. Richardson tells me. "But you were all pretty into the game so we decided to let you guys go. Even if you boys miss the four slot, you can still get in two or three games if you still want to do laser tag today."

    "Trey''s invited us to stay for dinner as well if you guys want to keep hanging out with Xander here," Mr. Thompson informs me. "We can do laser tag another day."

    "If your aunt wants to come over for dinner as well," Mr. Caldwell says. "You can invite her over. We just need to know by around five or so so that Katie can prepare enough food."

    It''s pretty awesome that he''s got his own chef to handle making all the food.

    "Okay," I say. "I''ll go ask the others."

    That''s a bigger relief. I just thought even the dads lost track of time. They do that sometimes. Now that I know it wasn''t just everyone losing track of time but the dads not wanting to interrupt our fun, I hurry back to the theater, where the others are still into the game.

    Isaac''s encouraging Xander to try going with the blue stones for the puzzle he''s on. There are three guardians watching the path and all three have to be appeased for the villagers to pass through. To appease the guardians, a gift has to be made and sent. There are a number of items which can be put into the gift, but each guardian wants a different gift package. Each gift package can have between three and five items in it, and the hint points toward one item for each guardian.

    When the gift is made, it''s sent to the first of the guardians that has yet to be gifted that round. Once all guardians yet to be appeased have been given a gift, one to three villagers attempt to pass through. If they attempt to pass by a guardian that hasn''t been appeased, it kills them and the guardian gives an indicator of how much they like or dislike the gift. If the gift appeased the guardian, the villagers continue past them.

    For this stage, it''s mostly trial and error and guesswork on figuring out what appeases each guardian.

    "Hey, guys," I say once Xander finishes the gift. "It''s¡­ almost four. The dads said they didn''t want to interrupt our fun, but we can still head to the arena after this game is done. Or we can do laser tag another day and stay for dinner, if everyone''s cool with that."

    "S-sorry," Xander says. "I-I didn''t mean to make you l-late for-"

    "It''s cool," I grin at him. "We were having so much fun we lost track of time! We can do laser tag another day! So! Mind us hanging out a bit more for more games?"

    "N-no."

    "Awesome!" I say. "So everyone up for staying for dinner?"

    That''s a unanimous "yes" from everyone, so I take my seat once more. I''m sitting to Xander''s right since Trenton is to is left, while Connor is sitting behind me, Sam to his left, and Isaac to his. As soon as I sit down, Xander hesitates a little.

    "Um," he looks at me, then shifts a little.

    "Did you mean you didn''t want us to stay?" I ask.

    "T-that''s not what I meant," he says. "I-I''m okay with this. B-but, um¡­ did you want to do the controls? I-it''s only been me for hours¡­"

    "We don''t mind!" I tell him.

    "Yeah!" Isaac says. "It''s a team effort so it doesn''t matter who''s controlling and since it''s your game, it''s your honor!"

    "O-oh," Xander looks down at the controller. "O-okay."

    "Did you want to give up the controls for a little bit?" I realize. "Your hands are probably getting tired, yeah? You mentioned you don''t really play games."

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods.

    "Here," I reach over and Xander quickly puts the controller in my hands.

    Then he hops up and goes to the concessions area. It wasn''t just that his hands were tired¡­ he was probably wanting more food. I guess it wasn''t as easy for him to play and eat as it is for us.

    Everyone else already has some snacks but we still wait for Xander to return¡­ which starts to take a little bit. When I look over, Xander''s putting more popcorn in the makers, more pretzels to heat up, and is checking the cheese sauce.

    "Want us to wait for you?" Connor calls over to him.

    "Y-you can play," Xander says.

    "You sure?" Sam asks. "We can wait if you want us to so you can help."

    "Y-you can play," Xander repeats.

    We go back to trying to solve the puzzles while Xander finishes refreshing the snacks and assembling his, then he returns to his seat and starts snacking. He''s quiet as he eats, only offering his thoughts on the solutions if we prompt him. Partway into the next game¡­ I notice that Xander''s fallen asleep.

    "Can I be honest about something?" I ask the others after noticing this.

    "What?" Connor asks.

    "I think it''s actually a good thing Xander fell asleep."

    "That sounds mean," Isaac says.

    "Yeah, I know," I say. "But think about it¡­ doesn''t that mean he feels comfortable and safe with us? And we''re all just in swim trunks and he''s clearly shy about himself, we''re kind of loud and noisy and that seems to trigger him, and he''s not used to this much interaction with others. And he''s just¡­ fallen asleep right here."

    Doesn''t that mean he feels safe and comfortable? That makes me happy and seems to make the others happy as well.

    We go back to playing the game, up until about five. Xander sleeps right through and ends up grabbing his teddy bear at some point but otherwise doesn''t do much. Apart from when he mumbles something about "too many gummies makes stomachs ache", anyway.

    At around five, we finish the game round we''re on and decide to head to the deck since we don''t know when dinner is other than I had to let them know about Aunt Rachel by this point. She decided not to come over so I let Mr. Thompson know already.

    "Xander," I poke him in the arm. "Xander. We''re going back outside. Xander?"

    Xander eyes snap open and he shifts a little, then sighs.

    "Animation struggle," he states in a more clear, strong voice than I''ve ever heard him use. "Ten more minutes and recovery will be enough."

    Then he closes his eyes again and Connor, Sam, Isaac, and I look at each other.

    "What¡­ was that about?" Sam asks.

    "No clue," I say. "I guess he just talks weird when he''s tired. I think that means he wants us to wake him up in about ten minutes. Let''s get the dishes taken care of!"

    We gather up our dirty dishes and head to the kitchen, where Ms. Katie is currently setting different items out on the counter.

    "You can leave those on the table," Ms. Katie tells us. "Thanks for bringing them down."

    "You''re welcome!" I say. "Xander kind of fell asleep while we were playing and he said to wake him up in a few minutes."

    "Did he say that before falling asleep?" Ms. Katie asks. "Or did he fall asleep and then say that after getting woken up?"

    "After getting woken up," I tell her. "He said something about ten more minutes being enough. Also something about ''animation struggle''. I guess he''s having a good dream."

    "He''ll wake up on his own," Ms. Katie tells us. "I''m going to grill burgers for dinner. Do you like them plain or seasoned?"

    "It depends on who''s making them!" I say. "The dads usually season them differently from each other!"

    "We usually like them with a little bit of seasoning," Connor nods.

    "Okay," Ms. Katie says. "What about cheese? Want cheeseburgers or plain? We have different options, so go ahead and say it. I''ll let you know if we don''t have it."

    "I like American!" Sam answers.

    "Cheddar!" Isaac says.

    "Provolone or Swiss," I tell her.

    "Pepper jack," Connor says.

    "We have all of those," Ms. Katie says. "We''ll also be doing onion rings and fries, both straight and curly. Any preferences?"

    We''ll eat all of those so we tell her so, then offer her help. She declines but tells us we can help carry the things outside once it''s ready. Before that, however, she finishes pulling out the stuff she was pulling out, then gets to work.

    First, Ms. Katie washes her hands, then she opens up several packages of ground beef and dumps it into a large glass bowl. She adds seasoning from a few shakers to the meat, then starts mixing the meat with her hands.

    "This is to get the seasonings mixed in," she says. "I''m not sure if this is how your dads do it, but this makes sure the seasoning gets in good."

    "Yeah," Connor says. "They do the same thing when they make the patties. If they''re using the store-bought patties, though, they just shake it on."

    "A good strategy," she says. "Hello, Xander. Did you enjoy your nap?"

    "I''m sorry for falling asleep on you guys!" Xander exclaims as we turn to face him. He looks ready to cry. "I tried to stay awake but then I just¡­ fell asleep! I''m sorry!"

    "It''s cool!" I say. "We all need naps sometimes. Did you have a good dream?"

    "Um," Xander scrunches up his face. "It wasn''t a nightmare? But I don''t remember it. I don''t normally remember my dreams."

    "You talked a little," Sam says. "The only thing I caught was something about too many gummy bears making your stomach hurt."

    "That''s very true," Xander nods. "But I''m not sure why I''d say that. I''m really sorry for falling asleep while we were playing!"

    "It''s cool," Sam says. "Seriously. We fall asleep on each other all the time!"

    "I fell asleep on someone?" Xander looks at me. "Sorry, S.G.!"

    "Not that kind of ''on''," I giggle. "Ms. Katie said we''re doing burgers, fries, and onion rings for dinner."

    "There will also be mac-and-cheese, salad, and fruit," Ms. Katie says. "And I''ve prepared something for dessert as well."

    "Okay," Xander shifts a little and looks at us.

    "Let''s go back outside!" I suggest. "We can play out there until it''s time!"

    We all head back outside and play around in the yard. It''s not until Ms. Katie and the dads bring out the stuff for making dinner that I remember we offered to help with that. Oh, well!

    Xander doesn''t run around with us but we manage to figure out that he''ll play hide-and-seek so we switch to that. He''s also scarily good at hiding so we don''t see him again until we''re called to the deck to eat. Wherever he hid, it was close enough to the deck that he beats us to it.

    "You had a really good hiding spot," I tell Xander once we''re there. "Where''d you hide?"

    "In the pool toys shed."

    "You fit in there?" I ask. "Isn''t it cramped?"

    "Very."

    "Damn," I say. "That''s cool! No wonder we couldn''t find you!"

    Ms. Katie''s putting out dinner so we sit at our table and start serving our sides. Xander helps himself to just the normal fries, and they come in both seasoned and unseasoned. The rest of us grab some of each type of fry and as we do, Mr. Caldwell informs us that the fries are home-cut, not store-bought, so they may taste different than we''re used to.

    "They''re really good!" Isaac tells him, then looks at Ms. Katie. "Thanks, Ms. Katie!"

    For fruit, there''s diced pineapple, watermelon, cantaloupe, and honeydew. Xander only grabs the last two but he helps himself to a lot of it. I help myself to a little of each.

    The burgers, onion rings, fries of all varieties, salad and dressing, and mac-and-cheese all taste awesome. I''ve never had food that tastes this good before, not even at restaurants.

    "Where''d you learn to cook?" I ask Ms. Katie. "This is really good!"

    "Super good!" Connor says, and Isaac and Sam add their agreement to it.

    "A little here and there," Ms. Katie tells us. "Some experimentation on my own as well. Trey hired me awhile back, when he as at a busier time for his company, but I''ve been to a few different states and countries and studied in them. Though I made sure to tailor dinner to what some thirteen-year-old boys would like. No eighty-dollar seasonings in the burger."

    "There are eighty-dollar seasonings?"

    "There are even more expensive ones," Xander whispers to me.

    "Whoa."

    "Yeah."

    We finish eating dinner, then help Ms. Katie take the dishes inside. After that, us boys play cards for a little bit before taking showers to wash off sweat before going back to play in the pool for a bit before all of us except Xander leave.

    Just as with before, Xander uses his dragon floaties and we shoot each other with water guns. After everything we''ve already done today, we''re a bit too exhausted to stay in the pool for more than thirty minutes. After that, we get out and eat dessert, which is strawberry cake with real strawberries in it and a mix of lemon and strawberry icing, and we''re given a choice of ice creams to eat with it though I go with the mint chocolate chip, chocolate chip, strawberry, and vanilla because I can get four scoops.

    When it''s time for us to leave, we take proper showers and get dressed, though Xander doesn''t shower with us. I think he''s too nervous to do that with all four of us here instead of just me since it involves changing and he''s really shy about that. He does rejoin us after, though.

    "Thanks for inviting us over!" Isaac tells Xander as we''re heading to the door. Xander''s back in a dark green long-sleeve, blue jeans, and black socks and he''s hugging Trenton against his chest. "Was that the same pie from Tuesday? The berry one?"

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "No," Xander answers. "That pie was all eaten up on Tuesday. The triple-berry pie tonight was the same recipe but a different pie. Might have been made a little bit different. I don''t think I measured exactly the same."

    "It was really good," Isaac tells him.

    "It was!" I agree. "If you want to bowl with us on Tuesday, let us know before then, okay?"

    "Um¡­ okay," Xander says.

    "Thanks for inviting us over," Sam says. "It wasn''t laser tag but it was still fun!"

    "Y-you''re welcome," Xander mumbles as he looks down at Trenton, his face and ears red.

    "It was fun hanging out with you," Connor tells him. "By the way, next Tuesday, we''re doing a barbecue at my place. You and Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Katie are all invited if you guys want to come and don''t have other plans."

    "O-okay," Xander says. "Y-you guys have a good night."

    "Night, Xander!" I tell him.

    We say our goodbyes, then leave.

    "How was Xander?" Mr. Thompson once we''re on the way to my house. "When you boys were alone, I mean."

    "A lot more relaxed than I thought," I admit. "I thought he was just going to watch us swim or something since he''s really shy about his body. But he changed into his trunks and joined us and without a shirt, too! That was a major surprise! And then he stayed that way when we went to the theater, and even fell asleep! I really want to know how Xander went from really uncomfortable to comfortable like that. I mean, it''s a good thing, right? But still! It''s weird! Not in a bad way! It just makes me wonder what happened!"

    "Well," Mr. Thompson says. "If something has happened since Wednesday to make Xander more relaxed and comfortable, then that''s a good thing. We''ll see on Tuesday if he''s just having a good day today or if something''s really changed. You''ve still got time before bed. Got any plans once you get home?"

    "Video games!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts toward the end of Sig''s PoV.

    Once I close the door after the boys have left, I let out a massive sigh of relief. This was extremely stressful and it was really hard to not show it. I started slipping up after my accidental nap.

    It wasn''t that I was lying about being calm, it''s that I was trying to keep myself calm. Mr. Trey told me to try to focus on the good things to do that and it worked. Though I did feel bad they didn''t get to play laser tag today.

    "You did good, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me and I look over to see him give me a small nod. "I''m surprised you didn''t put a shirt on when you went in to play games in the theater."

    "N-none of them did," I tell him. "And I-I didn''t want to s-stand out. I tried the t-thing you told me. T-the happy thoughts thing. It kind of worked. But then w-we got focused on the g-game and I s-sort of f-forgot."

    The game required too much thinking for me to be nervous once we really got into playing it and trying to solve the different stages. I was a lot of nervous when I wasn''t too focused on the game, though. Some of the happy thoughts I tried to focus on to calm myself down were that the other boys didn''t comment about how skinny I am or seem disgusted by my looks, but also that they were including me in having fun and helping me with the puzzles in the game as if I was one of their group.

    That really helped me.

    "Well," Mr. Trey says. "I''m glad you were brave today, Xander. Did you have fun?"

    "I-I did," Xander nods. "And they were all really nice. They even invited me to hang out again even though I''m stupid and worthless and weak and not fun to hang around."

    "If you weren''t fun to hang around," Mr. Trey says. "They wouldn''t have invited you to hang out with them again, would they?"

    "I-I guess not."

    "Do you want to get your reward tonight?" He asks.

    I can''t tell if this is a trick question or not. Either I answer honestly and he gets mad that I want to get it when it''s so late in the day or I lie and say I''m fine with waiting but then get beaten for lying. It''s better to be honest and not get beaten for lying so I decide to go with that.

    "Y-yes, please."

    "Alright," he says. "Why don''t you find your shoes and get them on? Are you taking Trenton with us?"

    "N-no," I answer. "He''s tired and wants to sleep."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Go put him to bed."

    I nod, then head upstairs and put Trenton on the bed in the room I''m using, then I go to the closet and open it to look at my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door. After staring at myself for a few moments, I pull up my shirt and look at my ribs. They aren''t as visible as they were before Mr. Trey took me here.

    That''s not something I know because of my own observations and memory. Whenever I get examined, they always take pictures of me because of how skinny I am and they weigh me, too. Mr. Trey says it''s to monitor my growth and is acting as potential evidence if needed.

    Evidence for what, I''m not sure, but it makes me scared that they want to arrest me for something. Mr. Trey told me not to worry about it, but that''s only making me worry more. I shouldn''t focus on that right now, though, because it''s making me upset.

    This morning, Mr. Trey gave me those pictures and told me to compare myself to them.

    In the pictures, my ribs are very clearly visible and can be counted with ease. Now, however, they aren''t that visible. They''re still visible, just not as visible a before. I also have a scale now to measure my weight.

    At my last checkup, I was only 63lbs, which is really bad for a twelve-year-old boy, even one who''s a little on the short side. Unless the scale is broken, I now weigh about 75lbs. I gained a whole 12lbs since my checkup around a month ago.

    I drop my shirt back down.

    Even knowing I''m not as ugly as I was, I was still really scared that S.G. and his friends would be disgusted by my looks in just swim trunks. S.G. never said anything when we changed and did swimming in the classes but he could have been more bold with his friends. Not with their dads and Mr. Trey around, but definitely when we were in the theater without adult supervision.

    But they didn''t. That makes me feel good. A little happy, too. I was able to hang out with other boys like a normal boy today. Not only that, but they invited me to hang out again!

    I''m still scared they might betray my trust and hate me, but a part of me can''t help but hope that they''re being real.

    I close the closet door and locate the shoes, then put them on and tie their laces. Mr. Trey is waiting for me by the front door so once I''m ready to leave, I join him and we go to his car. Once we''re both buckled up, Mr. Trey pulls out of his property.

    "Do you want to do the clothes first or the stuffed animals?"

    There''s got to be a right answer but I''m not sure which it is. It''s clearly not the third part of my reward since that wasn''t listed.

    "S-stuffed animals?" I try to answer with the cheaper one.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "We''ll do that first, then."

    Mr. Trey takes me to a store and then to the section with stuffed animals. There''s a huge variety of them here, and in all sorts of sizes, too.

    "Remember," Mr. Trey says. "You can pick out up to four of them that you want."

    "F-four?" I ask. "I-I thought it was three? D-did I mess up? I''m sorry, Mr. Trey! Please forgive me!"

    "That''s what I''d said yesterday," Mr. Trey tells me. "But I''d also said one for each boy. We didn''t know Isaac would be here then, which is why I said three. Since Isaac was here, that makes four."

    "O-oh."

    "Don''t worry about the price on them, either," Mr. Trey says. "This is part of a reward for a big thing for you, Xander. You braved hanging out with other boys just for fun and even went swimming in trunks and didn''t freak out at all."

    "I was freaking out on the inside, though," I say.

    "Maybe a little," Mr. Trey says. "But you managed to keep yourself calm enough to not freak out on the outside, right? You did very good at that, Xander. And nothing bad happened, right?"

    "R-right," I nod. "T-they were all really nice to me."

    Mr. Trey suggested I try this since I wanted to hang out with them but didn''t want to go to laser tag because there would be a lot of people there. Even though I really didn''t want to go swimming with them and was scared they''d call me a freak because I can''t swim good, I agreed to it.

    As we were talking yesterday, he kept telling me that this would be a good way to see how they really felt about me. Then he promised to buy me clothes and three stuffed animals ¨C I guess four, now ¨C if I tried it and tried my best not to panic and freak out on them.

    He was right. I really did have a lot of fun and the other boys were nice to me. The dragon floatie really helped me with the pool portion, too. I was still scared of drowning and getting into the pool, but the floatie was recommended by the dork with a guarantee it would keep me afloat and it did. Using it made me nervous that the other boys would make fun of me but they didn''t.

    Then when Mr. Trey suggested I shoot them with the water gun and see how long it takes them to ask if they could use one¡­ I felt both scared and curious. It even made me want to giggle.

    What really surprised me was falling asleep in the theater. I was scared to do that even though I was tired and I didn''t want to be rude by asking them to leave so I could nap. The next thing I knew, I was waking up alone in the theater.

    At first I thought they were gone, but then I went to the dining room and found them talking with Ms. Katie. That made me really happy for some reason.

    "You had a lot of fun, right?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Y-yeah."

    "Would you like to do that again?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Are you glad you followed my suggestion?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Good," he smiles. "Now pick out four stuffed animals."

    "O-okay."

    This part of the day makes me nervous but Mr. Trey is encouraging me to do this. I don''t want to make him mad by picking out expensive ones but at the same time, he''s telling me to pick whichever ones I want.

    I look through the different stuffed animals here and pick out one wolf stuffed animal, but get two of them. They''re normal wolves, not the special ones that Luke got me versions of. The next one I pick out is a black dragon stuffed animal. The fourth and final one takes me awhile to pick out. There are several that I want, but the one I really want is probably too much. It''s a green dragon that''s as tall as I am and positioned in a sitting pose. Sitting between its legs would probably be very comfortable. "You keep looking at that one," Mr. Trey comments. "Is that the one you want for the fourth one?"

    "Y-yeah," I answer. "B-but it''s two h-hundred dollars."

    "You did a very big thing today," Mr. Trey tells me. "You challenged yourself to go far outside of your boundaries and did your best to stay brave through it even when you were most scared. It was an immense leap of faith and a very big deal. Don''t worry about how much it costs, Xander. If that''s what you want for the fourth one, then that''s what you''re getting."

    "O-okay."

    The dragon is too big for me to carry so Mr. Trey picks it up and puts it into the cart, then we go to the register so he can pay. After that, the stuffed animals are put into the back seat of the car and Mr. Trey drives me to another store. This one is a clothing store and it makes me nervous.

    "Remember," Mr. Trey tells me. "You can get up to five hundred dollars'' worth of clothes. Pick out any you want."

    That''s a lot of money and he already spent a lot on stuff for me at the toy shop. It''s the same amount he promised me yesterday.

    I''m still not sure why he offered me so much for trying to brave my way through a very scary situation but I don''t want him to get mad at me for trying to reduce how much I get. This situation makes me scared, too, but I''m also really tired and don''t have the energy to try and figure out how to get out of it safely.

    At first, I only look at the clothes a little as I try to figure out which ones I might want that I''m sure won''t make Mr. Trey mad at me. Then I realize they all have nice textures. All of them. They''re a little bit more expensive than the clothes I normally wear or which Mr. Trey bought for me to use, but they all feel nice. Every single one I rub.

    I like this place.

    Before I really realize it, I have a bunch of different clothes picked out, including new socks and underwear, a new pair of shoes, and several new pairs of pants and shirts. As much as I want to stay with shirts that have longer sleeves, I do pick out two shirts that have shorter sleeves. Maybe I can wear them when hanging out with S.G. and his friends at someone''s house. But not outside. Wearing those might make them more willing to be friendly with me than wearing a long-sleeved shirt would.

    I really liked hanging out with them.

    "I need to go to the restroom," Mr. Trey tells me while I''m looking at the clothes I''ve picked out and trying to do the math on the prices. "Are you okay with waiting for me here?"

    This is where he reveals he''s just tricking me and is abandoning me, isn''t it? Then the employees are going to accuse me of shoplifting and have me arrested and put in juvie and no one will believe me. But I can''t tell Mr. Trey that or he''ll beat me for accusing him of lying.

    "I-I''ll wait here," I tell him.

    "Okay," he says, then leaves.

    Not even thirty seconds after Mr. Trey leaves, a police officer walks up to me. Here it is. Just as I suspected!

    "Hello," the officer says. "My name''s Jessica. What''s yours?"

    "Is there a reason you''re talking to him as soon as I walked away?"

    I jump and look at Mr. Trey, who''s standing only a few feet to our side, arms folded over his chest and looking very angry. Oh, no! What did I do? I wasn''t shoplifting, I swear!

    "If you have questions," Mr. Trey says. "You need to do it properly. The fact that you waited until after I walked away to approach indicates you were waiting for such an opportunity. I will be filing a complaint with your supervisors."

    "Y-"

    "No," Mr. Trey interrupts. "I''m not done yet. I know exactly why an officer was called and I know exactly why you were trying to see if you could get him alone. Did it ever occur to you or those workers that he may just be an anxious kid? And that there may be a legitimate reason for me to be spending a lot of money on him?

    "Xander is my foster son," Mr. Trey tells her. "He moved into my home from the Blue Wing Boys'' Home on the second of this month. The reason he''s fidgety isn''t because of me but because he''s not used to having a lot of money spent on him. Xander, could you please put in your ear plugs? The red ones."

    He must not want me to hear what he''s saying next. I pull out the small plastic case with ear plugs in it and open it up, then remove the red ones and put those into my ears. Mr. Trey says something to me but the red ones block out all sound so I can''t hear him. That seems to satisfy him, then he starts talking to the officer.

    Whatever they''re discussing, it seems to only make Mr. Trey agitated and that scares me more. He''s going to take his agitation out on me, isn''t he? After the officer lets us go¡­ but she''s probably going to arrest us and claim I was trying to steal because Mr. Trey seems to be making her mad. Another officer shows up, this one male, and he starts arguing with Mr. Trey as well.

    Then Mr. Trey takes a deep breath, says something, crosses his arms over his chest, and stares at the officers. For a very long time. His gaze is intimidating and it''s not even on me. They both talk but he doesn''t respond to them. That''s going to get him into a lot of trouble and then they''re going to get mad at me and beat me for it!

    Ms. Johnson, Mr. Evanson, and a man I''ve never seen before and who''s wearing a suit all arrive. Mr. Evanson and the suit-wearing man join Mr. Trey while Ms. Johnson beckons for me to come over with her. I''m not sure what to do but Mr. Trey gestures for me to go with Ms. Johnson when I look at him so I do.

    She takes me to another part of the store and gestures for me to sit on one of the chairs here so I do, then she sits in the seat on the other side of the one to my left. I can''t see what Mr. Trey, Mr. Evanson, the suit-wearing man, and the officers are doing and I don''t remove my earplugs in case they''re loud. This has me really scared, though. Is Mr. Trey sending me back to the home?

    About fifteen minutes pass before Mr. Trey, Mr. Evanson, and the suit-wearing man join us. I can''t see the officers, but Mr. Trey has the cart of clothes in it, and they''re all bagged up in the store''s bags. When they reach us, Mr. Trey gestures for me to remove the earplugs.

    "Sorry about that, Xander," Mr. Trey says as I put them back into their case. "I wanted to say some things I knew would bring back some bad memories for you. How are you feeling?"

    "S-scared."

    "Sorry," Mr. Trey says. "You''re not in trouble, I promise. The workers thought I was doing something really bad to you and was buying you clothes as a ''payment'' for it. They called the police and the officers were¡­ not listening very well."

    "I wasn''t stealing, I promise!"

    "I know," Mr. Trey says. "They were thinking it was me doing illegal things, Xander. You''re okay. You''re not in trouble. Though I was surprised to see you two here, Tiffany."

    Mr. Trey looks at Ms. Johnson when he says that.

    "One of the other boys'' birthday is tomorrow," she says. "He''s taken to jogging and likes the MountainStorm Gear brand so we stopped here to pick up a present for him while doing some other shopping for the party. It seems the universe wanted to put us in this place at the right time to help you out. Was everything taken care of?"

    "Under threat of legal action," the suit-wearing man I don''t know says. "It''s fortunate they knew you two already, that helped Trey''s case. If stuff like this happens again, do you have an issue with us using you as a resource? I have a feeling it might occur again."

    "Until Xander is legally adopted," Ms. Johnson says. "He''s still one of my boys. We can act in an official capacity and vouch as needed. Even once he''s adopted, if things get that far, we will still do so for awhile."

    "Thank you," the man says.

    "You have earplugs now?" Ms. Johnson asks me.

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "Mr. Trey and I were shopping yesterday and I saw them and they were expensive."

    I mixed up my words and didn''t say everything I was meaning to say and now I need to figure out how to fix this. Why am I so stupid?

    "Xander wanted to buy them," Mr. Trey tells her. "But didn''t bring enough money with him. It was stressing him out because he didn''t want to ask to come back to the store after going home yesterday. I asked him what was wrong and he said he wanted to get those but didn''t have enough money on him as he''d only brought what was left from his allowance. They''re a set of magic earplugs and cost a decent amount. The red ones block out all sound, the green ones block out loud ones, and the blue ones block out any that isn''t the human voice. He thought they might be a good idea for swimming or when out shopping if things get loud. I told him he didn''t need to pay for them¡­ he still tried repaying me once we got home. I think that''s what he was trying to say."

    That''s a lot better than I managed to say. It was mostly for swimming for today, which is why I didn''t think he''d be okay with paying for them. The thunder headphones wouldn''t work too well with water. I don''t like things in my ears and they make me uncomfortable, but Mr. Trey still suggested I bring them with me when we go out to do stuff, just in case.

    I''m glad I was able to take them out after only around fifteen minutes. After having the green ones in my ears a lot today, they really annoy me. It''s bad for me to be annoyed so I hope Mr. Trey isn''t upset with me.

    "Y-yeah."

    "That''s nice," Ms. Johnson says. "Do you like them?"

    "No."

    "No?"

    "Also yes."

    "He doesn''t like having them in his ears," Mr. Trey explain. "But he was willing to give them a try."

    "Y-yeah."

    "I see," she says. "Well, I''m glad you''re settling in well, Xander. You''re getting to get more clothes today?"

    "It''s a reward," I tell her. "I tried being brave."

    "You were very brave," Mr. Trey tells me. "Do you remember the boys from the bowling alley, Tiffany?"

    "That hyper group of them?" She asks. "Yeah."

    "Xander went swimming with them today," Mr. Trey tells her. "I''d promised him I''d buy him some new clothes and toys if he braved hanging out and swimming with them. He used a floatie and didn''t wear a water shirt."

    "It feels weird," I whisper to Ms. Johnson. "The water shirt, I mean. I was really scared, but the other boys were really nice and friendly."

    "That''s good to hear," she says. "It sounds like you had a lot of fun."

    "I did," I tell her. "They even stopped shooting me in the face without me asking and didn''t stop playing."

    "Shooting you in the face?" She frowns.

    Oh, no! What did I do wrong?

    "Water guns," Mr. Trey explains. "They were playing with water guns in the pool."

    "Oh," she says. "They seemed like good kids when I saw them at the bowling alley. We need to finish our shopping, Xander. I hope you have a good night."

    "Bye," I tell her, then wave to Mr. Evanson.

    Ms. Johnson and Mr. Evanson leave and I sneak a look at the suit-wearing stranger.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "This is Johnathon, one of my lawyers. He''s the one helping me with the stuff relating to your adoption and foster care, so I asked him to come over as soon as I noticed what was going on in case we needed a lawyer to get involved."

    Lawyers are extremely scary.

    "Hello, Xander," Mr. Johnathon says. "It''s nice to meet you."

    "H-hi."

    "You two have a good night," Mr. Johnathon says. "Let me know if anything else comes up."

    "Will do," Mr. Trey tells him. "See you."

    "B-bye."

    The lawyer leaves, then Mr. Trey takes me out of the store. He bought the clothes while I was sitting with Ms. Johnson, so we''re able to just go. I still get nervous on the way out but no one stops us and accuses me of shoplifting, which is a huge relief.

    Hopefully, nothing else happens tonight. All that''s left as far as I know is to pick up a red-white-and-blue cheesecake from the Wolf''s Dragon, then go back to Mr. Trey''s place and get ready for bed.

    "Sorry for scaring you," Mr. Trey tells me. "We can go get your cheesecake now if you want, but if there''s something you want as an apology for getting you more scared, just let me know."

    "I-I don''t know how to make up for being scared!"

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ good, good. I wasn''t saying you need to apologize for being scared. I was saying I want to make it up to you for scaring you in the store. Is there something you''d like for that?"

    "Y¡­you want to give me something to say sorry for scaring me?" I ask. "B-but why?"

    "Because I don''t like scaring you," he says. "And it was clear you got scared from me. I''m really sorry for that, Xander, and I do want to make it up to you. You don''t like hugs so I want to see if there''s something else I can do."

    "O-oh," I try to think of something that won''t make him mad. "C-can I get two cheesecakes?"

    "You can get two!" He laughs. "They might not have a second red-white-and-blue one, though, so you might have to get a different flavor. Is that okay?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Alright," he says. "Then we''ll ask them what they have when we get there. And Xander?"

    "Y-yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "If you want to eat some before bed, you can."

 Chapter 025

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    After staring at my reflection in the toilet bathroom mirror for a few minutes, I leave the bathroom and locate my backpack from the boys'' home. I grab the hair scissors that are in it and take them to the toilet bathroom, then grab a change of clothes and bring them to the bathing bathroom, putting those on a shelf in here. After making sure the towel in here is a fresh one, I go to the toilet bathroom and pull the scissors out of their sleeve.

    Snip. Snip. Snip.

    Small locks of hair fall around me as I start cutting my hair. It''s not a full cut, just a trim back to an appropriate length. My hair was starting to get too long and I don''t want to get into trouble. I know I''m not good at this but I can at least do it well enough that I won''t get into trouble and no one comments about the bad job I do. With me cutting it myself, I don''t have to bother a proper hair cutter to do the job and they won''t be disgusted by having to do it. Or by me flinching around because I really don''t like being touched, especially from behind.

    I do my best on the job and once I finish, I pull off my shirt and pants and shake out the hair, then do the same with my socks before sweeping up all of the clippings. Those are dumped into the toilet bathroom''s trash, then I put the scissors back into their sheath and put those away and put my dirty clothes into the hamper for them.

    Hopping from one foot to the other, I try to focus myself, then quickly finish getting undressed and hurry to the bathing bathroom so I can shower off the rest of the hair pieces. There''s no one else around to see me but it still feels uncomfortable.

    As I scrub my hair, a lot of brown water comes off. Was I really that dirty? I could''ve sworn I showered after playing with the other boys yesterday. Though considering it''s me, I probably just think I did.

    Once I''m scrubbed clean again (weirdly, the brown water only happened when washing my hair), I make sure to towel off as thoroughly but quickly as possible and hurry to get dressed. Much better. Now all I have to do is-

    "No!" I cry out when I see my reflection in the mirror in here. There''s an anti-fog magic on it so it''s already clear. "No, no, no, no, no! How! Why! Bu-it-no-I-"

    I can''t get my thoughts out, my brain becoming all scrambled. This is bad. This is very, very, very, very, bad. I''m going to get into so much trouble and I don''t even know why it happened!

    "Xander!" A loud voice comes through the bathing bathroom door. "Deep breaths! Xander, take deep breaths! In¡­ out¡­ Xander, breaths! In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ Good, good¡­ can you open the door? Get dressed if you still need to."

    I''m still panicking a little but at least I can think clearly again. Since I''m already dressed, I open up the bathing room door. Delaying this will only make things worse, I''m sure.

    "What happ-" Mr. Trey cuts off when he sees me. "You washed out your dye? I take it you were trying to go without but don''t like it now that you''ve done it?"

    "I-I didn''t mean to!" I tell him. "I just cut my hair and was washing the clippings out and thought the brown water was ''cause I was extra dirty for some reason and hadn''t showered after hanging out with S.G. and the other boys yesterday but then after I got dried and dressed I saw my hair was free of its dye and I don''t know why and I''m really sorry and I''ll put it back in and-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says and I stop. "Thank you. You''re not in trouble, Xander. That''s the same shampoo you normally use, right?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "It''s supposed to help make sure the dye doesn''t wash out but maybe it got swapped or something? I¡­ would ask the dork if he did that but he''d probably say something weird again. I''m really sorry, Mr. Trey! I know it''s bad to stand out and that''s why I dye it and I''ll dye it back up and-"

    "What would ''the dork'' say?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Um¡­" I try to think. "He says that the reason my roots start showing is because the hair dye can''t stick to me that well because I''m too¡­ awesome or powerful or something like that. It changes a lot. But it''s really just ''cause my hair grows out. And he says that I don''t need dye at all ''cause my hair would be whatever color I want it to be, but that''s obviously a lie because that''s a weird magic and I don''t know it. So he''d probably say something like it washed out ''cause I don''t want my hair dyed, but I do ''cause I don''t want to stand out! Plus, I looked it up and that sort of thing doesn''t happen, so it''s definitely him mixing up his dreams with reality again! I''m really sorry, Mr. Trey! I only have the touch-up kits right now though so I''ll need to buy more of the dye itself! Please forgive me!"

    "Can you look me in the eyes?" Mr. Trey asks. "You''re not in trouble for the dye washing out. Whether you dye your hair or not, I don''t have an issue with it. If you wanted to dye your hair green, I''d let you as long as you paid for it with your allowance."

    "I don''t want to dye my hair green," I tell him. "I don''t want to stand out, either! ''Cause standing out is bad and gets me in trouble!"

    "I take it that when you say ''standing out''," Mr. Trey says. "You''re referring to how blond your hair is?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod.

    "If it''s because of what your previous foster home did," Mr. Trey says. "Remember that they were in the wrong about a lot of things, Xander. Luke stands out all the time for worse reasons than his hair being as eye-drawing blond as it is. Do you know what he would say to your old family if they tried to treat him like that because of his hair?"

    "Probably a lot of things," I answer. "He talks a lot. A lot. I''m sorry! That''s really mean to say!"

    "Luke knows he talks a lot," Mr. Trey tells me. "He tries to work on it. If you tell him he''s talking too much for you, he''ll most likely stop and apologize. As for what he''d say to them¡­ he''d likely ask them why it matters that his natural hair color is so bright. It doesn''t, Xander."

    "But-"

    "Let me ask you something," Mr. Trey says. "Xander, do you like hiding your hair color?"

    "I like not getting beaten for standing out."

    "That''s not what I asked, Xander."

    I should have known that wasn''t going to work. Stupid fucking worthless piece of shit.

    "I don''t like dyeing my hair."

    "Then don''t."

    "But-"

    "If your reason for dyeing your hair is because other people don''t like your natural hair color," Mr. Trey says. "Then there''s no real good reason to do so. Okay?"

    I''m still not so sure about that but Mr. Trey is more smart than me.

    "O-okay."

    "Now," Mr. Trey says. "You cut your own hair?"

    "I-I''m sorry! I should have asked permission first! They let me do it at the home and I didn''t think about it or I would''ve-"

    "You''re not in trouble," Mr. Trey says. "Are you the one who normally cuts your hair when it''s time to trim it again?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Look me in the eyes," Mr. Trey says. "Thanks. You do a good job at it. It looks good, like a professional did it. With your problems gripping things, that actually makes it impressive. Why don''t you finish your stuff, then come down when you''re ready for breakfast, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    Mr. Trey leaves, then I pick up the used towel and put it in the hamper. I then go to the toilet bathroom and look in the mirror. Maybe¡­ maybe I''ll not dye it again for a few days, just to see what Luke and S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac say. If they make fun of me or something for it, though, I''m definitely going to dye it back as soon as Mr. Trey lets me.

    When I spot the note on the mirror, I remember that there''s other stuff I''m supposed to do.

    "I''m stupid, I''m ugly, and I''m worthless," I tell my reflection. "But I''m not as ugly as before¡­ I think. Look," I lift up my shirt and poke my ribs. "They aren''t as visible anymore. So I''m putting on weight and getting healthier. That''s good, right? Though I don''t have abs yet so probably not really that healthier. But it''s still a good thing about me."

    At least, I think it''s a good thing. I drop my shirt back down and look at my reflection again.

    "I was very brave yesterday," I tell my reflection. "I think that counts as a good thing about myself. I''m normally very scared, right? So being very brave is a good thing. Um¡­ what''s a third good thing about myself?"

    The updated note says to try and come up with different things each time, though I kind of ignored that for the bad things. There are too many of those. I really want to try for the good things but I can''t think of anything else that''s different from yesterday''s. Though I can also only remember one of yesterday''s¡­

    "I can help make baked goods that other people like," I nod. "S.G., Connor, Sam, and Isaac liked the pies I helped make yesterday. There. That''s three."

    I return to the bedroom and climb up onto the bed and pick up Trenton and hug him until it''s time to go down for breakfast. When I arrive, Ms. Katie is putting food on the table and Mr. Trey is reading something on his tablet.

    "Mr. Trey?" I ask.

    "Yes?" He looks at me.

    "W-why were you in the room?"

    "When you were panicking?" He asks and I nod. "I wasn''t. I was still in my room when you started ¨C you were loud enough the wolf monitor was picking it up."

    "O-oh," I say. "Sorry."

    "It''s okay," Mr. Trey says. "Why don''t you have a seat? Breakfast is ready."

    I sit down and examine today''s breakfast. It''s sausage patties between two halves of a biscuit (Mr. Trey''s has egg on it as well), hash brown patties, and a syrup-glazed fruit mix with chopped nuts. Mr. Trey also gets bacon with his breakfast, and I think he even has slices of it on his breakfast sandwich. I''m served four hash brown patties and four of the breakfast sandwiches at first, but ask for more once I''m done with those because I''m still hungry.

    Though it still makes me scared to ask for more food when I''m still hungry, Mr. Trey keeps encouraging me to eat until I''m full at most meals we have together. I haven''t gotten into trouble for eating a lot yet so I don''t think I will. There''s always the chance that he''s still trying to earn my trust before beating me, though.

    Once my stomach says it can''t eat anymore, I stop and thank Ms. Katie for breakfast, then excuse myself so I can get ready for classes. Trenton is coming with me today, so I retrieve him from the bedroom when I grab the school backpack after waiting and brushing my teeth. Back downstairs, I go to the kitchen to put in today''s snacks into the bag. Ms. Katie already has them on the table by the time I reach the dining room again so I can do that easily.

    Mr. Massey isn''t here yet so I go into the classroom and move a purple beanbag chair to the right of the one I normally sit on and set Trenton on it, then put the school backpack on the ground between it and the green beanbag chair I normally use and sit down. I''m in here really early today so I pull out my homework and review to see if I can remember things.

    Luke and Parker arrive after about a few minutes and as soon as they enter, Luke starts staring at me. He hates me being blond, too! No! I should have asked Mr. Trey if it was possible if we could get more of the dye so I could make my hair look brown again!

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú Starts during Xander''s PoV

    "-which didn''t make any sense," I tell Parker as Mom pulls onto the street. "I thought I''d cleaned up all of the magical static¡­ which is a weird thing to say, if I''m being honest. I didn''t even know that was possible but it apparently is. When I tried looking it up, all I found were theories on magical static existing. No actual articles based on fact."

    "You didn''t sleep last night, did you?" Parker asks before sipping coffee.

    "Being addicted to coffee probably isn''t healthy for you since you''re still growing," I tell him. "And I did and yes, I made sure to drain my mana before leaving the house. This isn''t my normal babbling. It''s just¡­ this is a really confusing thing. How is magical static even a thing but no one knew about it?"

    "I contacted the Lumaria Group about it," Mom tells me. "Adrian himself called me back and wanted to know what you were doing when you encountered it."

    "It''s news to Adrian King, too?"

    "No," she answers. "According to Adrian, only two people on Earth have ever actually encountered magical static before: himself and the teleporter who keeps popping into our facilities. Adrian called it ''mystic miasma'' rather than ''magical static''. He also said it''s nothing to worry about and it should dissipate on its own."

    "It''s nothing to worry about?" I ask.

    "His exact words were," she says. "And I quote ''the only time mystic miasma is a concern is when it reaches an extremely high concentration, which isn''t possible on Earth unless someone deliberately concentrates it down. I''m also fully capable of sensing such a high concentration anywhere on Earth''. According to his estimates, the mystic miasma you came across while working on that project last night should have dissipated by now."

    "Did he say what happens if it becomes too concentrated?" Parker asks.

    "Yes," Mom answers. "And he clarified that there are also only two people on Earth capable of actually concentrating it that much so there''s little concern in telling me. It seems that if mystic miasma become too concentrated, it effectively becomes a magical nuke about one hundred times the power of the one the US used in testing during World War II."

    We didn''t make a magical nuke, it was a mundane one. The US and Canada wanted to make sure that if someone tried to draw us into the war, we''d be able to put a stop to it pretty fast without needing to rely on Adrian King. Another country happened upon the testing on an uninhabited island and¡­ well, the war ended within a month out of fear that we were planning to get involved.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "How often do you talk with Adrian King?" Parker asks Mom.

    "Not very often," Mom answers. "While he oversees his various companies, it''s others who do most of the communications between his companies and others. The same goes for how we run our company, though Adrian is a lot more mysterious. For him to contact someone directly is rare. It does seem he''s interested in what happened to cause you to encounter the mystic miasma. That''s something for another time. We''re almost there."

    "Okay," I say.

    "Don''t discuss the mystic miasma or Adrian King with Xander," Mom tells me. "He''s so far above Trey that it would only freak Xander out to know that I''ve interacted with him."

    "Okay," I say. "Parker! Do you think Xander will like the cookies I made? He seems to like sweets."

    "You made cookies?"

    "Last night," I nod. "It''s another swimming day and I''m not sure how he''s going to be after what happened on the first one, so I wanted to make him something he''d like in the hopes it helps him be calmer."

    Since I wasn''t here for his swimming lesson last week, I''m not really sure how things will go. It''s possible that me forcing him into the water like I did two weeks ago has him not wanting to be anywhere near a pool with me around.

    "Based on the last time you baked something," Parker says. "It''s probably a disaster and Xander will think you were trying to poison him."

    "What? Hey! It wasn''t that bad! And I''ve practiced more since then and can actually bake stuff now!"

    Parker just giggles and I realize he was only joking so I poke him in the side.

    When Mom pulls in front of Trey''s house, Trey''s waiting outside for us for some reason. Mom gets out of the car to see what''s up as Parker and I get out.

    "Melody," Trey says. "I remember you mentioning that there''s a ten-year-old who sometimes teleports into one of your facilities and takes power cores?"

    "Yes," she answers. "Has he done something to your company?"

    "No," Trey tells her. "I wanted to ask you something about him. Luke, Parker, Xander''s already in the classroom."

    "Go on," Mom tells me. "I''ll see you later, Luke."

    "Bye, Mom!" I tell her, then Parker and I go inside and enter the classroom¡­

    Where there is a giant green dragon sitting against one wall. Holy cow that thing is huge. It''s nearly as tall as I am and I can totally see Xander sitting underneath it. He''s not right now as he''s on his favorite beanbag with a purple one beside it but I''m sure he''s done it at least once. That thing is huge! And looks super cuddly!

    "Whoa!" I exclaim and rush over to it and try to sit under it. "Hey! It really can be sat under! Parker, look!"

    Parker sighs.

    "Luke," he says. "You probably should have asked first."

    "Oh!" I pull out from under the dragon. "Sorry, Xander! Wait! You washed out the dye!"

    Xander''s hair is its natural platinum-blond now, so it matches his eyebrows. In my personal opinion, he looks way better with his natural hair color than the brunette he was attempting to pass as before. Not that he looked bad before, this just suits him more!

    "I-I didn''t mean to," Xander looks down at his lap. "It happened while I was taking a shower. It just¡­ all washed out."

    "Well, I think you look great with it like this!" I tell him. "I mean, you looked pretty cool with it brown, too, but this suits you! By the way, have you heard of mystic miasma before?"

    "Luke," Parker groans. "What did your mom tell you, like, two minutes ago?"

    "It''s super scary stuff," Xander answers before I can respond. "I don''t like how it feels when it''s nearby and it usually takes a few hours to dissipate."

    "Wait," I say. "You know about it? I was going to tell you about the theories on it that are on the net, though they call it magical static."

    "Um¡­" Xander shifts a little. "I know someone who knows how to make it happen. He says he tries to avoid it when he can because the temptation to turn it into a bomb is too strong and he wants to avoid the notice of Adrian King."

    I have no idea how to respond to that. If it came from someone else, then I''d suspect them of lying. This is Xander, though. I might have only known him for two weeks but I''m very well aware that he hates lying because he''s worried about getting into trouble. He either really does know someone who knows how to make mystic miasma or he believes he does. If he does, then that means he knows the teleporter?

    How did they meet?

    Putting that aside, Xander''s acting a little bit different than he has before. There''s something¡­ different about him today. Very different, but I can''t put my finger on it.

    "Did you have a good weekend?" I decide to change topics because this is probably safer than trying to figure out how to respond to his answer.

    "I had fun," Xander looks anxious. "Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie played a game with me on Friday evening, and Mr. Trey took me shopping on Saturday and for lunch. Yesterday was a really scary day, though. But it was also fun."

    I¡­ think Xander thinks he had to tell me about his weekend when I asked if he had a good one and that''s why he''s telling me so much.

    "It was scary but fun?" I ask. "How? You don''t have to answer if you don''t want to."

    "I invited S.G. and his friends over to hang out yesterday," Xander tells me. "I was supposed to ask on Saturday about coming over yesterday but forgot but Mr. Trey didn''t punish me for being bad. We did a lot of hanging out and even played a game together. A video game. We also did stuff in the pool, but I wasn''t swimming. I was on a floater. They missed their laser tag stuff but said it was okay."

    Xander went swimming with people and it wasn''t for a class? I''m curious about that because I really don''t think he''s over his fear of drowning. It does sound like he enjoyed it, and his face even looks more¡­ happy, I want to say? I''m not sure but it''s definitely not his normal or scared face.

    While I''m happy Xander had fun yesterday ¨C he really needs it ¨C it bothers me that he didn''t invite me to hang out. Going swimming and playing video games is a lot different from watching a documentary and a lot more fun.

    "You were swimming with others?" I ask as I take my seat and Parker sits beside me in his.

    "It was scary," Xander nods. "Very scary. Hello, Mr. Massey."

    "Sorry for running late," Mr. Massey says as he walks to his desk. "There was a car accident in front of me and it delayed my arrival a little."

    Class begins and goes as has become the norm for Xander''s classes, starting with a quiz and then a small refresher before the first lesson. When it comes time for our brief break, I show Xander the cookies that I made.

    "They''re butter cookies," I tell him. "I asked Dad to help me make them."

    "Okay," Xander starts pulling out snacks from his backpack.

    Chips, crackers, cookies, milk, pretzels, fruit, and baby carrots. I pull out the snacks and donuts I brought and Parker pulls out his snacks. We share them as Mr. Massey begins the next part of the lesson.

    I doodle a bit during the class and when it''s over, Xander puts his stuff up in his room and we head to the pool to change out for the swimming lesson.

    "Hi, Coach Evan!" I greet the coach as Parker and I leave the changing room, just as Xander is arriving.

    "Hello, Luke," he says. "Please do not repeat what happened last time."

    "Yes, sir!" I answer.

    A problem with that promise comes up not even minutes later, after Xander has exited the changing rooms. Rather than wearing his trunks today, he''s wearing his trunks over his full-body swimming suit.

    I guess I really do make him uncomfortable¡­ except that what he just asked me has me confused on that, too.

    "What?" I ask Xander.

    "Please?" He asks.

    "But¡­ you want me to hold you and cover your mouth and nose and jump into the pool?"

    "Yes."

    "Why?"

    "Because I don''t have the floatie."

    "Huh?"

    "The magic floatie," Xander says. "It makes me feel too safe. I can''t overcome the fear if I rely on it. So I need to try and get through it. But running and screaming terrifies me too much and I''m scared I''ll drown if I''m not being held."

    Xander is definitely voicing things better now¡­ something else had to have happened over the weekend other than just him hanging out with people (and not inviting me).

    "But you''re okay with me holding you and preventing you from getting free and breathing?"

    "No," Xander answers.

    "I''m confused."

    "But it''s better than trying to courage myself into it. I used up most of my brave yesterday and it needs to recharge."

    I''m not going to pretend to understand that but I know what Xander''s asking me to do so I agree to it. We go to the deep end of the pool and Xander closes his eyes, then I walk him forward before wrapping one arm around him to hold his arms down and the other is used to cover his mouth. I walk him forward a little bit more, then tell him to inhale deeply. Once he''s done that, I pinch his nose and force us off the edge and into the water.

    Just as he did last time I was here for this, Xander struggles against me and I can really feel his strength magic working against me. It''s stronger than last time and I enhance my own strength a little just to be safe. Once Xander''s calmed down, I release him.

    "You okay?" I ask.

    "My panic is all wore out."

    I''ll take that as a ''yes''.

    "Thank you, Luke," Xander adds.

    "You''re welcome."

    "I''ll let you rest a few minutes," Coach Evan tells Xander as Xander starts to float on his back. "Then we''ll start today''s lesson."

    "Okay," Xander says. "Thank you."

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Bye, Luke," I say. "Bye, Parker."

    "Have a good day," Parker tells me.

    "Bye," Luke says.

    They leave and once I''m sure they''re gone, I go to the kitchen, where Ms. Katie is cleaning up from lunch.

    "Ms. Katie?"

    "Yes, Xander?" Ms. Katie looks at me.

    "Mr. Trey isn''t here so I can''t ask him right," I say. "But¡­ did I upset Luke? He seemed really upset and he told me ''no''. I thought he wanted to hang out and I know he mentioned to Parker while we were in the pool that he doesn''t know what he''s doing for the rest of the day."

    "I''m sure Luke wants to hang out with you," Ms. Katie tells me. "But he''s not the type who likes to sit in one place and just watch something. If he''s watching a movie, I''m sure he''s also playing video games at the same time."

    "But it''s the only way to get him to be quiet for a long time," I tell her. "I-I''m sorry! I shouldn''t have said that! It''s really mean and-"

    "It''s okay, Xander," Ms. Katie says. "Do you remember what it is his parents do when he''s running in the house and being too hyper for them to stop by calling out to him?"

    "Um¡­ no?" I answer. "W-was I supposed to? I''m sorry!"

    "They shoot lightning at his face," she tells me.

    "T-t-they do what?" I ask. "They hurt him? And it''s not reported? B-"

    "He''s not hurt by it."

    "It''s lightning!"

    "Luke isn''t harmed by lightning," she tells me. "He''s immune to all forms of shock and plasma and the impact itself is¡­ well, I won''t pretend to understand it. Luke himself has said this and he says it doesn''t hurt. He''s also able to ignore it if he wants."

    "I-I''m sorry," I look at my socks. "I-I don''t really understand h-how that g-goes with w-what I said."

    "Luke won''t mind if you ask him to be quieter," Ms. Katie says. "As long as it''s not said rudely. If you said something like ''Luke, could you please be a little bit quieter'', he''ll be fine. Parker likes to pinch his ear or slug him in the back of the head to tell him to be quiet so he''d probably actually be happy if you politely asked. He knows he''s noisy and that it might bother other people."

    I''m not so sure he''d be happy that someone as worthless and pathetic as me asked him to be quieter or calm down.

    "Want to make cookies?" Ms. Katie asks. "I was thinking of doing stained-glass cookies. They''re usually made around Christmas time for the holiday but can be made for any time of the year. If you were planning on watching a documentary, we can make them after if you''re interested. Or we can make them before and you can have some while you watch. Trey''s already said it''s okay."

    Those cookies sound scary but maybe if we get it over with now, I won''t have to watch the documentary all scared. It''s always been safe to ask when I''m unsure here even if I''m scared it''s not safe. I hope it''s safe this time.

    "W-why is there stained glass in the cookies?" I ask.

    "There''s not," Ms. Katie tells me. "It''s just what we call them. Stained glass cookies are cookies with rock candy in their center. It makes people think of stained glass so they get called that."

    "O-oh, okay," I feel stupid so I try to think about what I want to do instead of focusing on that. Mr. Trey says that should help me. "Before the documentary, please."

    "Wash your hands and get your apron on, then," she tells me. "Want me to take pictures on your phone?"

    "Yes, please," I pull out the phone and hand it to her.

    I pull on the dark green apron they bought for me to use, then wash my hands. Ms. Katie pulls on her baking apron and washes her hands, then starts pulling out ingredients and dishes. Instead of pulling out one dish per ingredient and stage, she pulls out two. That''s something she''s done a few times and it means we''re making separate batches.

    Ms. Katie teaches me how to make these cookies as she makes her own batch, using that to show me how to prepare them. I do my best to follow each direction as closely as I can, though I get a little bit confused after the dough is mixed.

    "You can ask," Ms. Katie says.

    "Why are we rolling them up?"

    "We''re rolling them into logs," she tells me. "Divide it in half like I did, then roll each half into a log about the same size as I''m doing."

    "B-but that''s not how you make cookies, is it?" I ask. "S-sorry for questioning you."

    "It''s how some types of cookies are made," she tells me. "It''s how we did the sugar cookies."

    I''ve done this before?

    "I-I''m sorry for forgetting!"

    "It''s okay, Xander," Ms. Katie tells me. "Everyone forgets things."

    But I forget things more.

    Ms. Katie shows me how to roll them up and wrap them, then we put them into a special fridge box that has magics on it to make them chill faster. The dough apparently needs to be cold for the next step.

    There are a lot more dishes out than we needed to make the dough and that confuses me.

    "While we wait on those," Ms. Katie says. "Let''s make another type of cookie: strawberry shortcake."

    These ones are a little bit fun to make. Once the dough is ready, we make balls of it and press them into circles, then put a cream cheese filling into the centers and put another circle of dough on top and pinch the edges together, then lightly roll them into balls. I mess up the first few but Ms. Katie tells me that it''s okay if they aren''t perfect.

    Once they''re ready, we put them in the oven, then Ms. Katie pulls out the chilling dough and start cutting slices of it off. Those then have their centers cut out before being set onto trays lined with parchment paper. Crushed rock candy that Ms. Katie made while I was in the classes today are put into the centers. They''re different colors and flavors.

    Those are put into the special fridge box to chill again, then the strawberry shortcake cookies are pulled out of the oven. If I were doing this on my own, I definitely wouldn''t have been done with the stuff for that part of the stained glass cookies before the oven beeped.

    While we wait for the stained glass cookies to chill some more and the strawberry shortcake ones to bake, Ms. Katie teaches me how to make blueberry cookies, which are lemon-flavored but with blueberries in them. The stained glass cookies are ready for the oven when the blueberry ones are, so they''re all put in at the same time.

    "Why don''t you try a strawberry one?" Ms. Katie asks me once the others are in the oven. "They should be cool enough by now."

    I look at the trays of the cooling cookies and find one of the ones I messed up, then take a bite of it. It''s really good. I like this cookie.

    Ms. Katie lets me try the other cookies once they''re finished, though the blueberry-lemon ones also get a cream cheese icing drizzle before they cool. Those are also delicious and while the stained glass ones taste okay, I don''t like them as much as the other two.

    "I can''t see through them that good," I tell Ms. Katie after trying to look through the candy window.

    "Real stained glass is like that as well," she tells me as she finishes putting the cookies onto two glass platters ¨C one for the cookies she measured and mixed and one for the cookies I measured and mixed. "In some cases, it''s even completely opaque."

    "Oh."

    "Why don''t you take some cookies and go do whatever is it you want to do," Ms. Katie tells me. "I''ll clean up here."

    "A-are you sure?"

    "Go ahead," she says. "Trey said it''s okay to eat the food we bake together for fun, right?"

    "It was supposed to be for fun?"

    "It''s supposed to thunder soon as well," she tells me. "The theater room has some extra soundproofing on it to help keep it from disturbing people outside of it, as long as the doors are closed. That also affects inside as well so you won''t be able to hear the thunder. If you don''t want to do something in there, remember that there are headphones all over the house for you to use, but I wouldn''t recommend going outside."

    "O-okay," I look at the platters of cookies. "I''ll watch a documentary, then. Mr. Trey said it''s okay. May I please have a plate to put some of the cookies on?"

    "Sure," Ms. Katie says. "Take as much as you want."

    I want the whole tray of cookies that I made both because I''m really hungry and craving sweets and because I don''t want anyone else to eat them in case I screwed them up really bad. Ms. Katie transfers them all onto a plastic platter without me saying anything so I guess she figured it out without me saying anything.

    "I-is it really okay?" I ask.

    "It is," she tells me. "And if Trey has an issue with it, I''ll be the one he talks to about it, not you. And he did let you eat an entire cheesecake right before bed last night, don''t forget."

    "O-oh, right," I say. "It was very good. T-thank you, Ms. Katie."

    "You''re welcome," she says. "Why don''t you go do your thing now, Xander? If Trey''s not home when it''s over, you can tell me what you learned if you want. Just make sure it''s on something you''re interested in, okay?"

    "O-okay," I say. "Thank you, Ms. Katie."

    I make my way to the theater room as I try to decide what I want to watch. There are a few different documentaries that caught my attention when I was browsing them on Saturday. One is on grizzly bears, one is on a magic flying bear, and the last one is on turtles. I was hoping there''s one on phoenixes but there isn''t one. When I looked it up on online after asking Mr. Trey if it was okay, I found out that there''s a lot of debate on if they''re even real or not.

    I guess I hallucinated petting one. That makes sense. Why would a creature like that even let me near it, much less pet it? It''s way too powerful and majestic a thing.

    Making a decision on this is hard though. Maybe preparing the other snacks for it will give my stupid brain more time to decide. Though that also means I might prepare too much or too little since the documentaries are different lengths.

    I-I need help!

 Chapter 026

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    Xander''s interested in watching documentaries and Parker''s hanging out with his friends, so I''m at home playing video games. I''m hoping Xander wasn''t too upset by me declining his offer to watch a documentary with him two days in a row. While I like that he''s at least trying to hang out with me, I discovered last week that I''m not so good at just sitting there and watching something and doing nothing else and that''s what Xander wants.

    The fact that he''s trying to do it as a way to excuse himself from other sorts of hangouts with me does bother me a little, too¡­ he knows I want to hang out with him but he doesn''t want to hang out with me. Xander''s just too nice to flat-out say it. I can take a hint, I just wish more people than just Parker would hang out with me as a friend. Even with Parker, there are complications since he has his other friends and they don''t want to hang out with me.

    The fact that he doesn''t really say anything when they start going at me makes me wonder about what he really thinks of me, too. Friends are supposed to stand up for each other when one''s getting bullied.

    My phone rings, drawing me out of my thoughts. I pause my game to check and find a surprise: it''s Tyler, from my vacation a week ago. While we''ve maintained a small amount of contact since I returned home, it''s only a small amount and I knew it wasn''t going to last very long. That''s how it always is.

    "What''s up, Tyler?" I ask when I answer.

    "Hey, Luke!" He responds. "You mentioned you live in the Dragon Falls area, right?"

    "Yeah, why?" I ask.

    "My dad and I are in the area," he tells me. "We were dropping off some monster stuff we hunted over the weekend and I''ve got the afternoon free. Was wondering if you wanted to hang out, maybe show me some cool places?"

    "I mean, the coolest place in town is wherever I am," I tell him. "But I do know a couple of neat places. Do you feel like fighting artificial monsters? I want to see how good you are and show off how good I am."

    "Heck yeah!"

    "It''s actually outside of town and closer to the city," I tell him. "So it takes some time to get to, but there''s a place called the Whitemane Simulation Center. Last I checked, they can simulate one hundred and fourteen monsters and variants. A pretty big one, though it''s nothing on the Lumaria Hunter Training Facility. They can manage over one thousand types of monsters and variants. I guess that''s one of the benefits of being owned by the company owned by Adrian King. Imagine the kinds of research they''ve done over the years."

    "I can only dream of the day that I could meet Adrian King," Tyler says. "Have you ever met him? Your family''s one of the big ones, right?"

    "Second-biggest magitech power company, first if excluding Lumaria Energy," I say. "But no, I''ve never met him. My parents have talked to him over the phone but I''m not sure if they''ve actually talked to him face-to-face."

    "That''s still pretty cool," he says. "And yeah! We can go there! Wait. Lemme ask my dad. Hey, Dad! Luke said we can hang and he''s asking about a place called the Whitemane Simulation Center. He says it''s-oh, you know it? Awww. Luke, Dad says we don''t quite have enough for me to do some simulations there. It''s apparently pretty pricey and while we''re well-off, we''re not that well-off and recently had some big recent expenses on top of our vacation. Any other places you know where we can show off our stuff?"

    "A few," I answer. "But I can take a guest with me when I go to WSC, no extra charge. They offer us that since we give them a discount on some of the stuff they buy from us. My family''s company is where they get their energy from."

    "Oh, cool!" He exclaims. "Dad, Luke says that I won''t have to pay. No, he''s not paying for me. He apparently gets to take a guest with him for free. Yeah! I can do that! Luke! Where should we meet?"

    "There''s frozen custard place that caters to mages," I tell him. "It''s called Nikki''s Frozen Custard and Pies. Well, they do pie, too. We can stock up on snacks for the ride over, if you don''t mind. Also, should we go separately, your dad take us, my driver, or what?"

    "Dad," Tyler says. "Luke wants to know if you want to take me or if I can ride with him and his driver? He wants to meet at Nikki''s Frozen Custard and Pies. Cool! Luke! Dad says that he can drop me off at the pie place, then I can go with you and your driver, I just need to be back by eight."

    "Alright," I say. "See you in about fifteen, Tyler!"

    "See you, Luke!"

    We end the call and I send Dad a text to let him know I''m meeting up with Tyler and heading to the simulation center, then one to Xavier to let him know to get the car ready. I need to change into combat-safe clothes, like the ones I wore to the rescue efforts. I also need to grab a backpack with a change of clothes, in case I need a shower after showing off.

    By the time I''m out front, Xavier is waiting with the car and I climb in.

    I''m absolutely bursting with excitement at getting to hang out with Tyler again and more than once, Xavier asks me to stop bouncing in my seat. It''s hard, though. This is the first time in pretty much ever that someone other than Parker wanted to hang out with me of their own initiative. It''s also the first time someone I''ve met on vacation wanted to meet up in-person after the vacation ends.

    Tyler wasn''t put off by my babble-mouth nature! And he''s a pretty nice guy, too. I liked hanging out with him a lot during the vacation.

    When we arrive at the shop, Tyler''s hanging out in front of it, leaning against the low wall that surrounds the outside seating area. I expected him to be here first since the best place for dropping off the remains of strong monsters is near here.

    The tables are all empty ¨C it''s fairly hot outside ¨C but he''s apparently decided to stand and wait. All of the planters are blooming with life, the various grasses and flowers in them looking healthy and happy despite the heat. As a place that caters to mages, they can afford the water magics necessary to keep their plants happy even in the heat without putting stress on the normal water supply.

    Just as the plants are looking good, so is Tyler. His brown hair is as floppy as it was on the break, his blue eyes vibrant and focused on whatever he''s looking at on his phone. He''s wearing a pair of black shorts and a purple sleeveless shirt that fits him a little snugly. Black-and-purple sneakers clad his feet, one of which is on the ground and the other of which is pressed against the wall, his knee bent enough that is foot is up by his butt.

    His free hand is tucked into the pocket of his shorts, though it looks like he''s tapping his leg through them. Black-and-purple earbuds are in his ears, so he''s probably listening to music. Slung over his right shoulder is a black backpack with purple markings on it, and there are a few pins designed after monsters on the right strap.

    As soon as Xavier has parked, I unbuckle and get out of the car. Tyler looks up almost immediately, his face breaking out in a grin as he taps on his phone and slips it into his pocket.

    "Hey, Luke!" He offers a fist to me as he pulls one of his earbuds out. "How''s it going?"

    "Not bad," I bump his fist. "Let''s get some snacks for the trip!"

    We head into the shop, where the air is much cooler, and browse the choices available. Xavier prepared a cooler for us, so we don''t have to worry about things melting and can get extra stuff. All of the food here is made using magic plants, animals, and monsters, so the food all has magic in it. That''s actually good for a mage as we process it more easily than normal food, so it bolsters our magic recovery more. It doesn''t reduce how much we need to eat, it simply increases our recovery rate from what we eat.

    Loaded up with food, we get into the back of the car, then eat and talk for the drive. It takes around fifty minutes to arrive, so there''s plenty of time.

    "Personally, I prefer just simple wind magic when taking down a stormhound," Tyler says. "Like, I know why others prefer other magics, but I can make blades of air around my fists and feet and bolt forward pretty fast using more wind magics. That lets me keep up with storm hounds and makes it dangerous to block my attacks. Or to get struck by them. Storm hounds are strong, yeah, but blades are pretty effective if they get close."

    "For close-range," I say. "Yeah, I''d say wind or lightning magic is best if going with just elemental magic. I usually do long-range spells. For a storm hound, you want something that pierces, regardless of element. With how strong I am, I can usually just overpower their defenses with lightning blasts but if I have to hold back for some reason, I''ll go with air magics, too. I learned how to do spears last year and while it wasn''t against a stormhound, I did actually use it in combat.

    "Dad and I go on a father-son camping trip toward the end of summer break every year and this bear attacked us," I start telling him the story. "It was insanely good with wind magics, too. Kpet summoning these mini-tornadoes. Anyway, while there was a lake nearby, we were in a forest and I wanted to avoid risking causing a forest fire. So I used the air spears in combat and figured out a way to make a cage using them. The bear wasn''t too impressed with them, and I was shooting off the spears with enough force to bypass the winds it was summoning."

    "Galeburst grizzlies!" Tyler bounces. "I fought one of those this weekend! It''s the first time I managed to take one down on my own! It''s one of the things Dad and I came here to sell!"

    We continue talking about some of our magic fights until we arrive at the center, a sprawling complex of buildings with plenty of greenery. Xavier parks and lets me know that he''ll wait here for us, then Tyler and I get out and head to the main building.

    "Hello, boys," the receptionist we approach greets us. "How can I help you two today?"

    "Hello!" I present my ID. "My name is Lucas Gates! My dad''s already put a reservation on a multi-person simulation hall for two hours. Should already be paid for."

    Dad texted me during the drive to let me know about the reservation. There have been incidents in the past where a receptionist didn''t accept that a thirteen-year-old was authorized to reserve or rent a room, nor that he could just bill it to the family account. This makes it smoother for Tyler and me, too.

    "Let me check that real quick," the receptionist scans my ID, then hands it back. "Yep. I see the reservation here, Mr. Gates. The hall is already waiting for you in Building 7, SimulHall 3. Your time will start once you''re in there. Will you need an assistant to lead you there?"

    "No, thank you," I smile as I accept the pair of bracelets she''s held out. "I''ve been here enough times to know the way. Put this on, Tyler. Either wrist works. They''re our passes. Thanks, ma''am!"

    We fix on the bracelet passes, then I lead Tyler to the appropriate hall. It''s a square room two hundred feet in width and seventy in height. Light grey tiles cover the floor, while darker grey panels make up the walls and ceiling. Though there''s no visible source of light within the simulation hall, it''s well-lit thanks to light magics.

    Attached to the front of the hall is a waiting/watching room that''s a more normal height, which has glass windows stretching from floor to ceiling along the wall where it joins with the simulation hall. Tables, chairs, and benches are set up in here, and some of the windows double as TV screens that display stats. Right now, there''s nothing on them other than a transparent version of the center''s logo, a unicorn.

    The center focus of the crest is a mythical horse-like creature with white, gold, or silver coats and manes, with a matching straight spiral horn. Some people claim they''re real, but no one''s ever actually seen one before so they''re mythical. Nobody can really agree on their powers, either.

    Dad says that if they do exist, they''re likely among the most powerful creatures on Earth. On par with the rumored might of the also-mythical dragons. I know people claim those are real, but all confirmed sightings turn out to just be wyverns.

    "I haven''t been a center this fancy," Tyler comments as he observes the logo. "Jeez. They even have a mythic in their crest. How much does renting a multi-room cost?"

    "Ten grand per hour," I answer. "An extra thousand per person."

    That''s for the specific difficulty allowance set up for us, and my family doesn''t throw that much money around for this sort of thing too often. We usually rent a cheaper room, but Dad made sure to get us the best the facility has so I can show off more of my skills.

    "How does this one work?" He taps on the screen and the logo disappears, replaced by a menu. "Whoa. How do we select what we want to simulate?"

    "There''s a room above us where it''s all controlled from," I inform him. "You can view the choices on there and can send the initial requests in as well. While we''re in the room, we can just call out what we want. The staff up there will change the simulation as necessary."

    Having a live staff monitoring things also helps to ensure that the simulations don''t get out of hand and are canceled if there''s a problem.

    "Cool," he says. "I''m not good at fighting aerial stuff as most don''t get in close. Let''s see¡­ ooh! This should be a fun one for a warm-up!"

    "What is it?" I ask.

    "Jackalopes!"

    "Oh, those are fun!" I exclaim. "Want to tag-team or go separately at first?"

    "Let''s do separately!" He says. "Hm¡­ oh! This place even lets you set a difficulty level based on your magic power level?"

    There''s no real universally-agreed-upon way to measuring one''s power level. The most-accepted one here in the West is the one that Adrian King uses, which is based on mana capacity. It''s something like take the natural capacity levels of everyone, strip out the outliers, then look at the most common amounts. Average that and divide by ten.

    That puts "average" at 10 Lumaria Mana Levels, or LML, though the generally-accepted range under the LML scale is 8-12.

    Even with this, it''s not really a good assessment of a person''s strength as their control over their mana also affects things, as does any innate talents that can make some magics easier for them. Two people with 10 LML might be vastly outmatched just because one is better at putting more mana into their spells.

    There''s a lot more which factors into it, but the LML is the scale this facility uses for its difficulty levels. They also don''t have the simulations be that strong ¨C rather, it''s the level at which the average mage with that level can be challenged at but still handle.

    "Yeah," I answer. "If you need it tested, we can ask them if we can pause our timer so you can get tested. They have a device for testing a person''s LML."

    "Nah, I know mine," he says. "It''s 517 on the LML scale."

    That''s really decent. Significantly higher than a normal mage''s, that''s for sure. It''s still lower than mine by a large amount, but I wasn''t wrong about him being strong. For a monster hunter who comes from a long, old line of monster hunters, though, 517 is probably pretty decent but not exceptional.

    "Let''s set it to 100 for a warm-up," he says, then gives me a grin. "Unless you''re weaker, of course."

    "As if!" I scoff. "I''ll crush your 517 with ease!"

    "Oh, really?" His grin widens. "How powerful are you?"

    "Er," I shift a little bit, now uncomfortable.

    Parker''s also the only person significantly weaker than me who didn''t either call me a liar, try to buddy-buddy with me, get scared of me, or put me on a pedestal. Even then, I can''t help but wonder if maybe he thinks I''m arrogant or something just because I''m this strong.

    "I don''t¡­ share that much," I feel my face heating up. "It''s¡­ you know what it''s like when normal people find out that you''re really strong? Put that with people not liking me because of how much I talk. So it''s hard for me to admit my strength. Sorry. I''ve been made fun of a lot and now it''s just-I don''t-if-I don''t-sometimes-"

    "It''s okay," Tyler looks really disappointed. "I understand, Luke. I know what you mean. Yeah, it''s fine. Um¡­ let''s go kick jackalope butt!"

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Normally, someone looking disappointed at me not sharing something with them doesn''t affect me too much. For some reason, Tyler''s disappointment ¨C but also acceptance ¨C makes me squirm a little, now regretting saying that and not telling him.

    "It was 31,716 at the last reading!" I blurt out.

    Tyler stares at me slack-jawed. For several seconds. Here it comes.

    He turns back to the screen and quickly taps on some things.

    "W-what are you doing?"

    "I wanna see you fight some zombies!"

    Zombies are an extremely rare monster to encounter, but they''re also difficult for most to tackle without the use of holy magic. Learning holy magic is also extremely difficult, so there aren''t many mages who can do it. Almost all who do come from old, powerful families because holy magic also takes a decent amount of mana to wield.

    Tyler''s own power level is a little bit above the range as those who come from those families, so he could learn it if he wants to. He might even know it already. I don''t know it, but I could probably learn it if I wanted to.

    For those who don''t use holy magic¡­ either consuming mana-recovery products or having an absurdly high amount of magical energy on their own is necessary. So too is the need for wielding potent magics that can blast through the bodies of the undead, destroying their vessels and overloading their own flow of magic.

    Like lightning magic.

    "Aw! It won''t let me set it for higher than 3,000!"

    Maniac.

    "They don''t have the materials to make the building too much stronger than that," I explain. "Or to simulate things stronger. The ten grand is so we can go up to their maximum. It uses a ton of resources. Besides, you never want to challenge something at your power level. You end up using too much mana."

    Shouldn''t he know this? He''s a monster hunter. Setting to a person''s own level often means needing to use at least half or more of their mana to win.

    "I just thought it''d be funny," he giggles. "Let''s do a three-K zombie horde for you!"

    Tyler gets that set up, then I enter the simulation room as I try not to giggle back at him. It was just him being a dork.

    As I enter the room, forms made up of pale blue light appear all around me. Hundreds of humanoid figures that quickly take on the appearance of beings of bones and rotting flesh. Some humanoid, wearing ragged, torn, and bloody clothes, some more bestial, such as dogs and cats and bears. Soaring through the sky are simulated zombie birds. If their flesh is destroyed, a zombie turns into a skeletal monster, and the unholy magics flowing through their bones makes those extra-resilient.

    On the walls of the room is a two-minute timer, a countdown to when the simulated monsters will attack if I haven''t already. That gives me some time to analyze the situation. It''s not my first time fighting simulated zombies ¨C I''ve played around with it on my own and with Parker a few times just for fun ¨C but I''ve never set the simulation level this high.

    At this level of power¡­ the horde will have some degree of intelligence. Coordinated attacks caused by a leader. Well, if they''re simulating it the same way they do when I come here on my own and set it to 1,000. There''s usually a lich that''s leading the undead horde, but hidden somewhere in the group. Once the lich is taken out, the zombies will lose that intelligence ¨C but they''ll still be pretty strong.

    It wouldn''t be an issue for me to go straight to using a sixth of my total power ¨C the facility can actually handle up to around 5,400 strength of magic assaulting it. That would wipe out the horde entirely, but I don''t want to get scolded by the staff for going too extreme again. Plus, it wouldn''t be fun, and it wouldn''t really get to show off my skills for Tyler.

    And as I mentioned, it''s generally not a good idea to use up a huge portion of one''s power. It''s not like I''m at half-strength, either, since I did have to drain myself before heading over to Xander''s. In fact, I''m technically weaker than the horde at the moment since I''m still low on mana even with the magic food I ate on the way here. That won''t be a problem for me, though.

    Individually, the zombies aren''t all that strong compared to my current strength.

    Lightning magic flows through my body as I slip my hands into my pockets. A faint, electric glow begins to emit from every part of me as sparks begin to dance across my body and clothes. Bending my knees a little, I jump up into the air and once I''m floating about thirty feet up, I start scanning the horde.

    There.

    Near the back-left corner is a humanoid-looking figure wearing a cloak. The lich.

    I pull my right hand out of my pocket and aim my palm at the lich, which looks in my direction at the moment Eyes of pale green flames stare back at me as four spears of lightning begin to form around me, aimed straight at the monster.

    Hastily, the simulated lich erects a barrier of bluish-white light, though the first two spears of lightning pierce through it while the third and fourth punch through the lich''s body, blasting it to pieces. As each spear impacts, lightning magic bursts out, engulfing the area around them. All affected zombies burn and fall, their bones broken enough that their magic can''t hold them together anymore.

    Raising my right hand up into the air, I begin summoning arrows of lightning, dropping them down from the sky to assault the monsters. The lightning blasts from their impacts aren''t as powerful as the spears'' were, but they''re still plenty strong.

    Once the horde is reduced to about a third of its former size, I return to the ground, then start charging through the monsters. Even though they''re magical constructs, they still have the feeling of the real thing. That makes it a little bit gross to charge through them, but it''s still fun to just plow right through a horde of monsters with my body. The lightning infusing my body is enough to amplify my speed high enough that I shatter the zombies'' bones quite thoroughly on impact, too.

    When it comes to the last zombie remaining, I stop the charge and flip, kicking its head off with my right foot. As I land on the ground, I kick out with my left foot to strike its chest. The moment my foot impacts it, I release all of the lightning my body was infused with into the monster, blasting it to bits with a thunderous explosion.

    Upon the defeat of the last zombie, all of the simulated corpses return to being forms of pale blue light, then dissolve away.

    "That was awesome!" Tyler charges into the room and toward me, headbutting me in the stomach. I put him into a chokehold for that and start poking at his sides. "Stop! Stop! I''m ticklish!"

    "Oh, sorry!" I say, then poke him a few more times before releasing him.

    "Dude! The way you jumped up into the air and then floated like that!" Tyler exclaims. "And then started calling lightning like it was nothing! It was like you were a lightning god! You could''ve taken them all out at once, couldn''t you have?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "If I wanted to, I could have just released a wave of lightning at the start to wash over them. It would''ve been strong enough to defeat the zombies but not strong enough to get us into trouble with the facility. The problem is that it would have taken up most of my mana ¨C I''m actually fairly low on it right now."

    "Oh," he says. "That''s why you''re not babbling a bunch today, huh? I was wondering about that. Hey! Go set it to 100 power in a jackalope horde! I wanna show you my stuff!"

    I head into the viewing chamber and set up the simulation Tyler wants, then sit on a bench and watch as he starts attacking the jackalopes. The rabbits with antlers come nearly to his knees, and I think he''s enhanced his body a bit to resist their attacks more. Even as a simulation, attacks from them can still hurt ¨C they are physical constructs made of magic, after all.

    Watching Tyler is fun. He performs spins, kicks, flips, and punches, some with and some without magic. His favorite seems to be a flip where he punches the ground as he lands, sending out a shockwave to knock the beasts back. Those closest to him are damaged or even killed by the blast.

    While I''m just thirteen and am also not much experienced on the monster-fighting front, I can tell that Tyler''s pretty talented. His movements are quick and efficient, and he doesn''t seem to waste any energy as far as I can tell ¨C and I''m doing my best. He''s fought monsters his entire life and is even home-schooled so that school doesn''t interfere with work. It doesn''t surprise me at all that he''s this good.

    At least, not against jackalopes. Him fighting a horde of jackalopes is like me fighting a horde of zombies. I want to see him challenge something tougher. That can wait until after I challenge something tougher, though. There''s no way I''m going to let him one-up me.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts around the beginning of Luke''s PoV

    "-would you say is the most important thing when it comes to raising a kid?" Aunt Rachel asks as I enter the house.

    For a moment, I stop and try to figure out why she''s asking me that about raising kids. Then I realize that she''s in the kitchen with Mr. Thompson, so she''s not asking me. Which makes more sense because I have zero experience with raising a kid.

    Though why Mr. Thompson is here doesn''t make any sense¡­

    "Oh!" I exclaim, and they both look over at me. "Did you get pregnant? Is that why you''re moving down here, Aunt Rachel? ''Cause you got pregnant? But if you''re moving down here, you don''t have a boyfriend, right? Since you''d be leaving him behind? Did you forget protection? It''s very important, you know. Helps stop surprises. Or maybe it failed? That sucks."

    "Sig-" she covers her mouth in an attempt to not laugh.

    Mr. Thompson does laugh.

    "Don''t worry," I tell her. "I babysit. It''s fifteen an hour per baby, or twenty if I need to change diapers."

    "You had to come home right then, didn''t you?" She chuckles.

    "Do you know if it''s a boy or a girl yet?" I ask.

    "Not pregnant," she says. "I''m looking into getting custody of a boy. Didn''t you say you it would take you a few hours to get all the lawns done?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "They were kind of spaced out. But it''s hooooooooooooot. Like, look at my shirt!" I pull it off my shoulder and hold it up. "It''s completely soaked! And I''m all sweaty and gross, and that''s after just one yard. So I decided to stop and come take a shower. Hi, Mr. Thompson! I was gonna see if I go hang out with Connor after my shower!"

    "Sure," Mr. Thompson answers.

    "So adopting?" I look at Aunt Rachel. "Oh! Was it because of me telling you about Xander being a foster kid? That''s so cool!"

    "Go take your shower," Aunt Rachel tells me.

    "I need more water first," I hold up my water bottle. "Thirty-two ounces wasn''t enough."

    I drained the entire thing in just half an hour, it''s so hot outside. It''s only June, too, and we rarely get this hot even in August.

    "With that much sweating, you need electrolytes," Mr. Thompson says. "Let me make you a smoothie. A few different fruits with some coconut water should do."

    "Not coconut water," I complain. "That stuff tastes weird!"

    "You''ll not even taste it," he tells me as he starts grabbing things to make the smoothie. "Outside of just making sure he''s fed and has clothes and a place to sleep, there are some pretty important things to keep in mind, Rachel."

    "It''s a boy?" I ask.

    "It''s a boy," Aunt Rachel confirms. "Paul offered to help me out with some advice and he had the afternoon free. I thought he might have some since he''s close with Connor. We''re going to head over to look at some homes in a bit, too. Want to come with us when we go?"

    "Sure!"

    "One of the important things to keep in mind is diet," Mr. Thompson holds up the kiwis he pulled out of the fridge. "The one you''re looking at is a teen. Growing boys tend to eat like crazy. Trust me. I''ve got one of my own and have to feed him and his friends quite often."

    "We don''t eat that much!"

    "How many gallons of ice cream did you four go through in an hour the other day?"

    "In our defense, there were four of us."

    "How many?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "Don''t sweat the small details."

    "Two," Mr. Thompson answers. "They bought two gallons of ice cream and ate all of it. A rule that the other dads and I have is that as long as they''re able to eat their meals, they''re allowed to snack on whatever they want ¨C but their meals have to include healthy stuff as well if they aren''t eating healthy snacks. How much and what they need varies from day to day, so they may snack like crazy one day and then not at all the next. We make sure there are snacks available for them in both healthy and unhealthy varieties, and in ones they like.

    "You''ll see on the fridge here that Sig writes up grocery lists as things get low," he continues. "That''s something he started after noticing that Connor would write stuff on a pad on our fridge at home. With Connor, we let him put down what snacks he wants on his own separate list as well as meal suggestions. It helps us know what he''s liking right now. We don''t make what he wants every day, but we take it into consideration for at least two meals a week."

    He starts cutting up ingredients and adding them into the blender.

    "I was wondering about the list," Aunt Rachel glances at it, then looks at me. "So that''s you writing up what we''re low on or what you want?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "But I do buy my own snacks a lot, too."

    "That''s another thing," Mr. Thompson tells her. "Make sure there are snacks on-hand, but don''t go too extreme. If they want more than that or something different before the next grocery trip, it should come out of their allowance or what they''re earning. At least, that''s how I and the other dads do it. I do an allowance for chores and homework for Connor, while as you know with Sig, he does various jobs."

    Mr. Thompson''s done putting ingredients into the blender and turns it on, pulsing it a few times during the blending. Once it''s done, he pours it into one of the smoothie glasses I bought a few months ago, then hands it to me.

    "That leads into another thing," Mr. Thompson says as I take a hard drink of the smoothie before discovering that even though there wasn''t ice, it''s cold. "Another big one. Transition periods can be rough for someone of any age. Try to keep some degree of consistency from his old life to make it as smooth as possible. Your rules and the ones he''s used to will probably be different. The boy you''re looking into is used to being allowed to do basically anything, so even though he''s a good kid, there will no doubt be clashes."

    It''s a specific boy? And Mr. Thompson knows who it is? Then it must be someone he knows from his work, since he''s a children''s doctor.

    "Make sure your rules are clear," Mr. Thompson continues. "But when there''s a conflict between what he''s used to doing and what you want to do¡­ ask yourself one important question: is it worth it? Not ''is arguing worth it'', but ''is there really a reason for enforcing this rule in this case?'' There may be times where you realize that it''s not really worth enforcing a rule in a specific situation. If he wants to argue with you about a rule, try to talk with him and ask him about his feelings on it. That may lead to a realization that in that moment, it may be fine to let the rule go."

    Mr. Thompson thinks about something for a moment, then nods.

    "One example is the first time we let the boys go off on their own at a holiday fair," he says. "It was the Interception Day Picnic last year. The rule had always been that they had to be with at least one of us dads but last year, they wanted to go about independently and were pretty insistent on it. Our main concern was that something might happen to them."

    "Yeah!" I exclaim. "They really didn''t want to let us go off by ourselves because of all the people there! But there were four of us! There''s no way someone would''ve gotten us!"

    "Right," Mr. Thompson says. "They pointed out that four of them together meant that it would have been difficult for someone to kidnap or hurt any of them without others noticing a commotion. We realized they had a point, and agreed to allow them to under a few conditions. First, they kept in contact with us. Anytime they went to a different area of the fair, they let us know so that we at least knew where they were. Second, they stuck together as a group of all four of them. No splitting off into pairs. Third, if anything happened, they had to contact us as soon as they were able."

    "Sig," Aunt Rachel looks at me. "You keep taking big drinks of that even though you get hit with brain freeze immediately after. Maybe slow down a little?"

    "But it''s so gooooooooooood."

    "Even with the coconut water?" She raises an eyebrow.

    "Can''t taste it," I take another big drink.

    "As an adolescent," Mr. Thompson flicks me on the nose once I pull my drink away from my mouth. "He''s going to be a little bit independent. Trying to block the stuff he does to establish his identity and independence will only backfire. That leads back into the ''is it worth it'' thing I just mentioned and the example I gave. Just try to communicate rather than force your own side and things will go a lot better, especially if compromises can be worked out."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Especially since you won''t really know him that well. Also, why a boy? Wouldn''t be easier to foster a girl since you''re a woman? Like, getting permission and all that?"

    "Finish your smoothie and go take a shower," Aunt Rachel tells me.

    I finish my smoothie, then rinse out the glass and put it by the sink before heading to my room. I drop my sweaty shirt onto the lid of my hamper so it can dry out some, then take off my sneakers and socks before grabbing a fresh change of clothes and heading to the bathroom for my shower. Fifteen minutes later, I''m scrubbed clean, dried, dressed, and ready to head out with Aunt Rachel and Mr. Thompson.

    "Why is it even this hot?" I ask as we get into Aunt Rachel''s car. "It doesn''t make any sense. It''s the end of June, not the start of August. This is like, August temperatures. On a really bad year."

    "It is a bit unusual," Mr. Thompson says. "A surprise heatwave, and clearly magical in nature so the meteorologists can''t get a read on how long it''ll last."

    One downside to magic affecting the weather: the weathermen can''t get close too often, even their high-accuracy magitech weather devices. All it takes is one random mage doing stuff they shouldn''t and bam! A surprise thunderstorm for six hours.

    Though no one can''t convince me that that wasn''t actually a nature spirit.

    I pull out my phone and message the group chat.

    Sig: This heat is awwwwwwwful!

    Connor: I know! It''s killer!

    Sam: Where did it come from?

    Connor: I demand to speak with the fire elemental heating this place up!

    Xander: Ah.

    Isaac: Ah?

    Sig: Ah?

    Connor: Ah?

    Sam: Ah?

    Xander doesn''t respond to us even as we keep texting the group. We created a new group for him to be in with us for texting after hanging out with him on Sunday. Well, we tried to add him to the existing one, except it just created a new one instead.

    Sometimes, he''ll just say one thing and then go quiet, and others, he''ll try to chat and then get flustered over his bad spelling and start sending a bunch of what he considers memes. Mostly, it''s just pictures he''s pulled from the internet of things he likes, like waterfalls and trees and dogs. While I''m not sure what the "Ah." was about, it seems like one of his quieter times. He''d still be watching a documentary right now, wouldn''t he? Maybe he''s distracted by that?

    We keep texting anyway, and it turns into us sending each other pictures of what we''re all doing. Connor''s shirtless and lying on the couch at his place while looking ready to give up on the heat, Isaac''s cleaning his bathroom, and Sam''s playing video games.

    I do have to take breaks while looking at the houses with Aunt Rachel, but I send pictures from some of them. A real estate agent is showing us the houses, and it''s the same lady for all of them. She seems super nice, but most of what she says goes right over my head.

    The first two houses don''t impress me¡­ but the third house is pretty cool. It''s a three-bedroom house with two bathrooms ¨C one in the master bedroom and one for everyone. It even has its own dining room, which is pretty neat.

    "I like this one," I tell Aunt Rachel as I look in the bedrooms again. "You''d have your foster kid, and he could be in this room since it''s the bigger one. That''s not yours, I mean. And then when I stay over, I could stay in this one! Though I guess it''d be your guest room, for when you have guests over. If you get this house."

    I leave the rooms and hurry outside to look at how big the yard is. I barely notice the faded wooden privacy fence with ivy, falling-apart shed, and overgrown backyard before noticing a feature neither of the other two houses had¡­

    "A pool!" I exclaim. "Aunt Rachel! Please get this one! I promise I''ll mow your yards for free if you let me swim in the pool!"

    "I don''t know if the pool would be useful," Aunt Rachel looks at the real estate agent. "The house is in a little bit of a bad state and the pool looks¡­ bad."

    Sure, it looks grimy and that''s probably algae all over it and there''s dirt in the bottom of it, but I''m sure that we can just clean it out and fill it up!

    "Yes," the agent nods before I can try to argue that. "It''s not been in use for a few years, but the wiring and plumbing are up to code. For the pool, the inspection showed that it does need a new filter and possibly a new motor, but everything else is fine. The owners know that the house isn''t in great condition and while the pool does increase the value, they''re pricing the place for less to account for repairs needed."

    "How much is it?" I ask. "''Cause if it''s over sixty-mnh!"

    Aunt Rachel put a hand over my mouth from behind and pulled me against her. She quickly jerks her hand away after finding that I lick when that happens.

    "Sig!"

    "Hahahaha!"

    She pushes my head, causing me to stumble to the side a little, and she chuckles a little as well.

    "How much is it normally worth?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "Three-eighty-nine," the agent answers. "But the owners are asking three-twenty. There aren''t any other offers on the table right now."

    Aunt Rachel, Mr. Thompson, and the agent continue talking as I check the group chat. I send the group a picture of the pool and say that I hope Aunt Rachel buys this house. There are still two more houses to go, but unless those have pools, there''s no way they''ll top this one.

 Chapter 027

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey calls through the door after knocking on it. Both his voice and the knock really quiet to me. "Are you awake?"

    Am I awake? Um¡­ am I? I think¡­ I need to sit up a little, so I do that and start rubbing my eyes. What''s the question? Did I want a shake? To be shaken? Or a milkshake? Or do I just want to shake something? Um¡­ what was the question, again?

    The door opens a little bit and Mr. Trey looks into the room.

    "Did I wake you up?"

    "Um¡­ am I awake?"

    "Looks like you''re still waking up," he says. "Sorry for waking you. Is it alright if I come in, or do you want to go back to sleep?"

    "Yes?"

    "Why don''t you go back to sleep?" Mr. Trey asks. "You can have a longer nap if you want to. Sorry for waking you."

    "I''m awake."

    "I know," he says. "But you still look a little sleepy."

    "I¡­ I''m not sure if you woke me up," I tell him. "Maybe¡­ I was already waking? I heard the knocking, at least¡­"

    "You still look a bit sleepy," he says.

    "Um¡­ you can come in. It''s your house."

    "And your room," he says. "I just wanted to check if you were awake or even in here."

    "I don''t think I need more sleep¡­ do I?"

    "Xander, you-" Mr. Trey stops talking. "Oh. You''re definitely a bit sleepy there, bud. You''re answering questions delayed. Are you okay with me coming in while you finish waking up, or do you want to get some more sleep?"

    "You can come in¡­"

    Mr. Trey comes into the room and walks over, then asks about getting onto the bed. Once I tell him that I''m okay with him doing that, he climbs up and sits beside me.

    "Did you sleep alright?" He asks.

    "I-I think so," I answer. "My naps are usually fine."

    "You still look really sleepy," he says. "Your head''s rolling a bit. Are you sure you don''t want to go back to sleep?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think about if I need more sleep or not. "Analysis says I''m fine to stay awake and it''s just post-nap sleepy."

    "Alright," he says. "Are you up for talking a little? I had some stuff I wanted to discuss with you. If you need a few more minutes to finish waking up, you can have them."

    "I-I''m sorry for being bad."

    "What?" Mr. Trey says. "You weren''t bad. You asked permission to go get caramels and head to the woods, and didn''t argue when I said that Quinn would need to go with you into the woods. He says you let him follow you without arguing or resistance."

    "He didn''t tell you what I did?"

    "I''m going to assume you ate the caramels?" Mr. Trey says. Or is it asks? I''m not sure. It sounds like both and that confuses my sleepy, stupid brain. "You''re a pretty well-behaved boy, so I can''t imagine you did more than that and go for a walk."

    Mr. Quinn didn''t tell Mr. Trey about what I did? Was he waiting to let me do it so that I''d be forced to admit what I did bad? It''s not like I wasn''t going to tell Mr. Trey, anyway.

    "I¡­ you know how it got really, really hot?" I look down at my hands and find that they''re playing with the comforter. "Um¡­ unusually hot?"

    "Yeah," Mr. Trey says. "But you can''t blame yourself for that, Xander. You might use magic subconsciously, but it takes some serious magic to mess with the weather. The area affected was too big to be a mage, anyway. It was probably just some strange fluctuation in Earth''s mana flows."

    "Um¡­ it kind of was my fault, actually."

    "You have to remember that you aren''t to blame for bad things around you," Mr. Trey says.

    "That''s not what I mean!" I feel tears in my eyes as I look at him. "I thought they were just a hallucination so I didn''t give them caramels this year because I thought it would be fine! But then the other boys were talking about the heat in the group chat and Donner said he wanted to talk to the fire elemental that was making it hot and I realized that I messed up and they weren''t a hallucination and were making it really hot because I didn''t give them caramels this year! And they like this really fancy kind, too¡­ I''m sorry, Mr. Trey!"

    "Well¡­ you''re more awake now," he says. "But you''ve lost me, Xander."

    "I''m sorry!"

    "Go back to the beginning," he says. "Who is this ''they'' that apparently likes fancy caramels?"

    "The fire elemental from the volcano nearby."

    Mr. Trey starts to say something several times, but seems to be unable to figure out what it is. My punishment? This was a really bad thing I did and it affected a lot of people.

    "How did you meet the fire elemental?"

    "Um¡­" I try to remember. "Two years ago, I was, um¡­ I was thinking about running away. I-I had my backpack and everything. And I went into the woods. I was-I was really scared! And while I was walking, I spotted what looked like a really big fire, like, bigger than this," I stretch out my arms. "So I thought ''maybe I can just burn up and die and no one will have to bother me'' and it''s not like the other attempts had worked yet so I thought maybe that one would since it was a really big, really hot-looking fire with lots of magic in it.

    "But then the fire moved when I got close," I tell him, moving my arms to the side. "And again. And again. I couldn''t burn myself up in it. And then the flame started talking¡­ and after we talked about my hallucinations the other day, I realized that there was no way a real elemental would want to talk to me and so it was probably just a hallucination and the dork was picking up the caramels after I left! I swear! I didn''t mean to make it make everything hotter! Though they said they were just bored while waiting and not mad at me¡­"

    Mr. Trey pinches the bridge of his nose.

    "So you were trying to run away a couple of summers ago," he says. "And ran into a fire elemental¡­ that apparently lives in the volcano nearby?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "How did the caramel thing happen?"

    "They said they heard about caramels from a friend of theirs and wanted to try some," I tell him. "But also that they didn''t want to bother humans, so they had looked for one who was alone and approached me after seeing me alone.

    "I-I made sure to get the best ones I could find and afford," I say. "There''s a candy shop that makes them, but it''s not the candy shop with the nice old man who owns it. This one''s run by a nice woman who''s not old. Her caramels cost twice as much as his. I''m not sure what makes them different. They don''t taste better than the old man''s, his have a special flavor in them that makes them extra-good. But more expensive means more quality, right?"

    "Not always," Mr. Trey says. "But it''s not important here. Go on."

    "I unwrapped all of the caramels and put them on the ground because the elemental said that was fine," I continue. "And then after they tried them, they told me they would be back in a year for more. And then told me that last year, too. But then I thought they were just a hallucination and the dork was picking up the caramels! Or that it was the dork messing with me and he decided to play with the weather, so I texted him and asked him if it was him and if it was, if he could pretty please turn the temperature down!

    "He told me that he was currently in the North Pole and I''m not sure I want to be as far down on the naughty list as he is for breaking into the North Pole again!" I tell Mr. Trey. "I''m still not sure why Santa won''t fix the machine, since I''m always on the nice list even though I''m a really bad boy.

    "Oh," I shift a bit in discomfort. "Um. I don''t think he''s actually breaking into Santa''s workshop, just some research facility that''s up there. I don''t think Santa''s workshop is actually at the North Pole."

    Mr. Trey pinches the bridge of his nose again and lets out a sigh. Oh, no. I''m in a massive amount of trouble, aren''t I? Me being stupid and thinking something was a hallucination caused a lot of people trouble.

    "Xander," he says. "Let me try to get this all straight, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    "You tried to run away a couple of summers ago," he says. "And ran into an elemental that was looking for someone to buy caramels for them. You tried to kill yourself but but the powerful force of nature said ''don''t do that'' and then spoke with you. They''d heard about caramels from a friend and wanted to give them a try. You bought them some and they liked them enough they wanted to get them again every year. Then this year, you thought they were just a hallucination ¨C and rightly so, it sounds pretty absurd ¨C and after checking with the dork to see if it was just him and finding it wasn''t, you went to get the caramels for the elemental and give them to him? And the reason for the sudden heatwave was because he got bored while waiting for you?"

    "Y-yeah," I try to answer clearly, but my voice won''t be louder than quiet. "S-sorry. Oh. Um. The dork also said he''s jealous of me. That''s weird, isn''t it?"

    "Why would it be weird?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Because why would there be any reason to be jealous of me?"

    Mr. Trey starts laughing quietly, but gets louder and louder until he''s shaking and his head is tilted back a little. This is scaring me, so I stare down at my hands and the blanket until he stops laughing.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Elementals don''t act kindly toward just anyone. Luke is the only other person I''ve met who''s interacted with one and he had to fight it. And when he''s asked directly about the battle, he''s not really sure that it was a draw and not simply the elemental deciding to back off. They''re living masses of an element with a mind. Most people consider them to be enigmas. We don''t know how they exist or what goes through their minds. You''ve done what amounts to befriending an elemental."

    "But¡­ why would one want to be friends with me?"

    "It probably doesn''t see you as a friend," Mr. Trey gestures for me to look up and meet his gaze, so I do. "It was pure luck that caused this to happen and nothing more. You happened to be by yourself in the same area where it was looking for a person who was by himself. To the elemental, you''re probably just a way for it to get caramels without bothering human society. That''s all."

    "Oh¡­" I find myself squirming a little and force my body to stop. "Um¡­ Mr. Quinn said the same thing. Also that he''s never found himself as scared in his life as when he realized there was a fire elemental there. He scared me, though¡­ he pushed me behind him when he spotted them. And why would he be scared? They''re not mean, they just wanted caramels. I don''t know how an elemental can taste, though¡­ especially one made out of fire."

    The phone Mr. Trey is letting me use pings with the text alert I set for the dork, and Mr. Trey grabs the phone and hands it to me.

    "Go ahead and check that," he tells me. "I need to¡­ process things a little bit more.

    I''m not sure what that last bit means, but I can at least understand the first part so I check the text, though it''s not just one message as checking took long enough for him to send more stuff.

    Icy Institution Infiltrator: Santa moved the entrance and I can''t find it. I do believe that if I puncture a dimensional barrier I found earlier, I will be able to slip into the base that way, but it might set off any alarms which he will have put into place since the last time I visited.

    Icy Institution Infiltrator: However, I did discover an arctic variant of griffin. Unfortunately, I do not believe they would be happy living down there. It is a shame, but I suppose I can come up here to ride them.

    That message was followed by a picture of a snow-white griffin with silver eyes, rather than the normal yellow-tan coloring of their pelt and brownish coloring for their wings and golden coloring for their eyes. It''s really a majestic beast.

    I show Mr. Trey the picture.

    "That''s a beautiful griffin," Mr. Trey says.

    "The dork is a little obsessed with them," I tell him. "It makes figuring out what to buy him for his birthday easy. The best gifts to make him happy is tech stuff or something with a griffin on it. I can''t afford tech stuff, so I go with stuff that has griffins on them. Last year, it was a wallet. The year before that, it was a lanyard for school."

    "Does he get you stuff for your birthday?"

    "Cheesecake," I answer. "Oh. But he built the other phone I have for my last birthday. Um¡­ please don''t ask me the pecs for it. I''m not really sure what that means but the dork said I''m not allowed to tell anyone. Mr. Trey?"

    "You want to know what pecs have to do with phones, don''t you?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "I think he probably said ''specs''," Mr. Trey says. "It''s short for ''specifications'' and is the information on the components of the device."

    That''s a lot of big words.

    "Oh."

    "It probably means he put something illegal in the phone."

    "That sounds like him," I say, then realize something. "Or maybe just something really good and he didn''t want it stolen if someone found out."

    "How often do you use the other phone?"

    "Um¡­"

    "Mostly when you run away?"

    "He said it can''t be tracked by anyone but him."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a bit again. Now comes the punishment for thinking the elemental was a hallucination?

    "If you ever feel like running away," Mr. Trey says. "Could you try to talk with me first about what''s making you feel that way? Tiffany said it usually happens when a lot of anxiety and fear builds up in you. It''s your way of trying to deal with it. But I want to help you find a safer way to do that."

    "Um¡­ I can try," I tell him. "But I make no promises. Sometimes¡­ my body just does stuff without my brain telling it no when I get really scared."

    "I know," Mr. Trey says. "That''s why we''re trying to find ways for you to handle your fears and to help you learn what to do when you''re scare. So that it doesn''t build up to the point that you act without thinking. Okay?"

    "O-okay," I look down at my hands again.

    "Now," he says. "Did the dork say anything specific about why he''s jealous of you?"

    "Um¡­" I try to remember. "He says he tried getting the fire elemental from the volcano to help him with making an alloy a couple of years ago and they threatened to insta-rate him if he ever came to their volcano again. I don''t understand why an elemental would want to insta-rate someone¡­ or the difference between that and just rating. Um¡­ sorry for being stupid."

    "I think it was ''incinerate''," Mr. Trey says. "And it sounds like the dork may have annoyed the elemental. He''s lucky it didn''t incinerate him then. That''s destroying something by burning it. From a fire elemental, it likely involves turning them into ash in an instant."

    "Oh," I glance down for a moment. "Um¡­ the dork messaged me again."

    "You can check it."

    Icy Institution Infiltrator: Santa noticed me! My emergency escape was successful, however, so everything has worked out in the end. I now have another three ice cores. They will prove most useful during my work.

    That''s followed by a picture of three canisters nine inches in length and three in thickness. Each one is made nearly entirely of glass, though the ends have silvery metal caps on them with runes and notches for connecting to other devices. Contained within the canisters is a sort of ice-white crystal that fills the entire thing, faintly tinted with blue, and frost patterns spread across the glass.

    "What are those?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ I guess the dork steals the coolant for the computer. I just thought he made them. Well¡­ at least it''s not from Santa''s workshop. Old Man Winter would turn him into an ice sculpture if he were doing that."

    "There''s a research facility up at the North Pole?"

    "Top-secret," I nod. "They''re researching-ack! No! Bad, bad, bad! I''m sorry! I was going to say but they''re top-secret! I''m not even supposed to know about them! I-I-I-I''m s-s-s-sorry, M-M-Mr. T-T-Trey, b-b-but i-i-it w-w-w-would b-b-be r-r-r-really b-b-b-bad i-i-i-if I-I-I-"

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey interrupts me. "In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ good. Did the dork tell you about the research facility?"

    "He''s mentioned it a few times," I say. "He breaks into it at least once every year, but he always calls it either just the North Pole or Santa''s workshop. If he''d met the real Santa, he wouldn''t have managed to escape. Trust me.

    "But," I shift a little bit, uncomfortable. "I don''t know how I know about it. I knew about it before I met the dork. Please don''t tell anyone about it! It''s top-secret! It was really bad of me to say about it! I''m sorry!"

    "Nobody would believe me, anyway," Mr. Trey says. "Is it okay to ask about the computer you mentioned? The one that needs ice cores for cooling?"

    "Oh, that," I say. "It''s some weird computer the dork is working on, and it gets really hot when it''s turned on. So he uses a magic coolant to keep it cool. He says it''s going to change the world once it''s done."

    "Is that the thing he needs power cores for?"

    "Some of them," I answer. "Others are used for different things. I think he has his workshop set up to run off of one, too. But the computer''s on its own network ''case it uses lots and lots of power to run. Wait. How did you know about the power cores? Did I mention them? I don''t remember doing so. Maybe I mentioned them another time. He said he pays for those. I didn''t know he stole the coolant¡­ I guess they''re ice cores."

    "Just a guess," Mr. Trey chuckles.

    Silence falls for a few moments. I don''t know what to say. Mr. Trey is probably going to tell me I can''t do stuff with the dork anymore because he''s a criminal who steals stuff from top-secret research facilities. And the military.

    "Let''s get away from the topic of your criminal friend," Mr. Trey says. "It sounds like you getting the fire elemental caramels is something we''ll have to put on the calendar for next year. Do you have the receipt for the caramels you bought today?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "I already put the cost on my allowance sheet. Or, um¡­ the documents. Since it''s not a printed sheet right now."

    "You can take it off of there," Mr. Trey tells me. "I''ll reimburse you for that, just give me the receipt. Appeasing a force of nature isn''t something that should come out of your allowance."

    "O-okay."

    "On to the second thing I wanted to talk with you about," Mr. Trey says. "Remember how I said I wanted to look for a doctor who can maybe give us a better idea of treatment for the damage to your brain?"

    "I¡­ don''t remember that. I''m sorry for being stupid."

    "It''s not stupid, it''s forgetful," Mr. Trey says. "And your extra memory problems are caused by your brain damage. I know you don''t like going to doctors or hospitals, but I found one who might be able to help. He said he can get us in for some scans on Friday.

    "If you brave your way through it," Mr. Trey tells me. "I''ll buy you an entire cheesecake of your choice, and we''ll do one thing you want to do, even if it''s something you normally wouldn''t want to do. Within limits, so nothing illegal. You''ll also be allowed to eat some of the cheesecake right before bed."

    "I''m not sure if I can brave my way through it."

    "Can you try?" Mr. Trey asks. "If you do this, we might be able to find a way to heal your brain. Then you''ll be able to remember things better and not drop stuff as much. You want that, don''t you?"

    "Yeah¡­ but doctors are really scary."

    "Is Mr. Thompson scary?"

    "Yes."

    "Why is he scary?"

    "Because he''s a doctor."

    "And why are doctors scary?"

    "I-I don''t know!" I cry. "But they are! They scare me lots! And the smells of their offices and the hospitals are scary and awful, too! I-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey interrupts. "Deep breaths. In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ good, good. Feel calmer now?"

    "A-a little," I look at my hands again. "Sorry."

    "It''s okay," he says. "Do you think you can brave it on Friday? For the sake of maybe finding a way to heal your brain?"

    I''m not sure I can brave a doctor''s office, even if it is to fix my stupid brain. But I do want my brain fixed, even if I''m not really worthy of it.

    "I¡­ can try," I tell him. "But I can''t promise it. I''m sorry."

    "That''s okay," he gives me a small smile. I think that means he''s happy with my response, not that he''s going to hurt me. "Sorry for talking with you so much right after you woke from your nap, Xander. How are you feeling?"

    "Sleepy," I answer. "A-and maybe a little bit hungry."

    "Do you want me to fix you a snack?" He asks.

    "Um¡­ c-can I try going in the pool?" I shift a bit as I try to force myself to ask this. "T-the outdoor one? With the dragon floaties?"

    He''s probably going to say "no" because it''s not the day for swimming lessons and other boys aren''t here. But I want to do this¡­ hanging out with S.G. and the others on Sunday made me want to try to work harder at not being scared of drowning.

    "You want to go swimming?" Mr. Trey asks. "That''s a surprise. Is there something in particular that caused this?"

    "Um," I fidget more. "I¡­ I don''t like being scared. And I don''t want to have to have help to get in without screaming. A-and-and-and¡­ maybe if I did it with the floatie some, I can maybe do it without being too scared."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "You can if you want to. I''ll be out back to watch you in case something happens. Would you be okay with me getting into the pool with you? We can toss one of the balls back and forth to help you not think about it."

    In the pool¡­ with Mr. Trey¡­ an adult¡­ this is scary! I don''t want to do that! But the whole reason I want to go in the pool is to not be a scaredy-boy. But it''s an adult!

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey interrupts my panicking thoughts. "Take some deep breaths. In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ good. You don''t have to play with me if you don''t want to, Xander. I know you aren''t too comfortable in a situation like that. If you decline, I''ll just stay nearby in case you need help, and I''ll help you in and out of the pool. Okay?"

    "O-okay," I nod. "Um¡­ but you won''t be close to me? I-if you get into the pool?"

    That was bad to ask! Bad, bad, bad! Stupid fucking worthless piece of shit!

    "Not unless I need to get closer," he tells me. "Like if your floatie pops and you need help. But that shouldn''t happen, since it''s magic and should be more durable."

    He''s not mad?

    "O-okay," I nod. "T-then¡­ maybe I can try and brave that, t-too."

    "Why don''t you get ready to swim," Mr. Trey tells me. "I''ll go get changed, too."

    Mr. Trey gets off of the bed and leaves the room, closing the door behind him as he goes. I change out of the pajamas and into some clothes, then head down to the indoor pool so I can change into the swim trunks. For a few moments, I think about putting on the other swim suit, but decide against it. Mr. Trey would probably be mad at me if I wear it.

    Only partially ready for the pool, I head out back. Mr. Trey is inflating the floaties with a little pump he has, wearing only a pair of black swim trunks. He helps me put the floaties on, then helps me into the pool. My body stiffens up when he touches me for that, and it takes me a little bit to calm down once he''s let go.

    After he inflates the beach ball, Mr. Trey walks over to the deep end and tosses the ball in, then jumps in. That makes a bit of a wave but I''m on the other side, so I''m not splashed by it. It does make me drift a little, though.

    "Alright!" Mr. Trey says after getting the ball. "Are you ready, Xander?"

    "S-sort of."

    "Alright," he says. "Can I toss the ball to you now?"

    "Y-yeah."

    Mr. Trey tosses the ball to me and I do my best to catch it. I even manage to catch it, but my throw back isn''t that good and the ball only makes it halfway to Mr. Trey. He swims forward to grab it, then moves back a little before tossing it back to me.

    "It''s okay," Mr. Trey says after I miss the ball the first time. "Just get the ball and throw it. I''m trying to avoid having it hit your face if you don''t catch it, so my aim isn''t going to be the best every time. And this is just for fun, too, so don''t be too upset if you don''t throw it that well. Okay?"

    "O¡­okay."

    It feels good when Mr. Trey encourages me, but also weird. I''m still not sure what to think about it when he does that. He continues to as we keep playing, and Ms. Katie eventually comes out and starts setting up stuff to cook. That distracts me a little and I start messing up the catches. I can''t see what she''s making from here.

    "Hey, Katie?" Mr. Trey calls after the fourth catch I miss because of me looking towards the deck.

    Stupid worthless fucking piece of shit. You''re making Mr. Trey mad, and now he''s gonna tell her to make you something you hate for dinner.

    "Yes?" Katie looks over.

    "I think Xander''s curious about what''s for dinner," he says.

    "Bratwursts with chips and fruit salad," Ms. Katie answers. "The chips and salad are made here, while the brats were bought at a butcher''s. Since Xander''s doing a bit extra and you guys are going bowling tonight, I''m using some magic brats."

    "M-m-magic brats?" I ask. "A-a-a-are they gonna t-t-t-turn to snow i-i-i-if I eat them?"

    "Uh¡­ no," Mr. Trey gives me a weird look. "What kind of magic brats have you eaten?"

    "The dork said it was an accident," I tell him. "B-b-but the other magic ones he had made me feel a-a-all tingly, like l-l-lightning g-going through m-me. S-s-so I''m not s-s-sure."

    "That''s not normal for magic brats," Mr. Trey gives me an even weirder look. "The dork sounds like he has some unusual tastes in food. You bought magic brats for Xander?"

    "Went out after you told me he was going to go swimming," Ms. Katie confirms. "He always seems to be a bit extra tired after doing stuff like this, so I thought maybe he''s using one of his subconscious spells constantly through it and ends up low very on magic. After a couple of weeks of physical activity training, he should at least have more stamina built up, so he shouldn''t be as tired as he gets. I also bought some magic potatoes and magic fruit. And Xander? It just means that they have magic in them, not that they do magic."

    Mr. Trey seems to think about something for a few moments.

    "That''s a fair point," he says. "I hadn''t thought about that. Let''s see if it works."

    "I-if what works?" I find myself trembling. "A-a-are you doing an experiment on me? G-g-gonna turn m-m-me into a-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Food with magic in it naturally can help a mage recover their own magic faster than just eating a lot of food by itself. It''s an experiment, yes, but the kind that either does nothing or boosts your energy. Just remember that the dork has unusual tastes. He ate an exploding muffin and thought it tasted good."

    That¡­ is probably a good point, and I feel stupid for not remembering that. It should have been obvious that normal magic food isn''t food that does magic, that the dork just has special magic food.

    Maybe I should stop thinking about that. It''s just making me feel worse.

    "He also likes chocolate," I whisper.

    "A lot of people do," Mr. Trey chuckles. "Hey, would you be okay if Katie took some pictures for you to share with S.G. and the others? It''s okay if you''re not comfortable with it, I just thought I''d ask since you do like to send them pictures of what you''re doing."

    "Um¡­" but I''m shirtless. "Maybe? I don''t know."

    "How''s this," Mr. Trey says. "She can take the pictures, and you can decide later if you want to send them or not. That''s for if you want to take some time to decide. If you don''t feel comfortable, you can say ''no''."

    "Um¡­ okay," I nod. "If¡­ if I don''t have to send them and can decide, t-then¡­ okay."

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "Want to go back to tossing the ball?"

    I nod, so we return to doing that. Ms. Katie does take a few pictures with the phone Mr. Trey is letting me use, and it does make me uncomfortable. But I try to ignore it as best I can.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says after awhile. "Want to try getting out of the floaties? You don''t have to if you don''t want to, I just thought that since dinner is almost done, you might want to try before we stop."

    I feel really comfortable right now even though Mr. Trey is in the pool with me.

    "Maybe¡­ maybe the scare is all tired and quiet," I nod. "I-I can try it."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Let''s get out of the pool."

    Mr. Trey gets out of the pool, then helps me out once I get to the side. Once I''m out of the pool, Mr. Trey helps me take off the floaties, then I walk around to the shallow end and try to approach the water. As soon as I start, though, the panic starts coming back.

    "No, no, no, no, no!" I shake my head as I back up. "I-I can''t! It''s bad! It''s bad! I''m gonna drown!"

    "You''re not going to drown," Mr. Trey says softly. "I''m right here, Xander. You''re fine. I won''t let you drown. Do you want to try sitting on the edge with your legs in the water? I''ll be right here the whole time so if you slip, I''ll catch you."

    Coach Evan wants me to try doing that, too. Sitting on the edge with my feet and legs in the water. But my panic is too big right now and I try to want to do it but I can''t. Not without screaming and I know Mr. Trey doesn''t want that and I don''t want that and that''s really bad.

    "What if we did what Luke sort of suggested the first week?" Mr. Trey asks. "You close your eyes and get closer. I''ll tell you when to stop, then you sit down. Once you''re sitting, you extend your legs into the water, then adjust yourself so you can sit comfortably."

    "I-I don''t think I can sit comfortably like that. Sorry!"

    "You''ll probably think of it as ''not sitting awkwardly''," Mr. Trey tells me. "Do you want to try this? You don''t have to if you don''t want to."

    This really scares me even though Mr. Trey promised to make sure I won''t drown. I want to say I don''t want to do this but at the same time, I don''t want to be a scaredy-boy anymore and this is one of the things I should do to try for that. Thinking about it doesn''t make me ask scared as getting into the water without the floaties.

    "M-maybe¡­"

    "If you give it a try and find that you can''t," Mr. Trey says. "That''s perfectly okay. You''d have tried, right?"

    "Y-yeah," I close my eyes. "Um¡­ please don''t let me walk into the pool!"

    "I won''t," Mr. Trey says. "Are you okay with me putting my hands on your shoulders for this?"

    "No."

    Please don''t be mad I said ''no''.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Take a small step forward¡­ maybe a little bit bigger than that. Too big, too big. Okay, there you go. Now bring your other one up next to it. Next step, and bring your other foot forward."

    Mr. Trey keeps talking me through walking forward, then tells me to stop.

    "Bring your butt down to sit," he says. "But don''t move your feet from that spot. Go into a crouching position. I''m right here in case you fall. Put your hands down to brace yourself¡­ okay, for this next step, Xander, remember that I''m right here in case something happens. Move one foot forward as if you''re going to sit with your legs out."

    I do that and find nothing for my foot to touch until it''s low enough to reach the water in the pool and panic starts to fill me even more.

    "It''s okay, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "I''m right here. I won''t let you drown. Do the other foot and you''ll be sitting on the edge."

    Very, very, very not comfortable, I move my other leg forward and let it go into the water. Breathing is hard. I need to hold onto something. I need-

    "Good job, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "I''m proud of you. Try to breathe slowly, okay? Focus on that. I''m going to sit next to you now. Open your eyes when you''re ready, or if you want to stop, let me know and I''ll help you up and away from the water as fast as possible, okay?"

    I nod but keep my eyes closed as I try to do slow breaths like he said. It helps me calm down a little, but I''m still scared. I want to get up. I want to run away. This is horrible!

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey interrupts my panicking. "Katie''s brought over dinner. We can eat here, but try not to drop anything into the water, okay?"

    Before I realize it, I''ve opened my eyes and looked over to see Mr. Trey sitting closer than I''d thought he was and Ms. Katie here with a pair of plates, two cups already set down. That food looks really good, and the plastic cup by me has lemonade in it while Mr. Trey''s glass has tea. He really likes tea. Some napkins are also on the ground, placed under a polished stone for some reason. There are two more of the stones there as well.

    "O-okay," I nod, my body shaking a bit. "I-I can try that."

    Ms. Katie gives me a plate and Mr. Trey takes the other from her, then she heads back to the deck. The plate I was given has two brats on it, a pile of still-greasy chips, and a small bowl of fruit.

    "Oh!" I say. "I know these fruits!"

    "You do?" Mr. Trey asks. "They''re a magic breed, so they''re a bit more expensive."

    "I don''t know their names," I tell him. "But the dork likes them. They have a special flavor."

    "A special flavor?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I don''t know how to describe it. Most of the food he buys or brings has them. Like the suckers he made. But he forgot that I don''t like suckers so he took them back after dropping them off. That''s why you never saw them."

    "He¡­ may be adding something to the food," Mr. Trey says. "Go ahead and eat, Xander."

    I nod, then use the fork that was on the plate to get one of the pieces of cut fruit, then eat it. It has the special flavor. It''s a really good one and I always like the food the dork has that has it.

    After I eat all of the fruit, I take a bite of the chips. They''re plain chips made from thinly-sliced potatoes and then fried in oil, no added flavorings, I don''t think. But they have that special flavor, too. So do the brat and ketchup. The food is really delicious because of that, though the bun lacks the flavor. That doesn''t ruin the taste, though. It still tastes good.

    Even the lemonade has the special flavor to it!

    "Even the lemonade?" Mr. Trey asks when I tell him, after eating four plates of brats, chips, and fruit. "The food all has the special flavor?"

    "Except the bun," I tell him. "It was really good!"

    "Everything except the bun was made with magic food," Ms. Katie says as she refills my lemonade. "Even the lemonade, actually. It all had that special flavor you like?"

    "Yeah!" I nod.

    "If you had a tail, you''d be wagging it right now," Mr. Trey chuckles.

    "Huh?" I look back. "I don''t have a tail."

    "It''s how happy you are," Mr. Trey says. "You like that ''special flavor'' a lot, huh?"

    "Yeah!" I nod. "I haven''t tasted it since moving in here, though."

    "Since you aren''t hanging out with the dork at his workshop?"

    "Well¡­" I shift a little. "There''s¡­ there''s a safe place I like going to. There''s a subs shop there and all of their food has the special flavor, too. Um. They had an arrangement with the boys'' home and gave them a discount on food for me, up to once a weak. So it didn''t come out of my allowance. And the candy shop run by the old man I told you about, they have it, too."

    "Did you like going there?" Mr. Trey asks.

    I did, but I don''t want him to know where it is. That''s why I haven''t asked to go there. I can''t be comfortable there if I''m being followed around.

    "Ms. Johnson said they talked with the restaurant so that I could get more food," I tell him. "Since I didn''t get to eat much at the home. I wasn''t sure about it but she said it came out of a disk-disk-disk-ration-ear-yee fund? I think that was the word. Disk-ration-ear-yee. I''m not sure what yees or ears have to do with it. But maybe the disks are what the rations are put on? Ms. Johnson said it''s money that they can put toward basically anything that''s not important, and since I wasn''t eating much at the home, it was okay to use some of it to make sure I got at least some good food once a week."

    She was telling me the truth when she said that. She told me to look in her eyes first so I know she was honest.

    "Discretionary fund?" Mr. Caldwell asks. "In simple terms, it''s just money that you can use at your choice, without it being for something necessary or important. A lot of businesses have them. You know the Wolf''s Dragon? How they''re giving you the smoothies and milkshakes free?"

    "Yeah."

    "Each employee there has their own discretionary fund per customer," he tells me. "An amount that they can discount from a meal without needing a manager approval. The free treats they''re giving you comes from that. They''re only supposed to use it in case of a minor error, but they seem to like you enough to make an exception and use it to give you something extra."

    "They''re not gonna get into trouble, are they?"

    "Emily is one of the managers," Mr. Trey chuckles. "And she''s given you one, right? This past Saturday?"

    "Um¡­ yeah."

    It was a banana-split milkshake, she said. There was banana, milk, ice cream, caramel syrup, and sprinkles. It was super good, but maybe could have used a little bit more caramel.

    "Then it''s okay," he says. "Do you know the name of the restaurant?"

    "I don''t," that''s very true. I don''t remember it''s name. "B-but it''s okay. You let me eat lots here."

    It''s true I don''t remember the name, but I''m kind of glad for that so I didn''t have to lie or avoid answering. I don''t want him to know that area because if he knows it, then it won''t be as safe anymore. Places are only safe if other people don''t know I''m there.

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "How are you feeling?"

    "Still a little hungry," I rub my stomach. "But it''s okay. Um. A little bit nervous."

    "How come?"

    That means "why", right? I''m still trying to figure out all of the weird phrasings, but I think that''s what it means.

    Answering this is hard. If I tell him the truth, he''ll probably get mad at me. If I don''t answer, then he''ll get mad at me. If I lie, then he''ll get mad at me. But it''s better to get into trouble for being honest than for avoiding answering or for lying. I''ve already avoided answers lots since coming here and there''s no telling how long it''ll be before Mr. Trey gets super mad and doesn''t want me anymore.

    "Because you''re wanting to know my safe place."

    "So not because of the pool?"

    "The pool?" I ask, and Mr. Trey points at the pool¡­

    I completely forgot I was sitting on the edge of it with my feet in the water. How did that happen?

    "I¡­ I think my panic broke."

    When did it break? And how did Mr. Trey manage to break it?

    "Do you want to try getting into the pool without the floaties?" Mr. Trey asks. "I can get in first just to make sure, and you can grip the edge and lower yourself in."

    My panic is definitely broke, because I don''t feel scared at all when thinking about his suggestion.

    "Okay," I nod.

    Mr. Trey lowers himself into the water, then moves around so he''s a little bit in front of me. Once he tells me he''s ready, I hold my breath and start to lower myself down. The water only goes up to my neck here so I don''t need to hold my breath, but my body made me do it.

    "Exhale," Mr. Trey tells me once I''m standing in the pool. "And breathe slowly, okay. They don''t need to be deep breaths, just try to breathe slowly."

    I nod and listen to Mr. Trey, who starts to back up. Once he''s taken about five steps back, he beckons to me.

    "Want to try and come closer?" He asks.

    I try and find myself still not panicking. My panic is definitely broken right now. How did he break it?

    "Do you want to toss the ball around again?" Mr. Trey asks. "If you''re okay with it, Quinn can even join us so there are three of us."

    I don''t want to be around another shirtless adult, but Mr. Quinn is Mr. Quinn. He''s special magic forces and the dork says that special magic forces are the best of the best so I''m always safe around him. That if someone passes their basic training, they''re fully trustworthy when it comes to not hurting boys like me. He''s never hurt me when he''s taken me out to places, like earlier. I was scared when he had to follow me into the woods, but he didn''t do anything other than get scared of the fire elemental and push me behind him (though I really don''t know why he did that).

    But maybe throwing the ball with more than one other person would be fun?

    "O-okay," I nod. "Um¡­ I think maybe I''m okay with Mr. Quinn joining us."

    "Katie," Mr. Trey looks at Ms. Katie, who''s cleaning up our dinner dishes. "Could you let Quinn know?"

    "Sure," she answers.

    Ms. Katie heads inside with the dishes, then comes back out a minute later with Mr. Quinn, who''s already wearing swim trunks. Was this talked about between them earlier? I wasn''t going to be given a choice, was I?

    Even though they were apparently going to do this anyway, it''s still fun to throw the ball with both of them. I do get tired very fast, though, so we only play for about ten minutes before stopping.

    "If you want to rest on one of the pool chairs for a bit before going inside to shower and change," Mr. Trey tells me. "You can. I''m going to talk with Quinn about leaving out information like encountering a fire elemental."

    I am so glad I''m not Mr. Quinn right now.

 Chapter 028

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts toward the end of Chapter 27

    "That''s why applying lightning magic doesn''t work," I say as I open the door to the diner, and Tyler walks in ahead of me. "Not that there aren''t ways around it, but those are all frustrating."

    "Dealing with ultrapure water would be annoying," he says. "But if you made it conductive like normal water, it should be doable, right?"

    "The trick would be contaminating it," I say as we slide into an empty booth. "See, water elementals are the epitome of true water magic. You''d have to actually find a way to get the contaminants to stick."

    "True," he nods. "I can imagine that would be frustrating. And you''re best with lightning magics, not others."

    "Yeah," I say. "Most likely, I''d have to kick up dust or something to do it, but it would easily purge that ¨C if the dust could even penetrate. Or make my lightning hot enough to just evaporate the water. Again and again."

    "What would your strategy for fighting one be, then?" He grabs a menu from the older at the wall end of the table.

    "Hope that I''m able to lightning-charge myself and run faster than it can start manipulating the water in my body."

    "Smart move," he says as I grab a menu to look through. "I''d probably just end up dead, even if it''s a weaker one. I can boost my speed, but nowhere near fast enough to escape from a powerful creature. Drinks aren''t on this."

    "They aren''t?" I quickly skim through it, then glance at the menu holder and pull off the one for desserts and look through it. "They put it on the back of the desserts menu."

    "That''s stupid!" He exclaims as he grabs the other dessert menu from the stand. "So we''ve gone through all of the standard elementals. Should we do variants, another type of beast, or a mythic? In this case, ones which may or may not exist, like dragons, unicorns, and phoenixes."

    "It would be hard to gauge how well I''d fare against something mythical," I say. "We can do greater canine variants, though."

    "But not hellhounds," he giggles. "We already know how''d you fare against one of those!"

    "I''d lose against a royal one," I say.

    "I''d lose against any!"

    "You boys talking about a game?" A middle-aged woman approaches, pencil and pad in hand and a name tag pinned to her apron.

    "Nah," I say. "Hey, the menu doesn''t mention if you do free refills on the normal drinks or not."

    "All sodas and lemonade varieties have free refills," she informs me.

    "Cool," I say. "Can I get the raspberry lemonade, a root beer float, and a chocolate-covered strawberry milkshake? Would it be possible to get banana in it, too?"

    "We can do banana in it," she writes on her pad, then looks at Tyler. "And for you?"

    "Same as him," he says. "Except the tropical island twist instead of lemonade."

    It''s a mix of lemon-lime soda and some more tropical fruit flavors. Not a bad choice, though I''ve never been to this diner before, so I don''t know how theirs is.

    "Okay," she writes on her pad. "Are you boys ready to order? Or do you need a few more minutes?"

    "We haven''t had time to look at the menu yet," I say. "But I did glance at the appetizers. Tyler and I just spent the last four hours using magic and doing martial arts, so we''re pretty hungry. Would it be possible to put in an order for those while we look at the rest?"

    After the two hours at the simulation center were up, Tyler and I went to a gym and sparred in martial arts alone, then compared skills and taught each other some stuff.

    "Sure thing," she responds. "What would you boys like?"

    "Could I get an order of mozzarella sticks," I say. "And a twelve-piece of the honey-barbecue wings, as well as a twelve-piece of the hot wings. Please, and thank you!"

    The look on the waitress''s face tells me she doesn''t think we''ll be able to eat everything we order if we order more than just this.

    "You like honey-barbecue?" Tyler asks as he looks at the appetizers menu. "Weirdo."

    "Says the thirteen-year-old who hunts monsters with his dad."

    "Hey! Plenty of kids do that!" Tyler exclaims, then looks at the waitress. "For my appetizers, I''d like the supreme nacho combo, onion rings, and a twelve-piece of the lemon-pepper, please. Thanks!"

    "And you''re commenting about me liking honey-barbecue," I snort as the waitress pauses for a moment.

    She thought that my order of appetizers was for the two of us, not that it was for me and me alone. I might share some of mine with Tyler and he might share some of his with me, but I actually need a lot of food at the moment. After draining my magic this morning, spending so much to show off with Tyler has wiped me out.

    Even with us drinking magic smoothies at the simulation center.

    "Oh, and don''t worry about the cost of dinner," I tell Tyler. "I know you mentioned you and your dad are low on funds right now. My treat. I haven''t had this much fun training with magic or martial arts in forever."

    "Cool!" Tyler exclaims. "Thanks! My dad and I are going to be here for the next couple of days. You want to hang out again?"

    "I can a little bit," I tell him. "Though I have stuff in the mornings on weekdays, and I was going to head to the office tomorrow afternoon to work on a project. It''s a personal one and I want to get it done before school resumes so we can get it out on the market, but I can hold off on that. I''ve been hitting a block with it, anyway. There''s something wrong with the enchantment matrices and I have zero clue what. I may have to ask Mom for permission to use our mana-analysis machine. That''s pretty expensive to operate, though, so I want to hold off on asking as long as possible and see if I can''t figure out the problem without it."

    The device cost thirty-eight million dollars to purchase, and runs a cost of around eight grand for each square inch it analyzes just from how much fuel it needs. Well, the cost equivalent is that. I can lower that with mana crystals made from my mana.

    I''ve been asking Mom to get it set up so that I just can power it directly, but she refuses because that''d violate the maintenance contract. Having to keep it maintained ourselves instead of calling in the producer would be troublesome.

    "Do you know how to operate it?" Tyler asks. "Oh! Which kind is it? I''ve seen a couple at some of the facilities that Dad and I sold monster parts to."

    The waitress is still standing here, having not written down Tyler''s appetizer order yet. She''s clearly not sure about how much food we''ve ordered with the statement that it''s just our appetizers.

    "We don''t need it all out at once," I tell her. "So it can come out in stages if it''s too much for the kitchen to do quickly."

    "Okay," the waitress quickly jots something down on her pad. "I''ll be back with your drinks in just a minute."

    "Thanks!"

    She leaves, and I look at Tyler.

    "We probably should have gone somewhere that caters to mages," I say. "Oh, well. And we''re Gatewood Energy, Tyler. It''s a Lumaria-built one. We''d not go for anything but the best and my parents were able to purchase one from them."

    Though our power company is a competitor to theirs, Adrian King isn''t an asshole with his policies. Even if someone else bought a mana-analysis machine from his company, they wouldn''t be able to replicate its efficiency. I''ve heard a rumor that he personally builds each one.

    "I do know how to operate it, too," I tell him. "Mom taught me when we needed it for a recent project."

    "That''s pretty cool," he says. "What''s the problem with the enchantment matrices? The power supply? It''s a generator, right?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "A small, portable one that is supposed to be six times as potent as the standard one for that size. And no, not the power supply portion of it. I can handle that just fine, actually. Usually just takes some tweaking and testing and I can get the power part down.

    "There are two problems," I tell him. "The first is that it generates heat. Magitech isn''t scientech. A magitech device isn''t supposed to generate any heat, and I can''t figure out why this one does. For a device that''s supposed to be usable indoors or in an enclosed space, producing heat is a burn and fire hazard.

    "The other problem," I continue. "And the most important one, is that something just doesn''t work. The runic setup looks proper and even as I adjust it based on what I look up and experiment to find, some part of it just refuses to work. I need to do some more testing to narrow down where the actual fault lies, which is what my plan for tomorrow was. Like I said, though, I can postpone that a bit. I need a break from the project."

    That''s part of why I was just playing video games today when I didn''t have anyone to hang out with. I really needed to get my mind off this problem. The heat issue can wait until after I figure out the other problem, since it may be caused by whatever is causing things to not work.

    "Do you already have an idea?" Tyler asks.

    "A little bit of one, yeah," I nod. "I can''t sense anything wrong with the actual generation or transfer of energy when I test those individually. Something in the connections between the enchantment and power matrices must be what''s wrong."

    "I don''t know much about magitech so I can''t help," he says. "But I can say that if you kick it and it starts working, it''s probably not magitech."

    "I did actually try that in frustration yesterday," I tell him. "Didn''t work. Anyway! Let''s go back to discussing what monsters we think we could take on in a fight! Greater hound variants!"

    Our waitress returns with our drinks while we''re doing that, and we place our meal orders as well. Just as with our appetizers, she''s skeptical of it. By the time our third round of appetizers has arrived, however, she''s starting to realize that we can really put food away ¨C we''re eating it faster than it''s coming out. There''s no hesitation when she finally takes our dessert orders.

    "We probably should have gone to a place that caters to mages," Tyler says as we slide out of the booth once we finish eating. "The food was good, but I''m stuffed and magic in it would have helped us recover."

    "Yeah," I stretch, then pull out my wallet. "But I don''t plan on using magic again today. Are you?"

    "Nah," he answers. "It feels weird being so low on it, though. Wasn''t expecting to use that much and it always takes a few days to return to full."

    "I know," I pull some bills out of my wallet. "We''d probably have eaten just as much food there, though, and it would''ve cost more."

    While magic-filled food boosts our recovery better than normal food does, it doesn''t affect how much we need to eat. It would have tasted better for sure, though.

    "You can keep the change for a tip," I tell the waitress when I hand her the cash. "Have a good day."

    The waitress calls after us as we leave, probably because of the tip I''m leaving. Tips aren''t necessary so they aren''t common and she''s probably used to receiving maybe a few dollars as one at most from a customer who even gives one. Our total came out to be around a hundred and seventy dollars and I gave her four fifties. It''s around a thirty-dollar tip.

    Had the meal been of magic food, the cost would have probably been over two hundred dollars, maybe even closer to two-fifty. That''s the kind of restaurant meal I have when I''m starving and need magic, and part of why there was a separate meal station set up to feed me at the rescue efforts.

    Me giving her a tip is really meant as a lesson than as generosity. It was clear at the start she didn''t think we''d be able to eat or afford the meal. Me casually putting down two hundred dollars like that will hopefully teach her not to judge kids like that.

    "Buy yourself a good meal," I wave to her. "Come on, Tyler. Xavier''s waiting for us."

    We head out to the car and get in, and Tyler buckles up in the middle seat so we can watch stuff on my phone on the ride back to Dragon Falls.

    "Boys," Xavier says as I pull out my phone. "Drink these."

    Xavier hands us some bottles that he pulls out of the center console. They look like ordinary water bottles, but one is filled with a blue-tinted liquid and the other is filled with a yellow-tinted liquid, both of them clear and glowing faintly. They''re in clear, 16oz reusable bottles with sports caps.

    I take the one with the yellow liquid while Tyler takes the one with the blue, staring at it with wide eyes. They''re both cool thanks to the console being enchanted to act as a fridge, complete with a minor spatial compression enchantment so that it can hold more stuff than it ordinarily would.

    "What¡­ whoa," Tyler says. "You just keep these in the car? Jeez. I know you''re a lot richer than me, but I didn''t think you did that."

    His confusion is understandable. These are called "mana potions" by normal people both because they usually don''t know the real name and because the real name is a bit unwieldy to just say casually.

    It''s basically liquid mana that''s been altered into a form that we can consume and process at a rapid pace. That glow is caused by the mana that''s inside them, and a single bottle of it costs over $1,000 for a normal one.

    I''m actually just as confused as Tyler, but not for the same reason as he is. We do keep these in the car, but they''re never given out just like that. Ours are higher-end on top of being expensive, so they cost even more. The plain one that Tyler''s holding costs $5,000 and will refill his mana to full with only a tenth of it.

    Mine is tailored specifically to my own mana to bolster its recovery rate and the entire bottle will restore around a fifth of my mana. While my family is fabulously wealthy, we don''t drop $10,000 just to restore a fifth of my mana.

    That''s why I didn''t use this during the rescue efforts. There were cheaper alternatives. The fact that the alternatives also let me recover in other ways was part of it as well, but I''d have needed more than a dozen of these potions for the rescue if I used them.

    "Careful not to over drink," I tell Tyler as I pop the top of mine open. "Drink slowly or you risk mana poisoning."

    That happens if a person''s mana recovers too fast from an artificial source, especially if they accidentally restore more than they can hold. I won''t have that problem since mine was actually made with my mana, so it''d take a lot more of the drink to hit me with mana poisoning.

    Using my own mana to produce it also lowered its cost significantly, though that''s not too important.

    "I''ve had them before," Tyler says. "Dad and I sometimes drink them when we''re low on mana on a hunt."

    "Yeah," I say. "But that''s a higher-end one than you''re used to, I''m sure. Only a tenth will restore you to full."

    Tyler''s eyes bug out as he looks at the bottle in his hands.

    "What''s going on, Xavier?" I ask before taking a drink of mine.

    "A precaution," he answers. "It may be nothing, but your parents called and told me to give those to you before we make our way back. You can still watch stuff on your phone, I''ll let you know if you need to be ready to move."

    "A fight?" Tyler asks. "What''s going on?"

    "You know I could probably look it up, right?" I ask Xavier.

    "It''s not online," he says. "Just watch stuff on your phone and I''ll let you know if you need to act."

    Tyler and I are a bit distracted by the possible threat for the first ten minutes of the ride, but we eventually get distracted by the stuff we''re watching.

    Mostly.

    I can tell that Xavier is serious about what''s going on, so that does keep distracting me. The way his energy is flowing is¡­ it''s how it gets when he''s tense. His gaze also keeps shifting around, looking for something.

    After all the physical and magical exertion I''ve done today, though, and with a stomach that''s stuffed with food¡­ I end up falling asleep. Just because having more mana makes me hyper, that doesn''t mean my body can''t still be sleepy.

    When I wake, I''m leaning against Tyler, with his head resting against mine. At least, that''s what it feels like, and I''m still buckled into the car, which isn''t moving.

    A light poke in the side catches my attention and I realize that I''d been woken up by one. When a third one happens, I grab Parker''s hand before opening my eyes and looking at him. We''re at my house, and he''s opened the door to the car.

    "Oi," he says. "You''re home. Who''s that?"

    "Tyler," I answer. "From my last vacation. Monster hunter. In town. Guess nothing happened on the ride."

    "Nothing happened?"

    "Yeah," I yawn a little, then shift and poke Tyler in the side until he wakes. "We''re home. Whatever my parents were expecting to happen apparently didn''t."

    "It did," Xavier says, already outside of the car. "But it was something I could handle on my own so I left you two asleep."

    "Oh," I say. "Sorry for falling asleep."

    "Is that Parker?" Tyler asks as he looks at Parker.

    "Yup," I locate my phone, which had fallen to the floor. "Weren''t you hanging out with your friends?"

    "Yeah," he answers. "But I was wondering about spending the night. Mom and Dad are catering an event overnight."

    Parker hates being alone overnight.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "Sure," I answer. "Oh! Tyler! I fell asleep before we got to the good part!"

    "We can watch it again," he says as I close the app, then pocket my phone. "Let''s get out of the car. I need to stretch my legs."

    "Do you want to spend the night?" I ask as I unbuckle and get out. "I don''t think my parents would mind. Or you, Parker?"

    If Tyler''s dad''s okay with him spending the night, but Xander''s not okay with Tyler coming over for lessons tomorrow, we can probably drop Tyler off at wherever his dad is staying before the lesson starts. Or Xander could take a break from his lessons for a day¡­ he''s trying hard but it''s got to be stressing him.

    "Uh¡­ sure?" Parker has a weird look on his face.

    "Don''t worry," I tell him. "Tyler''s cool. He''s even able to hold a discussion with me on magical theories. It''s gonna be-what happened to you?"

    I just caught sight of Xavier and his clothes are a bit torn and bloody, and his face has several wounds on it, including a nasty-looking gash on his forehead.

    "You should have woken me!" I exclaim.

    "It was only a little bit more difficult than I expected," Xavier says. "I''ll heal up fine once I get treated."

    "Xavier!" I exclaim. "There''s a massive gash on your face!"

    "You did quite a lot of physical activity today," Xavier says. "And you''re sparking, Luke."

    "Argh!" I exclaim. "Let''s go inside and play video games! And Xavier! Make sure you get healed properly!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts during Luke''s PoV

    "Pwp! ¡­ Pwp! ¡­ Pwp! ¡­ Pwp!"

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey asks from where he''s sitting to watch Ms. Katie and I work.

    He waited until I finished the task Ms. Katie assigned me to ask. It was probably so that Ms. Katie wouldn''t need to wait, since she said that this task has to be done in a certain amount of time.

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "Were you having fun peeling the peaches?"

    Oh, no. Am I not supposed to be having fun while helping Ms. Katie? The skins are coming off so easily, though, and it''s just really fun to pull them off. I don''t know why it''s fun, it just is. All I have to do is pinch them a little bit in a certain way and pull¡­ and pwp! The peel comes off completely! Ms. Katie did something to them with hot and cold water that''s apparently made them like this.

    "A little bit, sir."

    "It looks like it," he smiles. "And sounded like it, too."

    "S-sounded like it?"

    "You were making a little sound each time you pulled off the peel," he tells me.

    "S-sorry!"

    "You''re not in trouble, Xander," he says. "I recorded a video of you doing that, in case you wanted it."

    It was okay for me to make a noise while having fun?

    "O-oh. Okay."

    Ms. Katie has me return to helping her. Now that all of the peaches are peeled, she starts cutting them up and removing their pits. Once a peach is sliced up, she slides it to the side of the cutting board, eventually having a lot of slices on there. They all get pushed into a skillet, then she has me pour the sugar she told me to measure into it.

    "Good job," she says. "I should have mentioned, but when doing this, you want to pour the sugar around in the pan instead of all into one spot. It''s not a problem, though. I can use the spoon to move it around like this."

    This is the first time I''ve been allowed to pour the sugar into the skillet when we''re making something with a fruit filling. I don''t think she''s upset that I messed it up the first time.

    The only other problem that happens while we''re working on this is when I drop a bowl toward the end of the mixing stages. It was over the counter so it didn''t fall and break, but the loud clatter still startles me. That was really loud and scares me a little, but I''m even more scared of being in trouble for dropping the bowl. The bowl was empty since I just poured the stuff into the mixer, but I still dropped it.

    "Xander," Ms. Katie says. "Are you okay?"

    "N-no."

    "I can see that," she says. "You''re shaking. It''s okay, Xander. All that''s left is to mix this up, then put it on top of the filling and put the cobbler in the oven. Do you want to take a few minutes to calm down?"

    "I-is¡­ is that okay?"

    "It is," she says.

    "M-Mr. Trey?" I look at him. "Y-you said I-I could only b-bring something i-if I helped m-make it."

    We got permission from the bowling alley to bring in another dessert, so I asked about making something with peaches this time and Ms. Katie suggested peach cobbler, which is what we''re making now. Since it''s something extra, Mr. Trey said I had to help make it if I wanted to bring it.

    "And you did," he says. "You''ve done a lot of stuff today and didn''t take another nap after swimming. You''re probably feeling tired, aren''t you? Go ahead and sit down and rest if you want, you''ve already done plenty to help make the cobbler."

    "O-okay," I pull off the apron and make sure to hang it up, then wash my hands and dry them. "S-sorry for d-dropping the b-bowl, Ms. Katie."

    "It''s okay, Xander," the smile she gives me seems gentle for some reason. "Go get some rest. I was expecting it for awhile now with how sleepy you look."

    I leave the kitchen and go to the living room to try and calm down. I don''t know why loud noises scare me and make my heart beat really fast, but they do. I wish I could be normal.

    After I lie on the floor, with my arms and legs spread out, Mr. Trey comes and puts the phone he''s letting me use next to me.

    "Will you be comfortable if I lie next to you?" Mr. Trey asks. "A little bit away so we aren''t touching, of course."

    He''s not asking if he can lie down, but if I''m comfortable with it? He''s been changing the way he asks questions and it''s been confusing me. Why does it matter what I''m comfortable with? It''s his house and he''s an adult, while I''m just a worthless boy.

    "I-I might be," I tell him. "I-I''m not sure."

    "Then I''ll lie down, and you let me know if you start getting uncomfortable," Mr. Trey says.

    He lies down and I look over to see that he has his hands on his stomach. If I try that while lying like this, my hands just slide off. Maybe I should bring my arms and legs in, though? But this is more comfortable and I always feel more comfortable like this. Mr. Trey doesn''t say anything about it, either.

    For a few minutes, Mr. Trey doesn''t say anything at all so the only sounds are from Ms. Katie working in the kitchen.

    "What bothers you more, dropping the bowl or the loud sound it made?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "D-dropping the bowl."

    "That was just a mistake, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "It''s okay to make mistakes. Usually, you''ll want to try and learn from them or avoid them in the future, but you struggle with your grip because of the damage to your brain. It''s not something you can help. I''m never going to reprimand you for an accident that you can''t help. You''re not looking in my eyes right now and if you want to after resting, I can say that again."

    Maybe¡­ I don''t need to look him in the eyes for that. But I still want to, just in case. But I think he''s being honest.

    "O-okay¡­"

    "Now," he says. "Do you know why the noise scared you?"

    "N-no," I answer. "But it did. And I don''t know why it scares me."

    "And that''s okay," he tells me. "Sometimes, we''re just scared of things. I know you worry about things a lot, Xander. You''ve been here almost a month now and I''ve gotten to see that pretty well. When you get scared, don''t be worried about being scared. Just find something to help you calm down, okay?"

    "I''m not in trouble for being scared?"

    "No, Xander," he chuckles. "You''re not in trouble for being scared."

    "O-okay."

    Mr. Trey doesn''t say anything after that, and I don''t know what to say. But then something I was thinking about while showering after the pool comes to mind. It''s going to sound really weird if I ask it, though. But maybe I won''t get into trouble?

    "Mr. Trey?"

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "W-what''s a golem?"

    "A golem?" He asks. "They''re magical constructs generally made of stone or clay, usually meant for combat. Expensive to make, and generally needs to be enchanted heavily to strengthen them so they don''t break when struck by spells. They also need enchantments to hold up under their weight, I believe. I don''t know too much about them, but I know they''re regulated by the government. Quinn and some of the other guards would know more ¨C they''re mostly used by the military and Quinn is military and most of my guards are former military. Why?"

    "Um¡­" I fidget a little.

    "You won''t get into trouble for answering, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "It''s okay."

    "Um¡­ when I was washing off the pool water," I say. "I had some really weird thoughts and the world ''golem'' entered them. But I don''t know how to spell it so trying to look it up didn''t work that well."

    "What kind of weird thoughts?"

    "They were all really scrambled," I tell him. "I don''t really remember what they were. Not very clearly. S-sorry! I just remember ''golem'' because it sounded weird to me. I think the dork''s mentioned them before but I was scared to ask him because he''d probably explain it in a weird way."

    Even though I''m awful at spelling, the dork always seems to know what I''m asking. He usually explains things in ways even I can understand¡­ except when he''s excited about the topic. I got the feeling that he''d be excited about the topic of golems, whatever they are.

    "O-oh," I realize something. "I-I remember now. He says that he has to avoid making his own golems because, um¡­ I can''t remember."

    "Probably because of how many laws he''s already breaking," Mr. Trey snorts. "Was that part of what you were thinking about earlier?"

    "Um¡­ I don''t think so?" I answer. "I remember¡­ that Luke was part of it. But mostly ''cause I was glad I could shower alone after swimming. And I think cars? Probably ''cause I was looking forward to bowling and the car ride is always nice. And sleeping, probably ''cause I''m tired. I don''t remember much else. I think ''golem'' was the only bit of my scrambled thoughts that wasn''t normal, but I don''t remember it all clearly. It was all scrambled up together. Sorry for being so weird, Mr. Trey."

    "Everyone''s a little weird," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "Did I hear ''golem''?" Roderick asks, and I open my eyes to see the friendly guard entering the living room.

    "Xander had a bunch of confusing thoughts a little bit ago," Mr. Trey tells him. "When he went to clean up after the pool. He remembers only a little bit of them and one of them was something about a golem, so he was asking me about them."

    "Xander has pretty good ears," Roderick says. "He might have overheard the walkie while you were eating dinner."

    That''s not him being psychic. I''ve asked him before about some of the stuff I overhead that was confusing me.

    "There was something involving a golem?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," Roderick answers. "Frank was telling us that one of his contacts mentioned that if you were planning on heading up to the city tonight, to hold off on it. Also to prepare for a possible lockdown here. A few golems were spotted roaming around on the way up there and the military was looking into the situation but hadn''t closed the road. There''s no confirmation of the presence of the golems so they want to verify first."

    "Um¡­ maybe that''s why," I say. "I hear them on the radios a lot. Like right now. I can hear two guards discussing a bird."

    "A bird?" Mr. Trey sits up and looks at Roderick. "My guards are using the walkies to discuss a bird?"

    "It''s been watching the house for the past few minutes," Roderick says. "Jack was asking if it''s okay to shoot it just in case and he was told to monitor it for a few more minutes while they look up the breed. Since there was a guard near the pool while you were eating dinner, Xander probably heard the mention of the golem sighting."

    "Well," Mr. Trey looks over at me. "Now we know why golems came to mind earlier, Xander. Roderick ¨C will it be an issue for us to go bowling?"

    "No," Roderick answers. "Though we''ll be updated if there is. Luke apparently went up to the city earlier and should be coming back tonight. Based on what Frank was telling us, he''ll still be returning regardless so he should still be here for Xander''s lessons tomorrow. Making a golem strong enough to stop Luke isn''t realistic for most."

    Oh. Maybe that''s why Luke and cars were in my thoughts, too. They were both part of that conversation I apparently overheard but already forgot about.

    As noisy as Luke is¡­ he could probably blast the golems into nothing.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says, then looks at me again. "Go ahead and get some rest, Xander."

    "Okay," I close my eyes again.

    Mr. Trey lies back down, then nudges me awake when it''s time to get ready to head to the bowling alley. Just in case I drop stuff again, Ms. Katie brings the food out of the car, though I still hold the containers on my lap for the ride.

    "The dads for the other boys invited me to bowl with them tonight," Mr. Trey tells me as he pulls into the parking lot for the bowling alley. "I know you''re used to bowling on your own, but I wanted to ask if you were okay with that or if you''d like for me to bowl with you tonight."

    He wants to know if I''m okay with him bowling with the dads for the other boys? Why would my opinion matter?

    "I-I don''t mind," I answer.

    "If I bowl with them," he says. "It''ll be later when we leave than when you normally finish. Are you okay with that?"

    "I-is that okay?" I ask as he parks.

    "Is what okay?"

    "M-me staying later?"

    "I''m asking because it is," Mr. Trey says.

    "Oh," my face heats up.

    That was stupid of me.

    "I want to know if you''re okay with staying later," he tells me. "I know you''ll be pretty tired by the end after the day you''ve had today."

    "I-I think I''ll be okay," I tell him.

    "Alright," he says. "Paul ¨C Mr. Thompson ¨C also told me that the boys usually have a sleepover after bowling during summer and might ask you if you want to come over. I know you''re worried about your nightmares, but also don''t want to upset them by saying ''no''. I''m also sure that ''no'' is only partially true for that and you''d like to go to a sleepover, am I right?"

    "I-is that bad?"

    "It''s not bad at all," he tells me. "If you were given the choice of going, would you go? That''s under the assumption that you''re allowed to go."

    Under the assumption¡­ I don''t know what he''s saying, but I think he''s asking if I''d go if I could and they ask. Is it bad that I kind of do want to experience a sleepover, and I''d be a little bit okay with it if it''s S.G. and his friends?

    "I-I don''t think so," I tell him. "I-I don''t want them to hear my nightmares and get mad at me. I like hanging out with them. Except when they''re being too noisy and moving too much."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "If they ask and you decide not to go, tell them you need to get permission first. This is true, and I''m not giving it unless they ask and you want to go. Once you tell them that, tell me that they asked you if you could have a sleepover, and I''ll know you''re wanting to not go but not tell them that. This way, it''s me saying no and not you, okay?"

    I hope I remember all of this. Mr. Trey is being nice and came up with a way where I don''t upset the others, which is really nice. I don''t know why he''d go through that, though. It''s not like they''ll want to be friends after they find out about my nightmares and all of my problems.

    "And if you change your mind," he says. "Ask me if you can go and I''ll know you want to and give permission. We can cancel your classes for tomorrow if you want to go to a sleepover. Having fun with friends is important. Alright?"

    He''d let me go if I asked? That surprises me lots and I''m not sure what to think. Especially with his insistence that the other boys are my friends. I don''t think he''d be happy if I argued with him, but how could we be friends? I''m worthless and stupid and a pathetic piece of shit and they''re¡­ not.

    "Okay," I nod.

    "Let''s go inside now," he says.

    Mr. Trey helps me carry our stuff inside, then rents the lane for only me, since he''ll be joining the dads once they arrive.

    "We brought you cobbler," I tell Lena once Mr. Trey finishes paying. "And ice cream. For the staff, not just you. Um. Peach flavor. I haven''t tried it yet."

    Mr. Trey gets the cobbler and ice cream Ms. Katie and I made for the staff out and hands it to Lena.

    "Thank you, Xander," she smiles. "The pie and ice cream last week was pretty good."

    "T-thank you," my face heats up again for some reason. "Um¡­ I messed up while helping make the cobbler."

    "You dropped an empty bowl," Mr. Trey says. "That''s not going to affect the taste."

    It might. I''m the one who did it, after all.

    "Come on," Mr. Trey says. "Let''s go put the stuff at the table, then we can order our food, okay? Thanks, Lena."

    "You''re welcome," she smiles again. "And thanks for the dessert, Xander!"

    "You''re welcome."

    Mr. Trey and I put the food we brought down at the table, then he takes me over to order food. Mr. Trey only orders something small, since he''ll order more when he joins the dads for bowling. Once that''s done, we return to Lane 20 and I change into the bowling shoes he bought me, then pick out a bowling ball and put my name into the computer. The first batch of food arrives before S.G. and his friends do, and they all greet me as they set up at the lane next to this one.

    "Dad said you''re playing with them tonight?" Sam asks Mr. Trey.

    "Yeah," Trey answers as he grabs his shoes. "Let me know when you''re done, alright, Xander?"

    "Yes, sir," I nod, then Mr. Trey leaves.

    "Did you bring dessert again?" S.G. asks while looking at the stuff on the table.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I wanted to, so Mr. Trey told me to call and ask if it was okay and they said it was. It''s peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream. Ms. Katie and I made them. But for after eating everything else."

    "Cool!" He says.

    I look at the ball which just rolled back. My first game is almost done. I look back to S.G. and his friends.

    "Um¡­ Donner?"

    "It''s Connor," he giggles.

    "Sorry," my face heats up.

    I''m so stupid.

    "What''s up?"

    "The fire elemental said ''no''."

    "What?" Connor looks confused.

    Did I mess up?

    "Um¡­ maybe it was someone else?" I ask. "I thought you said in the chat that you demanded to speak with the fire elemental making it hot."

    "I did!" He grins. "The heat wave''s over now, though!"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I asked the fire elemental if they wanted to talk to you. They said ''no''."

    "What fire elemental?" He asks.

    "The one making it hot," I tell him. "They stopped because they didn''t realize they were bothering people. Also because they went back home, I think. They left after I gave them the caramels, anyway."

    All four of them look confused. Am I not being clear? Stupid brain not letting me be clear.

    "Um¡­ there''s a fire elemental who likes caramels and wants them once a year," I try to make sure to explain it properly. "But I thought, um¡­ that they were a hallucination. So I didn''t give them the caramels today. They got bored while waiting and started playing with the weather. You saying that in chat made me realize that maybe they weren''t a hallucination. So I went and bought the caramels they like to give to them. I told them that you demanded to speak with them¡­ maybe they thought you were a reindeer? They said ''no''."

    I even showed them the message from Connor saying that he demanded to talk to them. The fire elemental asked me if I was asking them to or just me letting them know. When I said it was that I was just letting them know, they asked how powerful Connor was. I told them that Connor''s not a mage as far as I know so probably not very powerful. His mana levels aren''t very strong, at least.

    That was when they told me ''no'', so maybe it was because Connor''s not strong and wasn''t the person who brought them the caramels they wanted?

    I don''t know. I''m not going to try to understand the thoughts of an elemental. Or even how they have thoughts in the first place. That''s beyond my stupid brain''s ability to understand.

    "Wait, hold on," Connor shakes his head. "There was an actual fire elemental behind it?"

    "You didn''t know?"

    "No!" He laughs. "I was just joking around in the chat! I didn''t know there was actually a fire elemental making this hot!"

    "And he wants caramels as tribute each year?" Sam asks. "And you have to give them to him?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "But Mr. Trey said it won''t come out of my allowance anymore. He already gave me back the money I spent on them. And then scolded Mr. Quinn for not telling him about the elemental¡­ Oh! But they did let me take a picture. Well. Mr. Quinn took the picture. They only agreed to having one taken if I was in it."

    I pull out the phone and look for the picture, then show it to them. The elemental is just a mass of flames that''s eight feet tall and floating about a foot and a half off of the ground. For the picture, they made some partial whorls around them, but wouldn''t tell me why. I didn''t ask because I was scared.

    "That''s¡­ freaking awesome!" S.G. exclaims. "I mean, not the part where you have to give them a tribute every year, but there really was an elemental nearby!"

    "There''s a water elemental at a nearby lake," I tell him. "I know they''re not a hallucination ''cause they soaked me every time I went near there so I stopped going. The fire elemental lives further away."

    I wasn''t going to the lake to swim but because there''s a really cool cave near it that I wanted to explore. But the water elemental didn''t like me exploring the cave, I guess. It was better to stop trying than to risk making an elemental mad.

    "Hey," Isaac giggles as he looks at the others. "Think our dads would let us check out that lake and see if the elemental will shoot us with water?"

    "Please don''t anger the elemental," I say. "He might get really mad."

    "Which is why the dads won''t let us," Sam giggles. "And I''m betting you won''t tell us which lake, either."

    "I won''t," I shake my head. "I don''t want him getting mad."

    Especially since he''d probably know it was me who told them where to find him, then come after me for doing that.

    "We won''t!" S.G. says. "Don''t worry, Xander! Guys! Let''s get playing!"

    I''m really glad they dropped the topic because I was getting uncomfortable and didn''t know how to tell them. We do talk more as we bowl and eat, and they invite me to the barbecue next Tuesday again. That''s when I find out that next Tuesday is Interception Day, the Fourth of July holiday. It''s a big holiday with lots of stuff going on, and I think it''s to celebrate the actual founding of the country.

    Mr. Trey probably has plans for us for that, so that''s what I tell them when they invite me. Interception Day is the celebration of when a demonic force trying to break into Earth was intercepted and defeated by the joint forces of the US and Canada, so most people do stuff for it. They even do stuff for it at the boys'' home.

    Even the dork does stuff for it, and he observes nearly no holiday. I prefer staying where it''s quiet, though.

    "Hey, Xander!" S.G. says when I finish bowling for the night and start changing my shoes. "We''re having a sleepover at Isaac''s tonight. Want to come? The dads already said it''s okay as long as you want to and Mr. Caldwell says you can go!"

    Mr. Caldwell was right about them asking me. But I don''t want to rely on him for saying "no" to them, if I can find a way to do it on my own without making them mad. Mr. Caldwell would probably be upset if I used him as a way to tell people "no", and I want to try doing stuff like this on my own, too. Figuring out how to do something would make me less stupid, right?

    But how can I refuse on my own without making them mad? This is hard.

    "Um¡­ what do you do in a sleepover?" I ask. "I-I''ve never been to one that I can remember."

    "We stay up really late and play lots of games," Isaac tells me. "When we''re at Sam''s for it, we go swimming in his pool, too."

    "And eat lots of junk food," Sam adds. "And sometimes do karaoke."

    "And sometimes do experiments that make the dads shake their heads and tell us to clean it up," Connor adds. "Though as long as we can get it cleaned up easily, no one gets into trouble."

    "Or if we don''t have to go to the hospital," Sam giggles.

    I''m not sure I want to know what happened with an experiment that put one of them in the hospital. None of them are a Lumaria King like the dork so they can''t heal as fast.

    "But we wouldn''t do something like that with you," S.G. adds. "Since we know you wouldn''t like it and our sleepovers are group things. So it''s always stuff we all want to do."

    They decide on what to do based on what everyone wants? But if I don''t want to do something that they all want to do, they''d probably get mad at me and not want to hang out anymore. Or just do it anyway.

    At least I know how to say "no" now without upsetting them. Maybe.

    "Oh," I say. "Um. That''s a lot more than I thought. I thought it was just sleeping¡­ and um¡­ I''m really tired. I''m probably going to fall asleep on the ride home. So I would just sleep through the sleepover. Sorry."

    "Maybe next time!" S.G. says. "You do look really sleepy, but we wanted to ask just in case! Have a good night!"

    "Oh!" Connor exclaims. "And the laser tag''s gonna be this Sunday if you want to come! We''ll be meeting there at three-thirty. Just let us know before then if you''re coming!"

    "Um¡­ okay," I nod. "I-I''ll try to remember to do that. Have a good night."

    They all wish me a good night, then I grab the bag, containers, and bowling shoes, and go to meet Mr. Caldwell.

    "Hey, Xander," Mr. Caldwell says. "Did you have fun bowling?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod.

    "We have a little bit more to our game," he says. "If you want to rejoin the others until I''m done, you can."

    "I''m really sleepy," I tell him. "Can I sit here and wait?"

    "Sure," he says. "Did you have fun hanging out with them?"

    "Yeah," I put the stuff on the empty table he gestured to, then climb onto a chair. "They asked me if I wanted to go to a sleepover, but I''m really sleepy so I told them I''d just sleep through it. They said ''maybe next time''. And then invited me to do laser tag with them on Sunday. Can I put my head down and close my eyes? I''ll try not to fall asleep."

    "Go ahead," Mr. Trey chuckles. "You''ve had a tiring day."

 Chapter 029

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" I scream as loud as I can manage, though it doesn''t seem as if my magic is activating for it. That''s probably a good thing, but also probably because it''s not the same type of screaming as when I have a nightmare. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

    There was so much screaming since I entered this room that I''m out of breath now and find myself panting as I clutch Trenton closer to my chest as I press my face against his head. This is scary. But I feel calmer now than I did before coming in here to scream as much I could. The doctor was right that it could help.

    How did that work? It''s like how Mr. Trey broke my panic the other day. I don''t understand how it works.

    I''m probably not going to understand it and it''s not related to science or magic, so the dork probably won''t know. He''s not interested in much else apart from that kind of stuff and food. I think that that means there''s no reason for me to worry about it, especially since it worked.

    So I go to the door of the room and press a button on a small gap between the cushions of the door and the wall. A moment later, the door is opened by the doctor.

    "Do you feel calmer now?" He asks.

    I nod.

    "Alright," he says. "Come on this way."

    The doctor takes me to another room, which has the big scanning machine in it. Mr. Trey is already in here, sitting on a chair by one wall. Ms. Katie is here, too. I asked Mr. Trey if that was okay and he said it was, so she came with us for the appointment. There''s a backpack sitting on the seat beside Mr. Trey, opposite the side of him from Ms. Katie.

    "Do you see this machine?" The doctor asks me as he gestures to the massive device.

    The machine has a strange bed to lie down on and a giant, thick ring device at one end of the bed. Some computers are attached to it as well at the end with the big ring.

    I nod.

    "This is the scanning machine," the doctor tells me. "You''ll have to lie down on the bed there. We put down a pillow so that you''ll be a little bit more comfortable. It looks thin, but I promise that it''s soft and fluffy. Do you want to feel it?"

    I nod.

    "Go ahead," he says.

    I walk over to the machine and reach out to touch the pillow. It really is soft and feels fluffy despite looking like a pillow that''s been well-used, like the one I had at the boys'' home.

    "There''s no magic in it," the doctor tells me. "Since that would affect the scans. But it''s stuffed with a special blend of materials that remain soft and fluffy even when the pillow isn''t as thick as a normal one. Does the pillowcase feel alright to you?"

    I nod.

    "Are you sure?" He asks. "We do have a few varieties and can try a different one if it''s not comfortable."

    I nod. The pillowcase really does feel alright.

    "Is that a yes that you''re sure?" He asks, and I nod. "Alright. Can you feel the bed as well? It''s not going to be as soft as the pillow, but it''s still soft. The covering is made from the same material as the pillowcase. Do you think you''ll be okay on it?"

    I nod. It''s not the bed that I''m worried about.

    "You''ve had MRIs in the past," the doctor says. "Do you remember them?"

    I nod, starting to feel scared again.

    "For them," he says. "You had to remain perfectly still for a very long time, with short breaks. This machine is going to move over your head just like with the ones you might have had before. However, you don''t have to be as still. We do ask that you try not to move your head very much, but it''s okay to move it a little. We''ll also only do this in five-minute sessions, so you can get up and move if you want to. Okay?"

    I nod.

    "I''m sure you''ll notice we didn''t have you change," he says. "This is a magitech device, so it works a little bit differently than an MRI scanner. Since we''re only scanning your head, there isn''t much room for interference. That means you can still hold your bear for the scan, too. Trey told me his name is Trenton. Is that right?"

    I nod.

    "Why don''t you take a seat on the bed?" He asks.

    I sit on the bed.

    "Alright," the doctor says. "What''s going to happen when the scan is running is this big ring is going to move forward and around your head. Trey said you can sense magic, is that right?" I nod. "You''ll probably sense it working, then. Try not to use any magic of your own. What the machine does it is uses magic to scan your brain, as well as any magic that''s in there."

    "Magic that''s in there?" Mr. Trey asks. "There shouldn''t be any, though. The accident was eight years ago and was just a car accident. I just wanted a more thorough scan so we can see what''s going on and find out how it can be treated, if not with science then with magic."

    "Maybe," the doctor looks at him. "But there''s always a possibility that there might be something magic involved, which can negatively impact treatment if we don''t find it beforehand. Your insurance company already cleared the full scan, including the one for magic. It''s covered in full by your plan."

    Mr. Trey doesn''t look happy.

    "How could something magic be in his brain?" Mr. Trey asks. "And how would it interfere?"

    "Everyone has some of their own magic in their brain," the doctor says. "Their magical energy is spread in an even layer throughout their body. However, any number of things could cause other magics to end up in someone, even without their awareness of it. There''s often a small amount of magic residue in a person at any given point in time. This device can''t read mana directly, but it can read other forms of magic, including residue.

    "Since Xander received the damage when he was four," the doctor says. "It''s unusual that he''d have the same amount of damage in every annual scan he''s had when he''s nearing thirteen. New tissue that grew should have at least partially healthy at the very least. There may be something magic inhibiting his healing. If a ghost happened to be passing through him when he was impacted, then some of its energies might have imprinted into the wound. We would need to purge those before we could begin a treatment. Assuming that the level of damage picked up by our scans is something we can treat."

    "How likely is that?" Mr. Trey asks. "The scans picking up something new? I know magitech scans are supposed to be more detailed, but I honestly don''t know much the difference. I deal mainly in normal tech."

    "We can get a three-dimensional image, for starters," the doctor tells him. "Allowing us to look at each area of the brain more clearly. Rather than flat images from different angles outside of it. We can also zoom in more thoroughly and look into the brain in different ways, allowing us to more accurately see the damage. Then there''s also the matter of reading magical residues and detecting magic, which an MRI wouldn''t be able to do.

    "If you''re worried about us doing a more complete scan than initially asked," the doctor continues. "Your insurance won''t change because of it. We explained the same thing I did a minute ago to you ¨C that it''s unusual his brain isn''t growing healthy tissue and there may be something magic involved ¨C and they cleared for the more thorough scan."

    Mr. Trey still looks unhappy.

    "There is something magic going on," the doctor says. "If the scans I received are to be believed. Xander shouldn''t be alive based on how damaged his brain is. This may even let us know what."

    Mr. Trey still looks unhappy, but tells the doctor to begin. Good. I already don''t want to be here any longer.

    "Go ahead and lie down," the doctor tells me. "If you want to keep your eyes open, you can."

    I want to keep my eyes open, so I do even after lying down. The doctor then counts down from five to when he turns on the machine, and the ring moves forward just like he said it would. Once it''s over my head, I can feel magic starting to flow through it.

    I start to open my mouth for some reason, but quickly close it. The dork always says not to do that when he''s scanning me with his devices. I''m not sure why he doesn''t want me to, but the doctor probably won''t be happy if I do it here, too.

    The doctor runs five separate scans, with a one-minute break between each.

    "Alright," the doctor says. "I''m done doing the scans now, Xander. We''re going to move into another room. You did very good for this. I''ve had to do scans on plenty of children and adults who couldn''t stay still as well as you did. That was a good job, Xander."

    "Come on," Mr. Trey beckons to me. "Let''s head to the other room now."

    I follow Mr. Trey, Ms. Katie, and the doctor to the other room, which has some sort of table in the middle of it and several chairs against the wall. Mr. Trey has me sit down, then he opens up the backpack and pulls out a container and a bottle of milk with a refrigeration sleeve on it. The box has a mixture of cookies (none with chocolate).

    "Go ahead," Mr. Trey tells me as the doctor does something to the table.

    Light magic weaves together above the table, creating the illusion of a brain over it. The dork has a similar table, but his is faster, cooler, and usually used to display cool things like wolves and dragons and griffins. When he hasn''t accidentally messed it up and caused all of the light magics to weave wrong.

    "This is what a healthy twelve-year-old boy''s brain should look like," the doctor tells Mr. Trey as I open up the box. Ms. Katie has to help me with the milk, though. My hands don''t want to grip it right. "And this is what Xander''s brain looks like."

    A second brain that doesn''t look very happy forms above the table. Lots of parts of it are dark, and it''s misshapen as well.

    "That is¡­ pretty much a match for the MRI scans before," the doctor says as he gestures, making the brain turn and spin and flip.

    I can''t understand much of what the doctor says after that so I focus on the cookies and milk. Eventually, though, the doctor changes the light magic to show the machine''s readout from the scans for magic. There are a bunch of floating numbers and words and lines floating above the table now, but I don''t understand what they''re about.

    "Here," Ms. Katie opens up a container of grapes and then one of dip, and hands them to me.

    I accept them and start eating them as I watch the doctor. He keeps making adjustments and the light-brain flickers several times.

    "Hm," the doctor frowns. "Nothing is showing up on the magic-reading scans. There''s no residue or magic in his brain or head other than his own."

    "His own?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Everyone has a little bit of magic in their brain," the doctor tells him. "Our minds are part of souls rather than our brains, and there''s a bit of magic in its connection to the brain. Because of that, the scan is set to detect his own magic signature and then filter it out for the results. We can turn on the scans for his magic if needed, which is why we still ask that patients don''t use any while being scanned."

    "If they have an innate magic, will that affect it?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Like a mind mage?" The doctor asks. "They mess with scans of magic in their brain when including their own magic. If Xander''s one, it doesn''t matter much. We don''t need to look at the scans with his magic included. If his own magic was inhibiting things, I would have been able to tell. Here."

    The doctor changes the light-brain setting again, though it doesn''t look any different, then he zooms in on a part and starts talking using a bunch of words I don''t understand. Ms. Katie opens up a container with celery slices in it and another with peanut butter, then hands them to me.

    "Do you have ideas for treatment?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Well¡­" the doctor looks at me.

    "I''ll be sharing anything you say with him," Mr. Trey says. "He wants to hear it, too. Right, Xander?"

    I nod. I really want to find out what treatment options for my brain there are, even if it''s a doctor saying them.

    The doctor frowns a little, but nods.

    "None."

    "What?" Mr. Trey asks. "What do you mean, ''none''?"

    "The damage to his brain is too severe," the doctor says. "Even when we look deep into his brain, the damage is extensive. If the damage wasn''t this bad, then we could probably at least restore some of his brain over the next ten years. The problem comes from the fact that his brain is so severely damaged, it shouldn''t be functional at all. I don''t think even a Lumaria King outside of Adrian King himself could recover from this. There is simply no healing magic potent enough to restore a brain that''s so filled with damage and atrophy. I do know the Lumaria Medical Group is trying to research more potent healing magics, but even they haven''t managed it yet."

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    I knew it. I''m too worthless to save.

    "Can you give an estimate on how long he has left?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Negative eight years," the doctor answers. "Xander quite literally shouldn''t be alive."

    "That can''t be right," Mr. Trey says. "I know that''s what it looks like, but he is alive. And you can''t find any magic in his brain. Something isn''t adding up here. Either there''s magic at work or every scan for the past eight years has been wrong about the damage to his brain. Can you refer us to a specialist?"

    "I am the specialist," the doctor says. "This is Lumaria Medical. I''m specialized enough to treat Lumaria Kings and I haven''t seen something like this for one of them. Even they couldn''t survive like this."

    "He is alive, though," Mr. Trey says. "There''s got to be something that can be done. You said that there''s a treatment that could restore at least part of his brain over the next ten years. Could we try that?"

    "The problem here," the doctor says. "Is that entire sections of his brain are dead. We need at least part of that section alive to heal it with magic. Once the functions are gone, they''re gone."

    "Xander still has them," Mr. Trey says. "The only issues he has are grip problems and struggles with his memory. That means there might be some parts still alive in the sections that control them, right? Minute enough even your scans can''t pick up? I know it doesn''t make scientific sense, but Xander is alive. Something magic is already going on."

    "It''s pretzels coated in white chocolate," Ms. Katie whispers when I give her a confused look at the container with stick-like candies that have a white coating, some with sprinkles and some with butterscotch chips on them. "I don''t know if you''ll like them but I made them while you were in classes earlier."

    I nod, then look at the doctor and Mr. Trey again. The doctor seems to be thinking about something.

    "The only treatment for this that might work," the doctor says. "Requires an ingredient that only Adrian King himself knows how to acquire. It comes at a steep cost and your insurance won''t cover it. No insurance will. And yes, it''s the treatment that could potentially heal a part of the brain over ten years."

    "How much?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Mr. Trey starts arguing with the doctor over the price and the options, and all I can really understand is that it would be extremely expensive. Any treatment is to expensive for someone as worthless as me, yet Mr. Trey seems intent on finding something he can afford.

    "That would normally work," the doctor tells Mr. Trey. "Except look here," he gestures to something on the light-brain. "Most of his brain is still the four-year-old''s brain. Not a twelve-year-old''s brain. All of the parts that were killed in the car accident never grew new tissue, and the parts that still functioned only grew new tissue for those parts.

    "Even if we treated him with that," the doctor continues. "It would only restore the four-year-old''s brain tissue rather than let it grow to match the twelve-year-old brain he should have. There''s a very good chance that whatever it is that''s keeping him alive won''t be able to if his brain is a mix of two age types with such a vast difference in how they work. A four-year-old has a very different brain than a twelve-year-old."

    The doctor then goes on to describe stuff about hormones and electricity (I think that''s the word he''s using) and something about snapping, I think? It''s hard for me to understand and Ms. Katie distracts me with lemon cookies and more milk.

    What I do understand is that I''m fucked. Something that even their magic scans can''t detect is keeping me alive and they can''t heal me without a treatment that Mr. Trey can''t afford and his insurance won''t cover. I didn''t even know there was medical stuff that rich people can''t afford.

    The dork probably knows what''s keeping me alive, but getting an answer out of him wouldn''t be easy. He''d probably just say it''s the strength of my will, which is neither medically nor magically possible.

    I looked it up.

    The appointment eventually comes to an end, with Mr. Trey looking much less happy than he did going in. I think the doctor angered him, but it''s because of me which means I''m really the reason he''s mad. Is this where he sends me back to the boys'' home?

    "Keep your chin up, Xander," Mr. Trey says as we leave the hospital. The air out here still smells weird, just like inside the hospital. "I wanted to try the best medical group in the country first, but there are others out there. They aren''t as good, but maybe another has an option the Lumaria Group''s doctors don''t know. I can''t get an appointment for one of them sooner than around two weeks from now. Just hang in there, okay?"

    He''s not sending me back to the boys'' home even though I''m broken beyond repair? That''s confusing¡­ but I nod.

    "And Xander?" Mr. Trey asks as we reach the borrowed car. "You did a very good job being brave in the hospital and not freaking out. Getting to let out some screams helped, huh?"

    I nod a little. I don''t know why screaming helped me, or why the doctor even thought it might, but it did help me feel calmer. I was still scared, but my body wasn''t trying to make me run away anymore.

    Mr. Trey helps me into the borrowed car, then he opens up the cooler that he''d brought with us and pulls something out of it. A slice of cheesecake that looks like the kind the Wolf''s Dragon makes that I like.

    "I already bought the cheesecake," he tells me. "You can have this as we drive back to the gate location."

    We came to the city with the hospital by using a teleport gate. They''re really expensive and set up at specific locations, but Mr. Trey was apparently owed a favor by a guy who knew a guy who knew a woman, and she got us the trip here and back for free. I don''t know what kind of favor he was owed, but it must have been huge. Luke mentioned that even his family can usually only manage discounted rates with their connections when he was telling me about his trip.

    The teleport gate is really a giant circle of stones on the ground that have so much magic etched into them, they glow. I bet the dork could make one that doesn''t glow, but he kind of teleports on his own so he probably wouldn''t care to make a teleport gate.

    We walk onto the gate once the staff gives us the okay to do so, then the outside of the ring begins to glow brighter and a wall of light flares up around us. When it fades away, we''re at the center back in the city north of Dragon of Falls.

    "Hi, Xander!" A cheerful voice greets me. "You got to use a teleport gate? Oh, hey, it looks like Trey and Katie are sick, get them the gate sickness medicine."

    A staff member is already moving over to give Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie gate sickness medicine, though I don''t need any because I''m not feeling sick from it. In fact, I''m feeling a little bit better. That cheesecake was extra good. And the lemonade that I washed it down with had the special flavor in it, so I think it was made with magic lemons and magic sugar.

    What''s Luke doing here? And why''s he''s examining a giant machine that was pulled out of the wall? I remember seeing a panel where the hole is when we were here last time, so I think the machine was in the wall. The machine is absolutely massive, too. I bet fifty people could fit inside of it. Maybe if they were smushed up, but they''d still fit.

    "I was right," Luke looks at the man who''s standing close to him. "It''s something about the connection between these two cities. There was a massive energy drain for this activation."

    "There wasn''t for any other," the man with him says as I step off of the gate. "The way the gate functions, the drain should be consistent. If there''s a change for one, there should be a change for all."

    "Hey," Luke says. "I''m just here to look into the drain itself and see what''s causing it. You said you already had the gate itself examined and there''s nothing wrong with it, so you thought it might be in the generator. The generator just says it was asked for more power. I''ve already done a thorough examination of the generator, too. It''s functioning as it should be. That means that the drain came from the gate, not from the generator doing something wonky."

    "How could you have done an examination so quickly?" The man asks.

    "I literally helped build this machine," Luke tells him. "I helped create its energy matrices. I know everywhere to look to check for a potential power drain. I can also sense electricity and other forms of energy and was using that sense when you activated the gate. The excess energy the generator was outputting went straight into the gate without issue. Something in the gate consumed it like crazy. It wasn''t even dissipating, it was straight-up being used to fuel the teleport. And I don''t know spatial magics or enchants, so I can''t help you there. You''ll need a better expert for the gate. I could be hanging out with some awesome guys ¨C one of whom is literally supposed to be leaving to go back home in a few hours and my time with him has been limited since his dad didn''t let him have sleepovers and I''m busy on weekday mornings ¨C right now because you weren''t able to tell that the power drain is in the gate itself."

    Luke rambled a bit, but it sounded like he''s really not annoyed at having his mornings taken up by going to classes with me. He assured me that he wasn''t when he told me about Tyler on Tuesday, but I wasn''t too sure. It sounds more like he''s upset with having been called out here to examine the big machine than having to go to classes with me.

    But I could be wrong. Maybe if Luke talked more, I could know? I don''t like listening to that, though. He talks too much.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says, distracting me from Luke''s talking. "Katie and I are feeling better now. You ready to head home?"

    I nod.

    "Hold on," Luke tells the man he''s talking to. "Bye, Xander! See you Monday!"

    I return his wave, then follow Mr. Trey out of the building and to his SUV. Ms. Katie sits up front with him, though Mr. Trey tells me I can eat more of the cheesecake if I want. And have more of the lemonade. When I open up the cooler, I find that it has three of the red-white-and-blue cheesecakes from the Wolf''s Dragon.

    Didn''t he say he''d buy me one? He bought three¡­

    I only eat the rest of the one he took a slice from because I was told only one, then doze off by accident because of how long the drive is. Mr. Trey wakes me when we arrive, then asks if I want to watch something in the theater while we eat dinner. It''s already starting to get late, and is later than we normally eat dinner at.

    Though I don''t know why Mr. Trey is suggesting dinner in the theater, I like the idea of it. I give him a nod, so he hands the cooler to Ms. Katie and lets her know we''ll be in the theater.

    As we enter, the phone Mr. Trey lets me use pings for a text. While eating the cheesecake, I asked the dork if he knew about what could cause a teleport gate to have an extra drain on its power.

    Happy Hungry Hunter: The gate that you were using? I looked it up. It only occurred on the two trips you were on. I took a look at the cameras for the chamber and it seems you had your mouth open during both trips. That was the case.

    How could me having my mouth open cause a power drain in a spell?

    "I''m going to guess the dork said something weird again?" Mr. Trey asks, and I look up at him, a little startled. How did he know? "You get a certain look on your face when you''re reading a text from him that''s a bit on the weird side."

    Oh.

    "You can get some snacks ready if you want," Mr. Trey says. "I was thinking we could order pizza for dinner tonight. How would you like that?"

    I''d like that very much, but only depending on the pizza.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts near the end of Xander''s PoV

    I can''t believe how smooth things are running on my computer now. Aunt Rachel took me to the store yesterday to buy the parts I needed to perform the upgrades I wanted for it, even covering part of the costs! She also bought me some extra stuff, like a proper microphone and good-quality headphones, to make playing with my gaming friends even easier.

    Though everything is ready to go, with the game downloaded and other stuff setup, I want to get some water before I start. I get up and leave my room but before I reach the end of the hall, I hear my aunt''s voice and it sounds really stern.

    "-thirteen!" She says. "He needs more than ramen, potatoes, and milk! What were you thinking with that order?"

    She knew that I''d lied about where those came from? And didn''t say anything? I stop walking. Maybe I''m not supposed to hear her on the phone with my parents. She probably thinks I''m going to be on my computer for awhile since she knows I was setting it up and probably wanted to play with my friends.

    "Wasn''t that enough?" Mom asks.

    Wait. My parents are back? That''s not what she sounds like over speakerphone so she''s definitely here.

    "No!" Aunt Rachel exclaims. "It''s nowhere near enough! First, what would he eat for breakfast? Ramen? Lunch? Also ramen? Dinner? Also ramen? That''s not a healthy diet! And the potatoes? What was going to do, eat nothing but potatoes? It''s all starches! What about other vegetables? Or fruit? Or meat? Sig''s a growing boy and he needs a lot of food! I ordered us pizzas for dinner and he ate half of one by himself. That''s not including the salad I made sure he had with it or the bread sticks and wings he also had. His lunch today was four hot dogs, a bowl of chips, and an apple! He had eight pancakes and six strips of bacon for breakfast! He''s an active boy who''s growing and using magic regularly. How do you not know what your own son needs to eat?"

    "He usually lets us know if it''s not enough," Dad tells her. "And we pay him back for what he buys."

    "I have receipts from the grocery trips I took to feed him," Aunt Rachel says. "You''ll be paying me back for every penny. It excludes anything outside of the normal, like me treating him to things. Also, he needs to go clothes shopping, so please make sure that happens in the next week. And take him with you. The clothes need to actually fit him and be a kind he likes."

    "We''ll put it on the schedule," Mom says.

    "Good," Aunt Rachel says. "And make sure grocery shopping happens soon. There''s almost no food left. And I made a down payment on a house this morning, so I''ll be moving once everything gets approved, which should be in the next week."

    "What''s in the next week?" I decide to feign ignorance as I walk into the living room.

    "Hey, Sig," Aunt Rachel pulls me in for a hug as I approach her and my parents, whose suitcases are still in the room. She ambushed them as soon as they arrived! That''s awesome! "The inspection for the house should be on Monday or Wednesday and as long as it passes, I can move in the next day, so I''ll probably move in on Wednesday or Thursday."

    "That fast?" I ask. "Really?"

    "Really," she ruffles my hair. "You can help me clean up the yards if you want."

    "Sure!" I answer. "Oh! I''m gonna go play soon, just getting something to drink first."

    "Alright," she gives me a squeeze. "Have fun."

    I go to the kitchen and fill a glass with water, then return to my room and sit at my desk, pulling on my headphones before booting up the game. Upon logging in, I start changing my keybinds to a more comfortable setup, then join the party group chat.

    "Helphelphelp Sig!" Sara exclaims. "I''m being shittalked and I don''t want to out myself!"

    "Got you," I log out and then switch to my main account before logging back in and rejoining the group chat. "Where you at?"

    "At the entrance of the Labyrinth of the Eternal Flame!" She exclaims. "Jack really had to go poo and Grace hasn''t logged in yet! Also, your voice is coming in crisp and clear."

    "My aunt bought me a new microphone!" I tell her as I start the teleport. "And I got the new graphics card and installed it, too. Things are awesome! Okay, gonna talk in public."

    They really are shittalking her.

    "-almost like you''re trying to be a clich¨¦," one of the guys there says. "How often are you the damsel in distress?"

    "Why?" I make sure the voice filter is on. "I''ve seen her fight. She doesn''t really need rescuing. Maybe the monsters she''s fighting do, though. Kind of felt sorry for them."

    The three of them are completely silent, probably in shock at seeing the name floating above the fairy rogue''s head. Well-known as being the physically-weakest character species and also a difficult class to play until it''s high-level. And the number floating beside my character''s name is 160, which is the current cap.

    Not that they''re even noticing the number. [TheBladeFairy] is a well-known user that appeared around four months ago and is considered one of the ten top members of the server, four of whom appeared as newbies around that time. All playing free, all doing so casually.

    Also all reaching the heights with absurd ease. And using voice filters to speak in public.

    We deliberately picked awful mashups for early game and are among the few who stuck with it until the end. We''re all also actually pretty damn good at combat when we''re serious. Our other accounts ¨C like the elf archer Sara''s on right now ¨C are just for fun. Flaunting our real skills doesn''t happen often since we play on our mains mostly for the challenge, and our alts just for fun.

    I do feel bad for besting that streamer last month, though¡­

    "''Sup?" I ask. "Were you guys wanting to recruit her for your team?"

    I equip my character''s main weapons, a pair of daggers.

    "Wanna look at my daggers?"

    "Uh¡­ no," the one who was talking when I arrived says. "We''re, uh¡­ just passing through. Bye."

    The three of them run off and Sara starts laughing into the party chat.

    "I am your doom," I say in a deeper voice into the party chat, the voice filter making it sound even deeper than that."

    "That was ridiculous," Sara says. "They weren''t even doing a good job at shittalking! I thought about switching to my goddess bow and seeing how good they were at PvP but then you popped on."

    Damn! That would have been fun to watch!

    "Let me switch back over," I laugh, then quickly do that. By the time I''m back, Grace has logged on and Jack''s returned from his bathroom break. "Hey, guys! We doing party stuff tonight?"

    "Nah," Sara says. "I need to run this dungeon a few times and I know you all hate it."

    "Gonna grind out more hides," Jack says. "Want to join me?"

    "Sure!" I answer. "What kind?"

    I join Jack for the hide grind, though we remain in the party chat with Sara and Grace. After a bit, the four of us meet up to hunt high-level kobolds in a forest before I log off to head to bed.

    As I change for bed and climb into it, I can''t help but hope that Aunt Rachel lets me come over a lot once her new house is ready.

 Chapter 030

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    Naturally, the blueberry cinnamon rolls I baked have come out perfect. Unfortunately, that means that it has also drawn out of bed both of my foster fathers and all three of my brothers.

    I ignore them as I dump the icing I made on top, then levitate the glass casserole dish which I baked them in, the plate of sausage links and scrambled eggs, the bottle of maple syrup, the glass of orange juice, and the pitcher of orange juice as I walk to my room. If they want breakfast, they can do something for themselves. I am a hungry boy and I will eat all of the food I made.

    Once in my room, I give the sausages and eggs a heavy coating of syrup, then dig into my breakfast as I turn on my computer. Designed by me, it loads immediately and logs in instantly upon recognizing me.

    "Greyson," Cal, my sixteen-year-old brother, knocks on my door. "That was twelve cinnamon rolls. And an entire carton of eggs. And I''m pretty sure three packages of breakfast sausage. And you took the syrup."

    These cinnamon rolls would have tasted better if I added bananas to them. At least I remembered to use the magic butter, cinnamon, and sugar. Those give it a superior flavor, even if the rest lacks it.

    "Greyson!" Cal knocks again after trying the knob and finding it locked. "Come on, Greyson! You need to share with the rest of us!"

    "PAPA!" Henry, my twin brother, yells. "GREYSON''S BEING GREEDY WITH FOOD AGAIN!"

    "Leave it," Dad says.

    "But it''s a lot of food!" Henry whines. "And it smells good!"

    "How come Greyson always gets to do stuff like that?" Travis, my thirteen-year-old brother, asks. "We never get to splurge."

    He doesn''t sound too good. Is he coming down with something?

    "Greyson will actually eat all of that," Dad says. "Go on out to the living room, your papa''s making something for the rest of us."

    "But Greyson-" Travis starts.

    "Greyson''s in his weird eat-a-lot phase," Dad says. "Just go. Papa''s making something for us."

    Henry and Travis complain, but they leave the hall.

    "You know he''s going to get worse once puberty hits, don''t you?" Cal asks.

    "According to my calculations," I say. "I began the first stages of puberty one year, two months, sixteen days, nine hours, fourteen minutes, and eighteen seconds ago. Give or take eight minutes and three seconds."

    I began puberty quite early for a boy, at only nine years of age.

    "Okay, Greyson, we''ve told you before about magically projecting your voice into the hall to talk with us," Dad says.

    "I installed a speaker on my door and am using that."

    "Okay, remove the speaker," Dad says. "The whole purpose of that was so that you''d actually talk to us face-to-face. Stop looking for loopholes."

    Seeking out loopholes is essential to the function of society, as it allows you to know what you can do and allows those in charge to know what to fix.

    "How would you even calculate when you began puberty?" Cal asks, absolute confusion in his voice and mind.

    "I did so via monitoring various mental and physiological changes," I answer. "Among other things. The rate of growth compared to the norm, shifts in my thought processes, shifts in how I observe things, shifts in what I observe, shifts in how I draw conclusions, any changes which my body began to undergo, the chemical shifts in my brain compared to those of an ordinary boy and those undergoing puberty, alterations to-"

    "We get it, Greyson," Dad says. "You''re making stuff up. It''s Saturday, so Cal and I need to head out soon to get more ingredients for the restaurant. Make sure to bring the dishes out once you''ve finished."

    "Will do."

    Dad and Cal leave, and I finish eating breakfast while surfing the net. Once I finish, I turn off my computer and stack my dishes, then head to my closet to pick out an outfit for today. As I do that, however, I realize that my pajamas are fitting me a little bit tighter than I remember, and the sleeves don''t reach as close to my elbows as they used to. Nor do the pants reach all the way down to my ankles.

    Hm¡­

    I begin trying on various outfits and find that they''ve all lost fit for me. It appears I hit another growth spurt without realizing it, and put on an extra layer of muscle to boot. Well, that''s only natural. I am undergoing puberty and also maintain physical training to ensure that I am able to keep in shape and skilled with martial arts, just in case.

    The fact that having a six-pack at only ten makes my classmates jealous is only a perk, and one which is irrelevant during the summer. None of them are around to see.

    I did push myself a little extra hard today by accident, so my body''s feeling extra-sore and I don''t want to wear something too tight. There''s a pair of black shorts and a light tan sleeveless that are loose enough to be comfortable, so I slip those on before slipping on my black, no-show socks and my brown-and-grey sneakers with griffin patterns on their sides.

    At least my shoes still fit fine.

    Dressed, I use the mirror on the back of my closet door to style my sandy-blond hair. The outfit also looks nice with my blue-green eyes, so there''s no clashing there. Making sure it works with my eyes is important because there''s some sort of clash, then the outfit looks awful. I must always look good to impress the gods.

    My hair fixed and outfit examined, I double-snap and point at the mirror, making finger guns. I look cool.

    Dressed and mostly ready for the day, I grab my brown backpack and pull it on, then my wallet, phone, keys, gum, peppermints, and marbles and slip them into my pockets. After a few moments of consideration, I also add some paperclips.

    One never knows what they might need a paperclip for.

    I leave my room and after putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I walk over to the entrance of the house, where there''s a wooden stand set up. Several ceramic plates sit on it, each with various items on it, like wallets and keys. Their sizes are all the same, but they have differing patterns on them. Travis made them in art class last year and he''s turned out to be quite decent at stuff like that.

    On the dish with a griffin pattern is a plain leather wallet. I open it up and find fifty twenty-dollar bills inside. Those are removed and slipped into my wallet while the ugly leather one is dropped back onto the griffin plate. That should be sufficient for me to buy more clothes.

    I exit the house and slip out of the perception of others while also adjusting my personal time. The way this spell works allows me to move around faster than others without them noticing a blur as I move past them. Because my own personal time has shifted, nothing is a blur to me as I move and I am fully able to view my surroundings.

    This allows me to reach the clothing store without issue and though it technically took me awhile to reach, it also took me only a few minutes. Even to me, it only felt as if a few minutes passed.

    Let my brothers cast spells like this and then complain about how much I eat.

    Upon arrival at the clothing store, I cancel my walking spell, then grab a shopping cart and walk to the boys'' section to begin my selections.

    "That''s quite a lot there," the employee at the changing room says when I approach.

    "I am in need of new clothes," I tell her as I pull off my backpack and set it on one of the chairs here. "And the wallet fairy left me a lot of money. I have already sectioned things out into groups of eight to try on."

    They have an eight-item maximum for the changing rooms.

    "Please avoid touching my backpack," I tell her. "It has been enchanted to shock anyone who touches it who is not either me or a god."

    I flick my left wrist and a paper appears in it, and I set the paper down. That, too, contains a notice about not touching the backpack and it having a shock enchantment on it.

    Dad''s lawyer said it was necessary to do that if I wasn''t going to take the enchantment off. It''s not my fault some idiot tried to steal a backpack. I was even wearing it at the time.

    Well, the enchantment is actually specifically targeted towards shocking those who attempt to take or move the backpack rather than just anyone who touches it, but that bit isn''t important.

    With the sign placed, I grab the first stack of clothes and enter the changing room. Over the course of the next hour, I try on every piece of clothing I selected, immediately eliminating any which I do not like the look of and attempting several combinations of those I do. It takes time, but I settle on the outfits I wish to buy, including two new pairs of shoes and a few more packs of socks just in case. My growth also necessitated purchasing more underwear, so I ensure a few packs of those are added to the cart before I head to the registers to pay.

    "And¡­ how did you get this money?" The cashier asks when I hand it to her.

    "The wallet fairy gave it to me."

    "The¡­ what?"

    "The wallet fairy," I tell her. "I''ve never seen them, but whenever I need money for things like clothes, they fill a wallet with twenties. I discovered that I needed new clothes this morning and when I checked the wallet, bam! Money. I have considered putting up a camera to see if I can find out what they look like, but I''ve been warned that fairies don''t like people trying to spy on them. According to my research, the majority of fairies are not fully in this plane, preventing ordinary eyes and devices from seeing them. I would need to construct an entirely new-"

    "Is it that time already?" An older woman approaches. "Hello, Greyson."

    "Hello," I greet her. "The time is currently nine thirty-seven in the morning."

    "Your dad isn''t with you today?" She asks.

    "He is likely currently attempting to wrangle my other brothers," I tell her. "Apart from Cal, who is at work already. I do have other business to attend to today, would you mind telling the cashier to finish checking me out? There are some griffins which need speaking to, a mob to rob, some power cores to purchase, and all before lunch. I am a very busy boy today."

    "You always are," she chuckles, then looks at the cashier. "Greyson comes from a richer family, just check him out."

    The cashier uses a forgery-checker pen (the kind that''s clear and so doesn''t mark legit bills) on every bill I gave her, then finishes the transaction.

    "How are you getting the clothes out of here?" The cashier asks. "That''s a bit much for your arms and it won''t fit into your backpack. You''re going to need to purchase some bags."

    I pull off my backpack and open it up, then set it into the cart and begin sticking clothes into it. The manager watches in amusement as the cashier''s expression turns from annoyance to confusion as more and more clothes go into the bag, yet the bag never looks full.

    "W-"

    "It''s a magic backpack," I tell her. "There''s an enchantment on it to act as a pocket dimension, therefore eliminating both the normal space restriction of the backpack as well as preventing me from feeling the weight. Mine is specially-designed to even allow me to access its contents as I please, therefore preventing any need to look around inside for the specific item I want. That''s why I can do something such as this."

    I reach into the backpack and pull out a sucker with a spherical head that''s yellow with brown spots, which I promptly place into my mouth.

    "It''s pineapple-pecan," I pull out another. "Want it?"

    "Uh¡­ no."

    "What about you?" I ask the manager.

    "Sure," she accepts it. "Thank you, Greyson."

    "You''re welcome," I respond as I zip up the backpack. "I must be going now, or I might not be able to finish everything before lunch."

    "Have a good day," the manager says as I pull on my backpack.

    "He''s like, ten!" The cashier says. "Why does he have a backpack like that?"

    "Don''t question it," the manager tells her as I leave. "We''ve learned not to."

    I exit the shop and make my way a spot without cameras viewing it, then teleport to my next destination. Though I didn''t notice any signs of the Faction and haven''t received any alerts to them having accessed any of the systems in the area, it is still better to not reveal I can teleport where it can be viewed.

    Just in case the Faction accesses the logs.

    Now, I''m standing on a mountain, close to a cliff. There are plenty of trees around, but not where I''m standing. Caves dot the sides of the mountain and staring at me, startled by my sudden appearance, are a trio of griffins. I can spot a quartet of the majestic beasts watching from afar and even sense the amusement of those ones.

    With the bodies of lions but the heads and wings of eagles, griffins are quite the interesting creatures. I enjoy their presences a lot, but most wild ones are dangerous beasts which pose a threat to anyone and everyone I care about. In order to make things safer for the area, I have tamed all of the griffins within five hundred miles of home.

    The most the average griffin travels from their nest is approximately two hundred miles, so I went a little extra to be safe. The three I''m standing in front of moved in to this area recently and as it seems to be genuinely moved in rather than simply visiting, it is time for them to learn the rules.

    "Hello," I pull the sucker out of my mouth. "My name is Greyson Henry King, and I am in charge of the griffins of this region. If you wish to live here, you will need to abide by my rules."

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    The bigger of the three griffins screeches at me, then charges forward.

    "Rule Number One," I point the sucker at it and the griffin finds itself slamming into an invisible barrier. "Do not attack people without my permission."

    The griffin begins attack the barrier while the other two charge around to my sides.

    "Rule Number Two," I say as the other two slam into invisible barriers. "Never cause problems for people without my permission."

    The lead griffin takes a few steps back and opens its mouth, an orb of light forming and sparkles of light appearing around it, sucking in to the orb.

    "Rule Number Three," I say as a laser shoots out of the orb and into the barrier. "Always do as I command."

    The other two griffins begin summoning their own beams of concentrated light.

    "Rule Number Four," I say. "Never, ever, look for or use loopholes. Do as I say, not as I do."

    I stick the sucker back into my mouth, and all three griffins find themselves floating up into the sky. They begin furiously flapping their wings in an attempt to escape, but the attempts are pointless. They use flight magics for their flight. I''m manipulating gravity itself.

    "If you follow these simple rules," I raise my right hand up into the air. "We''ll get along just fine."

    I slash down with my hand and the moment I do, the griffins slam down into the ground. Bones crunch as they land on their wings and legs in awkward positions.

    "This is my territory," I say as a golden-white light radiates out of me, seeping into the wounded beasts. "And you will obey these rules without resistance."

    As the trio of griffins realize their injuries have been healed, I delve into the minds of all three and blast my way through them, grabbing their deepest fears and pulling them to the surface. Immediately, all three begin screaming and flailing.

    "Failure to do so," I now look like the most terrifying being in the world to them. "Will result in suffering you could only imagine hell to deliver."

    I walk up to the leader of the trio and kneel down.

    "So!" I extend my right hand as I release their minds from my grip. "Friends?"

    The griffin lets out a pitiful mew, then slowly extends a paw to let me shake it.

    "Excellent!" I say as we shake. "Please remember to follow all rules assigned and we''ll get along great! Now! I need some griffin feathers for an experiment. Would you be so kind as to donate them?"

    The griffin suddenly looks horrified, but ten minutes later, I''ve healed the spots where it was bleeding. I do the same for the other two after I collect their feathers as well.

    "You''ll regrow your feathers soon," I tell them. "Don''t worry! Oh, and you can ask those ones there about more of what it''s like to live in this area. As long as you follow my rules, things are pretty good."

    I pull out my phone and check the time.

    "I really must be going," I tell him. "I wish to finish other business before lunch."

    I hum a little to myself as I teleport into a stone-and-steel room with shelves covered in stacks of cash, boxes of jewels, books of information, and containers of magical plants and animal parts.

    Not all griffins need such a rough treatment to be put into their place, but these ones attacked me first. Some griffins are quite friendly, such as the arctic griffin I met at the North Pole on Tuesday. She even let me go for a ride on her after I escaped Santa. It was pretty fun, and I might return after lunch to ask her if she''d let me go for another ride.

    For now, I need to focus on the task I''m currently performing. There are quite a few things in this room. Some of it is illegal, some of it was obtained illegally, and none of that matters to me. What matters is the cash.

    Oh! Is that what I think it is?

    I hurry over to one of the shelves and examine the items on it. Comic books! They''re the First editions of a series I like! Tracking these down has proven difficult, especially since I would prefer to obtain them legally.

    Into the backpack they go. If I can take them from a mob instead of having to save up money earned legitimately to purchase them from a collector, then I will.

    Why a mob has them in a vault, I don''t really know. It matters none to me, so I also don''t care.

    Those jewels look nice and I spend a few minutes examining them before I have to remind myself of what I came here for: the cash. They have a lot of stacks of tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds in here. A single stack of one-hundred dollar bills is ten grand, and a power core of the type I need costs $400,000, or forty stacks.

    My expectation is a need of three before my next purchase, so I want to buy an extra just in case. That''s $1,600,000, but my gut tells me I should acquire at least three more, just in case.

    Which is strange. I would only need another three if Xander were going to return to regularly hanging out at my secret base and as far as I''m aware, he''s still not able to due to his foster-father wanting to know where he is at all times. Hm¡­ except stronger members of the family have psychic instincts, and I fit squarely into that category as the third-most powerful member.

    Well. If the god''s not returning to the secret base, then this gut feeling means I might not be able to purchase more power cores for a little while. An investigation will be needed into the cause of that.

    "Hm¡­"

    It would be better to buy the extras, just in case. If I''m going to need six, then I should buy more than one extra and eight is a nice number. Not for Xander, though. Even if it''s an all-curve number, that doesn''t change the fact that it''s even. Since he''s not around, I want to do something for him in my own stuff so I grab enough cash to buy nine.

    The mob doesn''t have $3,600,000 in hundreds, so I have to switch to fifties and even twenties. It clears out most of their cash so they''ll need to liquidate some of their other expensive assets. That''s not really my problem, though.

    This particular mob is quite nasty. Not hurt-little-boys nasty, so I haven''t sicced my griffins on them, but they could do with the financial hit.

    "Oh!"

    Those are raw mana crystals, aren''t they? They''re so shiny. And they have so much mana in them! How''d they get these? I want them. They''re good for enchantments and making magic alloys, but they can also be ground up and put into normal recipes to turn the food magic. I like doing that with plain ingredients when making food. There was crushed mana crystal in the filling for the cinnamon rolls I made this morning.

    I slip the mana crystals into my backpack.

    As I start to cast the teleport spell, something else catches my attention so I cancel the spell and walk over to the shelf.

    Oh! It is! A jar of lightweaver crickets! They''re all dead, but that''s how I need them. I was going to catch some this afternoon, but taking this will save me some time so I slip the jar into my backpack.

    Catching them is fun, so I might still do so anyway.

    This vault really gave me a lot, so I want to give them a thanks. From within my backpack, I pull out a ceramic griffin I made and set it on the shelf where the jar was. It was made with ordinary clay and glaze and wasn''t enchanted, so it''s not really worth much. But I''m proud of it and feel it''s a good trade.

    "Hm¡­"

    Is there anything else in here I could use?

    Thirty minutes after placing down the ceramic griffin, I''m teleporting out of the vault and into another storage room.

    This one is smaller than the vault and could be mistaken as a closet from the size. The protective enchantments on it are much superior, though. So is the alarm system in it, which is why I''m floating in the air rather than standing on the ground. In addition to the increased protective and warding enchantments, there are normal cameras, alarm sensors on the floor, infrared cameras, magic-detection cameras, sound detection systems, and various other gizmos. My spells are shielding me from the detectors at the moment, though I''ll need to deal with them in a moment so that I can properly acquire my desired items.

    Lining the three walls without the door are metal shelves that slant downward. They''re designed with slots to fit canisters nine inches in length and three in diameter, their bodies made of magical glass and their ends made of metal and notched for socketing into things, runes covering the caps. Those canisters fill the shelves here, all of which have a sort of yellow, glowing light in them. One shelf has ones that also have sparks dancing around inside of them: the more expensive ones I want, made from Lucas Gates''s own mana.

    I hold out my right hand and a laptop appears on it, summoned from my backpack. Opening up my laptop, I begin the processes of tapping into the security system and setting everything on it for this room into a loop. Said loop will end once this laptop is no longer in the room and my laptop will inform me if someone has noticed or is fighting it.

    With the room''s security system disabled (how long will it be before they find the wireless access point I created a few years ago?), I land on the ground and pull off my backpack, then open it up. In place of each canister I take, I set down the appropriate amount of cash that I looted from the mob.

    "I''m surprised it''s taken you this long to come for those canisters," Melody Gates comments as the door behind me opens. "Considering how much power you seem to need with how often you''re taking inferior ones."

    "You have an increased supply of them at the moment," I say. "I checked the market value for them. You''ll find the appropriate payments in place."

    "Have you thought about properly buying them?" She asks.

    "I am exchanging them for cash," I state as I place the last one into the bag. "And one of the owners of the companies is allowing me. That is purchasing."

    Not that they have the power to actually stop me. They''re all significantly inferior than I am in terms of magical ability, and they have no access to anything powerful enough to contain me.

    "Really?" She asks. "Where''s the receipt?"

    "I have never asked for one."

    "You''ve also never spoken with me when I caught you before," she says. "You can turn off whatever you''re doing to mess with the alarms on here, I''ve already turned them off."

    That seems to be the truth, so I teleport my laptop back into my backpack.

    "I heard that you stole three ice cores," she says. "And that you''re very likely using the power cores you''re acquiring for some sort of supercomputer?"

    I narrow my gaze on her.

    "You work for the Faction, don''t you?" I could have sworn she came up clean in her connections to them when I looked.

    "I don''t know who or what the Faction is," Melody says. "But no. Xander told Trey, who told my husband, who told me."

    That is an absolute truth. Hm. Well, if Xander is the one who shared it, I''m okay with that. I never did tell him to keep the mega computer a secret and he may have gotten my texts on Tuesday while he was with his new dad. The topic probably came up then.

    Besides, it''s Xander. If a powerful deity like he decides to tell people, who am I to argue? It just means it''s probably time for people to know that I am attempting to change the world.

    Even if that weren''t the case, I can''t do anything about it. He''s keeping his soul attached to his body through the sheer force of will, has conjured a magic brain to take over the duties of his real one, animates his body through some complex spell I''ve yet to figure out (but really want to because it would make simulacrums easy), a growth spell to ensure his body is able to continue to grow and heal as it should, self-enhancement spells to toughen his body and make himself stronger, and more.

    At all times.

    All of those spells were done quite sloppily, but I''m sure that it was done intentionally. Their sloppy nature does increase the difficulties he faces, but also minimizes his ability to use other magics. I''m not sure what he''s doing, but Xander must have his reasons.

    The very fact that he''s able to cast four high-tier spells, a multipurpose body-enhancement spell, and several other spellsall at once, and smaller spells on occasion ¨C such as his use of telekinesis every time he unties his shoes to ensure they untie on the first try ¨C proves his absolute mastery of magic. It''s the equivalent of around thirty smaller-scale spells. At a minimum.

    I aspire to be that talented, even if I know I could never reach the level of a god. But a boy can dream, so I do.

    Getting mad at him would be like attempting to put out a fire elemental with a water balloon. A very small one meant for a baby to throw. A god like Xander could probably blink me out of existence if he decided I was annoying enough.

    "I see," I say. "Well, if you were just wishing to let me know that you''re aware of my project, I''ll be going now. Today is a busy day for me."

    "Hold on," she says. "You''re talkative today. Before you go¡­ you seem to be a magitech genius, a little bit like my own son. I can''t imagine you would have a magitech computer that heats up considering that magitech doesn''t heat up. Mana doesn''t obey the laws of science, after all, and so doesn''t generate heat as it works unless it''s designed to. Yet yours apparently heats up enough to warrant ice cores?"

    "There is a flaw in the magic system of it," I tell her. "I am aware that it is there, but eliminating it proves difficult without causing other problems. Acquiring a few ice cores from Santa''s workshop every year is the easiest solution I came up with until such a time as I can convince Xander to take a long enough look at the system."

    "Xander?" She raises an eyebrow.

    "Yes," I nod. "Xander. His mage-sight is fundamentally different from mine and allows him to pick up nuances even I cannot."

    By refusing to work on my computer, I think Xander''s attempting to challenge me to figure it out on my own. The solution has proven quite elusive and my current estimates indicate that it will take 6 years, 9 months, 14 days, 23 hours, 7 minutes, and 39.4 seconds more of work on the computer itself ¨C in actual time spent working on it ¨C to figure it out. Give or take 18 hours, 9 minutes, and 53.1 seconds.

    "Hm¡­" I realize something. "You are correct. I do appear to be more talkative today. Well. No matter. I''ve not shared anything too classified."

    "Have you ever tried being a ten-year-old boy?" She asks. "Fully, I mean. Not just partially?"

    "I have not the faintest idea what you mean by that," I tell her. "I am ten years old. Nearly eleven. I will not say more than that, as I lack any desire to let you know how to find my identity."

    "I already know who you are, Greyson," she says. "Tristan and I simply haven''t told anyone we''ve identified you."

    Hm¡­ I sense no hostility from her. She may still be an agent of the Faction despite that.

    "Your great-grandfather called us soon after you started ''acquiring'' the cores," she tells me. "Informed us to let him know if you ever didn''t pay."

    Adrian King already knows? This is dangerous, and it sounds like he''s known for years. I must take extra precautions, just in case. I must not let him interfere with my goals. While he is not the Faction¡­ he''ll certainly put a stop to things!

    Though it sounds like he''s aware of some things. At least I''ve warded the secret base to prevent him from noticing it.

    "The power cores made using Luke''s mana should be sufficient for awhile," I tell her. "They are quite potent, after all."

    I teleport one from my backpack into my hand and examine it.

    "Hm¡­" I think. "Next time I see Xander, I might ask him to examine it. I need to figure out a proper power source for the computer so that I do not need to rely on power cores. I tried solar and hydroelectric and they didn''t prove nearly enough energy, and Xander asked me nicely not to try and tap into the world''s mana veins, so I''m not sure what to do. Ah!"

    "You sound like you realized something," Melody says.

    "I just realized why I''m more talkative!" I tell her. "It''s this room! You put a spell on it to make me talk! That is illegal, ma''am!"

    Though quite impressive. I should have noticed it sooner. It even managed to slip through my mental barrier.

    Now that I know it''s there, though, I can sort of ignore the effects. There''s a flaw in my mental shield I didn''t know about before and that spell happened to slip through because of that. I don''t even think it was intentionally designed to bypass the barrier, either, it just does because of it how affects the mind.

    "And how did the son of the owner of a restaurant and a realtor manage to acquire three-point-six million dollars?" Melody raises an eyebrow.

    I glance at the cash on the shelf, then back to her.

    "You say nothing, I say nothing."

    "One day," she says. "We''re going to figure out how to lock you out and you''ll need to go through Adrian King to acquire those."

    As if she could ever manage that. I''m a hundred times as powerful as her son and acquiring the materials needed to lock him out of something is difficult enough.

    "Unlikely," I say. "How did you even know I was here? You arrived pretty fast and I could have sworn I evaded all of your detection systems."

    "You evaded most of them," she says. "Except for two things. First, we installed new alarms in this room, and ones your little hack isn''t able to access. We''re still looking for that vulnerability, by the way.

    "Second," she says. "And more importantly, mana readers are expensive and cost a lot to run. Mana sensors, on the other hand, simply sense the presence of mana, rather than reading the energy itself. Those are set up all over the building as a standard security measure. Their main purpose is mainly to let us know if there''s a significant leak, and we have multiple in this area because of the power storage here. Your teleport spell leaks more mana than my son can hold."

    Oh. I didn''t even know they had such sensors set up. Are they new?

    "I will admit that my spell is flawed," I state. "However, I am insufficiently experienced with dimensional magics to correct said flaws. Though I''m quite impressed that I leak that little from the spell. I used to leak more than thrice that."

    I''ll try work on reducing the leak more. Or figuring out a way to mask it to avoid setting off the detectors. That''s something which I should do out of this place¡­ it''s messing with my head too much.

    "I''ll be going now," I tell her. "Until we meet again."

    I dip my head to Melody, then teleport home, arriving a little outside of the range of the security cameras set up to watch the front yard. Walking up to the house, I enter and close the door, then pull out my wallet and put the receipt and change from my shopping trip into the wallet on the griffin plate.

    "PAPA!" Henry yells. "GREYSON''S HOME!"

    And much relieved to no longer be dealing with that mind-loosening spell on the power core storage room. Melody and the Gatewood Energy company don''t usually delve into illegal activities, which means she probably set up that up as a trap for me. If I stayed under it too much longer, she might have gotten me to slip up about some other information that I didn''t want known.

    Like what my mega computer is for.

    "Hey, Greyson," Papa looks at me from the kitchen. "If you take the tags and stickers off your clothes, I''ll put them in the wash for you. I''ve already removed your old outfits from your closet and dresser, though I did put a few new sets in there. They should fit you, and I washed them alone, so you can be sure they''re clean."

    Hm. Papa must have anticipated I would be in need of new clothes and arranged for some temporary outfits for me. I must have left before he could let me know.

    I nod to him, then head to my room.

    "How come he gets to go shopping by himself?" Henry whines. "I wanted to go clothes shopping, too!"

    "Trying to stop Greyson is like trying to stop a freight train with your willpower alone," Papa says as I close my door.

    I bet Xander would find that¡­ oh! Papa got me a shirt with a griffin on it! He''s left it out on my bed! It''s a grey shirt with a big griffin on the front, along with grey shorts with gold and brown stripes down the sides! There''s also a pair of underwear and a pair of socks on there as well. And they''re in my new size!

    I hurriedly change into them, then open up my bag and dump out the new clothes I bought. The sooner I can get these ready for Papa to put in the washer, the sooner I can get to work on finishing my newest remote controlled car.

    It''s going to have lasers!

 Chapter 031

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey asks from behind me.

    "I-I think I did it right!"

    I''m doing the laundry for the clothes I wear. Mr. Trey suggested I do that as a chore when I asked him what chores I have. Well, he originally told me not to worry about it, but eventually said that if I wanted to do chores so that I didn''t feel like I was being bad for not, I could do my own laundry.

    There are very clearly displayed directions so that I know what to do for the loads and I tried to make sure I followed them. This is my first time trying so I''m not really sure.

    "You did," Mr. Trey says. "I had a question."

    "Y-yes, sir?"

    "Are you changing your socks and underwear every time you change?" He asks. "Even when you change into your pajamas or out of them? I noticed you were changing pants and shirts each time, too."

    "Y-yes, sir," I nod. "I-is that bad?"

    "No," he answers. "Just unusual if it''s only for a nap. We can get more socks and underwear if you''d like, so you don''t have to do laundry as frequently. Also, I noticed that you''re still only wearing the clothes from the boys'' home when you leave during the day for stuff like a walk or if you go into the back yard. Do you not like the clothes I bought you?"

    Oh, no! He''s mad at me for not wearing them outside!

    "I-I do!" I tell him. "B-but they don''t keep me cool! They''re comfy, but only inside."

    I don''t like being hot, so I switch into the clothes that feel cooler when I go outside. The new socks and underwear are fine, but the pants and long-sleeved shirts aren''t.

    "Hm," Mr. Trey thinks for a few seconds. "I noticed that you only have tagless shirts and that all of the information printed at the collars is rubbed out of them."

    "S-sorry!" I apologize. "I-I forgot to ask you! Ms. Johnson gave me permission to rub it all off ''cause it feels weird against my skin so I always do that when I get new shirts."

    "No, that''s not a problem," he says. "It just means I don''t know what brand she was buying before. I could call her and ask, but do you want to visit the home and we can ask in person? We can maybe go buy a few more of those for you, if you want."

    I''m not so sure about getting more clothes, but it seems that Mr. Trey wants to make sure I''m wearing the clothes that he buys me. That makes me nervous of what his plans are.

    "O-okay."

    "Why don''t you get ready to go, then?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "O-okay."

    I get ready to go and meet Mr. Trey outside, and he drives us to the boys'' home. He asks me about the backpack but doesn''t press when I shrug, which makes me happy. It has Trenton in it and I didn''t want to make it obvious I''m not comfortable. I haven''t been feeling alright all morning.

    When we arrive, Ms. Johnson is trying to get a couple of the younger boys to do their Saturday chores. It takes a few minutes before she''s able to talk so we wait until then.

    "Hey, Trey," Ms. Johnson says. "Hello, Xander! How can I help you guys?"

    "I know we could have called," Mr. Trey tells her. "But we were wondering what brand shirt you guys were buying Xander? He seems to prefer them when outside in the heat, but the identifiers have been rubbed off on all of them. And I figured he might want to say hi in person."

    "Of course!" Ms. Johnson smacks her head. "I should have put that in his file. They''re a little on the more expensive side, which is why he got so few compared to the other boys. There''s magic woven into the fibers to help the wearer stay cool, we felt it was best to do that for him since he prefers long-sleeves no matter the weather."

    "Hey, Xander!" Nick calls out, and I look over to find him approaching while waving and smiling. "How''s it going?"

    "Um¡­ I think okay?" I answer.

    "Cool," he grins at me, then leans in a little. "I think the other boys are starting to figure out it was you stocking in that bag of random candies most weeks. It hasn''t appeared since you moved out and they''re being a little bit slow."

    "O-oh," I say. "Um¡­ I haven''t been there since I moved in with Mr. Trey. Are they mad?"

    "No," he grins. "The ones who are figuring it out are just trying to figure out where you getting the candy from and how much it cost. And why you were buying candy for the home."

    "I wasn''t buying it," I tell him.

    "I know," he chuckles. "You told me how you were getting it. Anyway, I gotta get back to my chores. Bye, Xander!"

    "Bye."

    "Why don''t we get going?" Mr. Trey asks me. "They seem a bit busy. Say bye to Tiffany?"

    "Bye, Ms. Johnson," I wave to her, then follow Mr. Trey out.

    "She let me know where to find the shirts she got you," Mr. Trey says as we go to the car. "Would you like to go buy some now?"

    "Um¡­" I fidget a little. "C-can I ask for the thing f-from yesterday? T-the ask-for-something t-thing for not freaking out at the d-doctor''s?"

    "Sure," Mr. Trey says. "What is it?"

    "C-can you drop me off at the park?" I ask. "And, um¡­ not follow me somewhere?"

    "To the dork''s workshop?"

    "Um¡­" I hesitate, then shake my head. "To a place I feel safe. I-I haven''t gone there since I moved into your house. And. Um. I feel c-calm there. And k-kind of happy. B-but not if others are there."

    "The park on the way from the pet store to the Wolf''s Dragon?" He asks.

    That''s him asking if I want to be dropped off there, I think.

    "Y-yeah."

    "I''m not going to be comfortable letting you go somewhere without at least telling me where it is," he says. "But I think I know where you''re wanting to go. I asked Tiffany about the arrangement with the sandwich shop and she told me about a cluster of businesses you usually went to once a week, if you were allowed. I heard that other boy mention you getting candy, and Tiffany had told me that you usually came back with a one-pound bag of candy that you''d sneak into the snacks cabinet when no one was looking."

    He already knows the safe place!

    "Don''t worry," he says. "I can wait at the park for you. The reason I want to know where you are, Xander, is in case something happens. Alright?"

    "A-alright."

    "And this won''t count as you permitted thing," he adds. "Tiffany said you feel safe there, so I was going to ask if you wanted to go at some point in the next week, anyway. You''ve had a pretty stressful month."

    "O-oh."

    Mr. Trey drives to the park and parks his car in the lot there, then looks at me.

    "Let me know when you arrive," he tells me. "And again when you leave. That way I know you made it there safely and when you''re on your way back. And if something happens and you get scared or you want me to pick you up, just text me. Okay?

    "O-okay."

    "You can go," he tells me.

    I get out of the car and start walking to where the businesses I feel safe at are. When I arrive, I make sure to text Mr. Trey that I''ve arrived, then I start walking along the businesses.

    "Hey, Xander!" Mrs. Adriana, the elderly woman who owns a bookstore here, greets me. "How are you?"

    She''s left the bookstore and is standing outside, under the small canopy over the door.

    "H-hi, Mrs. Adriana," I greet her. "Are you staying cool?"

    "I am," she smiles. "Haven''t seen you in awhile."

    "I got put in a home," I tell her. "A big home. It''s¡­ it''s like bigger than this," I stretch out my arms. "The bed I get to sleep on there, I mean. It''s bigger than two of my bed at the boys'' home put together. Maybe even bigger than three of them put together."

    "That''s a big bed," she says. "And you have it all to yourself?"

    "And stuffed animals," I pull off my backpack and pull out Trenton, then make sure to zip the bag back up before pulling it back on. "Trenton likes the bed. He wasn''t happy about having to share with more stuffed animals, but I wasn''t gonna make them sleep on the floor, so I told him he has to get used to it. He''s accepted that and now likes having them there. Which is weird. It was a really fast change. Sometimes, I think he''s weird. I know that''s wrong, but I can''t help it."

    "We''re all a little weird inside," Mrs. Adriana says. "You look a little bit bigger now."

    "Yeah," I nod. "I gained weight since moving in with Mr. Trey. About twelve whole pounds."

    "Whoa!" She puts a hand to her chest. "That''s a lot! You must be getting plenty to eat!"

    "Yeah," I nod as she lowers her hand. "Mr. Trey is super nice and tells me to eat until I''m stuffed. I don''t always, but I''m not as hungry as much anymore. Trenton told me he''s jealous and wishes he could eat food, too."

    "I bet he does," she smiles. "Well, why don''t I let you get on with your visit, Xander? You have a good one."

    "Have a good day," I tell her, then grab one of Trenton''s paws so I can help him wave. He can''t move on his own so I have to do it for him. "Bye, Mrs. Adriana."

    "Bye, Xander!"

    I continue walking down the street, and it seems like all of the owners and workers are greeting me today. Usually, it''s just a few of them instead of at every shop I pass. They all want to talk and ask me about how I''ve been. This is new and weird, but at least I know they''re all good people. I''ve been coming here for three years now and know them well enough.

    "Hey, Xander!" Ms. Laney greets me as I reach her flower shop, halfway down this side of the street. "You''re looking more cheerful than normal."

    "I''m not feeling as sad," I tell her. "More happy. Not fully happy, just more happy. So I don''t need a crown."

    Ms. Laney gives children who could use some happiness a flower crown she makes if they accept the offer. I used to think I didn''t have a choice in receiving it, but I learned about a year and a half ago that it''s a choice that I can make, and it''s okay to say I don''t want it as long as I''m polite.

    But I still usually accepted the flower crowns anyway because they cheered me up.

    "I can still make you one if you want," she says. "You can tell me how you''ve been while I do. You haven''t been here in about a month and I was wondering if something happened."

    "I got put into another home," I tell her. "With a huge bed and lots of food."

    "That''s nice!" She says. "Want to tell me about it while I make you a flower crown?"

    I''m still a little bit scared and anxious and depressed, and the crowns always make me feel better. Maybe I can accept.

    "How much does it cost?" I ask.

    "Free if you tell me about how you''ve been this past month," she smiles.

    That''s a fair payment? I thought cash was it¡­

    "Okay," I say.

    "Come on in," she beckons, so I follow her in. "Want your usual blue-and-purple one?"

    "Yes, please."

    Ms. Laney pulls up a stool for me to sit on to watch her work, then she grabs flowers from several containers and begins weaving their stems together as we talk. I watch while using my magesight because she uses some sort of magic as she works and it looks really nice.

    "You didn''t know how to swim?" Ms. Laney asks after I mention getting swim lessons.

    "No," I shake my head. "But I''m learning. Coach Evan said that I''ll be a fish by the end of summer if I keep practicing. I''m not sure I want to be turned into a fish, though, so I''m trying to figure out a way to ask Mr. Trey to stop the lessons so I don''t turn into a fish."

    "I think it was ''swimming like a fish''," she smiles. "It just means that you''ll be a good swimmer."

    "Oh," my face heats up.

    Stupid fucking worthless brain.

    "You''re a little more talkative today," she says. "I take it that means you''re really feeling good right now?"

    "A little," I nod. "I like being here. On this street, I mean. You''re all super nice. And I''ve been stressed and scared a lot this month."

    "Well, maybe this will help," she holds out the flower crown, which is now complete. "Here you go, Xander."

    "Thank you," I pull it on.

    "Does Trenton want one?" She asks. "I can make one for him if you tell me your favorite things about living with Mr. Trey."

    "Um¡­" I look down and tilt Trenton''s head up, then let him look at the counter again. "He says he''d like one. And¡­ there are lots of things I like there. But I''m worried I''m gonna mess up and Mr. Trey''s gonna send me back. Or that he''s gonna get tired of me and send me back. Or that he thinks my broke brain is too much and send me back."

    "What kind of things do you like there?" She asks as she gets up to grab more flowers.

    "Um¡­ the food," I answer. "There''s lots of delicious food. And I can eat at almost any time I want. And Ms. Katie is teaching me how to bake."

    "Is Ms. Katie his wife?"

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    "No," I answer. "She''s his personal chef. I thought they were dating but he said she''s just his employee."

    I continue talking with Ms. Laney about what I like at Mr. Trey''s house, until she finishes the flower crown for Trenton. Once he''s wearing it, I thank her and wish her a good day, then leave to continue walking around the street.

    The owners and workers of the businesses here all continue to stop me to chat as I walk by. This feels weird but it makes me happy. I really like how friendly the staff of these businesses are. It''s been three years since I first started walking down this street and they''ve never told me to go away and they''ve always been nice to me.

    "Hey there, Xander," Mr. Roger waves as I walk in front of his shop.

    He''s a really old man who makes candy. The candy that I used to put in the snacks cabinet at the boys'' home, back before moving into Mr. Trey''s home. Some of the candy is alright, but I don''t like having to pick out the ones I like so I just put the whole bag in the cabinet unless he only picks ones I like. All of it has that special flavor that I like, but that doesn''t make it all taste good to me.

    Nothing can make chocolate taste good to me. Proper chocolate, not white chocolate.

    "Hi, Mr. Roger," I wave back.

    "Want to arm wrestle?" He asks. "Same deal as always. If you win, you get a three-pound bag of candy of your choice. If I win, you get a one-pound bag of candy of my choice. I whipped up some batches of a holiday selection for Interception Day this coming Tuesday."

    When Mr. Roger first started offering me this deal, I was scared to refuse him. But I''ve learned that it''s okay to turn him down if I''m not feeling like it that day. He even made sure I knew it was okay for me to win, though I never have.

    I was looking in his eyes when he told me it was okay, so I know he was honest.

    The idea of getting three pounds of candy of my choice always makes me want to if I''m feeling okay enough that day. I want to try today, especially since I''m stronger than I was last time. I might still lose, but I want to at least try. Plus, I think Mr. Roger likes arm-wrestling me.

    "Okay," I say.

    We go into his shop and sit at one of the small tables in here. He keeps all of the candy behind the counters, in display cases, so that kids can''t just grab it and go without paying.

    "Remember the rules," Mr. Roger tells me. "Elbows need to stay on the table and you can only use one hand. Only one game. Got it?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Alright," he puts his right arm up. "Let''s try."

    I grab his right hand with mine, then he counts down from three. At zero, I try pushing his hand down, but he pushes back and ends up putting my hand on the table.

    "Good try," Mr. Roger says. "You had more resistance this time. Have you been working out?"

    "I''ve been doing fitness stuff," I tell him. "My foster-dad got me a teacher for it. I''m learning how to swim¡­ and do martial arts¡­ and then some fitness and athletic stuff. I''m not very good at dribbling a basketball. Did I really do better?"

    "You did!" He tells me. "Keep it up and you may manage to win three pounds of candy by the end of the year!"

    Does he really think that? I wasn''t looking in his eyes when he said that so I''m not sure. But he probably does, he''s always been nice to me.

    "Let me pick out the candy," Mr. Roger says.

    "Um," I hesitate a little as he goes behind the counter. "I was wondering if I could maybe buy some, too? I can sort out the ones I like and don''t like, but I wanted a whole pound of ones I like. If-if that''s okay?"

    Just because I don''t like sorting out the candy, that doesn''t mean I can''t.

    "Sure," Mr. Roger says. "Tell you what, you pick out at least five candies and pay a quarter of the price, and we''ll consider that the pound of candies you get for losing. The punishment here is having to pay some rather than getting some you might not like."

    "Is that okay?" I ask. "Changing it after?"

    "It is if both parties agree to the change," he says. "Do you want to?"

    "Um¡­" I don''t know if this is okay or not but he seems okay with it. "Okay."

    "Alright!" He says. "What do you want?"

    "Um," I look around. "Can I get the red-white-and-blue gummy swirls? Those look good. And the banana jelly beans, please. And the caramel bites, and green gummy bears, and blue gummy bears, and purple gummy bears. That''s four¡­ um¡­"

    "The gummy bears count as separate ones," he tells me.

    "Oh," I say.

    "You can still pick more if you want," he says. "Just mind that it''ll end up with less of each the more variety you pick. I said five just so that there''s a good amount of each."

    "Okay," I look at the candies. "Could I please get the red licorice bites and the black licorice bites, please?"

    "Sure," Mr. Roger says. "Let me get those scooped out for you."

    Mr. Roger scoops out candies and fills a paper box with them, weighing it all on a scale as he does. Once it''s exactly one pound, he rings up the purchase and I pay him five dollars, then he gives me the box and I put it into my backpack. I thank him and wish him a good day then leave his shop and talk to more people who work or own businesses on this street.

    "Xander!" Mrs. Natalie waves at me as I walk in front of the sandwich shop. "It''s been forever! How''ve you been?"

    She''s a Mrs. even though she''s only twenty-five because she''s already married, and I didn''t know people got married before that age. She even has a baby that I think is four months old now? I''m not quite sure how old her baby is. Mrs. Natalie''s dad owns the sandwich shop, though she''s been working here longer than I''ve been coming down this street. I think she''s the one who arranged the deal with the boys'' home.

    "Hi, Mrs. Natalie," I greet her. "I got put into a new home. It''s big and has lots of food. And. Um. I''m not at the boys'' home anymore. So the deal for them to cover a meal at a discounted rate doesn''t apply anymore. But I have money. I don''t know how much it''ll cost but I have money. I can buy stuff. Um. Up to twenty dollars."

    That''s a good limit, I think.

    "Do you remember what you normally got with us?" She asks.

    This is a test. I''ve never ordered inside the shop before so I don''t know their menu. I''m not sure why she wants to test me, though, as she''s never done that before. I don''t think? I don''t remember, at least, and she''s always been super nice to me so I''m not sure why she''d start testing me now.

    "Um¡­" I try to remember. "Three subs with¡­ uh¡­ turkey and lettuce and long pickle slices and onion and a tasty spread. I think? Also a big lemonade and three sugar cookies. And three bags of potato chips. Oh. But frosted gingerbread cookies during the winter holiday season rather than sugar cookies."

    "Right," she smiles. "The deal with the boys'' home was that you''d get a meal and they''d pay half the price. A meal is one sub or sandwich, one side or dessert, and one drink. We were giving you most of the food for free already. And doing double the meat."

    "Y-you were?" I ask. "W-why?"

    "Because you''re a sweet kid who''s always polite," she answers, and I''m looking in her eyes so I know she''s being honest. "And we could. We saw how quickly you''d scarf down what you were given and figured we could sacrifice a little profit to cover getting you more food."

    "Is that okay?"

    "My dad''s the one who said to and he owns the place," she says. "So you don''t get much more permission than that."

    "Oh," I say. "Can I tell him ''thank you''? The food is always delicious."

    "Sure," she answers. "Want to come in? It''s a bit warm out here."

    "Okay," I nod.

    There are only a couple of customers in the shop right now, a boy and a girl who look around fifteen or sixteen and who are sitting at a table in a corner.

    "Hey, Dad!" Mrs. Natalie waves to the middle-aged man behind the counter. "Xander wanted to say something to you!"

    "H-hi, Mr. Sean," I greet Mrs. Natalie''s dad. "Mrs. Natalie told me ''bout the extra food and it being your idea and I wanted to thank you. Thank you."

    "You''re welcome," he smiles. "You''ve always been a sweet kid. Do you want your usual today?"

    "I''m not at the boys'' home anymore," I tell him. "So they aren''t covering for the deal anymore. But. Um. Maybe up to twenty? Um. I mean, I can buy? Maybe buy? Sorry my words are being all mixed up, Mr. Sean."

    "It''s alright," Mr. Sean tells me. "And if you want your usual, don''t worry about paying the full price. We can still give it to you for the discounted rate of ten dollars."

    "Is that really okay?" I ask.

    "Sure it is," he tells me. "You just have to tell us how you''ve been doing."

    This trip to this street is being so confusing today. Their alternate payment methods are weird.

    "O-oh," I say. "Um. Okay."

    I tell Mr. Sean and Mrs. Natalie about living at Mr. Trey''s as he prepares the food for me, then I pay him the ten dollars.

    "Is it okay if I eat in here?" I ask.

    "Of course!" Mr. Sean tells me. "You''re always welcome to eat in here, Xander."

    "Okay," I say. "Thank you. Oh."

    I just realized, but it''ll be hard to carry all of the food and my drink with Trenton in my arms, but Mrs. Natalie offers to help, so I manage to get everything to the table. As it always does, the food here has that special flavor in it. All of the food from the businesses in this section have the special flavor, which is one of the reasons why I kept coming back after the first few times I was given it.

    Once I finish the food, I make sure to throw all of the trash away, then thank Mrs. Natalie and Mr. Sean before leaving. I talk with workers from the next couple of shops, who are outside and greet me as I pass, then I reach the bakery. They make the baked desserts that the sub shop sells and their stuff is usually pretty good.

    "Hi, Xander!" Heidi, the owner of the bakery, greets me. "I heard you found a foster family?"

    "Mr. Trey is really nice," I nod. "And he doesn''t beat me."

    "That''s good to hear," she says. "I was starting to get worried when you didn''t show up for so long. Was going to call the home next week if I didn''t see you by then to see if you were okay."

    "I''m healthier now," I tell her. "I don''t have abs yet so I''m not fully healthy, but I gained weight. Lots of weight. About twelve pounds."

    "That is a lot!" She smiles widely. "You''re eating right?"

    "Ms. Katie makes sure that meals have good food," I tell her. "Like fruits and veggies. Breakfast today was egg sandwiches, which I didn''t like, and glazed fruit, which was really good. But there were sausage patties on the egg sandwiches, so they were kind of okay. But the egg ruined the flavor. Mr. Trey let me have ones without the egg after I ate two with it."

    "Do you still get to eat sweets?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Ms. Katie lets me help her bake stuff. Like tonight. We''re going to bake cookies tonight. There are these really delicious lemon cookies with blueberries that we made before and they were good. We''re gonna make them again tonight."

    "That''s neat," Ms. Heidi says. "We have leftover donuts from this morning. Would you like some? I''ve got some that haven''t touched chocolate."

    Ms. Heidi likes to give away leftover donuts after eleven in the morning rather than sell them as day-old donuts the next day. I didn''t understand that back when I first started coming here but learned that it''s okay to accept them. She does this because she''d prefer them to be eaten while they''re more fresh than when they''re a day old, so that they''re more enjoyable to those who taste them.

    I always try to make sure I eat all of them that day, so that they don''t become day-old donuts.

    "What kinds?"

    "A few," she beckons for me to enter the shop. "Including ones with maple syrup icing," she laughs. "Yeah, I know you love those ones."

    Ms. Heidi goes behind the counter as I look at the donut case. All of the leftover chocolate donuts are on a single tray, while the rest of the donuts take up two trays and are mixed together. After opening up a white paper bag, Ms. Heidi grabs some tongs and uses them to point at donuts to ask if I want them. She always gives me at least five if there are more than that of the ones without chocolate in or on them, and today is no different.

    In fact, there are four ring donuts with maple icing and two rectangular ones with maple icing that get added to the bag, putting me over five just from those. There are also two ring and two long ones with vanilla icing and two that she calls ''bear claws''. I also get two blueberry cake donuts with plain icing and three sugar-coated donuts with jelly filling. The bag gets really full, but it fits into my backpack fine.

    There are a lot of leftover donuts today, so Ms. Heidi is giving away more than normal per person who gets free donuts.

    "Don''t eat them all at once," Ms. Heidi tells me. "And you can share with your new family if you want, too."

    "Okay," I nod. "Thank you, Ms. Heidi."

    "You''re welcome!" She says. "You have a wonderful day, Xander!"

    "You, too."

    I leave the shop and start walking down the street, only to be stopped by the very old owner of the next shop.

    "Hey, Xander," Mrs. Donna greets me. "I haven''t seen you in awhile. Has everything been okay?"

    "I''ve been really stressed and anxious," I tell her. "I got put in a new home at the start of the month and there''s been lots of mistakes I made. But Mr. Trey is nice and hasn''t beaten me or sent me back."

    "That''s good to hear," she says. "Do you want to stay in that home?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Mr. Trey is really nice. Like all of you. And he says he wants to adopt me, too. And he''s honest when he does."

    "That''s good to hear," she says. "If I''d known, I''d have sent you a gift box to celebrate."

    "To celebrate?"

    "Sure," she says. "You''d been in the boys'' home for about three years, right? Because it was hard to find someone they felt was a match for you? So getting to go to a home is something to celebrate, especially if you like it there and want to stay there."

    "Oh," I say. "I do want to stay there. Mr. Trey is nice to me and doesn''t yell at me even when I mess up. And I get lots of food and a giant bed and can watch documentaries and learn new words and how to swim and stuff. It''s really nice. And he''s even trying to help me with my brain, too. He even got mad at the doctor yesterday."

    Mr. Trey seemed really mad at the doctor for saying the only way to fix my brain was an expensive treatment he couldn''t afford.

    "Well," she says. "I can still put together a gift box to celebrate you finding a home that may be a forever home. Come on in to the AC while I do that, okay?"

    "Okay," I follow Mrs. Donna into her shop, where she starts picking items off the shelves.

    Soaps and candles and oils are among the things she picks out, all in scents and colors that I like. She puts them all into a purple paper box, which she then ties closed with a blue ribbon. I can''t remember being given a gift box for something that wasn''t a birthday before, but I guess they can be given to celebrate other things, too.

    "Here you go, Xander," Mrs. Donna hands me the box. "I hope you enjoy it and continue to enjoy your new home."

    I have to rearrange the stuff in my backpack so I can put the box at the bottom, so that it doesn''t squish the donuts. Once I have my backpack on again, I look at Mrs. Donna.

    "Thank you, Mrs. Donna," I say. "I''ll try. You have a good day."

    "You as well, Xander!"

    There''s only one shop left for me to pass by in this part, and I''m not surprised to see the old man who owns and runs it standing outside, greeting me when I approach. After everyone else was outside and greeted me, it would be weird if he wasn''t.

    "Hi, Mr. Vincent," I greet him in response.

    "How are you?" Mr. Vincent asks.

    "I''m happy right now," I tell him. "Very happy. And calm. Very calm. How are you?"

    "I''m doing quite good," he says. "I just finished up a batch of fudge I think you might like. Do you want to try the game?"

    Mr. Vincent plays a game with kids who come through and chat with him. He''ll pull out a deck of cards, shuffle it, then hold the cards in a fan. When he says a card value and suit, the kid pulls out a random card without looking at the faces and if it''s the card he called out, they get seven boxes of fudge for free. I manage to get the right card around half the time.

    At first, I was scared to say ''no'' because it''s fudge. But then after I won for the first time, I learned that not all fudge has chocolate in it.

    "Okay," I say.

    Mr. Vincent pulls out his deck of cards and shows me them so that I can see that it''s a proper deck and not a rigged one, then he shuffles it and holds it up in a fan, the backs facing me.

    "King of Diamonds," he says.

    "Um¡­" I look at the backs of the cards. "I think it was this one?"

    I pull out one of the cards and turn it around. It''s the King of Diamonds! Yes!

    "Good job, Xander!" He says. "Come on in, let''s get you your fudge!"

    I follow Mr. Vincent into his shop and he goes behind the counter and shows me the different flavors of fudge. There are a lot of them and I''m allowed to pick the same one multiple times. I go with butter pecan, two butterscotch, maple pecan, maple walnut, vanilla, and vanilla sprinkle. Those also get added below the candy and donuts to avoid squishing the donuts.

    "Have a good day," I tell Mr. Vincent when I start to leave.

    "You as well, Xander!" He says. "I hope to see you again!"

    I leave the shop, then start to make my way to the park to meet Mr. Trey. After leaving, I remember that I''m supposed to text Mr. Trey to let him know I''m on my way back, so I pull out my phone and do that.

    Today has been a very good day so far, and I feel a lot calmer and happier than I''ve been since moving in with Mr. Trey. Maybe I should have asked to come visit the shops sooner.

    As I walk back to the park, though, I start to worry that maybe I took too long. What if Mr. Trey is upset about all the candy and donuts and fudge I got? Or that I spent some of my money without asking first?

    I''m not in the safe place anymore. A lot of bad things can happen now.

    When I reach the park, Mr. Trey is sitting on a park bench, talking with S.G. and his friends. Connor''s holding a basketball in his hands, while he and S.G. are both shirtless while Sam and Isaac are both wearing sleeveless shirts.

    "Xander!" S.G. exclaims when he sees me. "Hi! We came to shoot some hoops and saw Mr. Caldwell! He said you were doing stuff! That''s a cool crown! And Trenton has one, too!"

    Mr. Trey looks over and his eyes widen a little.

    "Where''d you get those?"

    "One of the shopkeepers," I tell him. "She made them for me and Trenton. I-I can take them off."

    "You don''t have to if you don''t want to," Mr. Trey says as I go to remove mine. "I was just surprised. Did you enjoy your visit there?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "I-is that okay?"

    "Why wouldn''t it be?"

    "Um¡­ I don''t know?"

    "We were going to ask if you wanted to shoot some hoops with us," Connor tosses up the basketball he was holding a little, then catches it. "But you look a bit sleepy. Were you talking with lots of people?"

    How''d he know?

    "Yeah," I nod. "A lot of them were wondering if I was okay ''cause I hadn''t been there in awhile. I am sleepy. And I don''t have a gun."

    "Shooting hoops is playing basketball!" Sam tells me.

    "Oh," my face heats up.

    Stupid fucking worthless brain.

    "Um¡­" I think. "I''m really sleepy. Sorry for not playing basketball."

    "It''s cool!" Connor says. "You get some sleep!"

    "C-can I?" I ask Mr. Trey.

    "Sure," Mr. Trey gets up the from the bench.

    "Bye, Xander!" S.G. waves to me. "Have a good sleep!"

    "H-have fun with the basketball," I say.

    After everyone says goodbye, Mr. Trey and I leave.

    "Do you want to go home now?" Mr. Trey asks. "So you can get a nap? I can wake you when it''s times for you to leave to be at the pet store for your usual time, if you want."

    "I-is that okay?"

    "Of course," he says. "You said you enjoyed the visit, and it looks like you came out with a lot of stuff. Your backpack looks stuffed. Did you buy stuff?"

    "Um¡­"

    "If you didn''t steal, I can''t see why you''d be in trouble for it."

    Oh. I guess that''s a good point. I''d have to explain how I got all the stuff, anyway.

    "The candy shop owner arm-wrestles," I say. "I got a pound of candy. I still lost, so I still had to pay some. And I paid some for subs at the sandwich place. And one store, the owner gave me a gift box to celebrate getting a foster dad. And the bakery gives away leftover donuts from the morning ''cause the baker doesn''t want to sell day-old donuts and she gave me some. And I won the card game so I got free fudge. But not chocolate fudge. And no chocolate candy. And the flower shop lady gives crowns to kids who need cheering up. Free. A lot of the workers and owners were out there and asked me how I was doing and if I was okay and stuff. And some of them wanted to talk a bit."

    "Sounds like you really enjoyed it," Mr. Trey says.

    That''s bad, isn''t it? He''s not going to let me go back, is he?

    "Y-yeah," I answer.

    "Did Trenton enjoy it, too?" Mr. Trey asks.

    I look down and tilt Trenton''s head up, but make sure not to mess up his flower crown.

    "He says he did," I look at Mr. Trey. "Though he wishes I''d gotten some chocolate fudge. He''s weird like that."

    "Because he likes chocolate?"

    "Well, that too," I say. "But he''s a stuffed animal. He can''t eat."

 Chapter 032

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "-with how much Xander''s eating, our food costs have gone way up," I freeze as I hear Ms. Katie say that.

    I press myself against the wall of the hallway, hoping they don''t see me. It sounds like they''re in the kitchen. They''re talking about me and will probably be mad if they learn I''m listening.

    "Is it that bad?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Oh, no! I''m doing bad stuff!

    "We factored in three hundred a month in additional food costs," Ms. Katie says. "Including eating out, ordering in, junk food, and having others over. Based on how much he''s eaten since we convinced him it was okay to eat until he was full, and with all of the baking, we''ll probably be spending at least fifteen hundred a month on food for him. And most of that is eaten here, not eating out or ordering."

    Oh, no! They''re gonna send me back because I''m eating too much!

    "Is it really that much?" Mr. Trey sounds unhappy.

    "Yeah," Ms. Katie says. "I spoke with Melody and Tristan earlier. According to them, Luke only eats that much when he''s been extra active with his magic. He''ll snack and stuff, but nowhere on the level that Xander does. At least, not normally. Since he''s being drained five days a week, his consumption has increased as well, though they assured me it''s not a problem.

    "Melody said that whatever spell Xander''s got active at all times," she continues. "It''s likely using up enough mana that his mana regeneration barely covers it. As he''s from a normal family, it''s probably just a potent self-enhancement spell out of a desire for not getting hurt as easily."

    I''m going to get into a lot of trouble, aren''t I? This is really bad! What do I do? How do I fix this? Stop eating as much? But then Mr. Trey would get mad at me for not doing what he said, right? Since he said to eat until I''m full and that it''s okay to get snacks if I''m hungry?

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "I''ll make sure the food account has more in it."

    "Can you afford that?" Ms. Katie asks.

    He can''t! That''s way too much money for food, especially for a worthless, stupid, pathetic boy like me!

    "Don''t worry about that," Mr. Trey says.

    "Trey," Ms. Katie''s voice is stern. "I know your company is a big player in the security market, but you don''t make a significant amount of money and I know there''s no way you''re going to take money out of the fund you''ve set up for Xander. You also spent a significant amount of money on making sure this place was safe for Xander, on paying for the teachers to come here during the summer to help him out, and you also have your other expenses, like your security guards. Former magic forces soldiers aren''t cheap. Nor are those mana-fueled cars you prefer."

    Oh, no! Now Ms. Katie''s going to get fired for talking back to her boss, and it''s all my fault!

    "I have enough," Mr. Trey tells her. "I can liquidate some assets so that there''s a stable fund in the food fund rather than needing to add more in every time I get paid, if needed. I''d rather that money go toward feeding Xander than do nothing but sit there."

    "He''s twelve, nearly thirteen," Ms. Katie says. "In the beginning stages of puberty, no doubt. What about when it really hits him? Teen boys eat quite a lot. I''m not saying we need to cut back on how much we''re feeding him, Trey, but you need to consider the future. How long before money runs out?"

    Mr. Trey is silent in response to that. Now she''s going to get into trouble, too, isn''t she? And because he has to fire her for talking back, he''s going to send me back to the home as punishment because it''s all my fault!

    "I''m just concerned," Ms. Katie says. "I don''t mind taking a hit to my salary if it means letting Xander eat more. How much I earn didn''t go down after I started staying here so there''s a decent amount just going into savings. But other changes might be needed, Trey, especially with looking into getting treatments for Xander. Are you really wealthy enough that you can keep dropping fifteen hundred a month on him without making sacrifices in other areas?"

    Mr. Trey takes a few seconds to respond.

    "You''re right," Mr. Trey says. "I''m spending a lot more than I expected and factored for with Xander."

    This is bad. This is really, really bad. He''s unhappy and he''s going to send me back.

    "I can afford it," Mr. Trey says. "I make more than I let on. It''s better to have a cushion, though. I''ll reduce my charitable contributions to cover it. Family comes first and if someone complains, I''ll just mention I went from not having any kids to raising a mage in puberty. If they have a problem with that, then they aren''t people I want to deal with. I''m already spending far more per month on charity than someone in my pay bracket normally would."

    Does that mean Mr. Trey''s reputation is going to get bad? I don''t want that to happen! It''s all my fault! He''s going to get mad at me once they start talking about him, then he''s going to send me back to the home!

    "Whatever you do," Mr. Trey says. "Don''t speak a word of this to Xander. We really should have had had this talk in the office. Thank the gods he sleeps for at least two hours after he interacts with others for awhile."

    I woke up after only twenty minutes, feeling really refreshed.

    "I won''t," Ms. Katie says. "And that''s why I wasn''t too concerned."

    "Good," Mr. Trey says. "If Xander knew I have to reduce my contributions to charity to keep my other balances the same, he''d blame himself and stress over it. He''s already got enough on his plate as it is. He needs to focus on just being a twelve-year-old boy."

    It really is my fault, though. There''s got to be something I can do to fix this, right? I can start eating less food. But then Mr. Trey would probably notice and then realize I eavesdropped and then get mad at me and send me back to the home for being a bad boy. I already messed up with the fire elemental, too. And I keep dropping stuff. And fixing my brain is too expensive.

    I-I need the dork!

    Wait. The dork! I could ask him! But not by text, that''s too complicated. I need to talk with him face-to-face. But how do I do that without Mr. Trey knowing where the dork''s workshop is? It''s not like he lets me go places without-oh!

    "-thinking of doing grilled chicken for dinner," Ms. Katie is saying as I start paying attention again. "Should I do wings or breasts?"

    They changed topics, so it''s probably safe for me to go in without having to reveal I heard them talking about me.

    "Breasts," Mr. Trey tells her. "Spicy for me, barbecue for Xander. I''m not sure if he told you, but he liked that barbecue sauce you made last week."

    "He did," Ms. Katie says as I leave the hallway to walk over to them. "Oh! Hello, Xander! That was a short nap."

    Mr. Trey looks over, looking surprised.

    "I feel more awake," I say. "I only slept for about twenty minutes but already feel refreshed."

    "That''s good," Mr. Trey says.

    "Um¡­"

    "Yes?"

    "Y-you said that if I braved through the doctor''s appointment yesterday," I say. "I could ask for one thing. Um. I think within season? So by the end of the summer, right?"

    "Reason," Mr. Trey says. "Within reason."

    "Oh, right," my face heats up. Stupid fucking worthless brain. "Um¡­ I was wondering¡­ um¡­ i-if¡­ if I c-could g-go to the dork''s w-workshop for a bit? W-without-without saying where it is. H-he''d be really m-mad and m-move it if I-if I told someone. I''ve never been hurt going there or coming from it. The dork says that ninja guard the path, but I think that''s just him mixing up his dreams with reality again. I-I want to ask the dork some stuff. And he''s usually there on Saturdays. And I miss hanging out with him."

    Mr. Trey thinks for a few seconds, then nods.

    "Alright," he says. "I''ll agree to this under a few conditions. First, you make sure you have your phone on you. Second, I drop you off somewhere that''s safe. Third, you contact me, Quinn, Roderick, Frank, or any of the other guards if you aren''t feeling safe. Fourth, you let me know when you want to get picked up, and where, and it''s before seven this evening. Fifth, you do not participate in anything illegal."

    He''s really going to let me go? Even though I''m not telling him where?

    "Tiffany told me that you never get hurt while you''re out doing your thing," Mr. Trey says. "While I''m not comfortable not knowing where you are in case something happens¡­ I''m going to trust this one time. Okay?"

    "Really?" I ask without meaning to.

    "Really," Mr. Trey says before I can apologize. "Why don''t you get ready to go?"

    I head to the bedroom and grab Trenton and my backpack, then return downstairs to find Mr. Trey ready to go as well.

    "Can I bring some of the stuff I got earlier?" I ask. "Some of the donuts and candy and fudge? The dork likes that sort of stuff."

    Though he also likes chocolate, but I''m not bringing any of that. I''m not going to touch it unless I have to in order to get permission to do stuff, like bringing dessert to the bowling alley the first time I did.

    "Sure," Mr. Trey answers. "But you need to bring some fruits and veggies, too. Can''t be eating only junk food."

    "The dork keeps a fridge of that," I tell him. "And a cabinet. And some shelves. It''s the magic fruits and veggies, too. And he says I''m allowed to have some whenever I''m there. I-is that okay?"

    Maybe saying I like the dork''s snacks better wasn''t the best of ideas. Mr. Trey''s going to be mad.

    "As long as you promise to eat some," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "I will," I promise.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says.

    Some of the food I received earlier gets put into my backpack, then Mr. Trey drives me to the Wolf''s Dragon, which is where I asked to be dropped off at. He reminds me of the conditions for being allowed to visit the dork''s workshop and makes me repeat them back to him.

    "See you later," Mr. Trey tells me. "Stay safe."

    "I''ll try," I tell him. "Bye."

    I wait until after Mr. Trey drives off, then leave the parking lot and make my way down the street, following the sidewalk along the forest. I eventually leave town and start walking through the forest. The dork says that there used to be a road here, but undergrowth from the forest decayed on it and covered it with soil, then more undergrowth grew on it.

    Or something like that. I don''t fully remember what he said.

    After awhile, I can spot the workshop. It''s an abandoned factory in a large clearing, though the wooden fence set up around the property isn''t old. It is faded in color and covered in ivy and stuff, but the dork used his magic to do that so that it looks old. There are a bunch of barrier magics on the fence to protect the workshop and it doesn''t let in anyone the dork doesn''t allow in.

    I climb over the fence and check around the sides, in areas sectioned off for the dork''s fun and experiments. There''s the spot where he likes blowing things up, and the spot where he practices magic, and the spot where he plays with his remote-controlled vehicles, and the small pond he likes to swim in and the stream that flows through the property and right beside the building¡­ but he''s not in any of them.

    He''s not inside the factory, either, but that''s okay. If he''s not here yet, he''ll probably be here soon. It''s a Saturday so it''s rare for him to not be here.

    There used to be two floors to the factory, but the dork somehow ripped out the upper floor to make it all just one massive space. In the center of the front half is the computer he''s working on, a device that''s thirty feet in height and about eighteen in length and about twelve in width, with all sorts of wires and other pieces exposed. Various parts are scattered around on the floor and nearby tables and shelves, and a few boxes are filled with things as well.

    I avoid getting too close to the computer, just in case my presence messes it up. There''s something wrong with it that the dork''s been trying to figure out and I''m nervous I''d mess that up and make it even worse.

    In the back-right corner is a small room the dork built, which is where the air mattress for us to sleep on if we need a nap is located. I''m still not sure how he managed to pop the last one¡­ unless he was playing in there instead of out here? He might''ve told me, but if he did, I forgot.

    The back-left corner is sectioned off with a big sign that says "XANDER''S ZONE". The dork made that and said that it''s my area to work in. He puts a lot of things in there for me to mess around with and even if I don''t really understand things, it''s kind of fun. If I use some of the guides he makes, I can even sometimes make functional things.

    I walk over to one of the fridges first and open it, finding it half-empty. There''s still plenty of food inside, though, and I grab a container of mixed fruit chunks and scoop some out into a bowl, then return the container to the fridge and carry the bowl into my corner.

    Taking off my backpack, I set it down and pull Trenton out, setting him on my workbench on the little chair the dork made for him.

    "Please don''t be noisy, so that I can focus, okay?" I stare at Trenton for a few moments. He doesn''t say anything, which usually means that he''ll be quiet for me. "Thanks."

    The device that the dork put on my workbench for me to access a database is moved, which probably means something on it was updated. I move the fist-sized device back to the spot I like it in, then tap on it to activate it. Light magics weave together above it to form a screen, and I start swiping.

    This is similar to the device they projected the scans of my brain on at the hospital yesterday, though the dork made this one. And it''s a lot smaller and the projections it creates aren''t as big as the ones on the table-like version, one of which is in another part of the workshop.

    "Oh!" I exclaim. "It''s a bunch of baking recipes¡­ but I didn''t see an oven?"

    Maybe the dork forgot that I won''t remember the recipes by the time I get back to Mr. Trey''s house?

    Or he meant to put the recipes on something else and other information on the device. He does that sometimes, like the time he accidentally put the "1,000 Ways to Prank My Brothers" list on the device instead of updating its magitech so that I could swipe on the magical projection to control things instead of using a mouse and keyboard.

    I look up the notes on my last visit here, grateful that the dork programmed the device to understand my horrible spelling and translate it into what I was trying to type (after removing the blueprints for a military base he''d put on by accident). I was working on a remote-control car of my own. The dork told me to give it a try and if I follow the directions listed, I should manage.

    Though the directions aren''t really "do this and then this", but "here are some things you could do" and I have to flip through the different options, pick the one I want to go with, and then it''ll give me the actual directions for it. Once I do that, I confirm it in the device, then it presents me the next set of things. If something goes wrong, I can input in what happened and it''ll help me figure out what went wrong.

    According to the dork, it''s meant to help people wanting to learn basic magitech. It mostly just confuses me, but it looks like I was thirty percent of the way into making the car, based on the progress tracker.

    I reach forty-three percent before the front door of the factory opens and the dork walks in. He''s a ten-year-old boy a little bit on the short side, just like me (on the height, not the age), with sandy-blond hair and blue-green eyes. He''s got a light tan and is currently dressed in a grey shirt with a griffin on the front, grey shorts with golden stripes on the sides, and black-and-grey sneakers with some golden patterns on them. He''s wearing his usual backpack, too, complete with a few griffin buttons pinned onto it.

    "Xander!" He exclaims, then hurries over. "You''re here!"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "Mr. Trey told me that if I braved the hospital yesterday, I could ask for something within reason. And I asked if I could come here without telling him where it is. He didn''t seem happy but he agreed. With conditions. I missed you. And I had questions."

    "What sorts of questions?" He asks as a pair of remote-controlled cars appear in his hands, probably teleported out of his backpack. "Look! I made remote-controlled cars earlier! I was only going to make one, but I was getting a feeling I should make two and my psychic gut is never wrong so I made two! We can battle them! I gave them laser guns and laser swords!"

    "Uh¡­ how are they going to fight with the swords?"

    The dork gets an "oh!" expression, then shakes his head a little and his expression turns serious.

    "I will figure that out later," he says. "Testing their lasers is more important. I want to make sure that the restriction on the laser magic is put in properly and didn''t want to do that at home. If I designed it right, the spells should only shoot about four feet forward before dissipating, so that people watching outside of the battle won''t be harmed by them."

    "You shot yourself by accident, didn''t you?"

    "I''ve already healed," he tells me. "You wanted to ask me something?"

    "Y-yeah," I put a pause on the screen so that it knows I''ve stopped working. "Um¡­ Mr. Trey said it''s okay to eat until I''m full. But I''m apparently eating lots and lots. And it''s making him spend a lot of money on food. Like. Too much money. And he''s gonna have to do stuff so that he can afford to feed me if I don''t stop. But he said it''s important for me to be fed over that stuff. I think that''s what he said. But he also got mad at the doctor because the doctor told him that fixing my brain would take too much money. I know I''m not making any sense but you''re the smartest person I know and I wanted to know if you knew if there''s a way to stop whatever spell it is that I''m casting that''s making me so low on mana, and maybe how to fix my brain without costing more than Mr. Trey can afford."

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    "You¡­ wait," the toy cars disappear, probably back into the dork''s backpack. "So¡­ you don''t know the spells you have going?"

    "Spells?" I ask. "It''s multiple?"

    "Yeah," he says. "I thought you knew? You didn''t?"

    "N-no," I shake my head. "Is-are they bad?"

    "So you''re not purposely casting those spells to keep yourself low on mana?"

    "No," I answer. "Why would I do that?"

    "To blend in with humans better."

    While he''s still thinking I''m a god, he''s not going to be wrong about me casting spells. His reasoning for why I''m casting them is what''s wrong here. I trust that he knows exactly what spells they are, now that he''s mentioned he knows them.

    "I''m not a god," I remind him. "What spells am I casting? Is it easy to make them stop so that I don''t have to eat as much food? How am I even casting them if I didn''t learn them?"

    "Strength of will," he answers. "It''s possible in the right bloodlines and since the incarnation you chose-"

    "I''m not a reincarnated god."

    "-was from the main branch of the Lumarikang family," he doesn''t stop. He rarely does for that. "You definitely have the right bloodline. Hm. It appears that the evil god that interfered with your reincarnation apparently messed with your memory more severely than I anticipated. Well. No matter. Once you''re back at full strength, you''ll be able to deal with him."

    I should probably not try to get him to realize I''m a human so that I can find out how to stop casting these spells. But he also mentioned something just as ridiculous: "Lumarikang" is his term for the Lumaria Kings.

    There''s no way I''m one of those. I don''t have an absurd healing rate or great talent with magic or anything like that. I''ve tried to learn magic and failed.

    "How do I stop casting the spells subconsciously?" I ask. "I think that''s the word?"

    "Subconsciously, yes," he nods. "If you''re not consciously casting the spells, then it would probably be easier for you to fix your brain and then wait for your subconscious to stop casting the spells which are no longer necessary."

    Those are words. I''m pretty sure they''re supposed to mean something¡­

    "Huh?"

    "In simpler terms," he says. "Several of the spells are taking over the duties that your brain would normally handle. Those spells are: a magical brain that handles some of what your actual brain is supposed to do, memory packets to record and store information you think is important, an animation spell to allow you to control your body when you''re tired or feeling particularly exhausted ¨C this one probably isn''t as active lately considering your body does seem to be in a better condition than it was a couple of months ago ¨C and a spell to allow your body to continue to grow properly, your cells running their normal processes. There are a few others, but those are the main ones."

    "I understood none of that."

    "I can explain it again after you fix your brain," he tells me. "You''ll probably remember it better. The memory packets aren''t made properly so some of them decay rather easily, and it only activates when you actually try to commit something to memory and subconsciously view it as important. They''re also how your entire memory actually functions right now, too."

    All I understood from that is that my memories are apparently in packets. Are they stapled together or just in, like, a folder or envelope? Maybe they''re in a binder?

    "Um¡­" I stare at the dork. "And how do I fix my brain? You make it sound so easy."

    "Well," he says. "I''m not sure what your specific regeneration rate is, but it''s probably extremely high. I doubt a god would reincarnate himself into a body with a low regeneration rate. With the Lumarikang lineage, our healing factor is normal for the body unless we have over five percent of our total mana pool in reserve. Once we hit that, our regeneration boosts up to its actual value. It''s sort of a fail-safe in order to ensure that we don''t use up too much mana, just in case we need it for defense."

    That sounds weird to me. I don''t think he''s really right.

    "But I''m not a Lumaria King," I say. "I don''t have the talent for it."

    "Well, you''re casting multiple high-level spells simultaneously," he says. "In addition to keeping your soul connected to your body. It''s essentially stapled on with your magic and the staples are decaying constantly, so you''re constantly repairing those staples. People can only do so much magic at once, so it''s understandable that you struggle with other spells. And it''s for that same reason that your regeneration factor isn''t at its real speed. You''re simply too low on mana all the time. On the Lumaria Mana Level scale, you only have 3 points normally. Right now, it''s actually a little bit higher ¨C you''re at 6 points on the scale. Your mana recovery rate is boosted at the moment, but it''s also being burned up to account for other things, like giving you energy, not letting you be as tired, helping you work on the remote-controlled car you were making, and so on."

    He really doesn''t like using the Lumaria Mana Level scale, so him using it seems weird to me. His preferred scale is one he invented on his own, which is really just the LML but times one hundred.

    "Huh?"

    "Even when you have boosted mana recovery due to having eaten enough," he says. "You remain low on mana due to the extra recovered being spent immediately to handle things you normally can''t afford. Basically, you''re constantly at less than 0.0001% of your mana capacity at all times. That''s nowhere near the 5% you need to be at for your body''s true regeneration to kick in."

    I''m looking into his eyes and I can tell that he''s completely serious. Everything he''s saying is true. At least, he believes it to be true, but I think that other than the bit about me being a god, he''s speaking facts.

    "Why do you think I''m a Lumaria King?"

    "Your dad and my dad were cousins," he answers. "Their dads were brothers ¨C and their dad was Adrian King. You didn''t know this?"

    "No," I frown. "How do you know this?"

    "I hacked the government database on you when we first met in case you were in charge of the Faction," he answers. "And discovered that you were an orphan in foster care. When I looked into your parents, I discovered that your dad and my dad were cousins. Hm. It appears I should have spoken of this sooner. My apologies, Xander."

    That was all truth¡­ I really am a Lumaria King? And the reason I struggled to learn magic before is because¡­ I''m apparently using a bunch of magic at all times?

    Also¡­ I forgot that he was already hacking when he was seven. The way he acts is really weird, and not really entirely like a ten-year-old.

    "Is my soul really stapled to my body?"

    "That''s the easiest way of phrasing it."

    "So¡­ um¡­ how do I fix my brain?" I ask. "If¡­ if I need a lot more mana, but am using up even extra that I make?"

    "Here," a bottle with a glowing, clear blue liquid appears in his hands. "This is liquidized magical energy infused into an alchemy brew designed to make it easily-digestible and allow for immediate recovery of one''s magical energy."

    That''s a lot of weird words put together in a weird way.

    "Huh?"

    "It''s a mana potion and immediately recovers a person''s mana upon being drunk," he says. "It''s tailored towards my own mana and would ordinarily recover around thirty percent of it from full if I were to drink it. You have a little bit more mana than I do, and it''s not tailored to yours, so there''s a fair bit of loss. You''d probably end up at about ten percent of your mana. That should be more than enough to let your natural regeneration rate activate."

    "That sounds really expensive."

    "I mean, yeah," he shrugs. "It''s worth millions of dollars. But I only had to pay for the bottle."

    "You stole the ingredients, didn''t you?"

    "Not this time!" He shakes his head. "Getting the stuff to make the base for it is easy enough on my own. And the magical energy in there is just my own mana. I crystallized it, then dissolved it into a liquid form, then made the potion. And I didn''t steal the ingredients for the base. Or acquire them illegally. They were obtained in no-man''s-land. Places where no one really has authority. Mostly. That herb garden I have also contains some of the ingredients."

    I''m still not sure¡­

    "And if I drink this, it''ll fix my brain and stop me from casting all of those spells without meaning to?"

    "Well, no," he enters my work zone and sets the bottle on the work table. "It''ll restore a significant amount of your mana, which will allow your regeneration to kick in. Since you''re a god, your brain will probably be fixed in seconds.

    "However," he says. "It won''t stop the spells you''re casting. As you and your body adjust to your normal brain handling things, you''ll subconsciously gradually lessen the other spells until they''re gone. And not all of those spells are for that. The self-enhancement is in case the evil god comes after you, and the soul-stapling¡­ yeah. That''s not related to your damaged brain, and it''s actually where the bulk of your mana recovery goes to supporting."

    One day, I''ll manage to get him to realize that I''m not a god and there''s no evil god coming after me. Santa''s even confirmed I''m not a god and since he is one, I''m fairly certain he would know better than the dork.

    "But¡­ I''ll stop using so much mana?" I ask.

    "Eventually," he answers.

    "And you''re just¡­ giving this to me?"

    "Well, yeah," he says. "I would''ve done that years ago if I knew you had zero clue. It would be really expensive to buy that, but it''s really cheap for me to make since it just takes some of my mana and some resources I can harvest myself. And I replenish the mana reasonably fast."

    I stare at the bottle of glowing liquid.

    "But how will this help with the food costs?" I ask. "If most of my spent mana is going towards keeping my soul stapled to my body, then won''t I still need lots of food?"

    "Well, yeah," he says. "But you won''t be using up all of your mana. And there are things you can do to earn money. You don''t even need to know magic to learn it, but with your mana not going nearly entirely to supporting spells, you can learn how to do things like this."

    The dork holds up his right hand and glowing blue wisps rise up from his palm and fingers, flowing into a spot above it. As it swirls around, it starts to get denser and denser, turning into a light blue crystal.

    "What''s¡­ that?" I ask.

    "A mana crystal," he answers. "One that sells for five hundred dollars. And you wouldn''t even need to eat to recover that much mana. It takes less mana to make this than you recover in an hour at your normal rate. Magic''s a bit unfair like that and we potent ones are even more unfair. You know how strong Luke is?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He''s got huge amounts of mana."

    "Right," the dork nods. "And you recover more than half as much as he can hold every hour. And that''s only about half a percent of your actual capacity."

    That seems¡­ like it would be really troublesome for me. But I really produce that much mana? The spells keeping me alive seem really intensive, then, if they require more than half as much mana every hour as Luke can hold to maintain. Someone would probably want to kidnap me and make me a battery for them. Or a cash cow. I really don''t want to be milked again.

    Or turned into a cow. I''m not sure how that really works.

    "But as I said," the dork says. "It''s just one possibility of what you can do to acquire money, if you wish to do so. But you should drink the potion so that your brain can get fixed. I didn''t know you weren''t aware of the spells and that you actually wanted it fixed, or I''d have given you one of these years ago."

    "Really for free?" I ask.

    "I mean, the bottle cost me, like, twenty bucks," he says. "But I''ll just wash it out and reuse it. Have used it for orange juice, like, fifty times already."

    Something seems really wrong about using a bottle for orange juice and potions.

    "Oh," he says. "But there might be a really severe side effect."

    "W-what?"

    "Well," he says. "Since you''re burning your mana basically as fast as you''re using it, your body isn''t used to having that much mana in it. You should be able to adjust to it pretty quickly considering your true nature, but there will probably be an extremely burning feeling throughout your entire body."

    "But my brain will get fixed?"

    "In seconds," he says.

    Probably not in seconds as I''m sure he''s overestimating my regeneration ability. I''m still not really sure about me being a Lumaria King but he really was honest when he said he found out that we were related when looking into my past. If he''s confirmed that we''re related, then we are.

    "O-okay," I look at Trenton. "Don''t attack the dork if this goes bad."

    "He''s just a teddy bear, how could he attack me?" The dork asks very seriously.

    Trenton is not just a teddy bear. He''s magic. And he gets upset when people say that he''s just a teddy bear. It''s one of the only things we argue about and I don''t want to argue right now, I want my brain fixed.

    "Okay," I look at the dork. "I''ll drink it even though it''s really expensive, but only because you''re insisting it''s okay because it only cost you time and work. But¡­ can you do a favor? Just in case this goes bad and you''re wrong and I end up dead?"

    "It won''t, but sure."

    "Remind me what your name is?"

    "You can call me ''the dork''."

    "I want to at least know your name in case this kills me," I say. "Please?"

    "It won''t go wrong," he sighs. "But fiiiiiiiiine. It''s Greyson."

    Right. Greyson.

    "T-thanks," I say. "And¡­ thanks for the help."

    I open the bottle and start drinking.

    "Not so fast!" The dork exclaims, but a little bit too late.

    The potion entered me a lot faster than I''m used to drinking things, almost like my body was trying to suck it in like my life depends on it.

    Immediately, I can feel energy flowing through my body, and a lot of it. Just as the dork said, my body begins to feel as if aflame. I can''t help but scream from the pain, my mind going fuzzy. I''m only vaguely aware of Greyson helping me out of my work station and over to the rest zone and onto the air mattress that feels surprisingly like a real mattress.

    After the fire in me fades, my body aches for awhile. I just lie here on the mattress, which turns out to be a real one, until the aching fades. When I get up and leave the resting room, I find Greyson staring intently at his massive computer while fiddling with a remote-control tank in his hands, not even looking down at it as he works.

    "Oh, hey, you''re up and moving," Greyson looks over as I approach, though I keep a safe distance from the computer. "Hm. It took two and a half hours, not seconds. That''s weird. I was fairly certain I did my math right. Well, I guess that just means the evil god managed to interfere with even that."

    "There''s no evil god," I say. "And what do you mean ''two and a half hours''?"

    "Your brain," he says. "It''s regenerated. All the dead bits are alive and it''s grown to how it should be. So it''s no longer broken."

    Already?

    "So now I''m just stupid instead of stupid with a broken brain?"

    "You''re even smarter than I am."

    "That''s¡­ not true," I tell him. "You''re mixing up your dreams with reality again, dork. Um. Greyson."

    "That''s what you think," he looks back at the machine. "I bet you really want to pay me back somehow for that potion, don''t you?"

    "It didn''t cost you much to make, but it was still really expensive¡­"

    "And it was mine to do with as I please," he says. "I''ve got, like, fifty more of them. I brewed them up in that cauldron over there a few months ago for the sole purpose of seeing if I could. By my estimates, it will take six years, nine months, eighteen days, twenty-three hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds before I actually have need of using one."

    Just what sort of math did he do to get that number?

    "By that time," he says. "They would have expired if I didn''t place them in stasis. If anything, me giving you one simply avoided letting it go to waste. They may be valued high, but again, their cost was insanely low in comparison. Even Luke couldn''t get a rate that good, and his family makes the ones they have for him. They, too, grow some of the ingredients necessary to cut down on costs.

    "Anyway," the remote-control tank vanishes. "I helped fix your brain, can you finally help me with something you''re really resistant about?"

    "You want me to help with the computer¡­ but what if I break it?" I ask. "I''m really stupid, Greyson. And I''m not good at fiddling with stuff. I keep messing up the stuff I mess with in my zone."

    "Well, yeah," he walks around to the front of the massive computer as a fist-sized object appears in his hands. "But you don''t need to touch it. I''ve attempted to explain that before, but it was clear you were struggling to understand."

    He sets the object on the ground, and a giant projection of a series of glowing blue markings weaves itself together above it. Those markings match the computer''s design. Does he want me to look at this instead of it?

    I guess that would make sense, just to make sure I don''t break the actual computer itself.

    "These are all of the enchantment matrices, enchantment lines, mana flows, mana-oh, you''re lost," he says. "Basically, it''s a record of all of the lines and spots of magic and magical energy in the computer. Something in this, somewhere, is messed up. But I can''t figure out what, and even my device for reading magical energy isn''t picking up on it. I''m hitting a slowdown point because I cannot for the life of me figure out what''s going on. Can you use your magesight and tell me what you see?"

    "You have a device that can read magical energy?"

    Can''t he just see the magic, anyway?

    "Yeah," he nods. "The short version is that it''s able to read mana and magical energy ¨C which is technically different from just mana ¨C when it''s in certain states. That allows the device to create a readout of enchantments. It''s similar to the device which scanned your brain, though that one was technically weaker than this one and focused more on active mana, magics, and residue."

    None of that makes sense to me, but I get the feeling that it''s not really important.

    "Then why would mine be better?"

    "Your magesight functions in a fundamentally-different way," he answers. "And I can''t make further tweaks and improvements to the computer until I know what''s causing it to heat up. Magitech isn''t supposed to heat up unless it''s designed to. Can you use your mage-sight and tell me if there''s anything that looks different? Oh, wait, hold on."

    Greyson swipes in front of the projection and a screen appears, then he taps and swipes on the screen a few times. Some of the glowing lines and patches change color. Now it resembles the computer''s design even more, except there are bits missing.

    "There," he says. "I think that should match the colors you''ll see, based on what I''ve observed and inquired about on the occasions you use your mage-sight here. Forgot it defaults to just plain blue."

    "You just¡­ want me to look at the computer with my mage-sight?" I ask. "And then tell you if stuff is different?"

    "Yeah," he nods.

    I can do that, so I activate my mage sight and start looking at the computer.

    "Um¡­ there''s something there that''s different," I say, then turn around and point at a spot on the projection. "Right there."

    "Here," Greyson hands me a pen that appears. "Draw with that and don''t worry if the lines aren''t perfect. I just need to know where problems are. You can zoom in the normal way if you need to. And for colors, you can draw a quick circle with the back of the pen and it''ll pull up a color wheel. Pick the color from there ¨C it doesn''t have to be exact ¨C and it''ll change the pen''s color. To change the brush, tap three times with the back of the pen."

    That sounds complicated, but at least I know Greyson is okay with explaining things to me over and over again. I''ll probably have to ask him what to do for those¡­ several times.

    For the next hour, I walk around the computer and examine different parts of it with my mage-sight, though I have to rest a few times because it gives me a headache to use it for so long. There are several areas with things that aren''t in the projection that Greyson made and while I''m not really sure if they''re real or hallucinations, Greyson seems to accept them.

    "But how does that happen?" He asks as I adjust the color for one set of lines and add in another line. "It doesn''t even-oh! You weren''t done yet!"

    I change the brush and color and make some sweeping motions, connecting some more of the lines with that. This is how I''m representing what looks like particles moving between areas.

    "That''s what''s causing the heat-up!" Greyson exclaims. "There''s interference coming from another set of magic flows and it''s creating another magic flow when the two mix! If I''m right, then that additional one''s sending heat through the pathways! My mana-reader must not have picked up on it because it''s too faint. At least, if that''s why you made the line so see-through? Or it could also be a different mana state than what my analyzer can read."

    What are mana states? He''s mentioned them several times since I started doing this and I have zero idea what it''s supposed to me. I''m also a bit nervous to ask.

    "It''s really faint," I tell him. "B-but what if I''m just hallucinating?"

    "Nah," he says. "That''s got to be it. The conclusion I''ve come to is based on the way you colored those particles and the coloration of that line. Based on the way you perceive magic and my own knowledge of magic, those colors in that combination, linking into the other pathways, makes it a heat-generating enchantment. It looks like this pathway here is leaking energy for some reason, so I''ll need to fix that, and once I do that, I''ll have to run some tests, but I''d be willing to bet a box of my favorite cookies that as soon as I get rid of that unintended flow, the heat will stop."

    "Greyson?" It''s better to interrupt before he gets lost into his own flow.

    "Hm?"

    "I sometimes have that start to happen when I work," I tell him. "The magics saying hi to each other, I mean. I didn''t know they make a baby that makes heat fields, though. Um. I just separate them and put a connector between. I just thought I was doing something wrong."

    "Oh!" His face lights up. "That''s a good idea! It might work! Thanks! Are you done, or is there more? I had to turn the mega computer on so that you could get the best view."

    Him mentioning that the computer is on just reminded me of something.

    "I''m done," I tell him. "Um¡­ but I had a question."

    "Sure."

    "If you can make mana crystals, can''t you make power cores?"

    "Yeah."

    "How come you teleport into Gatewood Energy and swap money for them?" I ask. "You''re not even properly buying them. You told me you were, but you aren''t."

    And I''ve also learn that he stole the bomb¡­ there''s no way they would have let a ten-year-old just buy one. So he had to have stolen the bomb from wherever he acquired it.

    "I''m exchanging money for them," he says. "That''s how you buy things."

    "But you''re not doing it right," I say. "And it''s upsetting them."

    "Buying them the proper way would require involving our great-grandfather," he says. "And if Adrian King is involved, then there will be oversight on me. Oversight on me means the inability to complete my mega computer. The mega computer is going to change the world. There can be zero oversight until after it is completed."

    "But it''s really upsetting them and causing them headaches," I say. "And can''t you make your own? You''re smart enough to, right?"

    "I kept getting shocked when I tried, so I gave up," he says. "Making them is bothersome. Robbing mobs and using their cash to acquire the cores is simpler, faster, and doesn''t result in me getting nasty shocks."

    He''s¡­ robbing mobs?

    "Oh!" He suddenly exclaims. "I completely forgot, but want to play with the laser cars? We can do that for a bit before I try and fix the problem with the computer! I need to mentally review the schematics and enchantments and run some simulations, anyway."

    "Sure," I answer. "Wait! Oh, no!"

    "What?"

    "It''s after six and it takes more than an hour to get the Wolf''s Dragon!" I say. "And that''s where I was going to ask Mr. Trey to pick me up from! And that has to be before seven!"

    "I can teleport you there if you want," Greyson looks back at the projection, then nods and teleports the laser cars into his hands. "Let''s do laser cars!"

    "But it''s also dinnertime¡­" I say. "And if you don''t eat now, you''re going to forget. And can you really teleport us? I know you can teleport yourself and small objects, but¡­ other people?"

    "Sure," he shrugs. "It''s how I got your last foster family to the griffins. That was three people all at once, and three years ago. I''m even better at it now. You''re right. Let''s play with the laser cars after dinner."

 Chapter 033

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xaaaaaaandeeeeeeeeeeer!" Greyson whines when we arrive in the parking lot of the Wolf''s Dragon.

    That''s his annoyed voice and face, but I know that when it''s him, it''s never anything too big. I used to get really nervous whenever he started getting annoyed, but he''s never hurt me (on purpose), and never out of annoyance at me.

    "What?" I ask.

    "I told you to keep your mouth closed while we were teleporting!"

    "I didn''t mean to open it," I look down. "Sorry. I don''t know why I did. Or even that I did. Um¡­ why did you want me to keep my mouth closed, though?"

    "Because you were eating the leaking mana," he says. "But the spell was designed to pull it back in. Sort of. To reuse it and reduce the cost. The teleport gate you used yesterday does the same thing."

    "I¡­ eat mana?"

    "You didn''t know?"

    "Let''s just establish that if you think I know something and it relates to magic, I probably don''t."

    "You eat a certain type of active magic," he says. "A lot of magics leak out mana when cast, including devices. A lot of the more mana-intensive ones are also designed to pull it back in and reuse it, especially on the bigger spells and setups. That''s why the teleport gate had a weird drain on both trips you were on but not others ¨C because you were eating some of the mana that leaked out before it could be sucked back in, which resulted in it needing more mana. Before, you were probably using the consumed mana to support other spells or energize yourself or something. Now that you''ve got plenty of mana left, it''s just being kept stored in reserve."

    "Is that¡­ is that bad?" I ask. "The bit about me eating mana?"

    "Nah," he says. "It just means I had to send more mana on the teleport. It was just annoying. But since it''s you, it''s okay. It''s not like you''re a malicious mana-eater. And you assimilate it into your own mana just fine. You''ve already converted more than half of it. For someone who''s not a mana-eater¡­ yeah, it could be difficult. Could adversely affect your own mana."

    "Luke eats lightning," I say. "And lightning magic. Is that the same thing?"

    "Sort of," Greyson nods as we start walking to the path leading up to the Wolf''s Dragon. "But it''s not quite the same. Think of him more like a lightning-eater. With the lightning he eats, there''s very little mana left in it. Most of the mana''s already been converted into something else. What little bit left isn''t enough to affect him and his body purges it from him since he''s not really built for assimilating external mana. There would really only be a problem if he was trying to eat and convert lightning that was made of mana rather than formed by it, but he''s too smart to try something like that. He knows it would mess up with his body and magic."

    "Are you sure he''s that smart?" I ask. "I know everyone says he''s a magitech genius, sort of like, you but he doesn''t seem that bright. I know it''s really mean to say, but while he''s good with the classes¡­ I dunno. He doesn''t really seem that intelligent. I think that''s the right one."

    "His abilities with magitech are respectable," Greyson states. "As is his knowledge and skill with magic. Trust me, he''s smart enough to not eat lightning made out of mana rather than lightning formed from it."

    I don''t really know the difference but am too nervous to ask. My brain my be fixed, but the explanation is probably too much for my stupid self to understand.

    "Okay," I look down at Trenton, who I''m carrying in my arms. "Trenton''s still doubting, though."

    "Trenton''s just a teddy bear," Greyson says. "He can''t doubt."

    "Don''t listen to him," I whisper to Trenton. "He just can''t hear you because you''re too quiet."

    "Well, anyway," Greyson says. "That''s why I keep asking you to close your mouth whenever I''m doing big magics. Because I can''t help but leak mana in them, so I design the spells to draw back in some of that leaked mana to reuse. I can''t get it to draw it all back in, but drawing back in as much as possible saves me mana."

    "You teleported thousands of miles to rob a mob," I say. "Then teleported thousands of miles back. And you''re worried about mana loss in a teleport that''s only a few miles?"

    "Exactly!" He nods. "I need to save my mana for when I do the bigger teleports. Or when I slip out of the perception of others, or when I manipulate my own time-"

    "You do what?"

    "It helps me get places faster."

    Anytime I learn something more ridiculous about him, it makes me wonder if he is a god. He can manipulate time, and it sounds like he does it regularly.

    I''m not really sure how to respond to that, and Greyson doesn''t say anything else, so the rest of the walk to the Wolf''s Dragon happens in silence. When we enter, Emily and someone unfamiliar to me are serving customers and Cal is doing something behind the counter.

    "Well that''s an interesting sight," Cal says. "Xander, here this late? And Greyson, setting foot in here? Please tell me he''s not bothering you, Xander."

    "You know him?" I ask.

    "I would hope so," Cal chuckles. "He''s one of my younger brothers that I''ve told you about."

    I look at Greyson, who''s giving me an innocent look.

    "You never told me you were Cal''s brother."

    "It must have never come up."

    That means he deliberately avoided telling me.

    "So you two know each other?" Cal asks. "I hope he doesn''t bother you, Xander. He''s quite the problem when his mind gets set on something."

    "He''s never bothered me," I say. "He''s very nice."

    "I distracted him for awhile," Greyson tells Cal. "I''m buying him dinner. His foster dad''s going to be here soon to join us."

    I texted Mr. Trey after Greyson agreed to dinner and told him I was almost ready to get picked up, though I left out that we were teleporting here. He''s apparently nearby and will be here soon, too.

    "Wait," I say. "I didn''t agree to you paying for dinner. I can do it. I''ve got some of my allowance left."

    "Do you want to pay?" Greyson asks. "Because I''d like to pay. You helped me out a lot and I distracted you and nearly made you late."

    "But I''m not really worth paying for," I say. "I can pay for myself."

    "You owe me for the help I provided you," Greyson says. "Therefore, you will allow me to cover the cost of your meal."

    "That''s not how owing people works," I say.

    "Boys," Cal says. "Stop. Let me finish putting in this note, then I''ll seat you in my section. And neither of you are paying. I''ll ask Dad to just comp the meal. Greyson''s allowance doesn''t even cover half of what he''d eat."

    "But-"

    "Xander," Cal fixes his gaze on me. "No. Don''t worry about it."

    Oh no! He told me no! I don''t think I was being clear enough and that''s all my fault! How do I explain what I was trying to say? Maybe he won''t be mad at me, then?

    "Cal," I say. "Greyson just used a lot of magic. He''s gonna want to eat a lot of food. A lot more food."

    "Magic?" Cal raises an eyebrow as he looks at Greyson. "What did you do this time? Papa''s not going to get a call from the cops again, is he?"

    Dad? Papa? This is confusing. Wait. The cops have gotten involved with Greyson? I did recently learn that he''s broken some bigger laws than I knew about, like him stealing the bomb rather than paying for it, but I didn''t know the cops have actually caught him a few times.

    "I teleported us here so that Xander wouldn''t be late," Greyson says.

    "Teleporting again?" Cal groans. "Please at least tell me you weren''t in the view of others when you arrived."

    Is this a regular occurrence?

    "I surrounded us with a perception filter so we wouldn''t be noticed."

    "If you''d rather be seated separately from him, you can," Cal says, then looks behind us. "Hello, Mr. Caldwell."

    "Good evening, Cal," Mr. Trey says as I look at him. "Hello, Xander. And you must be Greyson? Henry''s not as fit as you."

    "I am Greyson," Greyson says. "You''ve met Henry?"

    "I''ve seen him here a few times," Mr. Trey says.

    "He''s the dork," I whisper to Mr. Trey. "I didn''t know he was one of Cal''s younger brothers."

    "Greyson is the dork?" Mr. Trey asks. "Seriously?"

    "Yes."

    "I really should have seen that coming," he mutters.

    "That does not sound good," Cal says.

    "Xander''s been mostly positive about him," Mr. Trey says. "Mostly finds him a dork and couldn''t remember his name. Xander, is Greyson sitting with us?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He said he wants to pay for me, but I said-"

    "And I said," Cal interrupts. "Don''t worry about. Let me finish putting this note in and I''ll seat you guys. If you want, just sit at the table there by the door and I''ll bring your menus and silverware after."

    We sit down at that table, with Greyson on the same seat bench as me but on the inside, with me on the aisle, and Mr. Trey sitting across from us and our backpacks between him and the wall. After a minute, Cal brings us menus and rolls of silverware. He takes drink orders from us, then checks a couple of his other tables before getting our drinks. After that, he heads to the back, returning a few minutes later.

    "Dad cleared it," Cal tells me. "So don''t worry about the cost, Xander. Dad''s exact words ¨C and I''m quoting here ¨C were ''if Xander is able to tolerate Greyson enough that they''re friends, then he deserves a free meal from us; tell him to order as much as he wants''. And Dad would pay for Greyson''s meal regardless. His kids eat free here."

    "Xander eats a lot as well," Mr. Trey tells Cal. "If he eats more than David''s willing to pay, I''ll cover the cost. Don''t worry about it."

    "You just-barely missed it," Cal tells Mr. Trey. "But Greyson''s a very powerful mage who wields potent magics. He teleports around like some kids eat candy. We''re lucky that he usually only uses it to get around. Honestly, the most trouble he gets into is when he trespasses to search for magic insects."

    "Right," Mr. Trey stares at Greyson, probably remembering that he somehow knows about "the dork" being the one who teleports to the Gates'' company and takes power cores from there. Or how I accidentally let slip that he breaks the law regularly. Or any number of other things that I''ve probably forgotten. "That''s the most trouble he gets up to."

    "Dammit, Greyson," Cal mutters.

    "I''m innocent of all claims against me," Greyson states.

    "Including being innocent?" Cal asks.

    "That is not a claim, that is a fact."

    "But that''s a lie."

    "Xandeeeeeeeer!" Greyson whines as Cal snorts.

    "Anyway," Cal looks at Mr. Trey. "If Xander out-eats Greyson, I''d be impressed, especially since the brat teleported them here."

    "I''m not a brat, you are."

    "That wasn''t planned," I tell Mr. Trey. "Things took longer than expected and then we got distracted with something. Then because the dork was going to teleport us here, he wanted to talk some more about some stuff."

    There''s silence between us for several seconds.

    "Would you guys like to order your appetizers?" Cal asks.

    To Cal''s surprise, I do end up eating more than Greyson does. Now that I know what sort of spells I have running at all times, I''m not too surprised by my massive appetite. Cal really doesn''t charge us for any of the food ¨C not even for what Mr. Trey eats.

    "Okay," Greyson says once we''re all done eating and we''re getting out of the booth. "Now it''s time to go play with the laser cars, Xander."

    "Mr. Trey only let me go to your workshop as long as I was picked up by seven," I tell him. "And it''s past that now. So I can''t go. But¡­ maybe next time?" I hesitate before looking at Mr. Trey. "If¡­ it''s okay to go again sometime?"

    "Hold on," Cal says. "Greyson, did you say ''laser cars''? What did we tell you about making weapons?"

    "The spell formulas are designed to be low-power and to come undone after a certain distance," Greyson says. "Only about four feet. As long as they work properly, they aren''t useful as weapons. It''s like the robotics club at school: I made them to fight each other. Only with magitech instead of scientech."

    "Halve the range," Cal tells him.

    "You can''t make me," Greyson''s backpack appears in his hands, and he pulls it on. "I''ll see you next time, Xander!"

    "Greyson-" Cal reaches for Greyson''s backpack, but Greyson vanishes before his brother can succeed.

    That boy is gone.

    "I''m going to have to talk with Dad and Papa about this," Cal sighs. "We keep telling him not to make weapons, but he doesn''t listen."

    Mr. Trey gives me a strange look, then snorts and looks at Cal.

    "Earlier this year," Mr. Trey says. "Did Greyson vanish for a few days?"

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "A couple, yeah," Cal nods. "Why?"

    "According to what Xander told me," Mr. Trey says. "He made muffins using explosive powder and the one he bit into exploded when he did. He''s not just making weapons."

    Oops. Me and my stupid, formerly-broke brain probably just caused Greyson problems. Though I don''t think his brother and his dads are really going to be able to do anything about it. Greyson can teleport and manipulate time and people''s perception. It would probably take Adrian King to put a leash on him.

    "Argh!" Cal throws his hands up into the air.

    "Everything alright?" Emily walks over.

    "Greyson''s apparently making bombs again," Cal says. "At least he doesn''t have them in the house anymore¡­ I hope. The last thing we would need is Henry finding muffins sitting around, taking a bite, and then exploding. I swear, that boy''s ability to heal himself pretty fast is the only reason he''s still alive. And his ability to make shields in an instant. Did I tell you about that time he got hit by a car because he wasn''t paying attention?"

    They think Greyson heals himself, not that he''s got a really good regeneration? Does that mean they don''t? Should I say something? No, I shouldn''t. Maybe? But Greyson would be really upset with me. I''m so confused!

    "You guys have a good night," Mr. Trey chuckles. "Xander and I should be heading home now."

    "Have a good night," Emily says.

    "See you next time," Cal says.

    Mr. Trey and I head to his car and get in, and once we''re both buckled, he starts driving.

    "Did you have fun while hanging out with Greyson?" Mr. Trey asks. "Get the answers you wanted? You don''t need to tell me what your questions were, don''t worry."

    "I did," I tell him. "Um¡­ I know it was really wrong and I''m really sorry for being bad, but I heard you and Ms. Katie talking earlier, and-"

    "What?" Mr. Trey whips his head around to look at me, then quickly looks back at the road. "Dammit. That''s our fault, Xander. You normally take two-hour naps so we didn''t expect you to come down. Do not worry about what you heard. It''s not your concern. I can afford the extra money for feeding you. It''s not a problem. I promise."

    "But-"

    "No," Mr. Trey interrupts me. "Don''t worry about how much you eat. It''s okay. Family comes first and that''s what you are, Xander ¨C you''re my son. I''d rather make sure you get fed than donate to charity. And it won''t be a problem once-anyway. My company is working on a project and once it releases, how much extra I''ll earn per month will more than cover how much it''s costing to feed you. Until then, I have plenty of money I can use. I''ve honestly been donating more to charity than someone of my financial status normally does simply because I didn''t see the point in having too much just sitting there. So seriously, don''t worry about it. Just focus on being you, okay? If you need to eat a lot of food, then you need to eat a lot of food, alright?"

    That still doesn''t make me fell good. He''s taking money away from people in need just to feed me and then doesn''t want me to stop eating this much? It''s so confusing. Why would he do that for someone who''s worthless?

    "Okay," I say. "But, um¡­ can we not worry about my brain anymore?"

    "Why?"

    "Um¡­ it''s not important."

    "Xander," Mr. Trey sighs. "I know you suffer from depression and being suicidal and while I really wish you''d agree to talk with a therapist-"

    "That''s not it!" I exclaim. "Um¡­ sorry for interrupting. But it''s not important. He said¡­ stuff¡­ and there was stuff¡­ and, um¡­ stuff and¡­ stuff¡­ and Lumaria King stuff¡­ and stuff¡­ and blah blah blah¡­ and stuff¡­ and now it''s not important anymore."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few seconds and that makes me really nervous because it''s probably obvious I was trying to not explain.

    "Does that mean Greyson knew why you were still alive despite your brain''s state meaning you shouldn''t have been?" Mr. Trey finally asks.

    "He thought I was casting the spells on purpose," I say. "And messing them up on purpose so that they needed more mana to work. He''s really smart¡­ but he can be a bit stupid sometimes. I know it''s wrong to call people stupid, but¡­ why would I want to live with a broken brain? And bad memory? And problems gripping things?"

    "It was your own magic?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I was subconsciously casting spells. Including a magic brain to act like my real brain. But it wasn''t cast properly so it wasn''t working right."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few seconds.

    "You just don''t want to go to the doctor''s again, am I right?"

    "I don''t want to go to the doctor''s again," I confirm. "But I''m not sure why that matters? My brain doesn''t need fixing anymore so it''s okay."

    Mr. Trey taps a thumb on the steering wheel a few times.

    "I''ve attempted to reach out to Adrian King," Mr. Trey tells me. "To see if there''s something we can work out for treating your brain¡­ just in case I can''t find another method. The treatment is far too expensive and you''re only alive by a miracle-"

    "By my magic, apparently."

    "-and if Adrian King is feeling generous enough towards a boy in your situation," Mr. Trey continues without acknowledging my interruption. Bad Xander! "Then he may be willing to work out something that''s within my means. And again, don''t worry about my finances, Xander. I''ve got plenty of money."

    "Oh, um¡­ speaking of money," I remember something. "How much are the mana crystals for the car?"

    "What did I just say?"

    "Greyson said you use more expensive-"

    "More expensive vehicles, yes," Mr. Trey interrupts. "It''s a choice that I, an adult, made. Mana crystals cost more than gas for fueling a vehicle, but they''re renewable and cleaner. It doesn''t produce any pollution like a gas-guzzler does or require harsh mining methods to make things like the systems needed for electric cars. I prefer it. And again, I''m not worried about how much it costs to feed you. Katie''s just concerned that I won''t be able to continue to feed you at this rate. It really isn''t a problem, okay? I promise, Xander."

    That first bit sounded like I did something wrong, but I don''t know what and I''m scared to ask because I''m probably supposed to know it already. Stupid me!

    "Okay¡­"

    "To answer your question, though," Mr. Trey says. "A ''good'' gas-powered SUV can get about thirty miles per gallon. With gas at two-forty a gallon, that''s around eight cents per mile. This SUV gets around eighty miles per unit of magic in the crystals, and those cost twenty dollars per unit, or twenty-five cents. So a little bit more than three times the price. I keep all four slots filled, and I buy ones with ten units of mana in them, or two hundred dollars per crystal. Each crystal typically lasts me three or four weeks, depending on how much driving I do."

    "So it takes four crystals with ten units of mana?" I ask.

    "It has slots for four," he says. "But it only needs one to have something in it, and the mana amount can vary. The car will just not work if there isn''t any mana going into it through there. I keep extras in just in case one runs out while I''m driving and I''m not able to replace it right away. Why are you interested in this?"

    "I whacked the dork on the head and he gave me a crystal with five hundred units of mana."

    "You did what?"

    "I whacked the dork on the head," I repeat. "Then he gave me a crystal with five hundred units of mana. Well, he made it first and said ''here, this can go in the SUV'' and I got really confused."

    "He made the crystal?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I open up my backpack and pull out the crystal, which is about the size of my fist. "I whacked him on the head because he''d just made another that had five thousand units of magical energy just to demonstrate it to me again. Making the crystals, I mean. It''s apparently just manipulating and condensating your mana in a specific way."

    It''s okay to whack the dork on the head, and he even tells me that I should when he does something really ridiculous. I used to get nervous about doing it, but I''ve learned it''s okay to whack him on the head as long as I don''t touch his ears when doing so.

    "Condensing?" Mr. Trey says.

    "Probably."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments.

    "Mr. Trey?"

    "Hold on," he taps something on the screen for the car''s menu, then makes a call.

    "Hello?" That voice sounds familiar, and they picked up rather fast.

    "Sorry for calling so late in the evening," Mr. Trey says. "But I have a question, Melody. Do you have a minute?"

    That''s¡­ Luke''s mom, right?

    "I''m just watching Luke use our mana-reader," Mrs. Gates responds. "What''s going on?"

    "How feasible is making mana crystals out of your own mana?"

    "Depends on your skill," she answers. "It requires constantly infusing the entire spot with an amount of mana in a quantity that increases quickly but steadily. We utilize a similar principle to create the power cores. For most people, it''s not something they could ever hope to have enough mana to do, though Tristan and I both know how and Lucas learned last year. It saves us quite a bit on fuel since we can make our own for our cars and generators. Lucas-"

    "Mooooooooooooom!" I can hear Luke protesting in the background.

    "Sorry," Mrs. Gates says. "Luke wants us to make a car that can run by infusing mana directly into it by the time he''s old enough to drive¡­ sometimes, he forgets that we''re a power company, not a car company."

    "So it''s possible to just make a mana crystal?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yes," Mrs. Gates answers. "However, there''s a significant amount of mana loss during the process. How much is lost depends on the skill level of the mage. I have excellent control over my mana and still need to spend around fifty percent extra to produce a crystal. Some of the ones you''ll find in the legal market are from people with more mana than normal who''ll use up most of their mana to make a crystal to earn some extra cash. A few days of recovery, and they can do it again. Though we with enough to produce stronger ones don''t often do so, as we have other things to focus our efforts on. We would also prefer to not be used as batteries for others."

    "An understandable concern," Mr. Trey says. "Xander was hanging out with the ''dork'' again today and it''s come up as part of a discussion about what they did."

    "If we''re right about him being the boy who teleports in here to get power cores," Melody says. "He has more than enough mana to produce his own power cores, and I know he''s smart enough."

    "He kept getting shocked when trying and gave up," I say. "And said that having to deal with a generator is troublesome. That''s why he wants power cores for now."

    "Oh, hello, Xander."

    "Hello, Mrs. Gates."

    "Xander?" I hear Luke ask. "He''s there, too? Can I-"

    "Focus on the scan, Luke," Mrs. Gates says. "He showed up at the office this morning."

    That second part sounded like it was directed to us, not Luke.

    "I told him to stop doing that," I tell Mrs. Gates. "But I don''t think he''s going to listen to me. Oh! Can you tell Luke that I''m apparently the reason there was a weird power drain on the teleport gates yesterday? I apparently eat leaking mana without realizing it and the gates are apparently designed to suck back in the mana they leak to recycle and use to lessen how much energy they cost¡­ sorry¡­ I didn''t know I did that."

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    It is a good thing Papa purchased a new suit for me when he went shopping for other clothes for me to wear. The suit looks good on me, and while I really want to go with my grey tie with griffins on it, this is a more formal meeting I am going to. A plain black tie will go with the suit¡­ though I''m still going to wear my sneakers because I don''t like dress shoes. Also my griffin cufflinks.

    After examining my reflection to make sure I look good (and use a little bit of magic to style my hair), I give myself an approving nod. It''s time to go. I have business to attend to.

    "PAPA!" Henry yells as I start to leave the house. "GREYSON''S LEAVING AND WEARING A SUIT!"

    "Stop yelling," Cal whacks him on the head. "Greyson, where are you going at this hour? And in a suit?"

    "A very most important meeting that will affect the future of this world," I answer. "I will be back at some point and-"

    "It is far too late for you to be leaving," Cal says. "You-"

    "Bedtime has no say on the future of the world," I say as I escape the house before Cal can grab me.

    Once I''m a safe distance away from the house, I teleport to my destination. To my surprise, the teleport is interrupted and I''m shunted not to my destination but outside the front gate of the mansion. Interesting. I''ve never encountered any form of dimensional barrier which could stop me before, and I even made sure to top myself up on mana specifically for this visit.

    It''s not as if the potions were being used for anything else.

    Interesting. I suppose my great-grandfather would be capable of producing an actual barrier against teleportation. Perhaps if I opened a dimensional gate? Or is his barrier a shield against dimensional magics in general? That''s unlikely as it would affect dimensional storage spaces as well, and I doubt my great-grandfather would affect those.

    Though he may have a way to get around an anti-dimensional barrier, so I suppose it is a possibility.

    "Greyson has arrived," a voice draws me out of my examination of the barrier and I look over to the guardhouse beside the gates. "He mostly seems shocked he was redirected to the gate. Understood, sir. I''ll let him in," the guard hangs up the phone, then looks directly at me. "Adrian says to go straight inside and wait to be collected. Do not make detours. Do not attempt to crack the barrier. Do not cause problems. Otherwise, he will seal your magic for a week. Understand?"

    Whoa. My great-grandfather is a lot more frightening than I realized. Sealing my magic? I didn''t even know that was possible. Researching countermeasures to that is added to my list of things to put on my digital and physical lists once I return home.

    "Yes," I answer.

    The gate opens up a little bit and I walk through, then straight to the house. A butler answers the door when I knock, then I wait in the foyer as per the guard''s directions. After about thirty seconds, I get bored of waiting and teleport my backpack to me and pull out a device to work on, sitting down and unscrewing the bottom of it to fiddle with the magics.

    Hm¡­ why did the teleport for my backpack work? I did it out of habit, without thinking about it, but I was able to do it just fine. I should investigate that later, but for now, I''ll work on something else. This will help me stay calm more than attempting to dissect the barrier''s nature.

    "Where did this child come from?" A woman asks as she descends the stairs. "I do not recognize him and he''s unaccompanied."

    I glance at her. Hm. Yeah. I don''t know who she is so she can''t be important. Probably just one of the relatives who live in the mansion with my great-grandfather.

    "This is Greyson," the butler answers. "He''s currently waiting for Mr. King."

    "And he was allowed in here unaccompanied by an adult why?" She asks. "There are very strict rules regarding who may enter this house. And why is he sitting on the ground? That is only dirtying his suit. Have his parents taught him nothing? That suit is rather cheap as well. What branch is he from? What is that he is playing with?"

    I summon my laptop from my backpack and start typing. First, I need to look up who she is. Then-

    "Do not drain her bank account, Greyson," a deep voice startles me and I nearly drop the laptop.

    I look over to find my great-grandfather standing only a couple of feet away, dressed in a sharp, all-black suit, his platinum-blond hair only lightly styled while showing not a trace of his ancient age. To someone who didn''t know his true age, he would likely appear to be a man in his fifties, maybe sixties.

    "You snuck up on me."

    "I do that," my great-grandfather says. "Stop the hack you were performing, put your laptop and the bomb away-"

    "I''m sorry, Grandfather," the self-important family member says. "But did you just say bomb?"

    "And come with me," my great-grandfather finishes, then looks at her. "We will be discussing your attempt at being in charge in my house later. This is not the first time, so there will be more severe consequences. Greyson? Let''s get moving."

    I put my laptop and the bomb back into my backpack, then stand and follow my great-grandfather through the mansion to a conference room on the second floor. Several platters and bowls of food, including sandwiches and desserts, are spread out on it, along with pitchers of various drinks.

    "Something severe must have happened," my great-grandfather says as he takes a seat at one end of the table, gesturing for me to sit at the other. "For you to decide to visit me after all these years of doing your best to prevent me from reaching out to your family. I was considering going in person for the next visit. You and your ninja would not be able to interfere, then."

    "Unfortunately," I say. "A god told me to stop acquiring power cores the way that I do and to acquire them through legitimate methods. While I could simply ignore a god, I have no intention of disobeying that particular god. He''s too important."

    I was originally planning on ignoring Xander''s request, but realized that he would get upset with me if I did that. Upsetting Xander is one of the last things I would ever want to do. Not seeing him in more than a month was already difficult enough but if he deliberately stopped speaking with me¡­ I''m not sure I could handle it.

    He is one of the few beings I can actually converse with magic about and be understood by, and his presence is kind, not just tolerable. It''s comforting, like being wrapped up in a blanket on a cold winter day with a mug of hot apple cider in one hand and another of hot cocoa in the other.

    As long as I have his support, I know I can finish my mega computer and change the world in a reasonable amount of time. Without it¡­ my project is doomed to take decades.

    "You are not in contact with any gods," my great-grandfather says. "I would know it if you were."

    "He has masked himself as a mortal," I reach forward and some sandwiches float onto a waiting plate, which then slides over to me. "I will not be revealing his identity as I do not wish to anger him. That is why there will be terms to my agreement to having oversight, as I wish to protect his mortal identity. While I know you will not reveal it to others, there are those who serve the evil god who interfered with his reincarnation as a mortal and I do not wish to let them have any more leads on him than they already do."

    The pitcher of lemonade floats over to a cup which pulled itself from a tray, then fills the cup before returning to its spot as the cup floats over to me.

    "Oh," I say after taking a sip. "It''s from magic lemons."

    My great-grandfather stares at me for several very long moments, no doubt using his own psychic powers to think about things.

    "So you made a friend," he says as I eat. "You view him as the big brother that Cal could never be because of the differences in the way your minds work, and he found out that you were not acquiring the cores in entirely-legal manners and asked you to stop, so you''ve decided to stop?"

    "He doesn''t mind me breaking the law as long as I do not convince him to break them," I clarify. "Oh! Is the roast beef on these sandwiches from mindwave cows?"

    "Yes," my great-grandfather answers. "So you''ll finally agree to acquire materials through me? Rather than robbing mobs and swapping their money for the cores? Or scavenging waste yards from major companies?"

    "Perhaps," I say. "It depends on whether or not you agree to the terms of my oversight."

    "And what terms are those?" His amusement is palpable.

    "First," I say. "I do not reveal the location of my secret base-"

    "It''s located at the old factory just outside of Lakeview and Dragon Falls," my great-grandfather says. "You moved in there about three years ago."

    "Get out of my head!"

    Extra defenses! Extra mental shields! Extra psychic energy fields! All barriers up!

    "I''ve known that you were there since the day you claimed the lot as yours," he snorts. "I didn''t do anything about it because after researching you to find out who you were, I realized that as long as you kept your projects to there, then there should be minimal problems. So far, you''ve mostly kept to that."

    He''s known that long and kept me from finding out? My great-grandfather is truly impressive.

    "The second term of my agreement to oversight," I say. "Is that all materials I request will arrive at a predetermined location in a reasonable amount of time. The deliveries will not be to the secret base directly so as to minimize the number of people who know of its location."

    "You will put in a petition for materials," my great-grandfather counters. "And after I assess the requests and the reasons for them, any which are approved will be delivered. You will agree to stop stealing restricted materials, and I will acquire them for you if I determine it to be necessary. I will also set up a proper explosion-proof zone, and any explosives which you create must be able to be contained within that. If they are not, then you will not make them. If you do and wish to use them, then they must be used at a designated location with bomb squad oversight."

    My great-grandfather is a formidable opponent. Negotiations will be more difficult than I anticipated. It''s a good thing he prepared lots of food.

 Chapter 034

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¨C starts during Chapter 33

    But if I adjust the pathways like this¡­ and alter the power matrices like this¡­ and then use the new alloy¡­ would that work? Wait. I would need to move the fuel source input section over to here, and that would mean needing to adjust this part of the enchantments and that one. That would require adjusting things like this¡­ maybe if I added in a swirl here?

    Sometimes, random swirls can make things work and I have no idea why. No matter how much I research it, it seems that nobody can figure it out. Even though some bits of magic can imitate science, it''s not a science and can act in funny ways that make no sense. Heck, it isn''t even always consistent, like the time a lightning bolt I shot was randomly a blast of ice.

    Rising from my seat, I walk over to my storage section and grab the materials off the shelves and out of containers, placing them onto the workbench beside the projection table I was making adjustments at, then get to work cutting, engraving, enchanting, and everything else that''s necessary.

    Once the device is ready, I place some mana crystals into the fuel box, then make sure the magitech device which reads heat levels is on and operating. Only then do I turn on the experimental generator, watching on my screens its various readings.

    Even with the adjustments, there''s still heat generated. Not only that, but the entire point of my adjustments was to try to fix the problem of something simply not working.

    I watch with both my mage-sight and my ability to sense electricity and the screens. The device turns on, mana crystals are tapped into, mana is drawn out, mana is converted into electricity¡­ and then the process ends, the generator shutting off due to too much electricity built up for the magic circuits to handle. At least I''ve managed to get the device to work fluidly between all of those stages, but that took me half the day to achieve. They would work fine when not connected to each other, and then fail once connected.

    Ten more tests of the device yield the same result. I log all of what I''ve observed and noted with these changes, my thoughts on them, and then return to making adjustments on the projection.

    "Is this hopeless?" I ask as I sense a familiar electrical signal approaching. "No matter how many adjustments I make, I can''t get rid of the heat. I''ve nearly gotten the actual formation to fully work, though. It really does feel hopeless, though. Improving the conversion ability without increasing the size seems impossible, especially when factoring in that I also need to improve the actual draw rate and output at the same time to make it more efficient."

    Power cores are much more stable than using mana crystals as a fuel, and they cost significantly less per unit of mana used than a mana crystal does. Part of that comes from their efficiency ¨C the process of refining mana can be done more slowly and carefully, allowing for an easier optimization.

    I''m attempting to replicate at least part of that for my generator. Since generators and batteries perform the conversion faster, there''s a lot more wasted mana.

    The power cores made from my mana cost $400,000, but they have significantly more than one thousand units of mana used for them. Each one was made with roughly eighty thousand units of mana ¨C a cost of only $5 per unit, or only half the cost. Such a power core can fuel all of Dragon Falls for several days, too.

    That''s how much more efficient power cores are, though ones made with my mana are extra-special since they''re even more efficient.

    We don''t tell the public, but there''s one actually set up as a backup for the entire town. Just in case. They''re usually bought by the military or government as backups.

    "Remind me again," Mom says before I can continue. "What the purpose of making one which can fit into a cabinet is?"

    "Well in part, it''s to see if it''s possible," I look at her and she hands me a glass of tea. "But that''s not the full thing. Right now, there''s plenty of wasted mana during the conversion process, when drawing it out of the crystals and converting it into energy which can be used in either magitech or scientech. Part of the goal is to reduce that mana waste, so as to optimize the amount of energy it can produce. That by itself would allow each mana crystal to last longer than they would in other generators. It''s meant as a backup generator for homes in cases of emergencies. More specifically, the sort which can power the entire home and its functions for days or even weeks, if needed. Of course, buying mana crystals would mean it''s more expensive than just getting energy the normal way, but this is meant for emergencies, such as if a disaster happened and the power lines were damaged. Even if improving the output on a smaller scale does turn out to be impossible, being able to make the conversion more efficient is good by itself. We can use that to improve pretty much every generator we produce. I can even get it to work with the generators of this size, I just have to reduce their output down to\-"

    "Stop and take some breaths," Mom interrupts. "You managed to improve the conversion efficiency?"

    "I just said that," I say. "I''m not economics expert or whatever you want to call it, so I don''t know if that means mana crystals will become more or less expensive since they''ll last longer, but we could even use it for the batteries we make for cars. How''s the progress coming on the car that runs off contact, to let me put mana straight into it and power it that way?"

    "We''re an energy company, not a car manufacturer," Mom says. "We make batteries for magitech cars that other companies build, not the cars they go into."

    "Well, yeah, but you can help with the design, right?" I ask. "Well, our company. Not you specifically. It''d be necessary in order to actually create the power flow. I''ve been working on a mock-up of that, by the way, and was wondering if you''d take a look at it later. But later. Right now, I want to try and figure out this problem."

    "Is it the same thing as before?" Mom asks as I take a sip of the tea, which turns out to be a magic tea, probably because I''ve used a lot of magic recently and am always being drained on weekdays. "The issue with the heat generation and something not working, I mean.

    "I did manage to get up to the conversion portion working in the process rather than just individually," I tel her. "Getting it to transfer out of that matrix and into the next one has some sort of block. I made some adjustments I thought might work, but they didn''t, so it looks like I''ll need to break the entire thing down into its parts again and keep tweaking minor pieces into I can get that to work. Though I did spend all morning doing that-"

    "It''s evening-"

    "Oh, fu-"

    "Language!"

    "I didn''t even finish!"

    "Because I interrupted you," she ruffles my hair.

    "Not the hair!" I quickly set down the glass so I can use both hands to fix my hair.

    "It was already a mess, sweetie," she says. "You''ve been accelerating yourself off and on all day, so it''s understandable you''d lose track of time. Your dad and I were planning on heading somewhere to eat in about two hours. You''re invited if you wish to come."

    Dinner with the family?

    "Sure!" I answer. "But can I use the mana-reader first? Pleeeeeeease? I''m getting really stumped on what''s going on and I''m starting to suspect that if fixing either of these is possible, it''ll only be so with the use of a mana-reading device. The issue has to be on the mana-level."

    "With my supervision," Mom says. "I''ll bring it over."

    "Thanks!"

    Mom leaves and I return to examining the projection and comparing it to the actual device I''ve built. When Mom returns, it''s with a rolling cart that has the device on it. While she sets that up, I make sure everything which needs to be exposed on the generator is, then step back so that Mom can use the device.

    "You know how to use it," Mom tells me. "I''ll watch just in case, but you should be fine?"

    "Really?" I ask, almost afraid to be hopeful that she''s serious.

    "Yes," she answers. "Go ahead."

    I plug the machine into a socket meant for high drains, then make sure to configure the settings properly, Mom correcting me on one error. Just as I pull off the scanner itself, Mom gets a phone call.

    "Go ahead and run it," Mom tells me as she pulls out her phone. "I can still watch."

    I nod, then turn on the device as Mom starts talking. First, I need to adjust the parameters set on the scanner itself to make sure it only scans the parts I want it to scan. That requires taking a "shot" of the generator with the handheld scanner and outlining the parts I want it to look at.

    To scan the generator, I have to move in closer and hold the "wand" portion closer to it, letting it focus in on a smaller space. It will recognize the part I''ve outlined and only read the section in there, and only about a square inch at a time.

    Then I hear Mom call me "Lucas".

    "Mooooooooooooom!" Why does she struggle so hard to remember?

    "Sorry, Luke," Mom corrects herself, then continues talking.

    Okay, the first section is done, so I can move the wand over like this¡­ and scan¡­ and repeat.

    "Xander?" I catch something Mom said. "He''s there, too? Can I-"

    "Focus on the scan, Luke," Mom says, and I turn my attention back to the scan.

    After scanning everything that''s exposed, I turn off the machine and then remove some parts of the generator, scanning additional angles and pieces, as well as things that were behind the parts I scanned originally. I''m not scanning the entire thing ¨C just the portions where it''s not working and the part where the heat seems to originate from.

    "Total cost to scan," I say once I''m done. "Not very much, since we''re using a power core from my mana. But if we used a normal source rather than that¡­ uh¡­ probably a quarter of a million?"

    "Your total scanned area was twenty-three-point-seven square inches," she says. "So if we used the building''s power supply rather than the power core hooked up to this room, it would have been around one hundred and eighty-nine thousand."

    "And six hundred," I nod. "I know. I just hope the result works out because that''s a lot of money. At least we used my power core for it, so it''s only, like, thirty grand. I dunno, I''m not going to bother doing the math on that one."

    Even if it cost us half a million, this generator would more than pay for it once it''s on the market. Mom would have only allowed me to use the analyzer if she was certain we''d be able to make back the money from the project¡­ but maybe she didn''t mind it as much since it was with a power core from my mana.

    Also probably because I figured out a problem that researchers have been working on for decades. This is the first time in almost forty years that someone has figured out a more efficient way to extract and convert mana via magitech. I can get it to work on a larger scale, it''s the smaller scale that''s the problem.

    That means I''ve come up with something that''s worth, well, billions in the long-term. And I''m only thirteen. I''m not a magitech genius for nothing, and if it''s possible to make it work on a smaller scale, then I will.

    "Do you remember how to convert the data to the projection table?"

    "I think so," I answer.

    "Go ahead and try," Mom tells me.

    I run the program in the analysis machine, then withdraw the storage drive inserted and insert it into my projection table. Once it''s ready, I call up a projection of the first enchantment set. Light blue lines weave through the air, forming the complex enchantment. There''s more detail to this than just what I could tell on my own, however.

    The way magesight works is by looking at the presence of mana or magic (converted mana); however, that''s limited by several factors, including the strength of the mage''s mageisght and the types of mana states present. Mana isn''t in a single state but in several, and typical magesight can only view two of them. Some people focus on training so they can view another, but that''s difficult to do and take a long time. In my case, I also have an innate ability to view mana in the magical energy state ¨C the form used for powering magitech.That''s innate to me, likely as a result of my deep affinity for lightning magics.

    With a device like the mana-analysis machine, we can bypass our own limitations to some degree. It''s more precise on reading the locations and strengths of mana states. When it comes to a type of mana state called "mana residue", it can even read the aspects of them to some degree. It''s the most precise form of mana reading there is in the world, even better than ones high-end doctors use.

    One thing it can do is read more slight interactions of mana and magic, pathways created, even the residue of mana and magic. But this readout¡­

    "All of this looks fine," I say after looking through the projections. "Mom, there''s nothing wrong. I''ve done everything perfect! This is flawless enchanting! It really is impossible, isn''t it?"

    "Maybe not," Mom tells me.

    "But-"

    "We can see that there''s no flaws in the actual enchantment and flow paths," Mom says. "Nor that there are unintended interactions between them. This means it may be the types of magic that''s the problem. You may need to tweak the formulas a little."

    "I''ve tried adjusting those," I tell her. "But look ¨C it doesn''t even show results for magic residue that''s causing the heat-up! And the connection from the conversion to the output should work, but it just doesn''t. Unless there''s something even the best piece of magitech at it can''t detect, it''s hopeless! And it''s my first big project! Why does it have to end in failure?"

    Rather than supporting me and making me feel better about my failure¡­ Mom just looks thoughtful.

    "I think you need a break," Mom tells me. "Try and come at the problem again once you''ve rested a little."

    "But-"

    "You never know what new perspective you might get," she tells me. "It''s not quite been two hours, but I''m sure your father won''t mind stopping now to go out for dinner."

    "But I-"

    "You''ve been working nearly all day, Luke," she says. "You need a break. Did you even eat lunch?"

    "Uh¡­"

    "I thought not," she says. "Get some fuel in you and see if something pops into your head, alright?"

    "Alright," I grumble. "I just wish this wasn''t a failure."

    "You know what''s going to be a failure?" Mom asks.

    "My life."

    "Don''t be so dramatic," she snorts. "Come on, let''s go get your dad."

    "Let me get cleaned up," I tell her, then remember her phone call. "What did Mr. Trey want?"

    "He wanted to know about making mana crystals," she answers. "Xander apparently got curious about that. It seems that the ''dork'' he mutters about sometimes is the teleporter who takes power cores."

    "He was here earlier, right?" I turn off the projection table, then begin putting things away. "The teleporter? I could feel his energy signals over at the storage. Well, and the mana he leaks when he teleports. Ain''t no way he''s a normal kid when he has that much mana."

    "Yes," Mom answers as she makes sure the mana-analyzer is properly shut off. "I managed to convince him to speak a little, and it seems he''s building a computer. He also mentioned Xander directly while we were talking."

    "Wait, really?" I ask. "Xander knows a proper King? And they''re friends?"

    "Yes," Mom frowns a little. "The kid said something strange about Xander, and after what Xander said on the phone¡­"

    Mom doesn''t elaborate on that, just goes deep into thought.

    "Moooooooom! You can''t just leave me hanging like that!"

    "Sorry," she smiles. "Xander said at the end of the call that he apparently eats leaking mana and didn''t know that ¨C which is why the teleport gate had an oddity both of the times he used it."

    They''ve currently blocked teleports between the two cities because of it. A teleport gate requires two types of fuel for it ¨C raw mana and converted magical energy ¨C and no one yet knows what was going on. Our generator was having a high draw on it, but it''s energy is used to actually direct the raw mana flow and shift the enchanting network around to set the destination gate. As it turned out, the actual mana cost itself is what had spiked.

    "Are you saying Xander was eating the leaking mana that normally gets pulled back in?" I ask.

    "That''s what he said," Mom confirms. "He must have been sick afterward unless his body was able to quickly expel the mana."

    I grimace at the thought. When I was little, I tried to eat raw mana and was sick for almost a day. Xander must not be feeling too good at all, since he would have needed to eat many more times what I''d attempted.

    But at the same time¡­ wouldn''t the fact that he was able to eat so much that there was a significant increase in actual cost for the gate mean that he''s got a ridiculously high capacity? Not necessarily as high as mine, since the gates are pretty efficient even with how much they leak, but probably higher than Tyler''s.

    "By the way," Mom says. "You''ve been sparking ever since you got frustrated."

    "What?" I reach up and feel sparks in my hair. "Noooo! Not again!"

    "It''s not as bad as it could be," she says. "Oh, and Xander asked if I''d be willing to let you know that he has some stuff he wanted to ask you about and some stuff to tell you on Monday when you go to his classes."

    I was going to talk to her about that once I finished up for the day¡­ I don''t want to go to the classes anymore. Xander doesn''t want to be my friend, he only sees me as a way of being protected from the teachers. On top of that, I hate being so low on mana all the time. It''s an awful feeling, but necessary in order to keep him from freaking out when I start babbling a lot.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    It takes me about two days or so to get full on mana at a boosted recovery rate, or about three if I don''t stuff myself full all the time. I hate this and it''s awful¡­

    "Mom?" I ask. "Do you think we can go by Xander''s to ask him about that? He probably just doesn''t want to inconvenience us and I guess he''d rather talk in person. That''s kind of like him."

    I could let him know I want to stop attending the classes, too. I really do hate being so empty on mana and it''s a huge problem for me. It''s not me and I want to be me.

    "Sure," Mom says. "Then we can let your dad finish his work and meet us at the restaurant after. You get cleaned up and I''ll put this away, then let your dad know."

    "Thanks," I say.

    Mom takes the mana-analyzing machine with her as she leaves, and I finish cleaning up my work station, then take a shower in my office''s bathroom.

    Xander knows the teleporter¡­ that''s a huge surprise. I kind of want to know how they met, and if he knows about whatever it is the kid''s working on that''s using so much power. There''s no way it''s just a computer. I also want to know if he knows how we can get the other kid to stop teleporting in and taking power cores without permission¡­ his electrical signals were in the storage room that holds some of our more upper-end ones, so I''m betting the kid took some of the ones made with my mana today.

    Asking all of that would probably freak out Xander, and I''m already going to be saying something that''ll upset him. Should I just bite the bullet, since I''m probably not going to see him around anymore after stopping attending the classes?

    By the time Mom and I arrive at Xander''s, I know I''m sparking again. This is really upsetting me even though I knew we couldn''t be friends pretty much from the start. I hate my life and really wish I wasn''t born into this family, with this stupid condition we can''t figure out.

    "Mom," I whisper when we walk up to the front doors, the guards having let us drive up after contacting Trey to let him know we were here. "There''s another kid in there."

    "That''s Xander."

    "No," I say. "I mean, they''re a similar size to him, but I can''t feel Xander''s electrical signals unless I''m really close to him. His are almost nonexistent and it''s a miracle he''s alive with that. This kid''s signals are strong, like a healthy person. Did Trey adopt another kid?"

    "Maybe?" Mom seems uncertain. "But I doubt he would have done that, he''s got his hands full with Xander. It could be that one of the other kids Xander hangs out with is here."

    Right. Xander has friends and I only have Parker, who seems to be more aggravated with me by the day. He hasn''t even mentioned the incident where he just¡­ didn''t say anything when his other friends started going at me.

    Being moody can come later. After putting out my sparks, I knock on the front door. One of the guards opens the door a moment later and we enter, and I look around a little. The signal of the other kid is in the theater room, while Trey is in the kitchen with Katie, where we''re directed.

    "Hello, Luke," Trey says. "You wanted to talk with Xander?"

    "He said he wanted to talk with me," I say. "But on Monday. I figured he probably just didn''t want to bother us so late in the day. Is it okay if I ask him what''s up? I forgot to ask before we left."

    "I asked while you were cleaning up," Mom says.

    "He''s in the theater," Trey tells me. "He''s had a bit of a weird day and I told him he could watch something and go to bed later if he wanted."

    A weird day? Well, if he hung out with a teleporting ten-year-old who''s essentially stealing power cores¡­ I can understand why his day has been weird.

    When I reach the theater, I find Xander doing something in the concessions area, all of his stuffed animals sitting on seats around where he normally sits. Something is up on the screen, though I don''t know what it is and it''s paused. The paused scene is of a forest¡­ so looking at that isn''t helpful.

    What''s strange is Xander¡­ he is the one with the strong electrical signal. I''ve known him for three weeks now and his electrical signals have always been super weak, almost nonexistent, when I''m near enough to sense them. Now, it''s as if he''s any other normal kid.

    "Interesting movie?" I decide not to ask about it.

    "It''s a documentary on a magic breed of forest fox," Xander looks over at me. "I paused it after starting it ''cause Mr. Trey said you were coming over to talk. I didn''t want to bother you this late, that''s why I said on Monday."

    "It''s okay," I say. "I wanted to tell you something, too. You go first, though."

    "Oh," he says. "Um¡­ Mr. Trey said that if you babble lots, I can just tell you you''re bothering me and you won''t be mad."

    What is this about?

    "Parker usually punches me," I say. "Or pinches my ear. Or flicks my nose. Just telling me is cool."

    "Yeah," Xander says. "But I''m not so good with talking like that, so I might be really rude. I''m sorry if I say it rudely, I don''t mean to. I just don''t like noisy things¡­ they really bother my ears and my head. And I can''t help it."

    Him not liking noisy things is why he doesn''t like me.

    This makes Xander uncomfortable enough that he looks back to what he was doing¡­ which seems to be mixing up a batch of popcorn with caramel, sprinkles, and I think gummy bears. Not exactly the best thing before bed.

    "That''s fine," I tell him. "I mean-"

    "But it''s not fine," Xander tells me. "I don''t like-um¡­ sorry for interrupting. I don''t like being mean, Luke. I don''t want to be rude even if you''re noisy and bother me lots if you''re not super low on mana."

    "I know, that''s why-"

    "Please let me finish!" Xander whines. "I''m not done! I''m sorry for interrupting you earlier!"

    Xander looks ready to cry. Crap. I''m still going to tell him I want to quit the lessons and that''s probably going to ruin his entire night.

    "Sorry," I tell him.

    "Okay," he sniffles a little. "Um¡­ sorry for being a big baby. Getting my brain fixed didn''t fix that. But I want to try and not bother you. Having to drain your mana before the classes probably bothers you lots. I¡­ not being super low on mana feels lots of good¡­ didn''t know that-but maybe I should have-you''re probably feeling-I''m sorry for not thinking ''bout you on that, Luke."

    What does he mean by that? It seems like he''s struggling to form his thoughts into sentences, which is really confusing.

    "So um¡­ if-if you want to stop, I understand," he says. "But, um¡­ I want to try not being bothered. To¡­ try and tell you if you''re being noisy. That''s what I wanted to tell you on Monday. That if hyper is¡­ since Tuesday''s holiday¡­ Wednesday not¡­ but not sure¡­ ''cause brain''s all fixed up¡­ didn''t see turtle today¡­ so only half-empty¡­ Monday, right?"

    None of that made any sense, and what do turtles have to do with anything? I think his thoughts were getting jumbled up in his nervousness.

    "Um¡­ Xander?" I ask. "You didn''t actually make sense there. You were saying something about Monday, Tuesday being a holiday, and Wednesday, and only half-full. And something about not seeing a turtle?"

    Also something about his brain being fixed, which is the second time he''s mentioned that. I really want to know what that''s about, but I don''t think asking right now would make him any less frustrated.

    "Turtle," he says. "Not ''a turtle''. He''s a dog that''s up for adoption and has been for awhile. He''s not found a happy home yet. He gets super excited and then his new owners don''t want him and send him back and it makes him all depressed. I forgot about going there today so I don''t know if he''s found a home yet."

    "Oh."

    Xander nods, then looks satisfied with his monstrosity of a snack.

    "What about Monday, Tuesday being Interception Day, and Wednesday?"

    "Oh," Xander thinks. "But maybe Monday is fine? But I''m really sorry if I get upset and be rude to you, okay?"

    "I still have zero clue what you''re talking about."

    "Oh," Xander''s face turns bright red. "Um¡­ I was trying to say that I want to try and be around you when you aren''t being all drained. Because being drained probably doesn''t feel good, right? For-for the classes, right?"

    "What?" I ask a moment before I realize what Xander was saying when he kept shifting what it was. "Wait. Were you saying you wanted to try being around me with more mana, when I''m going to be more hyper? And that since Tuesday is a holiday, and so no classes, that you wanted to try it on Wednesday?"

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods. "B-but if you wanted to not do that, i-it''s okay. I-I can try w-when you d-don''t drain. I-I don''t want to be a bother. B-but I might accidentally be rude ''cause I-I''m not used to saying when people are b-bothering me. A-and if I''m able to¡­ then maybe I can when you''re not drained at all."

    Xander wants to try and use me to get used to being around noisy things, isn''t he? Then again, he''s also using me to get over his fear of drowning¡­ so I''m not too upset. It means he''s wanting to try to be around me when I''m more me, too. Maybe there is a chance we can be friends?

    "We can try that Monday," I tell him. "Mom said you were asking about making mana crystals with your own magic? I can do it, too! There''s lots of mana wasted in the conversion process since I''m not that good at it, but I can show you if you want."

    I''m going to hate tomorrow, but at least it means something good might happen Monday.

    "Sure," Xander nods.

    I hold up my right hand and begin to push mana out of it, condensing it in one spot to form the crystal. After a few moments, Xander lets out a yelp and jumps.

    "Aaah," he gasps, mouth open. "Aaaah¡­ oooh¡­ aaah¡­"

    "You okay?" I lose hold on the creation of the crystal, the mana I''ve already managed to hold together dissipating since it hadn''t manage to solidify yet. "What happened? Did I accidentally shock you?"

    Xander grabs a handful of his popcorn and shoves it into his mouth, eating quickly as if trying to get rid of a bad taste. After a few bites, he hurries over to his seat and grabs his lemonade, downing the entire glass.

    "I''m really sorry!" Xander looks at me. "I didn''t know I was going to do that! You were being all leaky with your mana, apparently! I just thought you meant you were using lots of extra mana, not that you were leaking it!"

    "Huh?" I ask. "Wait. You really eat leaking mana?"

    "I only found out today," Xander looks sad as he goes to the drinks fountain to refill his cup. "It made you unhappy yesterday ''cause you didn''t get to finish hanging out with Tyler before he left, and probably had other stuff to do¡­ really sorry about that. I didn''t know I did that. Um¡­ you can demonstrate again¡­ if you''re not upset and want to¡­ I''ll make sure my mouth is shut this time. I thought it was shut but I apparently opened it¡­"

    That''s what this is about? Xander heard me being upset with the tech yesterday and feels guilty over it because it was apparently his fault. Based on the report we''d gotten earlier, there was around 300 units of extra mana needed for each teleport, so Xander must have eaten around 600 units'' worth total. He only just discovered he does that today, and he doesn''t like bothering people.

    So he''s trying to bother me less by not asking me to be completely drained of mana for his classes¡­ that''s actually really nice.

    "Wait," I say, and he flinches a little. "If you can really eat mana¡­ what does mine taste like? It tastes different, right? If you didn''t know until today and you had that strong of a reaction."

    "Um¡­ well," he says. "Your mana has little bits of lightning in it, so it''s really that it gave me a big shock."

    "Little¡­ little bits of lightning?"

    "Yeah," he nods. "Not like normal people''s mana, which is just¡­ mana. Or like Parker''s, which, um¡­ it''s hard to explain in words properly, probably ''cause my brain only just got fixed and I need to learn more, but¡­ Parker''s kind of resembles lava? But doesn''t? And your parents'' is like that but with lightning. But yours is like your parents'' mana, where it sort of seems like it''s in tune with lightning. Except it also has little bits of lightning in it. And the more you have, the more there''s there."

    What the hell is he talking about?

    "And it gave me a big shock," Xander says. "I didn''t mean to eat your mana. Sorry! You were probably pulling it back to the crystal, right?"

    "Well¡­ I''m not that good," I tell him. "But here, let me show you what a crystal looks like when it''s made!"

    I hold my hand back up and demonstrate creating the crystal. Xander''s decided that to keep himself from accidentally eating my mana, he''s going to cover his mouth. So he can do that to himself without freaking out? I guess that makes sense since he has full control over the situation.

    At first, there''s nothing visible above my palm as I work. Then a sort of yellowish mist forms in the spot where I''m condensing the mana, the mist taking up a space around the size of mist. The mist thickens until it''s a clear, yellow liquid, before solidifying into a crystal that''s very faintly touched with yellow but is mostly clear. Its color deepens and continues to do so, until the crystal itself is no longer clear from just how much mana is within it.

    "I had around 10,000 units'' worth of mana," I tell him. "Since I''ve spent a lot since my last drain, and the crystal has around 5,000 in it. I can only manage to get half of it successfully used. The leaked mana should be dissipated by now. It does so rather fast."

    "Whoa," Xander removes his hand from his mouth. "That was cool. Greyson did it faster so I didn''t get to see it right. Is that what you do before classes?"

    Greyson? Is that "the dork"? It doesn''t surprise me that he could make mana crystals quickly, though now I''m curious about why he needs power cores.

    "No," I answer. "I push my mana into a crystal orb, where it''s stored. That gets used to make potent power cores since my lightning affinity is even stronger than my parents''. There''s pretty much no loss there, so we can use the full amount. It''s faster and more efficient. Greyson''s the kid who keeps teleporting into our storage and taking power cores, right? How come he doesn''t just make them on his own?"

    "I told your mom that," Xander tells me. "He said he keeps getting electrocuted when he tries to make them, so he finds it easier to rob mobs and use that money to pay for the cores. But I told him that he needs to stop because it''s probably bothering you guys, and he should try to buy them properly."

    "He¡­ robs mobs?"

    "He''s a dork¡­"

    "Yeah¡­" I say. "Well, you probably know him better than I do."

    "Probably," Xander nods, then shifts a little, clearly uncomfortable. "Um¡­ is it¡­ is it okay if I-I-you do lots of work and are only thirteen¡­ made me curious-but generators don''t normally eat¡­ so I was wondering-"

    "Might want to take a deep breath and sort out your thoughts," I tell him. "Because you''re making zero sense there, Xander."

    "Sorry," Xander''s face turns bright red again and he takes his cup back to his seat. "Um¡­ can I visit your workplace? ''Cause you work even thought you''re only thirteen. And it''s not like S.G. does, mowing lawns and walking dogs and stuff. It''s like¡­ bigger work. With magitech. Like what Greyson does, but for money. I don''t think he really cares about money."

    I can''t help but feel like Xander has some sort of other motive for wanting to see my workshop, but I doubt it''s malicious. Xander''s probably just got a lot of stuff he''s thinking about, sort of like I do.

    "He robs mobs," I say. "I don''t think money matters much to him."

    "Probably not."

    "As for your question¡­ I mean, I don''t have an issue with it," I say. "I''d be happy to show you ¨C but we have to get permission from my parents. We do give tours and stuff, but only for some parts of the building. There''s a lot of secret stuff."

    "That''s okay," Xander tells me, then grabs his bowl of popcorn and carries it over to his seat. "I just wanted to see what kind of stuff you do. If¡­ if that''s okay."

    "I can ask my parents," I tell him.

    "T-thanks," he says. "Um¡­ you said you wanted to tell me something? I think? Maybe I''m misremembering?"

    If he''s willing to try and put up with me without me draining myself of mana, then I''ll stick around for longer. That means there''s a chance we can become friends, too!

    "I did," I tell him. "But don''t worry about it, it doesn''t matter anymore. Enjoy your documentary. See you Monday!"

    "Bye," Xander says, then I head to the kitchen.

    Mom and Trey are talking in there, and I noticed Katie leave a minute ago, heading upstairs.

    "Xander wanted to tell me that he wanted to try seeing if he could handle me without being drained," I tell Mom and Trey. "He figured that Wednesday would be a good day to try it, since I''d have a day of recovery due to there not being classes on Tuesday for the holiday, but I offered to make it Monday and showed him me making a mana crystal, since he was curious about them. He also wanted to know about visiting my workshop. He''s apparently curious about what I do, since I''m working and only thirteen."

    "Not this again," Trey groans.

    "What?" I ask.

    "Xander overheard Katie and me talking about the food budget earlier," Trey tells me. "She just wanted to let me know that the account for food would need a larger input since Xander''s eating more than we anticipated. I''ve told him that it''s fine and not a problem, but he''s insistent on finding a way to help. I don''t mind if you let him look, but don''t give him any advice on what he can do try to earn money. I want him to focus on just being him."

    "My advice would only work for magitech geniuses, anyway," I say. "So no worries about that! Did something else happen? Xander usually has a really weak electrical signal, but it''s strong enough now that I could sense him like anyone else. Made me think he had a friend over until I saw him and realized it was just him. And he kept mentioning something about his brain getting fixed?"

    "His brain?" Mom asks.

    "That''s what he said," I shrug. "Said it three times."

    "You can sense the electricity in a person?" Trey asks.

    "Yup," I grin. "Pretty neat trick, right? It''s gotten stronger recently, too! So what''s the deal with his brain? ''Cause it''s not like his Autism was cured, right? There''s no magical cure for that."

    It''s not caused by damage or something, so "fixing" it would require actually altering a person''s brain.

    "Luke!" Mom exclaims.

    "What?" I ask. "He is, isn''t he? I mean, I wasn''t told it, but it''s kind of obvious."

    "He is," Trey nods. "And no. Don''t worry about the brain thing. It''s just Xander being influenced by the teleporting kid."

    "Oh, okay," I say. "Well, something happened, since his electric signals are normal rather than the barely-noticeable kind."

    "I''ll keep an eye on it," that''s probably code for "not your problem", isn''t it?

    "Okay," I say.

    "Ready to go?" Mom asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Bye, Trey! See you Monday!"

    "See you on Monday," Trey says. "See you, Melody."

    "See you," Mom tells him.

    As Mom and I get into the car, I get a text from Parker.

    "Parker wants to know if he can come over," I buckle up. "His parents apparently have to do an emergency cover at a banquet. Seems some of their staff didn''t show up and so they need to go. Can he stay the night?"

    Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

    "Dinner with us or at the house?"

    Yes!

    "He''s offering to order pizza."

    "Alright," Mom chuckles. "I can drop you off, then go meet with your dad. You two have fun."

    An hour later, Parker and I are lying on my bed, eating pizza and wings while watching something on TV. Half-watching, since Parker and I have been talking about our day. I just finished telling him about making the mana crystal to show Xander (Mom took it; it''s going to be stored safely until I return to the office).

    "He eats mana?" Parker asks.

    "Yeah," I say. "But it was kind of funny because he apparently gets shocked by my mana. He claims it has lightning in it in addition to having an affinity for lightning. I''m not sure what that was about, though. It''s like he was talking as if he could sense affinities, except he said yours had a lava affinity, not an earth aff-"

    Parker stiffened up.

    "¡­Parker?"

    "Yeah?" He quickly recovers.

    "I saw that face," I poke him in the shoulder. "And you tensed up. Why? You are an earth affinity. You didn''t inherit fire from your dad, and it wouldn''t have merged, anyway. The bloodline wouldn''t be strong enough."

    "It¡­ kind of did," Parker looks guilty. "But I haven''t told anyone. Not even my parents. I figured out quickly how to remove the different aspects, so I only show earth magics to others. But I have a lava affinity."

    Parker never looks this guilty unless he''s being honest.

    "You''re the first I''ve told," he says. "Xander could tell?"

    Back when we first met¡­ Xander gave us both strange looks ¨C and an even stranger one when I mentioned Parker had an earth affinity. He knew from then that Parker had¡­ wait, wouldn''t that mean that Xander can actually perceive mana in some form? Not just in the way that magesight does, but in some sort of more refined manner? The way his magesight works must let him see the states of mana in people and their aspects.

    "Hello?" Parker waves a hand in front of my face, startling me.

    "What?" I ask. "Oh. Yeah. I think he knew from the first day we met. He made a weird face when we mentioned you were an earth affinity. How come you never told me?"

    Parker flips over onto his back, his head now hanging over the edge of my bed.

    "None of our classmates put you on a pedestal for your magical abilities or magitech skills because they find you annoying," he says. "You talk waaaaaaaaay too much and tend to be really hyper."

    Ouch. Did he have to bring that up?

    "Me?" He asks. "I''m a second-gen fire mage and a third-gen earth mage who comes from an ordinary family, and I have a magic bloodline from that. It was bad enough when classmates at DFMS found out I had an earth affinity¡­ imagine if they found out I inherited a fire affinity from my dad? Or if they found that out and that the affinities merged and became a lava affinity? And then when we met¡­ well, I didn''t fully like you at first. Even after we became friends, I didn''t want to tell. Like¡­ I like you a lot, Luke, but I''ve never told anyone. I don''t want it to be important or how people see me. As some sort of prodigy, like you."

    I guess that makes sense. If my classmates at school knew just what I can really do, they''d probably ignore my hyperactivity and babbleness. They''d want to be my friends because of my abilities. I want to be seen as me, not my magic.

    "Fair," I say. "Can I see some lava magic?"

    "I''m not that good," he says. "Since I mostly just use earth magics. But¡­ sure."

    He works off his shirt for some reason.

    "I know you''re cute, but this really isn''t the time for that."

    Parker throws his shirt at me and when I toss it to the floor, I see him holding his hands up over his body, still lying on his back. He''s lifted his head up to focus on his hands, which are held about eight or nine inches apart.

    Molten stone begins to form in the space between Parker''s hands, expanding and bubbling, a little bit of it dropping down onto him. My exclamation of surprise and terror is cut off at Parker''s lack of a reaction to it¡­ is he unaffected? Lava can''t be cool at all, which means he''d need something to keep him from being burned, but that''s not inherent to mages. They''d need special bloodlines like mine to have an inherent resistance.

    Unless Parker''s cast a spell on himself to resist the heat. That''s a possibility. I can feel the heat on me and it''s not too contained.

    By the time he finishes casting, the orb is about six inches in diameter, more of a spherical blob, and quite bubbly.

    He starts moving his hands back and forth, the blob of lava elongating and then compressing back into a spherical form as he does. More of it drips down onto him, but he makes sure to not expand it wider than his body.

    After playing with his lava a few times, Parker focuses on the blob for several seconds, then the entire thing rapidly cools, becoming dark grey, almost black, stone.

    "That is awesome," I say. "Are you casting some sort of spell to resist the heat?"

    "No," Parker doesn''t protest as I snatch the lava stone to examine it more closely. It''s still warm. "I''m just¡­ not affected by heat. At least, to a certain degree. I don''t know what the limit is. And please don''t tell anyone. Not even my parents. I really don''t want people to know, Luke. I''m only telling you ''cause Xander outed me and you know me well enough I couldn''t make up a story after you noticed my reaction."

    "It was just us when he said it," I tell him. "I don''t know if he''s mentioned it to anyone else, but you can ask him to not mention it to others."

    "I will," Parker looks relieved. "If we had more space and I wasn''t afraid of getting in trouble for accidentally setting something on fire, I''d show you my lava shots. They''re little bullets of lava I can shoot."

    "That sounds really awesome!" I exclaim as he starts to sit up, but I put a hand on his chest and push him back down. "Dude, you are not getting up until you cool the lava on you."

    Parker looks down at his stomach and chest, where the lava that dripped is still lava, then giggles. He''d taken off his shirt to avoid burning it from the lava drips, and used his body to avoid his lava burning my stuff. That''ll be for nothing if he just sits up and lets it flow off of him.

    "Whoops," he reaches down to poke the molten drips. "Don''t want to set the place on fire!"

 Chapter 035

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "Greyson, why are you wearing a suit again?" Dad asks as I exit my room. "And it''s only six-thirty in the morning. On a Sunday."

    Dad and Papa are in the kitchen, Papa pulling ingredients out to begin making breakfast.

    "I fail to see what the day of the week has to do with anything."

    Especially as I am often up before now, which they know.

    "We need to talk about yesterday," Dad says. "Cal says that you and Xander are friends and he discovered some interesting things about you. And then you dressed up and left last night, and we''re fairly certain you''re teleporting around again. We-"

    "Negotiations must wait," I tell him. "We have a guest."

    "And why would we have a guest?"

    "Because I told him that you would be here at six-thirty," I tell him. "So that we may commence the renovations as early as possible in order to ensure the smoothest workflow for-"

    "Greyson," Dad interrupts as Papa frowns at me. "What the hell are you talking about? We have not approved any renovations and you are not-"

    "Not for the house," I walk over to the front door and open it. "Hello, Grandfather Adrian. You may come in. Dad and Papa are in the kitchen, though I forgot to inform them of your coming so they could properly prepare. In all fairness, they were not awake when I began my morning workout."

    "Why are you wearing a suit?" Grandfather Adrian asks.

    It seems he has forgotten his own outfit, though he''s also carrying a gift bag which gives me a strange feeling.

    "You''re in a suit, too," I step to the side. "Dad. Papa. This is Adrian King. He''s my birth dad''s dad''s dad. We performed negotiations last night and he has agreed to provide me with necessary materials as long as I agree to certain¡­ rules of oversight. Now that you have met, we should go to the secret base and-"

    "Absolutely not," Grandfather Adrian puts a firm hand on my shoulder to prevent me from escaping the house. "I will be speaking to your dads first, Greyson."

    "They are incapable of comprehending discussions of magical-"

    "About you and your brothers," Grandfather Adrian says, then looks at Dad and Papa. "I''ve attempted to reach out to the two of you several times in the past, but Greyson''s interfered each time."

    "Greyson!" Dad scolds. "You''re hacking again! Was your last grounding not enough?"

    "There is no grounding sufficient enough to stop me from doing what is necessary to protect my family."

    "I know it''s early and on short notice," Grandfather Adrian says. "But if I didn''t act as quickly as possible, I would need to take more drastic measures to prevent Greyson from changing his mind and once again preventing me from reaching out," he gives me an amused look. "Nice try with the ninja."

    "It was the best I could manage on such short notice."

    "It was clever," Grandfather Adrian says. "I''ll give you that one, Greyson," he looks to my dads. "Is it alright if we enter? I have a solution that will help with Greyson''s¡­ inability to be effectively punished."

    Dad and Papa look at each other, then back to Grandfather Adrian.

    "You''re his great-grandfather?"

    "Yes," Grandfather Adrian says. "And part of the reason the boys were able to manage after their mother and step-father abandoned them a few years ago. Greyson didn''t interfere with me doing that."

    "It was necessary for our ability to continue living together."

    "You mean it was necessary for you to get away with your little projects without oversight," Grandfather Adrian says.

    "You''re talking tomatoes, I''m talking chocolate cheesecake."

    "Those are two completely different things," Papa says.

    "Exactly."

    "Come on in," Dad sighs. "Though is your name actually ''Adrian'', or is that Greyson attempting to mess with us?"

    "I''m the Adrian King," Grandfather Adrian enters and I close the door. "I have proof if you need it. Greyson and his brothers are from what''s considered a branch family. Their father was my grandson, though we lost contact with each other about thirty years ago. Some internal conflicted happened within the family and many members left. I''ll admit that I didn''t do a good job at attempting to track them down, but I felt that they would return on their own if they chose to.

    "Sometimes," he continues. "My descendants are born with¡­ a bit extra power. When that mixes with a mind as unusual as Greyson''s, it can result in¡­ personalities which can be considered unstable. Since he''s done everything he can to prevent me from handling his and his brothers'' situation, I decided to stop short of coming out here personally and simply watch over them to make sure things work out. Greyson has¡­ needed it."

    "I have needed no oversight."

    "There is a reason things are changing now," he gives me an amused look.

    "I believe that I approached you."

    "In this bag," Grandfather Adrian shows the bag to my dads. "Is a set of clothes in Greyson''s size. Hand-wash only. I put in some detergent that works for them. The clothing bag they''re in prevents them from affecting things. They''re a form of static clothes that will interfere with his magic. As long as he''s wearing even a piece of it, he won''t be able to use his mana. They''ll also brick any tech ¨C scientific or magical ¨C they touch, so be careful with them."

    "Those are evil!" I reach for the bag.

    "And if Greyson attempts to get rid of them or destroy them," Grandfather Adrian lifts the bag out of my reach "Contact me and I will seal his magic for a month. And replace them. If you need to punish him and he refuses to wear them, contact me and I will deal with him."

    "Those are evil! Only a member of the Faction would make something like that!"

    "I personally created them just for you," Grandfather Adrian says. "For a ten-year-old with warped morals who can manipulate time and space, such measures are necessary."

    "He can do what?" Papa asks. "We knew about the teleporting, but he can manipulate time, too?"

    "How else do I make cinnamon rolls in twenty minutes from the start?" I ask. "Temporal acceleration is a necessity to make them proof and to bake them in such a short period of time. Let me at those! There''s a nice fire pit out back I''m going to toss them into! And stop preventing me from using telekinesis and flight magics and teleportation!"

    "Do you remember our agreement last night?" Grandfather Adrian asks. "Part of it was you agreeing to abide by rules set in place and accepting punishments as determined, including by your dads. Or do I need to have you declared a threat to the public in order to put you in my custody, to keep a closer eye on you?"

    I stop jumping for the bag.

    "Stop pouting," Grandfather Adrian says, then looks at Dad and Papa and offers them the bag again, which Dad cautiously takes. "As I''m sure you two have learned over the past half of a year, Greyson¡­ operates on a different frequency from the rest of humanity. It makes handling someone like him difficult. If you''ll allow me, I''ll handle Greyson''s more extreme side. The using-higher-magics-and-breaking-the-law side."

    "They''re mobs. They deserve to be robbed."

    "You''re robbing mobs?" Dad exclaims.

    "He will not be doing that anymore," Grandfather Adrian gives me a stern look. "He agreed to it as one of the conditions for my assistance in legally acquiring materials he needs."

    "I understand that you may be a very influential person," Dad doesn''t fully believe that Grandfather Adrian is Adrian King. "But we''re his legal guardians, and-"

    "Allow me to explain," Grandfather Adrian holds up a hand. "Greyson is the sort of boy who will find a way to do what he''s interested in. It''s better for there to be some degree of oversight than to block him outright. That''s why I''ve kept an eye on him as much as I could without him becoming aware of it and disappearing on me. And if I didn''t think you two were doing a good job with him and his brothers, I would have stepped in before now.

    "What Greyson has agreed to," he continues. "In simpler terms, is that he''ll submit a request for materials to me, along with what he wants them for. I''ll review the list and send any that I approve. This will be his sole method of acquiring materials for his projects, outside of stuff he can simply buy on his own. Like a paper mache volcano."

    "Why would I do something so boring when I can just make a replica volcano with real lava using my magic?"

    "Greyson," my great-grandfather gives me a stern look, before returning his attention to Dad and Papa. "While it won''t mean he''s honest, it means I''ll at least know what he''s up to with his projects, to some degree. And I did tell him that you two would have to approve this arrangement. Do keep in mind, however, that if proper oversight cannot be placed on him, then it may be necessary to declare him a public threat and have him placed under suppression. I have received¡­  complaints. Like when he broke into a military base to steal a bomb."

    "Greyson Henry!" Dad exclaims.

    "Next time-"

    "There will be no next time!"

    "I''ll just reinforce my body with magic so that it doesn''t get blown up when I take a bite."

    "¡­what?"

    "I didn''t think it was a good moment to tell you that bit," Cal says, having approached while we spoke. "You were worked up enough over the rest. Yeah¡­ that was another thing they''d mentioned. Greyson made exploding muffins to eat. He apparently has extremely good regeneration, and that''s why he disappeared for a few days a couple of months ago."

    "I didn''t expect them to blow up," I sigh. "And neutralizing the explosive magic ruined the flavor."

    Cal appraises Grandfather Adrian with wariness.

    "A man I don''t know," Cal says. "Greyson in his suit again, this early in the morning, and talking about Greyson stealing bombs. He''s finally being taken into custody, isn''t he?"

    "Not if I have anything to say about it," Grandfather Adrian says. "Hello, Cal. My name is Adrian King, and I''m your great-grandfather. Greyson decided to approach me last night instead of continuing to interfere with my attempt at contacting you and your brothers. However, I am the hand which allowed you and your brothers to continue living together in the trailer until David and Ryan here took you in. Your brother didn''t interfere in that."

    "It was necessary in order to ensure that the four of us were capable of continuing to live together," I state. "Otherwise, I would have taken other measures to ensure our-"

    "You were six."

    "And I had already hacked our mother''s and step-father''s bank accounts and drained them," I inform him. "That money has been placed into secure growth, resulting in nice savings for the four of us. I have also continued to hack any accounts which they have made and-"

    "Greyson," Grandfather Adrian''s voice is stern. "You will stop that. That also suggests you know where they are? I''ve not managed to track them down."

    "They arrived in Vegas Friday evening," I tell him. "And they mostly keep things in cash now since they realized any money they put in an account vanishes."

    "You''re our great-grandfather?" Cal decides to ignore me. "Your name sounds familiar."

    "He owns the Lumaria Group," I tell him. "Papa, are you or Dad making breakfast? Grandfather Adrian wants to do some stuff at my secret base."

    "Installing some additional security measures," Adrian says. "And making sure he doesn''t have anything truly contraband there."

    "While you''re talking with him about what he wants to do to me-"

    "It''s called ''oversight'', Greyson."

    "I''m going to go and-"

    "No, you don''t," my great-grandfather grabs my left ear. "You''re-"

    "NO EARS! NO EARS! NO EARS!"

    Grandfather Adrian very quickly releases my ear and I stop trying to claw at him to get his hand away. As soon as he''s let go, I run to my room. He''s still suppressing my teleport magics so I can''t escape to somewhere safer.

    In my room, I strip off my clothes and grab my blanket, then go into the closet and pull the door shut, using my magic to bundle me up in several layers of the blanket. Now I''m safe. No one can hurt me here. It''s going to be okay. It''s going to be okay.

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "Greyson," Grandfather Adrian says as I exit the hallway, now dressed in a pair of grey shorts with golden stripes and a golden sleeveless shirt that has a little griffin pattern on the left breast. Me, not my great-grandfather. "I want to apologize. I didn''t know you reacted severely to having your ears touched. Pinching the ear is how we keep kids from running off at my house. Can you forgive me?"

    Grandfather Adrian is sitting at the table with Dad, Papa, Cal, Travis, and Henry. Breakfast has been prepared and set out, and they''re all eating. Dad is sitting at one end of the table, with Papa to his right, as usual. Rather than sitting to Dad''s left like normal, Cal''s sitting in Travis''s usual spot, in the middle of that side, while Travis is sitting to his left. Grandfather Adrian''s sitting at that end of the table, and Henry''s in his normal spot to the right of Papa.

    That''s not right. That''s not right. They''re not in the right spots. And my spot is by Grandfather Adrian, in the empty spot to his left. I can''t sit down. I can''t sit down. What do I do? What do I do?

    "Greyson," Cal pats his usual seat. "Come sit next to me."

    But that''s not my seat. That''s not my seat.

    "It''s okay," Cal tells me. "Come on, Greyson. Before the food gets cold. Dad made waffles."

    "We get to have ice cream on them!" Henry bounces in his seat. "And they''re saying that this man is our great-grandpa and you know him?"

    I''m not sure about this. But I sit down in Cal''s normal seat. Cal puts one of the massive waffles on my plate, then gets a big scoop of vanilla ice cream to put on it before moving some of the toppings over.

    "What''s that in your hands?" Grandfather Adrian asks as my brother starts drizzling chocolate sauce onto the waffle and ice cream. "It looks like some sort of magitech sphere?"

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    I look down at the device I''m holding. It''s a 3.5" sphere with wedge-like metal panels that have gaps between them, a faint blue light emitting from within the depths of the device. I twist the sphere a little and the wedges shift, altering sizes and angles. The light within gets fainter by just a little.

    "Papa! Greyson''s playing with toys at the table again!" Henry exclaims.

    "No so loud," Papa says. "And we can see that, Henry. Stop tattling on everything. Greyson? Can you show your grandpa your fidget sphere?"

    Cal leans back as I hold up the sphere a little, then I push on one of the wedges. Several of them change shape and/or size slightly, while a few shift positions or even locations. The light gets a little bit brighter.

    "He made it a couple of years ago," Papa tells Grandfather Adrian as I lower the sphere back down to my lap, and Cal returns to putting toppings on the waffle and ice cream. "You can move the wedges, turn them, push them, pull on them, or even spin entire sections of the sphere. When you do something, several of the other wedges will shift, with the possibilities being size, angles, rotation, location, height, and even merging or splitting. How the sphere reacts to each possible action is then changed based on what action you did. The goal is to crack the pattern and get the entire sphere to be covered in a smooth plate. Once it resets, the formula that determines how things shift changes. The light inside gets fainter the closer you get to solving it and brighter the further you are, though the shifts are subtle."

    "Greyson''s weird," Henry tells Grandfather Adrian. "He makes the most useless things. Or dangerous things! He sometimes makes bombs!"

    "Or cars that shoot lasers," Cal says. "Greyson, that should be enough toppings. Go ahead and eat now, okay?"

    I pull on a wedge, and several others change and an entire segment of the sphere rotates.

    "Greyson, just eat!" Henry says.

    "Henry, zip it," Papa says. "You''re not in charge of him."

    "Neither is Cal!"

    "Can I be excused?" Travis asks.

    "Go ahead," Dad tells him.

    "How come he gets to go?" Henry asks.

    "Travis isn''t feeling well," Dad tells him.

    "Well, neither am I!"

    "No, you aren''t," Papa tells him. "Stop acting up or you''re getting grounded again."

    Henry pouts and I push in the same piece I''d pulled out, resulting in several more changes. None of those are the reverse of what happened when I pulled the piece out. The light grew a little brighter, too, so that was a bad move. There''s no "undo" on this. I try sliding another wedge, and several others shift.

    "Greyson told me it wasn''t him who made it," Cal says. "Wouldn''t say who did. But¡­ I guess he has a point?"

    "Yeah," Dad looks at Grandfather Adrian. "You''re right that school isn''t really suitable for Greyson. He either does well in a subject or doesn''t really pay attention. There''s no in-between. And the fact that he can do even a tenth of the things he does is just¡­ extraordinary. We''ve honestly been overwhelmed with him."

    "Greyson''s just weird," Henry says. "And you don''t punish him."

    "Greyson uses magic to get away from us," Dad tells him. "We''ve not had an actual way to effectively punish him. And stop being mean to your brother."

    "Our grandfather was just telling us about a school," Cal tells me as I turn a wedge, watching the shifts in others. "It''s a boarding school for geniuses. He says he thinks you might like it there."

    "You''d be allowed to return home on the weekends," Grandfather Adrian tells me. "As long as your grades are good and you''ve been behaving. They tailor the classes to the student rather than standardizing it per grade."

    I press in another wedge, and several pieces shift.

    "How come he gets to ignore people?" Henry whines.

    "Henry, stop," Papa says. "Keep it up and you''re getting grounded."

    "As we were saying before Greyson came out," Dad says. "We''re well-off, but we can''t afford a private school like that. Not if it''s one that could actually challenge and help Greyson. Especially with his¡­ quirks."

    "The school is free for entry," Grandfather Adrian says. "I fund it myself specifically so that child geniuses from less-wealthy families have an opportunity to go somewhere that can let them flourish. All that''s required is that the student passes the entrance exam, which is designed to see if the student would be challenged at the school."

    It''s been two months and I still can''t figure out this pattern. If only I could figure out what he based the overall code on, this would be a lot easier to solve.

    Maybe if I twisted it like this, then that piece would¡­ nope. That one turned, though, so maybe if I spun this part of the sphere¡­ yeah, that piece pushed out a little and this one resized. It got smaller rather than bigger, though, and its angles changed.

    I push in another piece, and one wedge changed its angles in the way I expected, but none of the other changes were figured out. What happens if I rotate this wedge? None of those movements match up with what I expected.

    "Greyson?" Dad says as I continue fidgeting with the puzzle sphere. "If I make you a fresh waffle, will you eat it?"

    "How come he can get a new waffle if he doesn''t eat it?"

    "Henry Greyson King!" Papa snaps. "Go sit in time-out!"

    Too noisy! Too noisy!

    Henry huffs and scoots back his chair, then stomps off to his room. That''s not time-out. That''s not time-out.

    "Careful with the rocking, Greyson," Dad says. "You''re going to whack yourself on the table if you go too much harder."

    "Greyson," Cal softly says. "If Dad made you a new waffle, would you eat it? This one''s a bit soaked from the ice cream now. I can eat this one for you."

    I nod. A new waffle is good. A new waffle is good.

    "Alright," Cal grabs the plate. "Dad''s going to make you a new waffle now."

    "Sorry," Papa tells Grandfather Adrian. "Things can be a bit rough sometimes, and Henry is¡­ also difficult, in his own way."

    "More typical of a child than Greyson," Grandfather Adrian says. "I''ve been alive for thousands of years and have dealt with many kids. I''m used to such behavior. Greyson is, if I''m entirely honest, a new case for me. Not him being Autistic, but the way his mind works combined with his level of power. We''re all fortunate that he''s not malicious. And that he was born in a branch line rather than the main line. He would no doubt have ten times as much mana if he were in the main line. He would also-"

    If I twist it like this¡­ yeah, that''s how I thought those two pieces would react. And then if I push this piece, then¡­ yep, those four reacted the way I expected. Pushing on this piece¡­ nope, nothing reacted the way I expected. Having ten times as much mana would be nice, would be nice. I''d probably heal a lot faster, too.

    That piece split into two? I thought it was going to elevate a bit more.

    Dad made three waffles and stacked them. At least Cal hasn''t scooped ice cream onto them yet. I set the puzzle sphere on the table beside me and separate the waffles, then coat each the bottom one in syrup, chocolate sauce, and caramel sauce. After adding sprinkles, I place a waffle on top and repeat the process. Once the third waffle is on top, Cal scoops out three scoops of ice cream and places them on top, then I add more toppings.

    What if I twist that piece? At least the light dimmed a little, but I didn''t anticipate any of the shifts that occurred.

    "Greyson?" Cal says as I finish eating. "They said that they''re going to your workshop, Dad and¡­ our grandfather? Mr. King because he needs to put in some new security measures for it now that you''re not going to disappear for it, and Dad so that he can at least know what''s going on? Would you be okay with me coming with you guys?"

    I don''t want people to know about the secret base, but Grandfather Adrian insisted that I let Dad know. He said that it would make my dad and papa more comfortable if at least one of them knew what it was like there. That makes me not want Cal there. At the same time, however, it might be better if he''s there. Safer. More comfortable.

    I''d rather Xander be there, but the longer it takes for Grandfather Adrian to meet him, the better. Something important is forgotten, though. Something important.

    I nod.

    "Okay," Cal says. "Why don''t you get ready to go?" He looks at Grandfather Adrian. "I got the impression that Greyson teleports there?"

    "He walks, actually," Grandfather Adrian says. "Though he manipulates his own time to reach it faster. I''ll be teleporting us all there, however. Greyson''s put in some powerful wards around the location to keep others out. You and David wouldn''t manage to enter unless we broke them. You wouldn''t even notice the place."

    Does sliding this piece in this direction, then sliding it back¡­ yeah, the light got brighter, but that piece there elevated a little bit, just like I expected. Then if I move this one like this¡­ yeah, those three reacted just as I expected, but those four didn''t.

    "Uh¡­ ''Xander''s Zone''?" Cal asks. "Xander does magitech, too?"

    Huh? I look up to find Cal starting to walk toward Xander''s zone. We only just got teleported here and he''s already walking there. Why did Grandfather Adrian teleport them into the secret base instead of the yard?

    Wait. No! The important thing I forgot! The important thing I forgot!

    "Mnh!" I run in front of Cal and stretch out my arms, shaking my head. "Nh! Nh!"

    "No?" Cal asks. "I can''t enter?"

    I shake my head.

    "Okay¡­" he looks at Grandfather Adrian. "Xander''s an orphan Greyson''s befriended. A good kid, though we only learned they knew each other yesterday, when they came to the restaurant together. He comes there most Saturdays at about one to get a piece of cheesecake."

    I forgot about the sign!

    "Xander?" Grandfather Adrian examines the sign for a moment, then examines me. "Would this be the Alexander King under the care of Trey Caldwell?"

    Oh, no! How did he learn about Xander without my awareness? Or is he plucking information out of the universe again?

    "It is," Dad''s staring at the opaque, glowing blue barrier surrounding my mega computer. "You know about him?"

    "Trey reached out to the group yesterday," Grandfather Adrian says. "He wants to look into some sort of arrangement for a treatment for a condition Xander has. It''s a bit¡­ on the expensive side. I''m the only source of one of the ingredients for it and it comes at a steep cost. I had just been notified of it not long before Greyson teleported to my home yesterday to speak with me, and was reviewing the case. I''ll properly research the situation after the holiday."

    That''s not good, but it seems there''s nothing I can do to interfere. Grandfather Adrian is already planning on personally involving himself. Since he''s aware of things, that means any interference which I perform will only make him more suspicious. Does twisting this piece make¡­ no, it caused half of the sphere to spin thirty degrees.

    Grandfather Adrian looks at the sphere in my hands, then into Xander''s Zone.

    "Though the mana signature in the sphere''s enchantments match the ones on some of the things in there," he says. "Not Greyson''s. I take it Xander made your puzzle?"

    I nod.

    "Wait, seriously?" Cal asks. "Xander made that? Not you?"

    Xander''s very smart. Only a god could make something this puzzling. He actually made three of them. I bet even Grandfather Adrian would struggle to solve it. Why did that piece rotate clockwise when I pressed this one in? It should have slid, shouldn''t it have?

    "Greyson," Dad looks at me. "What is behind this barrier?"

    "Probably his mega computer," Grandfather Adrian answers. "He insisted on putting a mana field around it to prevent me from using magesight to see its workings."

    That''s not actually a barrier but a dense wall of mana which acts as a barrier. It took me almost two hours last night to figure out how to set it up without having any exposed parts from the frame. I don''t want anyone stealing my world-changing project or its design.

    "Greyson, is that a bomb?" Dad spots something one of my workbenches.

    It''s an inactive bomb. I rarely make them live until I''m ready to use them. What kind of idiot does he take me for? I''m ten, not stupid.

    "Greyson," Cal says. "While Mr. King checks on your things and sets up the protections, can you show me a little of what you do while here? Dad might be more comfortable if you do that, too."

    Make a project? They actually want to see me make something? They''re always getting annoyed at me for it, though. But I can do that. I teleport the puzzle sphere into my backpack¡­ wait, when did I put it on? Well, no matter.

    I walk over to another part of the workshop and clear out a space, then start grabbing various tools and components to build a device. Dad and Cal watch as I work, and Grandfather Adrian watches a little bit as well, but also inspects some stuff. I keep an eye on him in case he tries to access my mega computer or Xander''s Zone.

    "How¡­ are you moving so fast?" Cal asks as I weld a panel into place.

    "He''s manipulating his personal time," Grandfather Adrian answers from where he''s inspecting some of the remote-controlled vehicles I''ve built. "It allows him to move at a faster pace than the world around him, and the spell is designed to not age him faster than normal time."

    "Oh," Cal says.

    "What are you making?" Dad asks.

    Wait, this enchantment is wrong. I scrap it and remake it, then assess it again before continuing on. After about two hours, I finish building the chamber, then strip off my clothes and enter it. There''s a slight humming sound as the machine powers up ¨C I designed it to do that ¨C and I can feel it working. Once it completes, I step out and get dressed, then tap the screen fixed beside the door a few times.

    Estimated Current Length of Puberty:

    1 year, 2 months, 23 days, 4 hours, 7 minutes, 39 seconds

    Error Rate: 12 minutes, 23 seconds

    Hm¡­ that''s not what my own calculations are for it, but maybe I was off on my math? Or the machine is. We both could be. I''ll need to perform some further tweaks to it. The error rate it gives isn''t what the machine has as a standard, but what it thinks the error rate on this specific estimate could be up to.

    "I think Greyson''s annoyed that you challenged his estimate yesterday," Cal quietly tells Dad.

    "I still don''t understand how you would estimate how long someone''s been in puberty for," Dad responds.

    "Considering the medical books on that shelf," Grandfather Adrian indicates a shelf. "Greyson''s probably researched more than a few things about the human body. It wouldn''t surprise me if he''s done his own analyses of others as well to help refine his ability to make such estimates."

    "Greyson has medical-" Cal looks over to the bookshelves. "Greyson, why do you have bookshelves filled with medical books?"

    Obviously, it''s so I can study up on medical stuff. It is important for the future of the world.

    "Never mind," Cal says. "Greyson, can we see your laser cars? Mr. King said you have a safe spot set up to play with things like that in."

    I teleport the cars out of my backpack and lead Cal and Dad outside, Grandfather Adrian following us. We go to the arena I''ve set up for playing with my remote-controlled toys, then set the laser cars into it. The arena is a space about twenty feet in diameter with a grassy ground floor rather than paved in some form, though I did put up a one-foot-tall retaining wall.

    "There''s magic woven into the retaining wall," Adrian tells Cal and Dad. "They create a barrier which prevents certain types of active magics from passing through. Also insects and, for some inexplicable reason, trees."

    One never knows when a tree might interfere with something.

    I teleport the controllers out of my backpack and hand one to Cal, then start using mine to make my car move. Using my controller, I show Cal how to make them move, including how to shoot the quarter-inch shots of lasers (they look closer to two inches as they fly) and how to summon the six-inch laser swords.

    Cal practices a little, then we battle our cars against each other, laser bullets splashing off of them and laser swords pushing the other car away. That continues until I manage to break through the shielding on Cal''s car and finish it off with a few well-aimed laser bullets.

    "Aaaand now it''s broken," Cal says. "Maybe we should have stopped after the first one broke through?"

    "But then we couldn''t rebuild them better!" I take the controller from him and teleport it and mine into my backpack, then retrieve the cars and teleport them into it.

    "Greyson," Grandfather Adrian approaches us, having walked off to examine other things while Cal and I battled our cars. "The stream that''s flowing through here¡­ is that a miniature hydroeletric generator?"

    "The mega computer needs a lot of energy," I say. "But the generator failed to produce enough. Same with the solar and wind power setups I tried. Magitech energy ended up being a requirement as well. They hydroelectric generator works well enough for other stuff, though. And I ensured it does not affect the stream''s ecosystem. That''s part of why it''s small."

    Xander complained about the bigger one messing with the fish, which is why I realized it needed to be shrunk. The stream itself isn''t massive or dangerous, but it''s big enough and the water flows quickly enough that I can produce some power from it. It''s also good for swimming in, but I only do that when Xander''s not here. I swim in the pond on the property if he is and I want to go for a swim.

    For some reason, he panics if I swim in the stream. I think maybe he thinks I''ll get swept away? The water isn''t that fast, though. Or that deep. It only goes up to right above my bellybutton.

    Oh. This reminds me that I need new swim trunks. I didn''t think about that while shopping yesterday, but if I''ve outgrown everything else, I''ve probably outgrown those as well.

    "Let''s show your dad the bomb zone," Grandfather Adrian says.

    "There''s a bomb zone here?" Dad asks. "I''m not sure I approve of this."

    "It''s well-warded," Grandfather Adrian says as we begin walking. "And one of the things I''m here for today is to make sure the wards are proper and strengthened further. One of the conditions for me to allow Greyson to continue is that anything he makes which he wants to use and which can''t be contained in the zone must go through the bomb squad with their supervision and in their designated location."

    Dad still doesn''t look happy, but I''m more than happy to show him the bomb field. It''s fifty feet in diameter, with a one-foot-tall retaining wall, also with magics woven into it to form the barrier.

    "-the zevelturim field technique allows for absorbing any excess mana in the explosion to strengthen the barrier as well," I say. "So that if a blast hits it, it''s weakened further. The technique also causes the impacts to be absorbed, their energy distributed. Sort of like punching a jar of slime versus punching the slime itself. Magic is being used to affect science. The explosion itself is magic, but the impact is a simple matter of science when it comes to force hitting object. It''s just that it''s magic causing the force, so the force itself can be greater and in some types of explosions, actually ignore scientific distribution of energy."

    "That sounds half-made up," Cal says.

    "The simple version," Grandfather Adrian says. "Is that there''s a non-solid barrier around the field which absorbs the mana and disperses the scientific portion of the force from the explosions. Greyson may be a bit of a maniac, but he isn''t really destructive. He likes explosions, but he prefers to keep them contained so they don''t cause problems."

    Dad still doesn''t seem happy. This may be a long day.

    "Let me put things this way," Grandfather Adrian tells Dad. "Would you rather know that Greyson is only blowing stuff up in approved, shielded areas, or knowing that he''s sneaking away to blow things up where there''s no guarantee of shielding?"

    "I don''t want Greyson doing either," Dad says. "It''s too dangerous for a ten-year-old!"

    This is going to be a long day.

    "So is attempting to tame griffins, yet Greyson does that, too," Grandfather Adrian says. "He''s either talked or beaten into submission every griffin within five hundred miles of here. This is a ten-year-old who can manipulate time and space, reinforce his body to the point that he can withstand high-power attacks, and will naturally regrow lost limbs in a matter of days. Unless his magic is sealed and he''s placed under heavy suppression, he''ll find a way. It''s better to monitor and regulate it than attempt to stop it."

    "You''re not giving me a choice, are you?" Dad asks.

    "You''re being given a choice," Grandfather Adrian says. "Of Greyson actually having supervision while he does this, or him sneaking around to do it without supervision. Which one sounds safer?"

    "Dad," Cal says. "He''s kind of right. Greyson''s been doing this stuff for years and our attempts at stopping it¡­ don''t work so well. We knew he was still doing some stuff, though we had thought he stopped with the bombs¡­" Cal gives me an unamused look. "And I doubt we could really stop him."

    "This is the contract Greyson has agreed to," a thick packet appears in Grandfather Adrian''s hands. "It details all of the restrictions he has to operate under and ensures that he doesn''t do anything too dangerous for him. He''s also required to report any weapons he''s created to me. Failure to comply with that clause will result in his magic being sealed for a month."

    It''s an evil contract, but if it''s what it takes to make Xander not upset with me, then I''ll do it.

    "I''ve been watching him for a little more than three years now," Adrian says. "As much as I could without causing him to vanish on us, at least. This will ensure there''s stricter oversight, and that he''s not breaking the law to get the materials he needs."

    While they discuss whether or not I''m going to be watched while I work on my projects, I decide to go inside and start repairing the laser cars. Them debating might take awhile and I have work to do.

 Chapter 036

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú begins around the same time as Chapter 35

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey knocks on my door, his voice soft. "Are you awake?"

    I get up and walk to the door to open it; Mr. Trey looks dressed as if he''s ready to go somewhere. Take me back to the home for not being clear on why I say my brain doesn''t need fixing anymore?

    "Good morning," he says. "I was thinking we could go out for breakfast today. Before you try to worry over the cost, I wouldn''t be asking if it wasn''t okay. I''ve given Katie the day off, so we won''t have be having something she''s making. There''s a pancake place I think you''ll like. It''s not as good as Katie''s pancakes, but they''re still good."

    If he''s really okay with spending the extra money¡­

    "Okay," I tell him.

    "Go ahead and get ready to go," he tells me. "Bring your backpack and if you want, Trenton."

    That doesn''t sound very good. He''s definitely returning me to the home now.

    "Okay."

    He leaves and I get ready to go, then head downstairs. Mr. Trey''s in the kitchen and beckons for me to come over.

    "Here," he says. "Just in case we end up out for awhile, I packed some snacks for you. Some fruits, some veggies, and some cookies. Also some lemonade and some milk."

    "S-sir?" What''s this about?

    "You tend to eat a lot," he says. "So I figured it might be best if we let you have some snacks to take with you, too. That way, if you get hungry while we''re out doing stuff, you can grab a snack. You don''t have to eat if you''re not hungry, but it''s there if you get hungry. Sort of like the food here in the house. This is just in case we do other stuff after breakfast instead of coming back here."

    Does that mean that Mr. Trey wants to do other stuff, but is waiting until after breakfast to tell me? Or during breakfast?

    This makes me even more nervous, but I put the snacks into my backpack, now understanding why he wanted me to grab it. Once they''re all in the bag, Mr. Trey and I get in one of his cars, and he starts driving us to wherever it is we''re going.

    "Judging by that noise you made," he says as we near the shopping street that I was at yesterday. "Something caught your interest?"

    "Oh," I say. "Um. Sorry. I didn''t mean to make a noise."

    "It''s fine," Mr. Trey says. "Want to share?"

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac were talking in the group chat. They''re craving donuts and are gonna go to Heidi''s Donut Shop. It''s a bakery that makes donuts. They''re all getting ready to go now, and then are gonna play at the park after."

    It''s not even seven yet but I guess they really want donuts.

    "The one on the street you were on yesterday?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Oh, right. Ms. Johnson told him about the street.

    "Yeah."

    "Do you want to hang out with them instead?" Mr. Trey asks. "You can if you want to."

    "They didn''t invite me."

    "Did they specify who was invited?"

    "No."

    "Did someone post in a group chat asking if anyone wanted to go get donuts and hang out at the park?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "That''s¡­" I check my phone. "Yeah. S.G. said he was craving donuts, then Connor asked if he wanted to get some, then S.G. said sure, then Connor asked if anyone else wanted to go. Sam and Isaac both responded, and Sam asked if everyone wanted to hang out at the park after."

    "Then it sounds like you''re included in the offer," Mr. Trey tells me. "Since they didn''t specify anyone specific or that you weren''t invited. If you''re unsure, we can head there now and if they don''t want you join them¡­ then we can get donuts for us. I''m curious about the ones there since you seem to like them."

    "They''re very good," I tell him. "And they have that special taste that makes them even better."

    "Mana?" He asks.

    "Maybe?"

    "That group of businesses cater to mages," he tells me. "So they''re probably made from magic ingredients."

    "It is?"

    "Tiffany mentioned it while we were talking," he says. "She said she was surprised they were so generous, especially to a non-mage. I did a little bit of research and found that it''s generally a good group, most of whom are old and retired from the jobs they did most of their lives or children of those who did that. They run the shops more for the fun of it than to earn money."

    "They''re all very nice," I tell him. "The mean workers usually aren''t around very long."

    "That''s good," Mr. Trey says. "You want to stop in, then?"

    He''ll really be okay with me not going to breakfast with him if S.G. and the others are okay with me hanging out with them?

    "I-if that''s okay?"

    "Sure," he says.

    Mr. Trey takes me to the bakery, then we head inside. S.G. and the others aren''t here yet, but Ms. Heidi comes out of the back shortly after we enter.

    "Oh!" She smiles. "Hello, Xander!"

    "Hello, Ms. Heidi," I say as I approach the counter. "This is Mr. Trey," I look down at Trenton for a moment, then back to Ms. Heidi. "Trenton wants me to tell you that he says ''hello'', too."

    "Hello, Trenton," she smiles at him, then looks at Mr. Trey. "Hello, sir."

    "Hello," Mr. Trey says. "It''s nice to meet you. Thanks for taking care of Xander all these years."

    What does that mean?

    "He''s a sweet kid," she tells him. "We all got worried when he suddenly stopped coming and were going to contact the home after the holiday if he hadn''t been back by then, to see if everything was okay. Finding out he''s getting adopted was a big surprise to us, and we''re happy to hear the news."

    They were going to contact the home? Who''s "we"? Ms. Heidi''s the only employee of this place, isn''t she?

    Mr. Trey and Ms. Heidi talk while I look at the donuts, though that gets interrupted when Connor opens the door and S.G. walks in.

    "Xander! Hi!" S.G. stops whatever he was saying upon seeing me.

    "Xander?" Connor asks as Sam enters, then Isaac enters and Connor does after him.

    This is weird. Why do I feel weird? Uncomfortable? Yeah, that''s it. This is where I find out whether I fucked up or not.

    "Hi."

    "You like the donuts here, too?" S.G. asks as the four of them quickly approach.

    "Y-yeah," I nod.

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey says, his voice a little quiet.

    Is that supposed to be a reminder?

    "O-oh," I nod again. "Um¡­ Y-you guys w-were talking a-about h-hanging out and g-getting donuts h-here¡­ a-and it was i-in the g-group c-chat t-that y-you a-added-"

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey says.

    I take a long, slow, deep breath, just like he''s taught me to do. After my third one, I try again.

    "Um¡­" what was I saying? "R-right. You guys were t-talking about hanging out and g-getting donuts here, and, um¡­ it was in the group chat t-that you added me to¡­ so I was w-wondering if m-maybe I c-could join?"

    "We were on our way to get breakfast near here when you guys were talking in the chat," Mr. Trey tells them.

    "Oh!" S.G. exclaims. "Yeah, you can join us! We would''ve said if you weren''t invited!"

    They really would''ve? So I guess it''s okay, then.

    "If we''re asking in the group chat for hanging out," Connor says. "And we aren''t just doing something like ''wanna come over, Sam'', then it''s for everyone in there!"

    "O-okay," that''s a big relief. I didn''t fuck up. They''ll probably want to order first and Ms. Heidi is waiting for sure. "Y-you guys can order yours first. I-if you know what you w-want. I-I don''t mind."

    I don''t know what I want yet because I was mostly just looking at the donuts.

    "We need to see what''s available!" Sam tells me. "You can go ahead and order!"

    "I haven''t decided yet."

    I go back to looking at the donuts, and they do as well, then start placing their orders. They''re each ordering three donuts, but I feel hungrier than that.

    "If you want to get a lot," Mr. Trey quietly tells me. "You can. They have a dozen for fifteen dollars here."

    "But isn''t that only for ten?" I ask.

    "It''s a deal," he tells me. "A discount for buying a bigger amount."

    "Oh," I say. "C-can I really get a dozen? I''m really hungry but it''s a lot of money."

    "Yeah, no, Xander, it''s okay," Mr. Trey seems upset. "Breakfast at a restaurant would have cost us more than this and I was fine with that, wasn''t I?"

    I upset him for mentioning the cost, didn''t I? He really seems okay with the extra cost.

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "O-okay," I walk up to Ms. Heidi is. "Hi again, Ms. Heidi."

    "Hello again, Xander," she smiles sat me. "What would you like?"

    "Mr. Trey said the dozen is only fifteen dollars even though it''s twelve and not ten?" I hope Mr. Trey doesn''t get too upset with me for double-checking this.

    It''s really confusing.

    "It''s a deal," she says, and I think that means the same thing that Mr. Trey told me. "You want to buy a dozen?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "May I please have, um¡­ what was it?" I''ve forgotten what I wanted, haven''t I? Wait, no, I remember. "Oh, um. Three circles with maple icing, three rectangles with maple icing, three bear claws, and three strawberry jelly-filled with the sugar dusting, please. That''s twelve, right? Three¡­ four times¡­" ew, even numbers. "Twelve."

    "Alright," Ms. Heidi says. "And for the last donut?"

    "The¡­ last one?" I thought I counted right. "Did I mess up the math? I''m sorry. Um¡­"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says as I start looking at the displays again. "Your math was right. A lot of bakers do thirteen for a dozen."

    "But that''s not twelve?"

    Buying donuts is too confusing!

    "It dates back to ancient times," Ms. Heidi tells me. "Consider it a bonus."

    "Oh," I try to think of something. "Maybe an apple fritter, please? Is that counted as a donut?"

    "It does for the dozen," she answers as she adds an apple fritter to the bag. "And that''s thirteen! That''ll be fifteen dollars."

    Wait. Am I paying for this or is Mr. Trey? He wasn''t very clear and¡­ he''s handing me some cash. I guess he''s paying but I''m the one giving her the money. I give the money to Ms. Heidi, who gives me the bag with my donuts and a receipt.

    "Have a good day, boys," she tells all of us.

    Is she counting Mr. Trey in that?

    "Have a good day," I tell her as the others all tell her goodbye, too.

    We lave the shop and Mr. Trey beckons for me to step to the side for a moment.

    "Let me, Quinn, Frank, or one of the others know if you feel unsafe," he tells me. "Or when you''re ready to be picked up. Don''t be afraid to tell the other boys if you don''t want to do something or if you''re getting uncomfortable. If they''re as good of kids as they seem, they''ll be okay with that and respect your boundaries. Okay?"

    I''m not so sure about that, but I guess I''ll try.

    "Okay," I say.

    "Here," he hands me some money. "Thirty dollars, to get you something to eat if they want to get lunch after the park."

    Money?

    "But-"

    "The only condition is that you give me the receipt and change from lunch," he tells me. "Now go have fun, okay?"

    "Okay¡­"

    Mr. Trey heads to his car and I join the others, who waited for me.

    "You guys can ride your bikes to the park," I tell them. "I can catch up to you there."

    "Nah," Connor says. "We always walk our bikes after getting donuts. Let''s walk!"

    "Oh," my face heats up. Stupid me. "Okay."

    We walk to the park and once we reach it, they put their bikes and backpacks at a table.

    "We''re going to go buy some milk," Sam tells me. "The shop right over there sells bottles of it. If you don''t have money, I can pay for it! Don''t worry!"

    Why would he do that?

    "I''ve got milk in my backpack," I tell him. "Um¡­ I can watch everyone''s donuts? If¡­ if you''ll trust me with it?"

    "Sure!"

    They put their donut bags down, then tell me that they''ll be back in a few minutes. I wait for them to return before starting to eat. There''s a trash and recycling can set nearby, and we throw all of our trash in there, making sure to put everything in the right ones.

    "Um¡­" what if they get upset with me and don''t want to hang out anymore. "I''ve never really played at the park before, so I dunno what to do¡­ but I''ve seen you guys playing basketball. And soccer, I think?" I think that''s it. "And football¡­ I''m not sure about that one, but I''ll keep score if you want."

    Now that my brain''s not broke anymore, I shouldn''t even struggle do to it without a scoreboard.

    "We don''t play for points," S.G. grins at me. "Just for fun! We all bring stuff to play with. Like, I''ve got a basketball in my backpack."

    "Soccer ball," Connor shows me the ball in his backpack.

    "Football," Sam says.

    "I''ve got a disc, some hacky sacks, beanbags, and more," Isaac tells me. "It''s whatever we all feel like playing. What do you feel like playing?"

    "Um¡­" so many choices, and what if I say something they don''t want to play? I don''t know? I''m not really sure the rules for any of them¡­ and I know I was taught in school and stuff for soccer and basketball, but it¡­ didn''t stick. Disc is the one you throw around, right? With the spinning? How do you get it to spin?"

    Isaac pulls out a disc, then the four of them teach me how to make it spin. They even teach me some different throwing techniques for it. I''m really bad at throwing it and trying to not throw too hard results in me throwing it too weakly, but trying not to do that causes me to throw it too hard.

    None of them complain about that and even start playing with me. I''m really bad at this but they still do their best to catch the disc when I throw it in their direction. I do my best to catch the disc, too, and even manage to eventually grab it before it hits the ground.

    "Nice catch!" S.G. exclaims, then starts jumping up and down with his hands up. "To me! To me!"

    I throw the disc toward him and he shouts and rushes and jumps to catch it, but misses because I threw it too fast by accident. Isaac manages to get the disc as S.G. does some sort of roll as he lands, springing to his feet with his fists in the air.

    "Perfect landing! Ten out of ten!"

    "Sorry!" I didn''t mean to throw it that hard!

    "For what?" S.G. pulls off his shirt for some reason and throws it to the side. "Half the fun''s trying to catch the disc!"

    "Catch this!" Isaac throws the disc, and the game continues.

    When the game stops so we can catch our breaths, we return to the table to get drinks. They pull water from their bags while I pull lemonade from mine, along with a few grapes. I hope they didn''t see me do that because I''m not sure if I''m allowed to share. Mr. Trey said they were for me.

    Isaac pulls off his shirt, too. Are we supposed to be doing that, or is it just that they''re hot? I''m glad I went with one of the magic shirts today, since I don''t want to do that. Though it does remind me that even though my brain is fixed up, I''m still not healthy. I still don''t have abs yet.

    "Want to learn how to play with a hacky sack?" Isaac asks after we''ve rested for a few minutes.

    "Um¡­ what''s a hacky sack?" I ask.

    Isaac puts the disc into his bag and pulls out several small balls that look like they were crocheted with smaller threads. They sound like beanbags when they move.

    "When playing with them," he tells me. "The goal is to keep them in the air using just your feet and knees. No hands. You can do it alone or in a group. We like to play it in a group."

    "Ooh! It''s super fun!" Sam exclaims.

    He''s being really loud¡­ but I''m scared to say it. They all got noisy during the disc game and I didn''t say anything because I didn''t want to stop and they''d probably make me.

    "I-if you guys want to play it."

    "It''s if we all want to play," Connor tells me. "Unless you want to sit out and rest a bit?"

    "N-no," I shake my head. "B-but I don''t know how to play with it."

    "Do you want to learn?" S.G. asks. "We can teach you!"

    "S-sure."

    Isaac lets me pick which one I want to play with, so I go with the one that''s black and green, then they all grab hacky sacks and start showing me some kicks with them. I practice and try my best to follow their advice, and even manage to start kicking it once or twice before missing.

    "Let''s kick one in a circle," S.G. says as I start to do two hits more consistently.

    Oh. I guess he''s getting bored of waiting for me to be good enough for this. It''s probably time for me to take another break, anyway, so I start to walk to the table.

    "You don''t want to play?" S.G. asks.

    Well, yeah, but why would you want to play with me?

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "I''m not good," I tell him.

    "So?" He asks. "We all start somewhere!"

    "Yeah!" Sam agrees. "In fact, one of the first rules to it is ''don''t apologize for a bad kick''! It''s so important that it comes before the rule about not hogging the bag or that you retrieve it if you kick it away from the group by accident!"

    "You want to give it a try?" Isaac asks. "We can do something else if you don''t."

    "Uh¡­"

    This is so hard! And confusing! They''re really okay with me joining them even though I''m bad at it since I only just started learning? I know they say that hanging out like this is a group activity and they make decisions together, but it''s so hard and confusing!

    But I do want to play with them. And they all seem actually wanting to play with me. And Mr. Trey keeps saying¡­

    "Okay," I nod. "Let me make sure Trenton''s okay."

    I walk over to the table, where Trenton''s been watching us from.

    "Are you doing okay?" I ask him. "You''re not getting scared, are you? Oh, okay. Um¡­ I don''t really understand the rules but I''ll try my best."

    He''s apparently enjoying watching us.

    I return to the others and we form into a circle, then start kicking the sack. It''s kind of fun, but I''m worried that I''m going to kick S.G. or Sam by accident because we''re all kind of close.

    "S-sor-"

    "No apologizing!" They all say at once.

    No apologizing. That''s a rule, and a really confusing one to me. I don''t get why I''m not allowed to apologize for messing up here, but I want to follow the rules so I nod to them. Then I retrieve the ball. A couple of more times, I start to apologize, but I manage to stop starting to apologize for failed kicks or bad kicks.

    Connor doesn''t even get mad when I accidentally hit him in the chest with the hacky sack. In fact, he does a sort of chest-bump to it and then catches it with his left foot and kicks it up, then kicks it with the side of his left foot and sends it toward Isaac.

    That was so cool!

    After a few more passes between players, Sam passes the sack toward S.G. and Connor, but I can''t tell who it was meant for. It doesn''t seem they can, either, as they both go for it, which results in S.G. kicking Connor.

    "Sorry!" S.G. grins at Connor.

    "Just for that," Connor''s grinning in a not-mean way. "I''m not kicking it to you for at least five passes!"

    So he''s not upset about getting kicked? It''s probably just because they''re friends, but maybe it''s not so bad if I accidentally kick someone while trying to get the sack. And it means that I can apologize for an accidental person-kick, too. That''s good.

    Especially because I do that a few minutes later, accidentally kicking Sam.

    "S-sorry!" I apologize. "I-I didn''t realize I got that close!"

    Before I can add that I thought I''d backed away a little, Sam starts talking with a big, friendly smile.

    "It''s cool!" He tells me. "I''ve nearly kicked you a few times, too! I think we''re all a little too close!"

    He really isn''t mad at me! I can tell because I''m looking in his eyes and he doesn''t seem like he''s upset and he was honest when he said "it''s cool", which I''m pretty sure is another way of saying "it''s okay"!

    We space out a little bit more than we were before and return to playing for a bit.

    "I need another break," I tell the group after missing the ball sack the¡­ I lost track of how many times, this was too fun. "I''m feeling a little tired."

    "Alright!" Isaac says. "Let''s all take a break, then!"

    "You don''t need to," I say. "I just need to rest a little."

    "It''s fine," Isaac says. "I need some more water, anyway!"

    We return to the table and get some drinks, and Connor pulls off his shirt. He''s all sweaty and even pulls a small towel from his bag to wipe some of it off with. I guess it''s just that they''re hot and not that we''re required to. Unless there''s something that determines when someone pulls one off? That''s two who''ve done it after a game ended.

    Socializing is hard!

    When they''re not looking, I try to sneak out some baby carrots and a cookie. It''s a lemon cookie and it tastes really good. I feel bad for not sharing, but Mr. Trey didn''t say I could.

    "Hey, Xander," that sounds like Parker and when I look over, I see that it is Parker. Along with two mean-looking boys. "How''s it going?"

    That''s asking me how I am, right?

    "Hi, Parker," I greet him. "I''m not sure. But I''m having fun. How are you?"

    There. I covered all of it, right?

    "Why are you talking like that?" One of the mean-looking boys says, and he looks really annoyed and his tone wasn''t very nice.

    Talking like what?

    "Hey!" S.G. exclaims. "What''s wrong with how he talks?"

    "Yeah," Connor says right after. "Xander talks fine!"

    "He talks weird!" The mean boy says. "It''s weird!"

    "You''re weird!" Sam says before I can even try to figure out how I talk weird. "Xander''s fine!"

    Am I really?

    "Hey, Xander!" Isaac says before I can figure out how I talk weird. "Greg''s on our school''s bowling team."

    "You are?" I look at the mean kid. If he''s on the bowling team, then does that mean he''s better than S.G. and his friends? Mean kids like him shouldn''t be good at stuff, that''s just not right. "What''s your average?"

    "I score a 137 on average," Greg puffs out his chest. "I''m one of the best in our age group!"

    That doesn''t make sense, especially since I can tell that he''s being honest.

    "Really?" I look at S.G. and his friends. "Don''t you guys score around 250-275 on average? That''s what the TV says when you play. Are you not on the team?"

    "Nah," S.G. shrugs. "We play for fun!"

    They do?

    "Even though you do, like, um¡­ loads better than the team''s best in our age?"

    "Yup!" Isaac grins at me. "And you do even better than us, Mr. Always-Strikes! So don''t listen to that idiot. You talk fine, he''s just jealous of our mad skills!"

    I have no clue what that means.

    "No way do any of you score over 200!" Greg huffs. "Even the best kids on the team can''t do that!"

    "But that''s what the screen says at the end of their games," I say.

    "Will you please talk normally?" The mean kid snaps.

    "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Parker snaps at him. Oh, no! Parker''s getting upset because of me! "Just because he talks different, that doesn''t mean you can be rude to him! He''s not even doing anything wrong, he''s just having fun with his friends!"

    I really talk different? How come no one''s told me? I don''t want to talk different!

    "Hey, Xander!" S.G. pokes me on the arm, causing me to jump in fright before I realize it''s him. No panicking. No panicking. No- "Sorry. Wanna race to the trees? Last one there''s a rotten egg!"

    Racing sounds more fun than being around a bullly.

    "But I don''t want to be a rotten egg," I say.

    "It''s a figure of speech," S.G. tells me. "It''s just for fun!"

    Oh. Stupid brain. It''s not broke anymore, but it''s still not smart.

    "Oh," I think for a moment. "Can I be a cheesecake when I come in last?"

    Parker''s friends start making even more mean comments about that, even calling me stupid. I was just trying to go with using figures of speech for fun. What am I doing wrong? How mad is Parker going to be at me for making him fight with his friends? I''m not trying to screw up, I''m sorry!

    "Well," S.G. says as Parker snaps at his friends again. "It''s supposed to be something bad, that you don''t want to b."

    "Oh," that makes more sense, since it''s for coming in last. "What about an unripe banana?"

    "Okay!" S.G. grins. "Last one there''s an unripe banana! Readysetgo!"

    He takes off running before I realize that he was starting. That''s not fair! I wasn''t ready yet! I start running after him, doing my best to catch up. He was probably just trying to make sure I lost and I don''t care if he gets mad at me if I come in first¡­ not after I actually manage to get ahead of him.

    But then I forget to slow down when I reach the trees and trip over my feet.

    "Xander!" S.G. exclaims, putting on more speed than he was doing to reach me sooner. "Are you okay?"

    He''s offered me a hand to help me up and he really seems concerned. Maybe he wasn''t trying to be mean with not giving me time to get ready for the race?

    "Yeah," I answer, which is true. There was pain, but only for a moment, so now I''m mostly just embarrassed and wish I could hide. But I don''t think that''s what he was meaning, so I''m pretty sure the answer is true. "I think I tripped on my feet. I¡­ forgot to slow down before stopping."

    "You cut your cheek," he says as Connor, Sam, and Isaac reach us. "Let''s go to the restroom and get that washed."

    "Your hands, too," Sam says. "You scraped them up."

    I did? I look down at my hands and find blood on them, along with some scratches.

    "Oh."

    "We''ve got first-aid kits in our bags," Connor tells me. "Dad makes us just in case. We can put on some antibiotic ointment and sprays."

    They do that, too? There''s no need for them to use their stuff on me, I can use mine.

    "I''ve got that in my backpack," I tell him. "I¡­ think I''m fine, though."

    It doesn''t hurt anymore.

    They walk with me to the restrooms and I wash off my hands and my cheek, finding that the wounds are gone. Oh. Right. I heal really fast now that I''ve got plenty of mana stored up. I''m not building up a lot more of it like I normally would since those spells are still active, but I''ve got plenty leftover form the mana potion that Greyson gave me.

    "But where''d the blood come from?" Isaac asks after noticing the cuts are gone.

    "I healed up."

    "That fast?" Isaac asks.

    "Yeah," how do I get out of revealing that I apparently am a Lumaria King? "Um¡­ I guess I''m not the unripe banana?"

    Please work!

    "Nope!" Sam responds. "I am, since I came in last! Let''s go back to our stuff!"

    Phew! Distraction successful!

    We return to the table with our things at it and Parker''s there alone, without his friends, and looking very unhappy. He''s really mad at me, isn''t he? It''s all my fault he got into a fight with his friends!

    "S-sorry," I start to apologize to him.

    "What?" Parker frowns. Oh, no! He''s really upset now! "I''m not mad at you, Xander. They were being jerks for no reason. And now we aren''t friends anymore."

    He means him and them, right? Because we were never friends.

    "S-sorry!"

    "Not. Your. Fault," he huffs. "I''m tired of being put between my friends. First Luke, now you," what does that mean? "I''d rather hang out with cool people than deal with that. Do you guys mind if I join you for a bit? I dunno what you''re playing, but it sounds fun."

    He''d rather hang out with me even though I made him break up with his friends? Wait.

    "How does it sound fun if you don''t know what it is?" I ask, which causes S.G. and his friends to giggle. "What? And do I really talk weird?"

    "No," S.G. answers. "They were just being mean."

    But then why were they saying that?

    "I mean¡­ yeah, a little," Parker tells me. "But don''t worry about it. Different people talk in different ways and you can still be understood just fine. They were just being jerks for no reason. So. Cool with me joining you guys?"

    If he''s really not upset with me, then I guess I am. But the thing about how I talk is still confusing me. I guess it''s better to focus on trying to have fun, though, so that I don''t ruin the day for everyone else even more than I already have. Are S.G. and his friends okay with Parker joining us?

    "We are," S.G. tells me. "So if you don''t mind, then yeah! We could even group up into teams for something!"

    I''m not good at team games.

    "S-sure," I nod. "Okay. Um. What next? I don''t¡­ really understand the rules for this."

    Please don''t be mad that I don''t really understand socializing and playing games.

    "We can throw the disc around some more," Connor tells me. "Or play with the hacky sacks again. Or play beanbags, hide-and-seek, tag, kick a soccer ball, shoot some hoops, throw a football¡­ lots of choices!"

    "Shooting hoops is basketball, right?" I whisper to S.G.

    "Yeah!" Connor answers.

    Well, I guess I didn''t need to ask S.G. specifically, he was just the closer one.

    "Um¡­ basketball and soccer and football are all bumping things, right?" I''m not sure I want to play those, but I can sit out and watch if they want to.

    "Bumping things?" S.G. asks.

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "What that''s-"

    "Oh!" Sam exclaims. "You mean where we bump into each other? Not really deliberately most of the time, but yeah! It can happen!"

    "I¡­ might need to rest a bit," I say, which is true. "I''m tired. If you guys want to play those, I can watch."

    "It doesn''t have to be one of those," Isaac tells me. "It''s whatever we all want to play! We''re hanging out together!"

    "I do need to rest a little," I tell him. "So it''s okay. You can play something I don''t want to and not worry about that."

    "We''ve got cards!" Sam pulls a deck out of Isaac''s backpack. "We could play a game with them!"

    They even brought cards?

    "I don''t know very many games," I tell him. "Mostly Go Fish. I think I was taught something else, but I don''t remember."

    "Then let''s do Go Fish!" Connor sits down, and the others all do as well.

    Hoping that they''re like Mr. Trey and don''t mind if I''m good, I play as best as I can. They don''t even seem bothered that I keep getting right guesses or when I remember what card someone has that I also have.

    "Man, you''re good!" Isaac exclaims after the fifth game. I''ve won all of them. "What''s your secret?"

    Is this so he can decide how mad to be? It''s better to be honest regardless, so that they aren''t mad at me for lying.

    "Um¡­ I was mostly guessing."

    "Wait, hold on," Parker holds up a hand. "You were whupping our butts at Go Fish by guessing?"

    He''s mad!

    "S-sorry!"

    "Dude!" S.G. exclaims. "That''s freaking awesome! I wish I could get that lucky with guesses!"

    "You wanna keep playing?" Connor asks. "Or wanna switch to something else?"

    They all probably want to do something else. I''d rather keep playing¡­ but we''ve played five games already.

    "Um¡­ what do you guys wanna do?" I ask.

    "You wanna try football?" Sam asks. "We don''t do tackle football. We''re probably not even playing it right. But we play flag football and divide into teams, and we toss the ball around. We all wear belts with strips called ''flags'' on them, and the goal is to get the ball by pulling a flag from a belt on the person with the ball, but only if they''re on the other team."

    "Yeah," Isaac says. "Don''t pull a belt from the same team."

    This doesn''t sound as bad, though I''m not too sure about having people run up to me and grab stuff that''s on me. At least there''s no tackling.

    "And if you fumble the ball," S.G. tells me. "It''s cool. Just grab it and keep running. Sometimes we play with goal spots marked out, sometimes we just keep throwing the ball and running around until we''re ready to change games. But we don''t usually play for points."

    There''s really no tackling?

    "No tackling?" I ask.

    "No tackling!" Parker confirms. "Just running around, but the opposing teammates might get close to you if you have the ball."

    Maybe I can give this try and see if I''m okay with it. They all want to play it and I do want to play with them.

    "I-I can try," I tell them. "But I don''t promise to be good. And I don''t know how to properly throw a football. Um. Can I learn?"

    "Sure!" Connor answers.

    He grabs the football and we move away from the table a bit, then they teach me how to hold and catch the ball, and how to throw it. I flinch a few times when the ball comes toward me, but manage to stop doing that once we''re passing it back and forth for a bit. They''re all tossing it to me so I can practice catching, then I''m throwing it to one of them to practice throwing. I mess up a bit, but they just give me some help instead of getting mad.

    They''re really being nice. I''m really not used to this but it feels good. This isn''t even the first time. All throughout this hangout, and when we talk at the bowling alley, and when we hung out at Mr. Trey''s house last weekend¡­ it doesn''t even feel like they''re forcing it. This is just¡­ how they are, isn''t it?

    "Hey, guys!" Someone calls out. There''s a boy and a girl our age approaching; it was the boy who spoke. "Can we join you?"

    "Sure," S.G. says, then looks at me. "You cool with them joining us? They''re pretty cool people."

    If S.G. and his friends think they''re okay, then maybe they are? I''m not so sure. But I don''t want to tell them they can''t hang out with their other friends.

    "Um¡­ if you guys are, then I guess that''s okay?"

    "He''s someone''s cousin?" The girl asks.

    "Probably," S.G. shrugs, and I really don''t know what he means by that. Does he know? "This is Xander. He goes bowling at the same place we do so we''ve been seeing him for awhile. We started hanging out a few weeks ago. He''s a cool dude and only bowls strikes! But he''s not good at sports. He''s practicing throwing and catching the football right now, then we''re gonna play flag football. He''s gonna be going to school with us; was living in Hidden River until the start of June, but''s in Dragon Falls now."

    "Oh, cool," she smiles at me. "Nice to meet you, Xander! I''m Macy! I prefer volleyball, but don''t mind football!"

    "Ethan," the boy introduces himself. "I play football for the school. Nice to meet you."

    "Um¡­ hello," I greet them.

    That''s a safe greeting, right? Since I don''t know whether or not it''s really nice to meet them?

    "We''re passing the ball to Xander," Connor tells them. "Then he''s passing it to one of us. That''s why we''re in a semicircle like this."

    "Cool," Ethan says.

    He and Macy join the semicircle and join us for me practicing, which I find weird. They just¡­ accepted it and joined us? And Ethan''s even giving me some tips for catching and throwing that the others didn''t know.

    "I-I think I''m ready," I tell them after a few more minutes. "If¡­ if you guys think I''m ready enough?"

    "Sure!" Ethan says. "You''re doing pretty good for someone who''s just started!"

    "And it''s all for fun, anyway," Isaac tells me. "So it''s okay to make mistakes."

    "Let''s do shirts-versus-skins," Ethan pulls off his shirt. "Since half of us are shirtless, that makes picking the teams easier."

    I guess that''s one way to pick teams that doesn''t rely on who likes who more. Though Ethan pulled off his shirt just to pick the team he''s on¡­ and nobody is going to convince me that having abs isn''t a sign of being healthy. Football players are healthy, right? They need to be to play right. And he''s got abs.

    Sam pulls out belts with strips that are the "flags" on them from his backpack, four of which have two blue strips and four of which have two green strips. Shirts are green, skins are blue.

    The game begins and it''s just us running around and catching and passing the ball and pulling flags. I''m not good at any of it, but I still try my best because it''s kind of fun.

    Even if they are really noisy and shout a lot. And try to block my path, which I learn is in order to keep me from getting to someone and grabbing their flags. I''m supposed to do that as well, and my teammates don''t get mad at me for failing on the times I try. I also almost never manage to throw the ball to one of them before someone grabs one of my flags, but no one gets upset with me.

    People going for my flags kind of freaks me out a little, but I try my best not to panic because I don''t want them to get upset. This is fun, too, so I want to keep playing as long as possible.

    "To me! To me!" S.G. calls to Ethan at one point, and Ethan throws the ball towards him.

    I want to try and get S.G.''s flag, so I run over as he evades Macy, slipping away from Isaac as he attempted to block my path. When I come up behind S.G., I make sure to slow down so I don''t run into him and¡­

    "Ah!" It''s in my hand. "I¡­ got a flag?"

    I got a flag! I got S.G.''s flag! It''s my first time grabbing one!

    "How did you get over here so fast?" S.G. asks.

    "I ran?" Did I teleport without realizing it or learning the spell? I don''t think so. "Was I¡­ not supposed to?"

    "He started running over as soon as Ethan threw the ball," Isaac laughs. "I tried to block him off but he''s fast."

    "Oh," S.G. holds the ball out to me. "Here, Xander! Your turn with the ball!"

    I give him back his flag and the game continues. At one point, I trip over my feet and fall but get back up so I can keep playing. This really is a lot of fun and I''m glad they let me hang out with them. When a couple of other boys walk over and ask if they can join in, they''re split onto the two teams and the one who goes to the blue team takes off his shirt.

    No abs, so he''s probably not fully healthy. But it''s not really my concern, so I keep playing the game as best as I can.

    Though I can''t play for very much longer, as I''m really tired and am even sweating. Not from the heat, just from running around so much.

    "I''m going to take a break, too," Parker tells the others.

    Parker walks with me to the table as the others adjust the teams to keep playing.

    "Xander," Parker says as we reach the table and I pull out some snacks. It''s probably safe to eat them with him seeing, and I''m feeling really hungry. "Please know that I''m not mad at you. I don''t like people being mean to others, especially not to my friends, and they''ve been mean to Luke before, and now they were mean to you."

    "But I''m not your friend?"

    "Well, I mean, sort of?" He seems about as confused as I am. "But it doesn''t matter. I like you well enough, anyway. What they did was wrong, not you."

    "Do I really talk weird?"

    "Don''t pay them any mind," Parker tells me. "They were just being jerks."

    "But you said I do talk weird."

    "A little bit different," he says. "But I doubt Luke''s noticed, and I doubt S.G. and his friends have noticed. And it''s okay to talk a little bit differently. It''s not really how you pronounce things but¡­ how you say them? I''m not sure I''m explaining it well. But it''s really not a problem, so don''t worry about it."

    "Okay¡­" if he really says it''s not a problem, and S.G. and the others haven''t noticed, and Mr. Trey isn''t putting me in a speech class again to learn how to talk right, then maybe it''s not a problem. "Um¡­ you live next to Luke, right? His other neighbor?"

    "You want to know how I know S.G. and them?" Parker asks, and I nod. "I used to live near here. Mom and Dad have been doing the catering thing for a long time but never really saw a reason to move somewhere big and fancy. But then I made friends with Luke, so they decided to move us somewhere¡­ fancier, I guess? They got a good deal on the house."

    Parker helps his parents with catering, too. Even he earns money. Him, Luke, and S.G. all make money and they''re not much older than I am. Well, I guess Luke''s almost a year older than I am. But he''s been working at his family''s business for longer than a year.

    "Catering makes lots of money?"

    "Yeah," he nods. "But I think Luke only knows the earnings for mundane catering ¨C non-magical catering. I get the impression that he thinks my parents make a lot less than they do. And I think he thinks they make the average salary for that¡­ combined. Not individually. They make about a quarter of a million a year combined."

    "Whoa."

    "Yeah," he nods. "Most of their clients are mages, and the food that''s served is usually magic. It tastes better, even if there''s no added flavor. And it''s for high-end customers, so the quality''s even better. You spend ten cents on an apple and they''ll spend thirty or forty."

    That''s¡­ a lot of money. And magic in the food doesn''t add a flavor, just makes it taste better? I''m pretty sure there''s a special flavor in all of the magic food I''ve eaten. It goes with everything.

    "And you help your parents?" I ask.

    "Sometimes," he nods. "It depends on the event and what I do. My parents are just salaried. They figured that''s better for them since they own the business, run it, and fill in when needed on top of doing some events themselves.

    "Yesterday," he says. "They had to rush to help out with an event due to some of the staff not showing up. The actual shift started at three in the afternoon ¨C but hors d''oeuvres weren''t served until seven, dinner was at eight, and dessert was at nine-thirty. The event ended at eleven. The caterers didn''t leave until one in the morning."

    "That much?" I ask.

    "That much," he nods. "We have to set up the tables, prepare the food, serve the food, wash the dishes, tear down ¨C take down ¨C the stuff. Also get everything to the location and bring it all back once it''s over. That was a ten-hour shift."

    "Whoa."

    "This is a catering service that caters to high-end mages," he says. "Starting wage is $30 an hour. That''s $300 for that one event. And that''s for someone who just started working with the group. Someone in a normal, non-high-end catering service, might make $20 an hour after being there a year or two."

    "Whoa."

    "Yeah," he nods. "I get paid hourly when I help out rather than salary. Gets me cash to play video games and buy clothes and stuff."

    That seems like a lot of work, and his parents let him do it, too. So S.G. does things like walking dogs and mowing lawns, Luke makes magitech generators, and Parker helps his parents with a catering service. There''s no way I can do any of that stuff, but I''m sure there''s something even a stupid boy with no talents like me can do.

    "Oh," Parker says. "Hey, Xander? You said something to Luke last night that¡­ and before you get worried, I''m not mad. Can you see affinities in mana? Like, magical aspects?"

    "Sort of?" I frown. "And only when I use my magesight. That bit only started up a few weeks ago, and I think it''s broke. Like, it says yours is like lava but you and Luke said that you just have an earth affinity."

    "Actually," Parker scratches his cheek. "I have a lava affinity, but I''ve never told anyone. Not even my parents. And Luke was the one who told you, which is probably why you didn''t realize it wasn''t true. I''m not mad that you mentioned it to Luke, since you didn''t know I''m not telling anyone and he told me the context for it. But would it be okay if I asked you not to mention it to others? When people find out that you have a special power or are a prodigy in some regard, they tend to put you on a pedestal and I don''t want that."

    "I-I can try," I tell him. "My memory should be better now since my brain''s not all broke anymore."

    "Your brain''s not broke any more?" He asks. "What does that mean?"

    "Oh, they''re coming over," I put the container with cantaloupe chunks back into my backpack. It''s just S.G. and his friends, the others are grabbing their things and leaving. "Isaac? Can I please play with one of your hacky sacks again? Is that okay? I want to try getting better at it."

    Please don''t be mad!

    "Sure," he answers. "Want to play in a group again?"

    "Um¡­ that was fun," I tell him. "Yeah. I mean, yeah, I do. If you''re okay with that. Can we?"

    "Sure!" He answers. "Mind if we take a few minutes to catch our breaths first?"

    They really do want to play with me more, and he''s really not mad for me asking? I''m really happy about that.

    "No," I answer, since I think this is a case where it''s okay to say that.

    "If you want to practice a bit while waiting, you can," Isaac tells me as he sits down.

    "Okay."

    I get up and play with the green-and-black hacky sack a bit, then the others and Parker join us, as do a couple of girls no one in the group seems to know. They''re friendly, though, so everyone agrees to let them join us.

    "I''m hungry!" S.G. says once we stop playing, then he checks his phone. "Oh! It''s lunchtime!"

    "We''re going to get something to eat," Isaac pulls his shirt back on. "You guys wanna join us?"

    Mr. Trey did give me some money so that I could.

    "My mom''s gonna pick me up soon," Parker tells him. "They haven''t been home for meals much recently so we''re doing a family lunch."

    "Have fun!" S.G. tells him, then looks at me. "What about you?"

    "Um¡­ where are you going?" I ask. "To eat, I mean."

    "Haven''t decided yet!" Sam answers. "Do you want to join us? What are you in the mood for?"

    "Burgers," I answer.

    Everyone says what they want for lunch, and it comes out to be two for burgers, one for hot dogs, one for chicken strips, and one for grilled cheese. I don''t know the restaurants and places they''re discussing, but it seems like this isn''t an "everyone has to want what they serve" thing because they pick a place that does burgers, sandwiches, grilled cheese, and so on. No chicken strips or hot dogs. Connor and Isaac don''t seem upset by that, though, so I guess it''s okay.

    At the diner, I try not to eat quickly but I''m really hungry. We all get dessert after our meals, and I make sure to get a receipt and change.

    Today was pretty fun, and it''s barely noon. I hope the rest of today goes this well, though I decline when they ask me if I want to come to Connor''s with them to play video games. As much as I''d like to hang out with them more¡­ I''m tired and need a nap. I can barely pay attention to the conversation.

    I decline going to laser tag with them today when they invite me. It''ll probably be even noisier and busier than the park and I don''t think I can handle that. They remind me about the barbecue on Tuesday after that.

    Also about going to the local fair, but I don''t go to those because they''re too crowded and noisy for me. I don''t know if Mr. Trey has plans, either, so I tell them that.

    Mr. Trey couldn''t have arrived at a better moment than this because I really am tired and could do with some sleep. I can barely pay attention to what S.G. and his friends are saying. After telling them bye, I get into Mr. Trey''s car, buckle up¡­ and fall asleep by accident.

 Chapter 037

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú begins around the start of Chapter 36

    "Morning, Aunt Rachel!" I greet my aunt as I make my way to the back door.

    She''s making breakfast right now; it looks like bacon and eggs, and maybe toast? Normally, I''d be more than happy to stop and wait for her to finish preparing it, but I''ve got other plans for breakfast. More delicious ones!

    "Going somewhere?" She asks.

    She probably figured that out since I have my backpack and bike helmet on. Why is she doing this, though? Mom and Dad are home now so it''s not like she''s watching me anymore.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Gonna meet up with Connor, Sam, and Issac and get breakfast, then head to the park! See you later!"

    "Hold on," she says. "Do your parents know?"

    Ugh. Why does it matter? They don''t care what I do, and they weren''t even out here until probably five minutes ago, and they''re both watching the morning news. As long as I don''t cause problems, they don''t care what I do.

    "Mom! Dad! I''m going to the park!"

    "Have fun," Mom says without looking away from the TV.

    "Stay safe," Dad says without looking away from the TV.

    "There," I tell Aunt Rachel. "They know. Bye!"

    I head out the back door, a little bit annoyed. Why did Aunt Rachel want my parents to know? They really don''t care what I do as long as I don''t cause problems. Free-range parenting, or whatever.

    I grab my bike and take it out to the front, making sure to lock the gate behind me, then hop on it and ride to the mage downtown district. Seeing Xander''s flower crown yesterday made us all want donuts from there, even if there''s really no point to eating food from that district unless I''m low on mana and need to recover it a little bit faster. It''s all pretty good, though. The workers there know how to make good food.

    By the time I reach the district, I''m almost not annoyed with Aunt Rachel any longer. I love her to death but she can be a bit weird and overbearing sometimes. It really doesn''t matter if Mom and Dad know I''m leaving. I was hoping this would stop once they got home but it apparently hasn''t.

    The others will take a little bit longer to arrive since I live the closest to the district. Is Ms. Laney in? I think her shop should be open¡­ she''s putting out he sign right now!

    "Hi, Ms. Laney!" I say as I reach her, hopping off of my bike. "How''re you?"

    "Not bad," she tells me. "What about you? You look a bit down, S.G. Want a crown?"

    "Gonna be playing at the park after this," I tell her. "Thanks, though. And yeah. My aunt''s staying with us while getting a house in the area. She''s a bit more than I''m used to. But I mostly just wanted to say hi! Also that I saw the crowns you made for Xander and Trenton yesterday, and they looked pretty cool!"

    "You know him?" She asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "He goes bowling at the same place we do on Tuesdays, at the same time. Started talking with him after he got his new home ''cause we thought he was being stalked ''cause he''d never been there with someone else before, but it just turned out to be his new dad. We even got him into our group chat! Well, we had to make a new one since it wouldn''t let us just add someone for some reason. Mr. Caldwell was waiting for him at the park yesterday while he was here, and we were playing there, so we saw him after he left here. He''s really cool."

    "He is," she agrees. "Xander''s been stopping by this street for years. We all got concerned when he stopped for a bit, but it seems he was just nervous about asking his new dad for permission."

    "For years?" I ask. "Really? But he''s averse to magic stuff and you''re all¡­ y''know, the mage downtown of the area."

    All of the shops around here cater to mages and pretty much exclusively sell magic-based items. Even the flowers in this shop are magic, though the ones she uses for flower crowns aren''t the useful sort of magic, they''re just¡­ magic.

    "I don''t think he''s aware of that," she chuckles. "I think he was just going for a walk the first time he passed through here. I saw him looking a bit down and offered him a flower crown to cheer him up. Looks like your friends are here. You have a good day, alright?"

    "Will do!" I salute, then turn around and head over to my friends, who are approaching.

    "Hey, guys!" I say.

    "Hey, Sig!" Connor and I do a half-hug, before I do the same with the others as we all greet each other.

    "Ms. Laney said that Xander''s apparently been coming here for years," I tell them as we walk over to the bakery, which already has a sign out on the sidewalk. "But she doesn''t think he''s aware that it''s a mage-focused shopping district. I was just telling her that the crowns she made him and Trenton were pretty cool."

    "They were!" Isaac agrees. "Those probably weren''t his first ones. Do you think he likes them?"

    "He definitely likes them," Sam gives him a light shove. "Xander looked so happy."

    "Do you think she''s got a fresh batch of donuts?" Connor asks. "I like ''em when they''re still hot."

    The bakery opens at six, to allow for people heading into the office or whatever to pick up some stuff before going in. Chances are good that fresh batches will be getting made soon, but not right at this moment.

    "She''s been open for an hour now, so probably not hot donuts," I say as he opens the door to the bakery and I step inside. "But they''re definitely gonna be-Xander! Hi!"

    "Xander?" Connor asks as Sam enters.

    Xander''s standing near the counter, where Ms. Heidi is. He looks a little bit uncomfortable and has Trenton in his arms, along with his backpack on his back. His shirt today is a plain grey one that looks a little bit older, but he''s in athletic pants that look fairly new.

    Mr. Caldwell is here, too, but that''s not as important. I wasn''t expecting to see Xander here! This is a big surprise! He must have been craving Ms. Heidi''s donuts after visiting the street yesterday!

    "Hi," Xander''s voice is small, his cheeks slightly tinted with red.

    "You like the donuts here, too?" I ask as we all hurry over to him.

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods.

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey gently says.

    "O-oh," Xander nods. "Um¡­" he shifts a little, then looks at me. "Y-you guys w-were talking a-about h-hanging out and g-getting donuts h-here¡­ a-and it was i-in the g-group c-chat t-that y-you a-added-"

    "Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Caldwell gently tells him.

    Xander nods, then takes three long, slow, deep breaths.

    "Um¡­" he screws up his face for a moment. "R-right. You guys were t-talking about hanging out and g-getting donuts here, and, um¡­ it was in the group chat t-that you added me to¡­ so I was w-wondering if m-maybe I c-could join?"

    "We were on our way to get breakfast near here when you guys were talking in the chat," Mr. Caldwell tells us.

    "Oh!" I say. "Yeah, you can join us! We would''ve said if you weren''t invited!"

    "If we''re asking in the group chat for hanging out," Connor tells him. "And we aren''t just doing something like ''wanna come over, Sam'', then it''s for everyone in there!"

    "O-okay," Xander looks massively relieved for some reason, then glances at Ms. Heidi for a moment before looking back to us. "Y-you guys can order yours first. I-if you know what you w-wanted. I-I don''t mind."

    "We need to see what''s available!" Sam says. "You can go ahead and order!"

    "I haven''t decided yet."

    We all look at the selections, then I pick out two chocolate-iced ring donuts, both of which have sprinkles on them, and a chocolate-iced long john donut, also with sprinkles on it. Connor gets a blueberry cake donut, a chocolate-iced ring donut with sprinkles, and a maple-iced ring donut with sprinkles. Sam goes with three with plain icing ring donuts that have sprinkles, which is really boring. Isaac picks out a jelly-filled donut with a sugar dusting, a cinnamon twist donut, and a cream-filled, chocolate-iced long john with sprinkles.

    "Yeah, no, Xander, it''s okay," Mr. Trey quietly tells Xander as Isaac pays for his donuts and accepts the bag from Ms. Heidi. "Breakfast at a restaurant would have cost us more than this and I was fine with that, wasn''t I?"

    Xander''s worried about money? Whoa. If my dad were as rich as Mr. Caldwell, I''d never be worried about spending four-fifty on some donuts. Well, I''m not right now, either. Since Aunt Rachel paid for a good portion of what I needed for my computer, I''ve got plenty of extra cash.

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods. "O-okay," he walks up to where Ms. Heidi is. "Hi again, Ms. Heidi."

    "Hello again, Xander," she smiles at him. "What would you like?"

    "Mr. Trey said the dozen is only fifteen dollars even though it''s twelve and not ten?" Xander seems confused.

    "It''s a deal," she says. "You want to buy a dozen?"

    "Y-yeah," Xander nods. "May I please have, um¡­ what was it? Oh, um. three circles with maple icing, three rectangles with maple icing, three bear claws, and three strawberry jelly-filled with the sugar dusting, please. That''s twelve, right? Three¡­ four times¡­ ew¡­ twelve."

    I don''t think the muttered "ew" was intentional, but I really want to know what that was about. That''s also a ton of donuts. Is he wanting to share, or can he really eat that much even this early in the day?

    "Alright," Ms. Heidi says. "And for the last donut?"

    "The¡­ last one?" Xander looks really confused. "Did I mess up the math? I''m sorry. Um¡­"

    "Xander," Mr. Caldwell softly says. "Your math was right. A lot of bakers do thirteen for a dozen."

    "But that''s not twelve?" Xander looks even more confused now.

    "It dates back to ancient times," Ms. Heidi tells him. "Consider it a bonus."

    "Oh," Xander thinks for a few moments, but still looks confused. "Maybe an apple fritter, please? Is that counted as a donut?"

    "It does for the dozen," she tells him as she takes his bag of donuts to where the apple fritters are to add one to it. "And that''s thirteen! That''ll be fifteen dollars."

    Xander looks at Mr. Caldwell, who hands him a couple of bills. Xander checks them, then hands them to Ms. Heidi, who gives him a receipt and the bag.

    "Have a good day, boys," she says.

    We all tell her bye and leave, then Xander says goodbye to Mr. Caldwell and joins us in walking toward the park. Xander told us we could ride our bikes and he''d catch up to us at the park, but we don''t ride our bikes after getting donuts, just walk them.

    There''s a shop near the park where we buy milk at, though Xander says he has some in his backpack and decides to stay behind when we go to buy ours. I guess he''s still a little bit sleepy. Once we return to the park, we all sit at a table to eat the donuts. Xander¡­ really eats the entire baker''s dozen he bought.

    "Um¡­" Xander says after we throw our trash away. "I''ve never really played at the park before, so I dunno what to do¡­ but I''ve seen you guys playing basketball. And soccer, I think? And football¡­ I''m not sure about that one but I''ll keep score if you want."

    "We don''t play for points," I grin at him. "Just for fun! We all bring stuff to play with. Like, I''ve got a basketball in my backpack."

    "Soccer ball," Connor opens up his to show it.

    "Football," Sam says.

    "I''ve got a disc, some hacky sacks, beanbags, and more," Isaac says. "It''s whatever we all feel like playing. What do you feel like playing?"

    "Um¡­" Xander thinks for a few seconds. "Um¡­ I don''t know? I''m not really sure the rules for any of them¡­ and I know I was taught in school and stuff for soccer and basketball, but it¡­ didn''t stick. Disc is the one you throw around, right? With the spinning? How do you get it to spin?"

    Isaac opens up his backpack and pulls out the faded, once-dark blue disc, then we teach Xander how to make it spin and some different throwing techniques. His aim is pretty bad and he tends to either throw too hard or too light, but it''s still fun to try and catch his throws when it''s his turn.

    "Nice catch!" I exclaim when Xander catches the disc for the first time, that one thrown by Isaac. "To me! To me!"

    Xander takes a couple of steps as he performs his throw and I guess he''s trying to compensate for having thrown too lightly last time because the disc flies fast.

    "IgotitIgotitIgotit!" I exclaim as I rush to where it''s going and jump to try and catch it, but miss and land on the ground as the disc continues flying. Instead of just landing, though, I make sure to shift it into a roll so I can spring back to my feet. "Perfect landing! Ten out of ten!"

    "Sorry!" Xander squeaks.

    "For what?" I ask as I pull off my shirt; it''s getting warm out here and we''re moving around a lot. "Half the fun''s trying to catch the disc!"

    "Catch this!" Isaac shouts, having already retrieved the disc.

    "Got it!" I try to catch it, only to miss.

    Connor catches the disc and throws it toward Sam, who doesn''t manage to catch it but does quickly get it.

    We play for a little bit more, then stop to catch our breaths and drink some water. In Xander''s case, it''s lemonade from a bottle that was in his bag and a few grapes from a container. Isaac peels off his shirt, having gotten a bit hot as well, and drops it with mine by our stuff.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Once we''ve all rested for a few minutes, we offer to teach Xander how to play with a hacky sack. Isaac always has a variety of them, in the crocheted design, and we let Xander pick which one he wants to learn with. He picks the green and black one, which doesn''t surprise me, then we all pick out ours and start showing him.

    At first, Xander is pretty clumsy with the kicks even with the tips we show him, but it takes him less than ten minutes to be able to consistently make contact with the sack. He''s not good at aiming the sack with his kicks, but he can manage one or two contacts before it''s lost.

    That''s really impressive.

    "Let''s kick one in a circle," I suggest once Xander seems to have gotten the hang of it, and he starts to go to the table that has our stuff. "You don''t want to play?"

    "I''m not good."

    "So?" I ask. "We all start somewhere!"

    "Yeah!" Sam says. "In fact, one of the first rules to it is ''don''t apologize for a bad kick''! It''s so important that it comes before the rule about not hogging the bag or that you retrieve it if you kick it away from the group by accident!"

    "You want to give it a try?" Isaac asks. "We can do something else if you don''t."

    "Um¡­" Xander thinks about it for a moment, then nods. "Okay. Let me make sure Trenton''s okay."

    Xander goes to the table and talks to his bear for a moment, then joins us again. We play with the blue-and-green sack that Sam had used for solo play, the others dumped back into Isaac''s bag. The circle we form goes Xander, Sam, Isaac, Connor, and me when going clockwise. A few times, Xander starts to apologize after a bad kick, but catches himself after the first time that we remind him there''s no apologizing.

    "Sorry!" I exclaim when I accidentally kick Connor while trying to get the sack after a pass from Sam, one which Connor also went for, neither of us managing to get it.

    "Just for that," Connor swipes the sack from the ground before I can grab it. "I''m not kicking it to you for at least five passes!"

    For some reason, Xander seems to relax after that¡­ which is confusing but I guess he was worried about accidentally kicking someone? It doesn''t matter, though, so I return to playing without thinking on it more.

    "S-sorry!" Xander apologizes to Sam after accidentally kicking him. "I-I didn''t realize I got that close!"

    "It''s cool!" Sam grins at him. "I''ve nearly kicked you a few times, too! I think we''re all a little too close!"

    We space out just a little bit more because he''s right, we were probably too close to each other. After that, the game continues until Xander wants to rest a little. We all hydrate and Connor pulls off his shirt, then grabs a small towel from his bag to wipe off sweat with. With it being summer and us moving around a lot (some of those kicks required us to run to catch), we''re all getting a bit hot. I''m surprised that Xander looks as cool as a cucumber with his long-sleeved shirt and his pants.

    Xander opens up a container with baby carrots in it and eats a few of them before returning it to his backpack. Another container is pulled out, from which Xander grabs a lemon cookie.

    "Hey, Xander," a familiar voice says, and we all look over to see Parker approaching us along with his friends from DFMS. I''ve never liked those other boys and really hope they keep their mouths shut. They seem to like ruining people''s fun. "How''s it going?"

    "Hi, Parker," Xander says. "I''m not sure. But I''m having fun. How are you?"

    "Why are you talking like that?" Greg asks.

    "Hey!" I say. "What''s wrong with how he talks?"

    He''s having fun! That''s awesome! I was worried he wasn''t enjoying it because he''s not looked happy as we played.

    "Yeah," Connor says. "Xander talks fine!"

    "He talked weird!" Greg states. "It''s weird!"

    "You''re weird!" Sam says. "Xander''s fine!"

    "Hey, Xander," Isaac says before anyone else can say something. "Greg''s on our school''s bowling team."

    "You are?" Xander asks Greg, though he still looks upset by the jerk''s comments. "What''s your average?"

    Oooh! I know what Isaac''s doing! We''ve learned over the last few weeks that Xander can''t help but be honest about his curiosity and confusion when he''s more relaxed, even if he''s uncomfortable. It can be a little bit annoying, but Isaac''s probably trying to show Xander that the other kid''s all talk.

    "I score a 137 on average," Greg boasts. "I''m one of the best in our age group!"

    "Really?" Xander gives us a confused look. "Don''t you guys score around 250-275 on average? That''s what the TV says when you play. Are you not on the team?"

    "Nah," I say. "We play for fun."

    "Even though you do, like¡­ um¡­ loads better than the team''s best in our age?"

    "Yup!" Isaac says. "And you do even better than us, Mr. Always-Strikes! So don''t listen to that idiot. You talk fine, he''s just jealous of our mad skills."

    "No way do any of you score over 200!" Greg says. "Even the best kids on the team can''t do that!"

    "But that''s what the screen says at the end of their games," Xander says.

    "Will you please talk normally?" Greg snaps.

    "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Parker snaps at him. "Just because he talks different, that doesn''t mean you can be rude to him! He''s not even doing anything wrong, he''s just having fun with his friends!"

    Xander talks different? It looks like he''s getting upset by this and I''ve never noticed something different about his speech.

    "Hey, Xander!" I lightly poke him in the arm and he jumps. "Sorry. Wanna race to the trees? Last one there''s a rotten egg!"

    "But I don''t want to be a rotten egg," Xander says.

    "What a freak," Alan, Parker''s other friend, says.

    "It''s a figure of speech," I tell Xander. "It''s just for fun!"

    "Oh," Xander thinks. "Can I be a cheesecake when I come in last?"

    That prompts more comments from Parker''s friends, who are arguing with him while I semi-distract Xander.

    "Well, it''s supposed to be something bad," I say. "That you don''t want to be."

    "Oh," he thinks again. "What about an unripe banana?"

    "Okay!" I say. "Last one there''s an unripe banana! Readysetgo!"

    I take off running and Xander quickly starts running, too. Connor, Sam, and Isaac are just a little bit behind us, and Xander actually manages to pull ahead of me. Stopping when he reaches the trees¡­ proves a little difficult and he ends up tripping and falling.

    "Xander!" I put on the most speed I can to reach him more quickly, then help him up. "Are you okay?"

    "Yeah," he answers. "I think I tripped on my feet. I¡­ forgot to slow down before stopping."

    His face is bright red. Aw. Now he''s super embarrassed and¡­ wait, that bit of red isn''t from his face being flushed.

    "You cut your cheek," I say. "Let''s go to the restroom and get that washed."

    "Your hands, too," Sam says, he and the others having reached us. "You scraped them up."

    Xander looks down at his hands.

    "Oh."

    "We''ve got first-aid kits in our bags," Connor says. "Dad makes us just in case. We can put on some antibiotic ointment and sprays."

    "I''ve got that in my backpack," Xander examines his hands. "I¡­ think I''m fine, though."

    We still go to the restrooms with him when he cleans off his hands and his cheek¡­ and there aren''t any scrapes? Xander seems only mildly surprised by that.

    "But where''d the blood come from?" Isaac asks.

    "I healed up."

    "That fast?" Isaac asks.

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "Um¡­ I guess I''m not the unripe banana?"

    Man does he have his priorities straight!

    "Nope!" Sam grins. "I am, since I came in last! Let''s go back to our stuff!"

    When we reach the table with our things, Parker''s sitting there without his friends, looking rather aggravated.

    "S-sorry," Xander apologizes to him.

    "What?" Parker asks. "I''m not mad at you, Xander. They were being jerks for no reason. And now we aren''t friends anymore."

    "S-sorry!"

    "Not. Your. Fault," Parker huffs. "I''m tired of being put between my friends. First Luke, now you. I''d rather hang out with cool people than deal with that. Do you guys mind if I join you for a bit? I dunno what you''re playing, but it sounds fun."

    He finally made the right choice! Those boys are massive jerks and not people good guys like Parker and us should hang out with.

    "How does it sound fun if you don''t know what it is?" Xander asks, causing the rest of us to giggle. "What? And do I really talk weird?"

    "No," I answer. "They were just being mean."

    "I mean¡­ yeah, a little," Parker says. "But don''t worry about it. Different people talk in different ways and you can still be understood just fine. They were just being jerks for no reason. So. Cool with me joining you guys?"

    "We are," I tell Xander when he looks at us. "So if you don''t mind, then yeah! We could even group into teams for something!"

    "S-sure," Xander nods. "Okay. Um. What next? I don''t¡­ really understand the rules for this."

    Rules for what?

    "We can throw the disc around some more," Connor says. "Or play with the hacky sacks again. Or play beanbags, hide-and-seek, tag, kick a soccer ball, shoot some hoops, throw a football¡­ lots of choices!"

    "Shooting hoops is basketball, right?" Xander whispers.

    "Yeah!" Connor nods.

    "Um¡­ basketball and soccer and football are all bumping things, right?"

    "Bumping things?" I ask.

    "Yeah," Xander nods.

    "What''s that-"

    "Oh!" Sam exclaims. "You mean where we bump into each other? Not really deliberately most of the time, but yeah! It can happen."

    "I¡­ might need to rest a bit," Xander says. "I''m tired. If you guys want to play those, I can watch."

    Why would he-ooooh. Right. Us running close to him while playing one of those might freak him out, and he''s offering to rest a bit so that we can do that without worrying about him if we want to play one of those. He does look a little bit tired, too.

    "It doesn''t have to be one of those," Isaac tells him. "It''s whatever we all want to play! We''re hanging out together!"

    "I do need to rest a little," Xander tells him. "So it''s okay. You can play something I don''t want to and not worry about that."

    Taking a few minutes to rest right now isn''t a bad idea. We have been running around for awhile already.

    "We''ve got cards!" Sam gets into Isaac''s backpack and pulls out a deck. "We could play a game with them!"

    "I don''t know very many games," Xander says. "Mostly Go Fish."

    "Then let''s do Go Fish!" Connor sits at the table, and we all do the same.

    Sam pulls the cards out of the box, then shuffles and deals five to each of us, including Parker. It only takes a few games for us to realize that Xander is damn good at this. Is he counting cards? I don''t really know how that works so I''m not sure if that''s what he might be doing. But he''s got something helping him out.

    "Man, you''re good!" Isaac tells him after our fifth game. "What''s your secret?"

    "Um¡­ I was mostly guessing," Xander says.

    "Wait, hold on," Parker says. "You were whupping our butts at Go Fish by guessing?"

    "S-sorry!"

    "Dude!" I say. "That''s freaking awesome! I wish I could get that lucky with guesses!"

    "You wanna keep playing?" Connor asks. "Or wanna switch to something else?"

    "Um¡­ what do you guys wanna do?"

    "You wanna try football?" Sam asks. "We don''t do tackle football. We''re probably not even playing it right. But we play flag football and divide into teams, and you toss the ball around. We all wear belts with strips called ''flags'' on them, and the goal is to get the ball by pulling a flag from a belt on the person with the ball, but only if they''re on the other team."

    "Yeah," Isaac says. "Don''t pull a belt from the same team."

    "And if you fumble the ball, it''s cool," I say. "Just grab it and keep running. Sometimes we play with goal spots marked out, sometimes we just keep throwing the ball and running around until we''re ready to change games. But we don''t usually play for points."

    Xander''s breathing increases a little as he thinks and that''s when I remember that he probably doesn''t feel comfortable with this sort of thing. Someone running up to him might freak him out. Before I can figure out what to say, Xander speaks.

    "No tackling?"

    "No tackling!" Parker says. "Just running around, but the opposing teammates might get close to you if you have the ball."

    Xander shifts a little in his seat, then nods.

    "I-I can try," he says. "But I don''t promise to be good. And I don''t know how to properly throw a football. Um. Can I learn?"

    "Sure!" Connor answers.

    We teach Xander how to throw the football, with us passing it back and forth with each other a few minutes as he gets the hang of it. He''s got some pretty good hand-eye coordination, his main problem is actually getting to the ball when trying to catch it and his aim when throwing it. The game wouldn''t be as fun if we don''t have to chase after it, though.

    "Hey, guys!" Some friendly voices call out, and we look over to see a couple of our classmates walking over. "Can we join you?"

    It''s Ethan and Macy, a footballer from our middle school and one of the girls from the volleyball team.

    "Sure!" I say, then look at Xander. "You cool with them joining us? They''re pretty cool people."

    "Um¡­ if you guys are, then I guess that''s okay?"

    "He someone''s cousin?" Macy asks.

    "Probably," I shrug. "This is Xander. He goes bowling at the same place we do so we''ve been seeing him for awhile. We started hanging out a few weeks ago. He''s a cool dude and only bowls strikes! But he''s not good at sports. He''s practicing throwing and catching the football right now, then we''re gonna play flag football. He''s gonna be going to school with us; was living in Hidden River until the start of June, but''s in Dragon Falls now."

    "Oh, cool," she says. "Nice to meet you, Xander! I''m Macy! I prefer volleyball, but don''t mind football!"

    "Ethan," Ethan introduces himself. "I play football for the school. Nice to meet you."

    "Um¡­ hello," Xander says.

    "We''re passing the ball to Xander," Connor tells them. "Then he''s passing it to one of us. That''s why we''re in a semicircle like this."

    "Cool," Ethan and Macy take up spots, then we resume passing the ball back and forth.

    Ethan gives Xander a few tips on catching and throwing as we do this, then once Xander''s ready, we divide up into teams. Since three of us are already shirtless, Ethan strips off his shirt and we play shirts-versus-skins, with the shirts having green flags and the skins have blue. Sam brings a set of ten flag belts with the football, so that we can play in teams of up to five.

    Xander panics a few times when people go for his flags, but soon stops as he really gets into this.

    "To me! To me!" I call to Ethan, who throws the ball over to me.

    I run around Macy and go to throw the ball to Connor, only to feel a tug at my belt as a flag is pulled off.

    "Ah!" A surprised exclamation sounds out from behind me as I turn to find Xander there. "I¡­ got a flag?"

    Parker cracks up laughing as I try to figure out when Xander got behind me. He was by Isaac a moment ago, wasn''t he?

    "How did you get over here so fast?" I ask.

    "I ran?" Xander looks confused. "Was I¡­ not supposed to?"

    "He started running over as soon as Ethan threw the ball," Isaac laughs. "I tried to block him off but he''s fast."

    "Oh," I say. "Here, Xander! Your turn with the ball!"

    I give Xander the ball and he returns the flag to me so that I can stick it back onto my belt. We all go to our starting positions, then resume playing. Xander still seems a bit uncertain, but I see him manage his speed demon act a few more times. He falls when he tries to maneuver away from someone and takes a few moments to get back up, but doesn''t look like he''s bothered by it. I''m so glad he''s having fun, it''s more fun when we''re all enjoying the game.

    A couple of other boys join us for the game, though Xander only manages to last about five more minutes after that before he needs to take a break. Parker decides to take one at the same time, so we resume play after adjusting the teams again.

    "And you''re a hellhound''s snack!" I stick my tongue out at Sam after intercepting a throw to Macy. "Whoa!"

    Pete, one of the boys who joined us late, nearly grabbed one of my flags. I evade him and toss the ball to Ethan, who catches it in a jump-and-roll to show off.

    Once those of us who''ve been playing here for awhile need a break, we end the game and rehydrate. Xander''s munching on a strawberry cookie when we rejoin him at the table, though he''s also got a container with cantaloupe slices in front of him.

    "Isaac," Xander closes the container and returns it to his backpack. "Can I please play with one of your hacky sacks again? Is that okay? I want to try getting better at it."

    "Sure," Isaac answers. "Want to play in a group again?"

    "Um¡­ that was fun," Xander says, then his cheeks flush red. "Yeah. I mean yeah, I do. If you''re okay with that. Can we?"

    "Sure!" Isaac answers. "Mind if we take a few minutes to catch our breaths first?"

    "No."

    "If you want to practice a bit while waiting, you can," Isaac takes a seat.

    Xander gets up and plays with the same hacky sack he played with while practicing earlier, then we join him after a few minutes. Parker joins us for the game, as do a couple of girls I don''t know but who seem friendly enough that we don''t mind the addition.

    "I''m hungry!" I say after we finish playing, then check my phone. "Oh! It''s lunchtime!"

    "We''re gonna go get something to eat," Isaac says as he grabs his shirt to pull back on. "You guys wanna join us?"

    "My mom''s gonna pick me up soon," Parker says. "They haven''t been home for meals much recently so we''re doing a family lunch."

    "Have fun!" I tell him, then look at Xander. "What about you?"

    "Um¡­ where are you going?" Xander asks. "To eat, I mean."

    "Haven''t decided yet!" Sam answers. "Do you wanna join us? What are you in the mood for?"

    "Burgers."

    "I want chicken strips," Connor says.

    "Burgers," Sam says.

    "Hot dogs," Isaac says.

    "Grilled cheese," I say.

    A variety of options, which leads to us discussing different diners and restaurants we could go to. Xander doesn''t know vary many so it''s the rest of us making suggestions. It takes us a few minutes, but we settle on a burger place that also does grilled cheese, melts, and other sandwiches. No chicken strips or hot dogs, but it''s a compromise.

    Once that''s decided and everyone has their shirts on and things gathered up, we walk our bikes to the diner and lock them to its bike stand, then head inside and sit at a table. Sam and Isaac sit on one side of the booth while Connor, Xander, and I sit on the other, with me in the middle and Xander at the aisle.

    "This was fun," I tell Xander after we all finish lunch and leave the diner. "We''re gonna head to Connor''s to play some video games. Want to join us?"

    "Um¡­ I want a nap," Xander says. "Sorry. Mr. Trey''s on his way to pick me up."

    "It''s cool," I say. "You going to join us for laser tag today?"

    "No," Xander shakes his head. "Sorry. I¡­" he takes a deep breath. "I don''t think I could do something like that with so many people and stuff and noise and stuff."

    "No worries!" I tell him. "Another time, then!"

    "Oh!" Connor says. "Don''t forget that we''re having a barbecue at my place on Tuesday! It''ll start at, like, ten or ten-thirty or something, and after, we''re all gonna go to the fair. You wanna join us?"

    "Don''t have to be at both to go to one," Sam adds. "So if you want to do the barbecue but not the fair, that''s fine. If you want to do the fair but not the barbecue, that is, too."

    "Um¡­ I''m not sure if Mr. Trey has plans," Xander says.

    "Let us know, okay?" I say, and he nods. "Oh! That''s Mr. Caldwell''s car, right?"

    Xander looks over, then back to us and nods just as Mr. Caldwell pulls up next to us.

    "Bye," Xander says.

    We all wish him a good day, then he gets into the car and we pull on our helmets and get on our bikes to head to Connor''s. It''s a shame he won''t play laser tag with us, but I guess that''s why he wanted to hang out with us this morning. I''m really happy he did, too! It means he really wants to be our friend and hang out with us!

    "Race you to my house!" Connor exclaims as we go down the street. "Last one there''s a rotten egg!"

 Chapter 038

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    I''m still not sure about the eating thing, but Mr. Trey was very clear that I should make as much as I think I''ll eat. He seemed to be upset that I was trying to say that it costs a lot of money to do that, though.

    I understand this even less than I understand socializing. How does me eating as much as my body wants me to make it okay for him to not spend as much money on charity? He tried explaining it to me again, but I don''t really understand the whole "money that I spend on charity is just extra money" thing.

    Since I do feel pretty hungry, I make up a lot of snacks, and I make sure to ask Mr. Trey what he wants, too. He mostly wants popcorn and pretzels with cheese, so I make sure to do extras of those. Once we both have our initial snacks, I sit down in the usual spot for this, with Trenton to my right and Mr. Trey to his right.

    "Do you know what you want to watch?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod as I grab the tablet from the pouch on the back of the seat in front of this one. I''m not sure why the mesh pouch was put there, but it holds the tablet pretty fine. "A documentary on elementals. Um. Is that okay?"

    "I''m fine with watching it if you are," Mr. Trey says. "Is this because of Tuesday?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I don''t really understand the elemental¡­ so maybe this can help me?"

    "I''m curious about them, too," Mr. Trey says. "Go ahead."

    I pull up the app I use to watch the documentaries on, then navigate to the one I''m looking for. There are so many types of elementals that this one is only for the basic four: fire, water, earth, and air.

    As the documentary plays, I learn that people as a whole really don''t understand elementals. Ones of the same type usually have some traits in common apart from being living masses of an element, but they also often have massive differences.

    A common trait of fire elementals is that they like to live in places that are naturally hot, like volcanoes. That one made sense to me even before my brain got fixed. But something that surprises me is that most fire elementals like sweets. It''s not just the one that comes here once a year to get caramels now.

    Does that mean they learned about caramels from another fire elemental?

    "Waitwaitwait!" I say after a shared trait between water elementals is said. "Pause! Pause! There! Paused!"

    "What is it?" Mr. Trey asks. "Bathroom?"

    "No," I look at him. "They just said that water elementals often blast each other in the face in greeting. But I''m not a water elemental? And it''s apparently normal for a water elemental to start drowning someone, but not finish, when they don''t want them nearby. Which means¡­ they weren''t telling me to go away? Just trying to greet me? But I''m not a water elemental, why would they blast me in the face?"

    "Back it up a moment," Mr. Trey says. "In addition to meeting a fire elemental once a year¡­ you''ve interacted with a water elemental?"

    "Well¡­ they blast me in the face when I get near," I tell him. "I just thought they were telling me ''no'' when I was trying to explore some caves. So I stopped trying ''cause I didn''t want to make them mad. I guess they were just greeting me the way they would probably greet other water elementals? But why?"

    Even I wouldn''t mistake someone for being a water elemental, and I''m stupid. A water elemental definitely wouldn''t make that mistake.

    "Where at?" Mr. Trey asks. "I don''t recall any caves being in the area."

    "In the woods," I tell him. "A little bit southeast, I think? There''s a stream that flows off a cliff and into a small lake. Maybe a big pond? It''s not really a big cliff, and it''s more like a group of steps the water flows down. It''s really pretty. But then there''s a bigger cliff, and there''s a cave in it. There are also some big rocks by the pond. Like, some are as big as me. And some are bigger. Some are smaller, too. They''re not all big."

    Now I''m really nervous.

    "Um¡­"

    "Yes?"

    "Would it be okay if I went to the pond and apologized?" I ask. "I really didn''t know they were trying to greet me! And I don''t want them to think I was being mean!"

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments, and that makes me even more nervous.

    "Okay," he says. "I take it you''re wanting to go now?"

    That''s probably bad, isn''t it? The sooner I apologize, the sooner we can probably avoid the elemental getting angrier at me for not greeting them back. It''s been awhile since I was there, so it''s probably been getting madder and madder, hasn''t it?

    "I mean¡­ we can finish the documentary first?"

    "That''s not what I asked."

    Oh, no. I''m getting into trouble! His tone is scary!

    "Yes."

    "Go get ready to go," he tells me. "And if you want to, grab your swim trunks and a towel, too. They may be okay with you swimming so if you want to, you can."

    "It''s really okay?"

    "It is," he says. "Elementals are strange beings, and if I''m being honest here, I would like to meet one. We can finish the documentary later."

    "Okay," I say, then hurry and finish eating the snacks I currently have before taking Trenton up to the bedroom. "I''m going to leave you here, okay? You don''t like getting wet and I''ll probably get blasted in the face if they''re not too mad at me. Or they might soak me because they''re unhappy. Okay?"

    Trenton seems okay with that, so I get ready to go and meet Mr. Trey down in the kitchen, where he''s on the phone with someone. There are snack containers set out on the counter, sort of like the ones he had me take earlier.

    "-barbecue on Tuesday," Mr. Trey is saying when I get close enough to hear. "Hey, it looks like Xander''s ready to go, so I''m going to let you go now. Thanks for the help. You, too. Bye."

    That must have been about his own plans for Interception Day, and whatever they are probably affects me.

    "Here''s some snacks for you," Mr. Trey tells me. "Since it''s going to involve a bit of walking, you''ll probably need refueling a bit. I included some trail mix in there as well, for an easier snack while walking."

    "Trail mix?" I look for which container has that.

    "No chocolate," he tells me. "It''s not pre-mixed. I mixed it myself and it has raisins, nuts, dried banana slices, dried apricot pieces, and butterscotch chips."

    "Oh," I say. "Thank you."

    "Go ahead and put them in your bag."

    As I do that, Mr. Trey frowns, which worries me a little.

    "S-sir?"

    "I just realized something," he says. "But while backpacks do often hold more than they look like they should¡­ Xander, is there magic in your backpack? The amount of stuff you had in it yesterday was more than I expected, and you''ve got a whole towel in there now and it didn''t look like it when the bag was closed."

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ yeah? Enchanting isn''t being a mage, right? It''s just being an enchanter. So Greyson''s taught me some stuff. He tried teaching me how to expand space like he did for his backpack. Only, I''m not so good at it so it''s not too much bigger. And I didn''t get the other enchantments right, so I can''t just reach in and grab whatever I want without looking, I have to use it like a normal backpack for that. And it doesn''t eliminate or lessen the weight, either. But maybe now that my brain''s all fixed up, I could learn to do it better? My backpack''s starting to wear out, too. There are little holes in the bottom, at the corners. So I could probably buy a new one and try enchanting it better. If¡­ if that''s okay? I can buy it with my allowance. I''ve got money saved up."

    "You¡­ can make an enchantment like that?"

    I don''t understand his expression.

    "It''s just a simple one," I say. "And not very well done."

    "Simple?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "It''s only a slight expansion of the space. Greyson''s backpack can hold, like, five griffins in it. And he won''t feel the weight, and he can just pull out whatever he wants after reaching in, regardless of where in the backpack it is. And it''s not like my puzzle spheres, either."

    "Your puzzle spheres?"

    I look through my backpack until I find one of the two in it, then pull it out.

    "This," I show it to him. "It''s probably the only complex set of enchantments I''ve done, and I''m not even sure I did it right. Like¡­ I tried basing the formula for how it changes based on the positions of some celestial bodies like the moon, the sun, a few planets, and a couple of comets, but also on the positioning, shapes, rotations, and stuff of each piece, and on the number of dragons within nine hundred miles. But that''s really complicated and as we both know, I''m not very smart. I¡­ I don''t think I managed to make it work based on the pieces. And how would it even detect dragons? Those are apparently mythical. And then there''s the positions of celestial bodies¡­ how would it detect stuff so far away? But I guess I at least managed to make a puzzle. Greyson''s managed to solve it a couple of times."

    "That''s¡­ impressive."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Like¡­ how could you solve a puzzle made by a dumbass like me? It''s apparently so badly done that it takes him a long time to figure it out, too. I''m not sure what the actual puzzle animal rhythm is-"

    "Algorithm?"

    "Maybe," I say. "I''m not sure what the actual one is, but it''s apparently so bad that it takes a supergenius months to figure out. But at least he likes it enough that he changed their batteries? I''m not sure what I did for a power source when I made them, but it shouldn''t have lasted this long. So he had to have changed the batteries in all of them at some point, probably to something more efficient."

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "If it takes a supergenius months to figure out," he says. "Then it''s probably that it''s complicated."

    "Or broken," I stick the puzzle sphere back into my backpack. "Greyson can be stubborn like that."

    I finish putting the snacks into my backpack, then Mr. Trey and I leave the house.

    "Mr. Trey?" I say as we get in the truck, which he''s picked for some reason.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "S.G. and his friends are asking if they can meet us there," I tell him. "I told them what I learned and that I was gonna go apologize, and they said they wanted to meet an elemental¡­ that seems like a bad idea, but at the same time, I feel like it''s okay? It''s¡­ like my gut is saying ''they can come''. And that''s even though they were going to go laser tag. I told them that they wouldn''t have time for laser tag but they said it''s okay and they can go another day."

    They''re really willing to not go do what they were wanting to do just to visit an elemental?

    "I can''t imagine no one''s ever gone swimming in the pond before," Mr. Trey tells me. "So I don''t think the elemental is malicious. They probably don''t normally show themselves to people, so it''s probably okay for your friends to join us. That may make them shy if there''s something different about you that makes them want to greet you, so they may also not show up."

    "Does that mean I can tell them it''s okay?"

    "Yes," he answers. "Though one of their dads will probably want to come with us, for safety reasons."

    "Safety reasons?"

    "In case someone gets hurt on the walk," he tells me. "Better to have two adults than one."

    "Oh," that makes sense.

    It takes me a few moments, but I figure out how to let S.G. and them know where to meet up, and Mr. Trey has me give him the directions. As Mr. Trey drives, Isaac says that his dad''s going to take them.

    Since I only really remember the path from the boys'' home, I can''t really tell Mr. Trey where to turn until we''re getting close to it. That doesn''t seem to bother him, though, which makes me a little bit happy. It means I''m probably not getting into trouble.

    Rather than stopping where I usually leave the road to start walking, Mr. Trey finds a business to stop at, after checking that it''s okay to leave the car there for a bit. He tells them that we''re going hiking in the woods and¡­ I don''t pay attention to the rest because S.G. and his friends show up then, getting out of Mr. Michaels''s truck.

    "Hi, Xander!" S.G. waves as he approaches; they''ve all got their backpacks again, and even Mr. Michaels has one. "It''s out this way? You used to walk here?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Um¡­ it was usually when I could do things all day and not be in trouble. So I''d leave after breakfast and then get home a little bit after dinner, usually."

    Reaching just this far takes a lot of time when walking, but since we all rode in vehicles, it was a lot faster.

    "If everyone is ready," Mr. Trey says after talking with Mr. Michaels for a few minutes. "Then let''s head out."

    It takes us almost an hour and a half of walking to reach where the water elemental lives, but no one seems bothered by that. S.G. and his friends even take a lot of pictures as we walk. They all have little bags of trail mix, too, though theirs has chocolate in it so I''m glad they don''t offer me some. I don''t want to offer mine because it''s meant for me and I don''t know how long it will last.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Oh!" Sam exclaims as we near the pond. "I can hear the water!"

    "Yeah," I nod. "We''re getting close. It''s¡­ this way. We went off the path a little."

    "There''s a path?" Isaac asks.

    "In my mind."

    "Ah."

    Not long after that, we can see the bigger rocks and the waterfall. Just as the other boys start to shout something, a huge blob of water shoots up out of the pond (which is still out of view) and blasts a huge shot of water at me.

    Even though I was prepared for it, I still yelp a little. The other boys shout and duck behind trees as the water slams into me, making me stumble back a little. A pair of hands firmly grabs me from behind, keeping me from falling. At least he grabbed my sides and not my shoulders, but that''s still scary, too.

    "I don''t think they''re mad," Mr. Trey says as he quickly lets go.

    Now I''m soaked, but I expected that. Mr. Trey startled me a little, though, and I have to take a few moments to calm down the panic.

    "Hi!" I wave to the water elemental as I approach after calming down the panics, and the blob of water does a sort of jiggle as the other boys peek out from behind the trees. "I''m sorry for not greeting you back before! I thought you were telling me to go away!"

    "I would surround your head with water for thirty seconds if that were my intention," their voice enters my head.

    "Whoooaaa," the other boys say in unison and start walking up with me.

    "I only just learned that that''s how water elementals tell people to go away," I tell the elemental. "I didn''t know that blasting with water is a greeting between water elementals. But¡­ I''m not a water elemental, so I''m not sure why you do that to me. Is¡­ is it okay to ask?"

    "It is an acknowledgment."

    I''m not sure what that means, and I''m not sure if it''s okay to ask.

    "Acknowledgment?" S.G. asks. "Of what?"

    "Of him," the elemental answers.

    "What does that mean?" Sam asks.

    "That I am acknowledging him."

    "That is what that means," I whisper to Sam, and the other boys snicker.

    "I can''t imagine some random teens haven''t found this pond before," Mr. Trey says. "But I don''t remember hearing about a water elemental here."

    "Nor have I," Mr. Michaels says.

    "Others come, from time to time," the elemental says. "I do not mind so long as they clean up after themselves."

    "Does that mean we can swim here?" Isaac asks.

    "It does."

    "What are you acknowledging about Xander?" Sam asks.

    Rather than answering, the water elemental shoots out six more blasts of water, striking each of the others in the face. Then, it turns itself into a star shape before dropping back down into the water.

    If I had to guess, the water elemental is acknowledging my apparent skill with magic, since I apparently have been keeping myself alive through it. With my soul apparently stapled to my body.

    Or it''s acknowledging me as being really strong, even though my mana''s mostly tied up in keeping me alive. Or was tied up in doing that, and is now just tied up to continue supporting those spells for awhile.

    "Let''s go swimming!" S.G. exclaims, then pauses and looks at Mr. Trey and Mr. Michaels, cheeks turning a little bit red. "Uh¡­ we didn''t put on swim trunks before coming out ''cause we weren''t sure if the elemental would let us swim and hiking in them for awhile gets a bit uncomfortable.. They''re in our backpacks. We, uh¡­ didn''t expect any dads to come all the way out with us."

    They didn''t expect any dads to come out, and there''s one dad and a foster dad. That''s a big difference.

    "Paul mentioned that you boys sometimes go swimming in ponds and lakes around and outside of town," Mr. Trey says. "Though I''d imagine that it''s usually at one closer than here."

    "Yeah," S.G. nods.

    "You talked to Dad about us going swimming?" Connor asks.

    "While Xander was getting ready," oh, so that was Mr. Thompson he was on the phone with?

    Why were they talking about barbecues? Stupid Xander, it''s not your place to question.

    "I was¡­ asking him for advice," Mr. Trey says. "I wasn''t too sure how to handle this, and he said that you boys often go swimming at ponds and lakes around and outside of town. But I can turn away for you to change."

    "Since we''re not too close to a business or home or something like that," Mr. Michaels says. "That''s why there are two adults here. It''s a bit too far for our comfort."

    "Sort of like when we go hiking when camping," S.G. says. "Except when there''s only one dad on the trip."

    "Right," Mr. Michaels says.

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey looks at me.

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "If you want, I can hold up a towel to block the view of you while you change. I''m assuming you didn''t bring just a towel?"

    "It''s really uncomfortable," I tell him. "But I put on swim trunks before we left. They''re under my pants."

    The others were right about how uncomfortable it is, and I can''t wait to get out of my pants so I''m in just the swim trunks.

    "Oh," he seems surprised. I thought I was supposed to do that? "Okay, then. I''ll be turning around now."

    Mr. Trey and Mr. Michaels don''t just turn away from the pond, but they walk a little bit away as well. The other boys all quickly change into their swim trunks, then run to the pond and jump in. That was so noisy¡­ and they stay noisy.

    After a few minutes, I strip down to my swim trunks, then approach the pond. They''re taking turns jumping off of one of the bigger rocks and into the water.

    My breathing starts to quicken as panic begins to fill my mind as I try to think about how to get into the water and join them.

    "If you''re worried about drowning," the water elemental''s voice enters my head, and I get the feeling the other boys can''t hear it. "Rest assured that I allow none to drown here."

    "Really?" I whisper.

    "I''ve never allowed anyone to drown here," he responds. "Removing water from lungs is a simple matter for me."

    That makes sense. He''s a water elemental, water is his domain.

    "And you do that for anyone who would drown?"

    "Yes."

    "O-okay."

    I''m still really nervous, but hearing from a water elemental that he won''t let me drown is a lot more reassuring than hearing it from Luke or Coach Evan or Mr. Trey or Roderick or Mr. Quinn.

    Should I try to jump in like the other boys? The way they''re shouting and stuff is different from the way that I do¡­ but maybe I can manage it? Especially if the water elemental isn''t going to let me drown.

    I slip a little as I try to climb the rocks, and I pick a smaller one than the one they''re jumping off of. That one''s too high for me. Far too high. Way too high. Can''t do it.

    Once I''m on the rock, I try to go to the edge but find my legs unwilling to let me. This is too much. It''s a bad idea.

    "Have you ever jumped like this?" Sam asks me. He''s up on the other rock while the others are in the water. I shake my head. "Take a deep breath, close your eyes, pinch your nose, and¡­ jump!"

    He jumps straight off the rock and into the water, but he doesn''t pinch his nose. He also doesn''t take a deep breath until he''s in the air.

    Are those directions supposed to be for people who are new at this? Does it make it safer? Okay.

    I take a deep breath, close my eyes, pinch my nose, and¡­ jump! A small squeal comes out of me but not a scream. I make sure to not stop holding my breath, pinching my nose, or keeping my eyes closed. But then I end up staying underwater almost until I run out of air and as panic starts to set in, I push myself up and let go of my nose, taking big, deep breaths as I open my eyes.

    Too much panic. But not too too much. It''s not broken. But I''m in the water.

    Whoa. Was that some sort of non-magic magic? I don''t think it was actual magic.

    "Please give me a little bit," I ask the other boys when they start to approach. "I need to¡­ wait. To wait."

    "So you can swim without floaties now?" Isaac asks. "I just remembered, but you were using floaties last time."

    "I could swim without floaties," I tell him. "But not like a fish. I was told that that should be by the end of the summer. The floaties were so I don''t drown."

    "But if you could swim, why would you drown?" Isaac asks. "And we were all there, too! We would make sure you wouldn''t!"

    I wasn''t looking in his eyes so I don''t know if that''s the truth or not, but I really need to wait more because my panic''s still here.

    "Drowning is scary."

    "Drowning is-" Isaac starts to ask something.

    "Are you scared of drowning?" Connor asks, and I nod. "Ooooh. No worries! We won''t let you drown! And if you go, like, three feet that way, your feet can touch the ground and your head will be above the water!"

    They can? I go three feet over and when I straighten my body, find that my feet really do touch the bottom of the pond, and the water only goes up to almost my shoulders there. That''s a little bit better. It''s a big depth difference, too, since my feet weren''t touching the bottom to keep my chin above the water just three feet away.

    S.G. and the others go back to playing and once I think my panic''s calmed down enough, I try to join them. It''s a little bit of tag, but they also wrestle with each other and try to dunk each other. A lot of the play involves coming up behind the other boys and touching their backs and shoulders (usually grabbing and sometimes trying to dunk each other), but I don''t like that. I do try to not say anything, though, because I really want to play with them.

    Then Sam forgets for a moment that I don''t want to drown and starts to dunk me. He apologizes after, but I still get out of the water. My panic is back too much and I need a break.

    "Xander?" Sam gets out of the water, too. "I really am sorry. I forgot."

    "I know," I tell him. "I just need a break. I might be fine after that. You can keep playing. Don''t explode."

    "I-wait¡­ ''don''t explode''?"

    "Yeah."

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Sam?"

    "Why would I explode?"

    "Because¡­ wait. You''re not the dork."

    Why did I say "don''t explode" as if I''m hanging out with the dork? Greyson usually needs a reminder when he plays with certain things. Or in general. We went bug-catching in April and he still found a way to make explosions.

    "I''m really not upset," I tell Sam. "I just need to let the panic calm down. Then I can try again. I know you didn''t mean to."

    Sam doesn''t look happy to me, but he goes back into the water. I guess just me getting panicked upset him?

    "Xander," Mr. Trey sits down next to me after I take a seat a little bit away from the water. He''s been talking with Mr. Michaels while we played, though Mr. Michaels is staying where they were talking rather than coming over. "I''m very proud of you."

    "What did I do?" I ask. "I didn''t do anything good, did I?"

    "You tried to brave one of your fears," he tells me. "And even admitted it to the other boys, which made it easier for them to try to not trigger it. I know you don''t like being touched from behind, so you not freaking out when they did was also good. It was evident you were panicking, but you managed to calm yourself down. And when you realized you needed a break, you took one. You also didn''t blow up on Sam for trying to dunk you, which was also good."

    "But isn''t that how it''s supposed to be?"

    "And what''s normal for you?" Mr. Trey asks. "You usually freak out and panic. So the fact that you were able to not do so is a good thing."

    "Oh."

    "You''re pretty comfortable with them, aren''t you?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "A little bit," I nod. "They''ve always seemed nice at the bowling alley¡­ and they seem really nice now that we''re talking and doing stuff together. And like¡­ they try to be careful. And apologize when they get too much for me or do something that makes me panic, like Sam did."

    Which is really weird. That''s not normal, is it?

    "They''re good kids," Mr. Trey says. "The dad group is raising them well. They''re a little rowdy, but they also try to respect others and their surroundings."

    Should I ask what that word means?

    "A group is rowdy if they''re noisy and a little rough," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "Oh," I think for a moment. "They''re noisy and a little rough."

    Like right now. They''re dunking each other again while shouting.

    Um¡­

    "M-Mr. Trey?"

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "A-are you reading my mind?"

    "No," he chuckles. "Whenever you don''t know what a word means, your brow furrows and you look down, just a little. Like right now. Furrowed brows is¡­ it''s when your eyebrows go toward each other and down."

    Mr. Trey demonstrates it¡­ that''s one of the looks he gets sometimes.

    "That doesn''t mean you''re mad?" I ask.

    "No," he chuckles again. "It can mean someone''s mad with other expressions, but not always. It can also be something people do when they''re trying to figure something out. When you''re confused by something or trying to figure something out, you do it just a little bit, and you look downward. It''s not easy to notice if you don''t already know the sign, as your face doesn''t change too much, but I''ve learned to notice."

    "Oh."

    There''s quiet between us for a few moments, but the other boys are still really noisy.

    "Do you want one of your snacks?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Um¡­ but then the other boys would see," I tell him. "Do I share if they ask? Or should I go away a little?"

    "The snacks are meant for you," Mr. Trey tells me. "You can share if you want, but they''re for if you need or want something to eat. Paul promised he''d let the boys know not to ask, and Mr. Michaels assured me that he''s made sure they know, too."

    It''s really all for me? I don''t have to share? That''s good. It means I''ve got food if Mr. Trey doesn''t feed me. That''s good. That''s very good.

    Why was he telling Mr. Thompson about the snacks, though?

    I do want something to eat, so I move a little bit away from the pond so the other boys can''t see me getting some food. I have to quickly stuff the containers back into my backpack, though, because the other boys get out of the pond and approach after I get a few bites in.

    "Want to go check out the cave?" Connor asks.

    "Yeah," I stand, then look at Mr. Trey. "Um¡­"

    "Go ahead," Mr. Trey tells me after a brief look at Mr. Michaels. "But be careful, okay?"

    "Okay," I nod.

    "That goes for all of you," Mr. Trey says. "Don''t do anything risky and be mindful of your surroundings. If something looks unsteady, don''t try to knock it or anything."

    "Yes, sir!" The others all salute to him.

    "Come on, Xander!" S.G. says as they all start to walk off.

    "Um¡­"

    "Yes?" They look at me.

    "It''s that way," I point in a different direction from where they were going.

    They giggle, then let me lead them to the caves. I brought a flashlight and they all brought some, too, but we forgot to bring them, so we return to the pond to retrieve them from our backpacks. Then we go to the caves.

    The caves turn out to be a lot more boring than I expected, just a few small caves connected by a few tunnels. It''s fun to explore, but kind of boring. S.G., Connor, Sam, and Isaac are having a lot more fun, though, and are even making their voices echo.

    I cover my ears for that, but it''s still pretty cool.

    Once we''re done exploring the caves, we return to the pond to swim in more. They don''t try and dunk me this time, and it''s mostly just things like them seeing who can hold their breath underwater the longest with me judging, or us playing a closed-eyed tag. I''m¡­ not really happy with that last one, but I do my best to try it.

    "Alright, boys," Mr. Trey says after a bit. "It''s time to get heading back if you want to be out of the woods before dark."

    I get out of the water as the others complain, but Mr. Trey and Mr. Michaels are firm on it being time to go so they all get out. We dry off and the adults turn around and walk off a bit so the other boys can get changed out of their swim trunks and into their clothes. Once he finishes, S.G. offers to hold up a towel to block me so I can do that if I want.

    Once we''re all dressed, we pull on our backpacks and I lead everyone back to the place where we met up at. By the time we reach there, the sun''s starting to set, but hasn''t quite set yet.

    "I''m going to take the boys to get something to eat," Mr. Michaels tells Mr. Trey as we walk up to the trucks. "Do you two want to come with us?"

    "Xander looks like he''s ready to fall asleep," Mr. Trey tells him. "So unless he wants to go, we''ll head home and get something to eat there."

    "Xander!" S.G. exclaims, and I look at him. "Mr. Michaels is gonna take us all out for dinner! Wanna come with us?"

    "Yes," I answer. "But I don''t think I can handle that much more today. I just realized that I''m swaying a little. Sorry."

    "No worries!" He says. "Have a good night!"

    "Have a good night," I tell him and the others. "Bye."

    Mr. Trey and I get into his truck, and he pulls out of the parking lot.

    "You can sleep on the way home if you want," Mr. Trey says. "It''s been a pretty busy day for you."

    "Okay," I open up my backpack first.

    It''s better to get a snack before sleep because I''m hungry again and I don''t know how long it''ll be until dinner.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "I feel really bad," Sam says on the ride to the restaurant.

    "How come?" Isaac asks before I can.

    "''Cause I freaked Xander out," Sam answers. "He kept flinching anytime I came near him after, too."

    Oh. He''s upset about that. Yeah, I guess I can understand it. Xander was avoiding being too close to him after, probably worried about getting dunked again.

    "Keep in mind that Xander''s a little different from you boys," Mr. Michaels says. "The way his mind works isn''t the same, and on top of that, there''s past experiences that affect him. He did tell you that he was okay, though, and he was trying. Yes, you did startle him, but he knows it wasn''t on purpose. It''s just going to take him time to be comfortable with you again. Don''t try to force it, though. Just keep being the way you''ve always been and I''m sure Xander won''t try to avoid being too close in no time."

    "But being me is what made him uncomfortable!" Sam cries out.

    "He got back in the pond again, didn''t he?" Mr. Michaels asks. "And he still splashed at you some. He''s likely just a little bit wary of you trying to dunk him again. All he probably needs is just a couple of swim sessions where you don''t, and he''ll be okay. He was still fine with hanging out, wasn''t he?"

    "I guess," Sam''s quiet.

    I know that I''d be upset with myself if I were the one who did that, too, and would need cheering up. There''s not much I can think of to do in the car to help, though, which makes me feel bad, and Connor''s looking kind of unhappy, too. Isaac, too, though he''s in the front seat.

    "Do you boys want burgers and shakes for dinner?" Mr. Michaels comes to the rescue. "It''s getting late, but I don''t think having some extra sugar will be a problem."

    "Can we go to the shake place?" Connor bounces in his seat. "That one we went to last month? I can''t remember its name, but it had the big flower-on-a-cow logo!"

    "Oh, yeah!" I exclaim. "That place is awesome! Please?"

    "Does that sound good to everyone?" Mr. Michaels asks.

    "Yeah!" Isaac answers.

    "I guess," Sam still seems down.

    "Alright," Mr. Michaels says. "We''ll go there, and if you boys are hungry enough, you can get two milkshakes each."

    "Yeah! Two milkshakes!" I exclaim.

 Chapter 039

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years] ¡ú starts during Xander''s PoV

    If I alter this runic setup just a tiny bit by shifting these three lines just this much¡­ that should increase the power output without affecting anything else, apart from the energy cost. As a test, I activate it and examine the barrier on the laser car. No, that was wrong. The barrier is stronger, but it''s drawing too much energy from the battery.

    Should I switch the formula to be a direct casting? I won''t have need of a battery if I do that, but it''ll cost more mana. Without the battery, I can add in another mana source, though, so it won''t be too much of a problem.

    At least it''s a magitech battery that it uses and not a scientech battery. The energy put out is completely different and trying to get enchantments to run off of that is a nightmare.

    Not that it''s stopped me from trying¡­ but it''s pointless.

    Maybe if I changed this rune to¡­ yeah, let''s go with that. Okay. Now I need to adjust this line¡­ and that one needs to be slightly more curved. This one should be moved over about an eighth of an inch and reconnected. Okay, let''s try it now.

    The energy draw is lighter, but still not light enough to make me happy. I want the laser cars to last longer, which they can''t do if making the barrier 1.4 times as strong increases the energy draw by too much. A balance needs to be struck between having a barrier that can hold out longer and how much energy it requires to keep the enchantment active.

    Though it seems I need to put this on hold for a minute, so I turn off the barrier and turn to face Grandfather Adrian, who''s been spending most of the day examining things, explaining stuff to Cal and Dad, or debating with Cal and Dad. Those two are currently quietly discussing something near the sleeping room.

    "Your dad has reluctantly agreed to let you keep coming here," Grandfather Adrian tells me as he conjures a chair to sit on. "After reviewing the full contract that you''ve agreed to and having a few more things explained to him, that is. He''s agreed that it''s better to have oversight on your experiments and creations than to have you keep sneaking off to do it."

    "Acceptable," I say. "I would continue regardless of his wishes. My projects are for the future of humanity and must not be stopped. They are going to change the world."

    "That, they are," he indicates a piece of scrap metal on the table. "Can I pick that up?"

    At least he asks first. Cal and Dad do, but they didn''t always. Henry still doesn''t.

    "You may."

    Grandfather Adrian picks it up and examines it.

    "Do you know what this is?"

    "Greysonian orichalcum."

    "You named it after yourself?"

    "Xander calls it that," I tell him. "Well, he calls it ''Greysonian orca'', but he''s not good with bigger words and usually mishears them. I''ve attempted to explain that it''s ''orichal'', not ''orca'', but he''s stuck on killer whales. And the last bit of it is something he has an aversion to saying, so I think that factors in, too. It''s an alloy I made in order to be more receptive to mana flows while still maintaining durability and resisting outside influence on the spell matrices within them. I wanted a stronger version of it, but the fire elemental I asked declined to help me craft it."

    "The one you attempted to put into a box?"

    "It would be easier to smelt things that way."

    Grandfather Adrian sighs.

    "I''ve managed to acquire a few pieces of this from various items you''ve used and left around," he holds up the piece of scrap. "This would be very useful in some types of magitech."

    "The whole point of it was to make a material that''s better for certain types of magitech," I tell him. "Mainly ones which run without mana being converted to a power source but rather, where it is the power source."

    "Is that what led you to inventing it?" Grandfather Adrian asks. "Needing it for your mega computer?"

    "That currently runs on both," I say. "Mana converted into the magitech energy we use in order to run the functions, while mana itself is used to fuel them. Unless I can find an infinite fuel source which can produce high amounts of mana at a rapid rate, that will not be able to run on mana alone. As it currently functions, it needs roughly as much mana produced every day as a tenth of what I can hold, and that''s with an energy source."

    "A tenth of what you can hold, and in a day?"

    "Approximately 9.713% much as I can hold," I nod. "And it''s not complete, either. How much it needs per day will only increase as I work on the project, even as I optimize its enchantment matrices and reduce the costs. Fortunately, it doesn''t need that much power for that side of things, so power cores are sufficient for now, especially since I don''t have it running at all times. Ah. The mana cost I stated is how much it would cost if it were on nonstop when being utilized for its intended purpose."

    "I see," Grandfather Adrian examines the laser car I was attempting to upgrade. "Did you make the alloy for your remote-controlled cars? The small pieces of scrap I''ve found were usually in places where you''d used them to grab something you didn''t want to try and grab yourself and got damaged by a monster."

    "Nah," I say. "I developed it when Xander was trying to make the puzzle sphere. He''s not good with enchanting and doesn''t like having to put in two separate power sources ¨C a mana battery and either a scientech battery or a converter to make mana into magitech energy ¨C and so needed a metal that would work for the sphere with just mana running the whole thing."

    "Let me get this straight," Grandfather Adrian holds up the piece of scrap again. "You invented an alloy that has uses in military satellites, military-grade weaponry, enchanted machines, generators, magitech power plants, and more¡­ so that someone could make a puzzle?"

    "And how were sticky notes invented?"

    "That''s not the same thing," Grandfather Adrian says. "Though I suppose I can understand your reasoning for inventing it. It''s not as if I haven''t done similar things."

    He sets the piece of scrap metal back onto the table.

    "I''m not sure how much you were noticing while you were¡­ in your lower mode earlier," he says. "So I wanted to apologize again about grabbing your ear. It''s common at my house to pinch the ear of a kid who''s trying to run off and I did it out of habit. I do know that some people with Autism don''t react well to being touched in certain areas, usually the ears, neck, back of their head, shoulders, and/or back. I''ll keep that in mind for the future, okay?"

    At least he''s apologizing for it.

    "Okay."

    "If I weren''t blocking your teleportation," he says. "Where would you have gone instead of your closet?"

    "Here," I answer. "Its a safe place. And full of magitech. So I can do magitech. But I don''t really know what I think during that. My mind doesn''t¡­ register things properly when I''m in my need-calm mode. The last time it happened, I apparently built an unmanned rocket to Mars."

    "And where is this rocket now?" Grandfather Adrian seems a bit concerned.

    "On Mars," I answer. "Fortunately, its cloaking magitech keeps it from being noticed by the rovers. I''m not sure how to get it back¡­ but I''ll eventually find a way. Once I can finish sorting through those memories, I might be able to figure out how it was built."

    "What does this rocket do?"

    "It doesn''t have any extras," I tell him. "I was being very stupid. At the very least, it should have been designed to start terraforming work."

    "You''re ten, Greyson¡­ it''s okay to not think about things."

    "I built an unmanned rocket to Mars, I should be thinking about things."

    Grandfather Adrian snorts, but then turns serious again.

    "Greyson," he says. "The way you reacted when I touched your ear earlier¡­ there was something different than other times I''ve seen an Autistic get triggered by a touch for one of those areas. More in your mind. It wasn''t just the touch, but¡­ did something happen to your ears? Your reaction seemed like it''s a trauma-based aversion rather than a normal Autistic aversion."

    "Um¡­" I find myself wiggling a little and stop. "Know how Mom and my step-dad abandoned us in January of 2019?"

    "I do."

    "Well¡­ it''s my fault," I tell him. "That''s why I''ve got to make sure we stay together and are taken care of."

    It''s my responsibility because it''s my fault.

    "And how is it your fault?"

    "Mom and our step-dad¡­" I find myself shifting a bit as my breathing quickens, but I can''t stop the second one despite my best efforts. "They¡­ they said I didn''t use my ears, so I didn''t need them, and¡­ and my step-dad¡­ he held me down and-and Mom got a knife-and-and-then they regrew and-and-and they-they freaked out and they-they abandoned us because it freaked them out and it''s all my fault for having really good healing and now my brothers and me are all alone and it''s my job to keep us together and-"

    Grandfather Adrian pulls me off of my chair and onto his lap, and I curl up and press my head against him. I don''t want to cry but my body''s making me, and it''s shaking a lot, and¡­ and my ears are here but they were cut off and I don''t want them to ever be cut off again! My grandfather holds me tightly and gently rubs my back and it feels good, like I''m safe. I want to be safe. I want to be very safe.

    "What''s wrong?" I can hear Cal asking once my sobs turn to sniffles.

    "Greyson just told me about why he gets triggered when his ears are touched," Grandfather Adrian says. "Autistics don''t always have a reason for it, it''s simply how they are. But Greyson''s stems from trauma. Are you aware that your mother and step-dad cut off his ears?"

    "They did what?" Cal sounds angry, and I can feel the rage in him upon hearing that.

    It''s not as fierce as Grandfather Adrian''s rage, though. If I could feel only my own mind, I would right now because of how fierce his rage is. But at least I know he''s mad about it, too.

    "His ears regrowing are apparently the reason they abandoned the four of you," Grandfather Adrian says. "You can be sure that I''ll be handling them now. Personally."

    That feels very threatening. I''m glad it''s not aimed at me.

    "You said they''re in Vegas?" Grandfather Adrian asks.

    "Yeah," I sniffle, my head still buried against his chest.

    "Do you know where they are, specifically?"

    I pull my head away from him and turn around as I summon my laptop and move back to my chair. After a few minutes of looking-

    "Is he hacking?" Cal asks.

    "Yes," Grandfather Adrian answers.

    -I locate the specific hotel my mom and step-dad are staying at and show it to my grandfather.

    "Thank you, Greyson," Grandfather Adrian answers. "Now¡­ please stop hacking. And don''t cancel their hotel room, that''ll give me more work in dealing with them."

    "Fine!"

    "Couldn''t you do the trick you used to show me relations to find them?" Dad asks. "The drops of blood thing?"

    Grandfather Adrian used a blood-based tracking spell? I''m guessing that he demonstrated it to Dad and Papa as part of trying to prove that he''s related to us while I was in my need-calm mode.

    "Wouldn''t that have shown something when I did it?" Cal asks.

    Cal did the spell, too? I guess Grandfather Adrian taught it to him so that he could also use it and reveal all blood relatives nearby.

    "It has a limited range," I say. "And that range is smaller for descendants than siblings, and further smaller for those who are neither. Part of that range is affected by how powerful you are. As a person with a more normal level of mana-"

    "He has twelve times as much as a ''normal'' person," Grandfather Adrian says.

    "A more normal level of mana for a Lumarikang," I clarify as I summon my puzzle sphere to work on solving it some more as we talk. "Your range would cover about all of Lakeview from our house, maybe a little bit into Dragon Falls. That''s for just siblings and descendants."

    "I limited the range of my spell when I did it," Grandfather Adrian says. "There are two more of my descendants in the area ¨C in Lakeview, even. Matt and Adam King. I''m not sure if you know Adam, but you might know Matt as he''s just starting high school this coming school year, so was only a year above Travis."

    "I''ve not met him," Cal says. "But I do know of him. He plays guitar at the park sometimes, and posts videos of him and his friends doing stuff online. Kind of popular. He and Adam are related to use? Cousins?"

    "Seconds-cousins," I correct. "Their dad was cousins with ours. They''re from the main branch rather than a side branch like ours."

    "And¡­ what''s a Lumarikang?" Cal asks.

    "That''s Greyson not using the current name for our family," Grandfather Adrian snorts. "He apparently found out that that was my last name. My accent back when I met others here made it sound like ''King'' rather than ''Kang'' and ''Lumari'' eventually became ''Lumaria'' after the name became split in half. We haven''t been the Lumarikangs in a very long time, however. None of my legal paperwork contains the name, either. I''m surprised you learned it, Greyson."

    "I was researching whether or not you were a safe person to be around," I tell him. "That was before I learned you could erase Earth from the solar system if you wanted."

    "Let''s keep things grounded in reality and not your dreams," Dad finally speaks.

    "He''s not actually wrong," Grandfather Adrian tells Dad. "Greyson himself could obliterate half of North America if he wanted to and was at full mana. ''Obliterate'' as in it would cease to be at all, with the ocean eventually filling in what used to be part of the continent."

    "I haven''t actually learned that yet," I tell Dad. "I can do cross-continent teleportation, but that''s much different than a cross-continent blast or erasure."

    "And I would stop him," Grandfather Adrian says.

    "I haven''t had reason to learn something like that," I add.

    "I hope you never decide to," Cal says.

    "On another subject," Grandfather Adrian has apparently decided we should drop the topic. "Can you guys tell me a bit about this Xander kid? Since he seems to be the one I''m going to be researching after the holiday, anyway?"

    "A sweet boy," Cal says. "An orphan who''s been coming to the restaurant for years, though we didn''t learn his name until last year, when he came in after school on his birthday and still had his ID on. Always polite."

    "He never said much," Dad tells Grandfather Adrian. "And always ordered the same thing, then left and ate it in our parking lot. We weren''t sure what was going on, but he''d also been quite timid and seemed okay, so we didn''t pry. Only recently learned his history, of being an orphan who''d been abused in a previous home. Trey ¨C his current foster-dad ¨C is a good man."

    "Xander''s sick?" Cal asks. "And they can really only get treatment from you?"

    "No," I answer. "Xander''s not sick."

    "It''s something else," Grandfather Adrian says. "But yes, it''s something which only I can help with. Depending on the situation, I may take the hit myself rather than requiring payment."

    "Xander was in a car accident when he was four," I say. "It resulted in severe brain damage. As the god he is, however, he simply created a magic brain to take the place of his real one in order to continue living. I was not aware that he did so subconsciously and so after we met and I saw this, I did not mention it to him."

    "Considering your apparent interest in medical-related stuff," Grandfather Adrian looks over to the shelves of medical books. "Both mundane and magical¡­ I take it you healed his brain with your magic after discovering this? Or will, the next time you see him? Trey reached out to me after a doctor''s visit on Friday."

    This bit gets tricky, but Grandfather Adrian will discover things anyway as I can''t actually stop him when he''s personally doing something.

    "There was no need for that," I tell him. "Xander''s dad was Matt''s dad''s twin. He''s a Lumarikang. After he learned about the spells yesterday and I learned he was casting them subconsciously, I gave him one of my mana potions so that his natural regeneration would kick in. His brain is all healed up, though my calculations were incorrect."

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    "What calculations?" Dad asks.

    "I estimated it would take seconds for his brain to heal," I say. "He''s a reincarnated god, after all, even if an evil god messed with his mind and reincarnation so that he doesn''t remember the truth and believes himself to be a mortal like we. It took his brain approximately two and a half hours. The probability is high that his regeneration simply needed to wake up, after being inactive for eight years."

    "Even I would not be able to heal from that in seconds," Grandfather Adrian says. "I take it Xander is the friend you look up to?"

    "He is a god."

    "When we meet, I will thank him for asking you to acquire power cores through legitimate methods."

    Cal looks like he''s trying not to laugh for some reason, and I can feel the amusement in his mind. What is funny about that? Grandfather Adrian was being serious.

    "Please be careful when approaching him," I tell Grandfather Adrian. "Xander is very¡­ sensitive. The evil god messed with his head too much and he doesn''t believe he''s worth higher things. Just knowing he''s a Lumarikang is no doubt making him full of anxiety and fear. He''s fearful of people attempting to milk him for money and I have no doubt that he has not told his new dad."

    Trey is a good person, so I''m certain he won''t try to make money off of Xander. So certain, in fact, that it''s 100% certainty, which is extremely high for me.

    "Greyson?" Grandfather Adrian looks at the puzzle sphere. "Can I ask how that''s powered?"

    It appears the topic of Xander''s state is being shelved.

    "This?" I examine the puzzle sphere a little, then shrug. "I dunno. Purely through mana flow, though, rather than mana converted into the magitech energy. He must have optimized the formula pretty well, since I haven''t needed to change the battery. The battery must also be able to contain an immense amount of mana. I''ve been meaning to ask him about how he created it, as I''m sure it would work better for my cars than what I currently have."

    "Can''t you guys use your magesight and see it?" Dad asks. "Or does it not work that way?"

    "Xander obfuscated the enchantments," I explain. "He does that to basically all magitech items he tinkers with in his station, which makes it difficult to reverse-engineer at a glance and I''ve never tried. The obfuscation also shields the mana battery. Before you ask, obfuscating also makes it difficult to alter the enchantments, so it''s a last step. That''s why I haven''t done it to my mega computer and instead, put a mana wall around. If the inspections are finished, can we please remove all non-authorized personnel from the premises?"

    Based on the way this conversation has gone, there is no need for Cal or Dad to continue to be here.

    "Greyson¡­" Dad says with a slight warning note to his voice.

    "It''s past dinnertime," Grandfather Adrian says. "And while I could teleport to get something for us as I did with lunch, it might be better if we all went to get something to eat."

    "If you''re paying, can we do steak?" I ask.

    "Greyson!" Dad exclaims.

    "Anyone else in the mood for steak?" Grandfather Adrian chuckles.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Welcome home," Aunt Rachel says I come in the back door.

    "Thanks!" I set down my helmet and give her a hug and she returns it. "I need a shower, though, so-"

    "Hold on," she says. "I want to talk with you for a minute, Sig."

    "But I just got hoooooooooome!"

    "I know," she ruffles my hair, then pats me on the back of my head before releasing me. It probably would have been my back, except I''m still wearing my backpack. "You''ll probably want to go to bed after, though, considering you''ve been out playing all day. It''s just a couple of quick things."

    "Well, maybe some video games before bed," I tell her. "But definitely a shower before that."

    "Uh-huh," she looks doubtful about the video games. "Sig, I know your parents let you do basically anything you want as long as you don''t get into trouble."

    "Well, yeah," I grab a glass from the cups cabinet and fill it with water. "It''s not like I''m getting arrested or needing to go to the hospital."

    "I know, sweetie," she says as I take a long drink of the water. "I want you to listen to what I say and try to understand it, okay?"

    I finish my long drink before responding.

    "Oookay?"

    "While it can usually be assumed that you''re with one of the other boys," she says. "And one of their dads usually knows what the group is up to¡­ when I''m staying here or when I''m watching you, could you tell me where you''re going, with whom you''ll be with, and what time you''re expecting to be home? I''m not asking for a step-by-step of your day, but if I''m taking care of you, I need to know this stuff."

    Argh! This again!

    "But Mom and Dad-"

    "Hold on," she ruffles my hair again. "Sig, if I know where you are, it gives me peace of mind about your safety. I can''t help but worry when you vanish and we don''t know where you are."

    It stresses her out? But why?Nothing ever happens and at least one of the dads usually knows where we all are.

    "But the dads-"

    "Sig," she says. "This is just for when I''m taking care of you or staying here. I''d like it more often than that, but I''m not your parents. When I''m here and you''re suddenly gone and I don''t know where you are, it makes me start wondering what happened to you, if you''re okay, if you''ve been in a car accident."

    This is annoying, but I really don''t want to fight with her and if it''s only for when she''s staying with us, then I guess I can do it. I don''t get how it changes anything, though.

    "If it''s only for when I''m staying with you¡­"

    "Thanks," she ruffles my hair again. "By the way, I was called earlier and can move into the new house tomorrow."

    "Wait, really?" That''s exciting news!

    "Yes," she smiles.

    "Do you need help moving in?"

    "Of course," she ruffles my hair again. "And the dads are asking the other boys now if they want to help this week. I''ll be paying all of you for it. Tomorrow, one of Paul''s coworkers is going to let us use his truck. Tom has work and doesn''t like others driving it."

    Mr. Michaels has never liked anyone else driving his truck.

    "Cool!" I say.

    "Once I move out," she tells me. "Can you still let me know if you''re leaving town for something? I''m aware that at least one of the dads usually knows this sort of stuff, but it''s for my own peace of mind."

    She really won''t quit¡­

    "Fiiiine," I groan.

    "I''m just worried about you," she gives me a tight hug. "You told me before seven this morning that you were going to the park and that was the last I heard from you. Only because the dads let me know you were hanging out at Connor''s after did I stop worrying. And Paul called to ask me about you going to the pond with them."

    "He did?" I ask.

    "Yes," she gives me another tight squeeze. "He let me know that you boys explore the woods and go swimming and such fairly often, and they always made sure all three of the dads know. While he knew your parents don''t care what you do as long as you don''t get into trouble or need medical attention, he felt I should at least know.

    "Part of today''s letting me know," she adds. "Was asking permission, too. Trey is still fairly unknown to them, so they aren''t sure how much they can trust him. They were only comfortable with their sons going because Tom was going to be there, but they wanted to get permission for you. Since they knew your parents wouldn''t care, they asked me."

    "You don''t even know Mr. Caldwell," I say. "You gave permission?"

    I''m really annoyed that they asked my aunt for permission when they know my parents don''t care.

    "Only because Tom would be there," she says. "And Paul assured me he knows Xander''s case worker and that she wouldn''t have placed him with Trey if she didn''t trust the man. Also that she''d assured him they''d done extensive research into him before even considering allowing him to take in Xander."

    Oh. Mr. Thompson did tell us about Xander''s case worker making sure his new home was safe for him, to explain why they were as comfortable with him as they are. They aren''t completely comfortable with him, but Mr. Michaels was there as well.

    "He''s really cool," I nod. "And when we all got to the pond and the water elemental told us that we could go swimming there, he even turned and walked away so we could change into our swim trunks! Though Xander was kind of staring him down, too¡­ I think he wanted to make sure Mr. Caldwell didn''t peek?"

    That was pretty funny and we were all giggling a little at it. We were talking with Mr. Michaels on the way to the restaurant, and we don''t think Xander even knows he was staring down his dad. Mr. Michaels told us that Mr. Caldwell mentioned while they were talking that he could feel Xander''s gaze on him.

    "If Paul told me that he had even the slightest hesitation," Aunt Rachel squeezes me a little. "I would''ve said ''no'', and he would''ve nixed the whole group going so that you weren''t left out. Only Isaac''s dad was available for the full afternoon, so they couldn''t have two of them."

    Mr. Thompson would''ve listened to my aunt even though my parents were fine with it? That''s weird. Also really annoying.

    "I''m glad you said yes," I tell her. "Mr. Caldwell''s a really cool dad. He keeps asking the other dads for advice about Xander, too. Like, Mr. Thompson told us before we left not to even mention the snacks that we might see Xander eating. We were really confused about that and asked.

    "Apparently," I let go of her and step back once she lets go of me. "And we''re not supposed to mention to Xander that we know, but apparently, he''s really insecure about when he''ll get to eat again and what he''ll get to eat. Mr. Caldwell was asking Mr. Thompson about how to handle that, and Mr. Thompson said that making sure Xander had food to eat at any time, even when they''re out, would help with that. Food that he could just grab and eat if he got hungry or felt like wanting to eat.

    "He said he told us this so that we''d know why we shouldn''t ask Xander to share his snacks," I grab my glass and refill it. "Because Xander might feel pressured to share them since he wants to hang out with us and is worried that saying no would make us mad at him. It wouldn''t, but he''s got a lot of anxiety. So anyway, if he feels like he has to share the food, then it won''t be his food anymore. And that would just go back into him feeling uncertain about having food."

    I''m really glad that the dads explain why we shouldn''t do stuff rather than just saying "don''t do it". It was really tempting to ask Xander for some of his snacks when we saw them. I''m glad Mr. Michaels made sure we all had trail mix for the walks, too. That probably helped a little.

    "That''s good of Trey to do," Aunt Rachel tells me. "Now for something else¡­"

    "This doesn''t sound good¡­"

    "Not for you," she gives me a reassuring smile. "I was already planning on moving down here, but the reason I showed up the day I did was directly related to what you were told that day."

    "Huh?"

    "After you told Paul about your parents extending their surprise vacation," she tells me. "He called me and let me know. The four of you are like sons to each of the dads, so you spending the night at his place several nights in a row isn''t a problem and he''d have been fine with you staying there until your parents returned.

    "However," she continues. "With the vacation being extended, he felt it best if you had a responsible family member here as well, just in case. I already had most of my stuff in storage, so I packed the rest of my things and drove here. For the week before that, he''d been giving me regular updates on how you were doing."

    Aunt Rachel came here because she was worried about me?

    "Really?" I ask.

    "Really," she answers. "And now I''m getting a house here, if your parents take a vacation without you again, you''re more than welcome to stay with me. In fact, I''d much prefer it if you did. It will make me feel better knowing that you''re safe and taken care of, especially being so close to you now."

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ that''s probably gonna happen this weekend. They almost always go for a week-long vacation to Niagara Falls the weekend after Interception Day."

    "Is that something you''re interested in doing?"

    "Too commercialized," I tell her. "It''s cooler when the place is relatively untouched by people. When you can just get away from all of society and hang out, like at the pond earlier. All of the crowds and stuff just makes it unfun."

    The place isn''t built up a lot or anything, there are just to many people on what ferry tours and stuff they have for my liking. So it still looks relatively natural, it''s just¡­ full of tourists.

    "Okay," she says. "Have your parents mentioned a trip to you?"

    "Nah," I answer. "They know I don''t care for it. So you were already gonna move down here?"

    Okay, that''s a little bit of a topic change, but it was already planned? It''s not just because Mr. Thompson told her my parents left me alone again? I didn''t even know he was telling her stuff like that, and it makes me wonder why.

    It''s doubtful she''d tell me why, though. "Adult stuff" or something like that.

    "My original arrival date was going to beyesterday," she chuckles. "Packing had taken less time than I expected it to since the furniture was part of the rental, so I didn''t have much left. You and your parents are the only family I have and I did want to be closer, especially since I like you. The houses we''d looked at together were ones I''d already checked out online before coming down here."

    "Really?" I ask.

    "Really," she says.

    "Cool," I say. "How come Mr. Thompson was telling you about me?"

    It doesn''t hurt to try!

    "Don''t worry about that," she softly smiles. "Why don''t you go take your shower now?"

    I knew she wouldn''t tell me. That kind of upsets me, but there''s nothing I can do about it. Darn.

    "Alright!" I say. "But first¡­ where are Mom and Dad? I just realized but they aren''t here. They''re normally watching TV right now."

    "They went out and won''t be home until later," she tells me.

    "Oh," I say. "Okay. Gonna go take a shower now!"

    I finish my water and put the glass in the dishwasher, then grab my helmet and head to my room to drop it and my backpack off. My shower is quick and I realize as I go to play on my computer that I''m too tired for it, so I use a hairdryer to finish drying my hair quickly, then wish Aunt Rachel a goodnight and head to bed.

    Today was an awesome day, and I''m happy I got to hang out with everyone and meet a water elemental. Hopefully, the rest of summer vacation is this cool.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    Adjusting that didn''t change anything? The hell? I tried shifting an entire portion of the setup to a different spot, but nothing worked. Even the metal I used today was different, in order to account for potential interference caused by it that I wasn''t noticing.

    That doesn''t seem to be-huh?

    I lean back in my chair and let my head hang over the top of its back so that I can watch the door to my workshop. My neck starts to get cramped in this position after a minute and I realize I probably should have waited until he was closer.

    Then there''s a knock on my door, and I immediately send an electric-magical pulse to the correct spot on the panel by the door, which unlocks the door and lets out a chirp on the other side of it. I can''t hear the chirp, but I know that it''s accompanied by the light on the lock turning from red to green and a statement that the door is briefly unlocked.

    The door opens and Parker enters, dressed in black shorts and a light blue sleeveless shirt. It looks good on him. That''s not really important and I''m not sure why that popped into my head.

    Especially since there''s something more important.

    "How''d you get up here?" I ask as he closes the door. "This is a pretty restricted zone."

    Parker''s never actually been in my professional workshop before, just my fun one at home.

    "I''m the best friend of the son of the owners," he snorts as he approaches. "I asked your mom and she let me up here. After this morning, I¡­ yeah."

    He looks a bit uncomfortable.

    "Is this about me ditching you after breakfast?" I ask. "Sorry, man. I''m just¡­ this project is frustrating me. Nothing I do works. My whole life is a failure."

    "Don''t be so dramatic," he rolls his eyes. "No¡­ I wanted to apologize."

    "For what?"

    "Um¡­ not saying something when Greg and Alan were being jerks to you the other day," he says. "I''ve been friends with them since we were in preschool together and¡­ I didn''t want to get between my friends. You and them. I didn''t know what to do and didn''t say anything¡­ I''m sorry."

    Parker has his "absolute honesty" expression so I know he''s serious. He''s not aware that he makes that face when he''s admitting to something big.

    So him being silent wasn''t him siding with his friends but not knowing what to do?

    "You''re forgiven," I lift my head up and spin my seat around so I''m facing him. "But if it doesn''t have to do with me ditching you to try and work on this¡­ what happened?"

    "Please," he huffs. "Anytime you get obsessed with one of your magitech things, you start ditching me to try and figure it out¡­ though that doesn''t look like a generator?"

    "I''m taking a break," I tell him. "The generator''s that one over there. I figured maybe I could modify a remote-controlled car''s controller to operate off the user''s own mana and was trying to do that. Sometimes, working on other things give me a eureka moment and I figure something out. I was messing with the mechanics of the generator earlier and¡­ my life is a complete and utter failure."

    "Stop with the dramatics," Parker rolls his eyes. "You''ll figure it out."

    "Maybe, maybe not," I sigh. "I think there''s really only one last hope for me to figure out how to scale down the formulas. It works fine on a larger scale ¨C I''ve checked ¨C it''s just the smaller one that''s problematic."

    "Can I ask what the last hope is?"

    "It depends on if Mom and Dad agree to it," I tell him. "Mom said ''no'', but I know Dad''s leaning towards it, so it depends on if he agrees to let me try and is able to convince Mom to at least let me try. So what happened this morning?"

    Parker sighs, knowing he''s been caught trying to shift the topic away. He can''t just bring it up and not tell me, though!

    "I went to the park with Greg and Alan," he tells me. "And some of the kids from my old school were there¡­ including Xander and his other friends. I went over to say hi and Greg and Alan just¡­ started making fun of the way that Xander speaks."

    "Wouldn''t that just be making fun of how they speak?" I ask. "Xander talks normal."

    "Not all the time," Parker shakes his head. "I''m not really sure what causes the shifts, but there are times when the way he talks is more¡­ I dunno, deliberate? It''s hard to describe. His voice is a little bit louder, too, but not, like, yelling-loud. I think it happens when he''s not uncomfortable, but also not comfortable? Like it''s more his ''normal, but not comfortable'' way of talking. I dunno. Like I said, it''s hard to describe, and I''m nowhere near good enough at this to know what causes it. So I could be wrong on that, too. I''m thirteen, not a psychologist."

    "I hadn''t noticed," I say. "I guess he doesn''t use it around me?"

    "He does," Parker snorts. "I told him you probably hadn''t noticed. It bothered him a lot and I tried to make sure he knew he was fine. It''s not like S.G. and his friends noticed ¨C they were defending him, too, and it was clear they didn''t know. They just tend to accept people and not notice minor things like that while you''re just oblivious."

    "So that happening made you want to apologize?" I turn around and examine the portion of the controller that''s frustrating me.

    "Well¡­ I got into a fight with Greg and Alan," he says. "And that''s kind of when I realized that¡­ they''ve gotten bad recently. They used to be good. But now they''re not. So we aren''t friends anymore. I don''t like coming between my friends and if some of them are being jerks to the others for no reason, I don''t want to be friends with them anymore. You and Xander get along great-"

    "Xander hates me," maybe if I alter this line just a tiny bit?

    "Yet accepts that you can protect him," Parker says. "And puts up with your babbling. And him not liking you is probably why he''s okay with you helping him overcome his fear of drowning. You two still get along."

    "I guess," I start altering the enchantment. "You really came here just to apologize? You could''ve done that tomorrow, you know. I wouldn''t have minded waiting."

    "No," Parker says. "I came here to drag your ass out of here. Dude! You are obsessing too much! You really need a break! And you already said you have to wait for your parents for the last thing you think you can try!"

    "That doesn''t mean I can''t realize something before then," I tell him. "That other thing might not be necessary."

    Parker groans, then grabs my arm and tugs on it.

    "Come on," he says. "It''s already past nine and you haven''t eaten."

    "I had some food and-"

    "According to your dad, you had snacks," he tugs again. "Come on! I''m gonna cook something."

    "Really?" I look at him. "What is it?"

    Parker''s a great cook.

    "What do you want?" He asks. "We''ve got plenty of food at home."

    "Chicken piccata, please!"

    I clean up my tools, then grab my things and leave, Parker''s dad taking us to their home. It probably is a good idea to do other stuff, but getting my mind off of the failed project is proving difficult.

    At Parker''s place, we go to the kitchen and I sit on a stool at the counter as he begins working on preparing food for me. Now that I''m away from work, I''m realizing just how hungry I am. Fortunately, his parents don''t mind me grabbing snacks.

    Because he doesn''t like to do half-measures when cooking, Parker even makes the egg noodles from scratch¡­ complete with their twists. It''s kind of funny that he''s like that with cooking because he has zero interest in actually being a chef.

    While it does make preparing food for us take extra time, the meal ends up coming out quite good so the extra wait for food is forgiven. It''s chicken piccata with buttery noodles and sauteed cauliflower and mushrooms. He made enough for both of us, and considering how much he eats, I''m guessing he didn''t have dinner yet, either.

    "So were you hanging out with Xander and them at the park all day?" I ask.

    "No," he answers. "Xander, S.G., and them all left around lunchtime. I hung out with some other kids, then grabbed a bite to eat before coming back here to play some video games. Then you weren''t answering your phone, so I realized you were probably still absorbed in your project and asked Dad if he could take me to the office."

    "Oh," I say. "Well¡­ thanks. I really did need food."

    "No problem," he snorts. "I''m used to you being an idiot. Now. I do kind of still feel bad about what happened with Xander earlier. I know it''s not my fault, but¡­ do you know something I can make for him for tomorrow? That''s not cheesecake. That takes awhile. And there''s already one in the fridge for him."

    Parker''s language of apologies is baked goods, while Xander''s very receptive to them, as long as they taste good. That''s kind of perfect.

    "Can''t go wrong with cookies!" I tell him. "He seems to like ones with fruit in them, like lemons, blueberries, or strawberries. Could do one of those!"

    "Alright," Parker nods. "Let''s do that. Oh, but first¡­ how much do you think my parents make?"

    "Parker!" His dad exclaims, having been getting a drink from the fridge when Parker asked that.

    "No, hold on," Parker tells him. "I think Luke''s just an idiot again."

    "Again?" I ask. "I looked up how much high-end caterers made and it''s about eighty grand or so a year, but your parents do mage-focused high-end, so probably a hundred grand a year, right? I didn''t want to ask how they managed to afford this house or how you''re attending the academy, though, since I figured that''d be rude."

    Parker''s dad is now staring at me with a mixture of shock and amusement on his face.

    "Luke," he says. "Do you think that''s how much we make total?"

    "Yeah."

    "That''s¡­ an individual wage," he says. "And we own the company on top of that, and it''s high-end mage catering. We make more than that each, and having lived in a middle-class area for longer than Parker has been alive until we moved here last summer, we had plenty of money to save up and invest. We own three percent of a clothing company Parker likes and started that back when they were worth significantly less. That''s in the tens of millions now."

    WHAT?

    "Wait, really?"

    Parker starts laughing hard enough he clutches his stomach as he bends over.

 Chapter 040

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    Mr. Massey''s math lesson seems easier for me to understand, even if only by a little bit. I definitely remember what he''s teaching today better than I did for the past lessons. My broke brain was definitely at fault for some of it, but I''m pretty sure this is still proof that I''m just stupid.

    Luke doesn''t stop fidgeting the entire class and when he answers a question for Mr. Massey, it''s rapid-fire speaking with lots of words. Too noisy, too noisy, too noisy! I know I said I wanted to try this, but he''s way too noisy.

    Though he can also apparently spin his pencil on his fingers, since he keeps doing that. At one point, Parker snatches it away and Luke doesn''t seem to notice at first.

    Then he grabs another and starts spinning it.

    When the lesson ends, Parker pulls a brown paper bag out of his backpack and holds it out to me. This isn''t leftovers from the snacks during the break, so I''m not sure what he''s doing.

    "Um¡­"

    "I''m sorry about yesterday," Parker tells me.

    "But that wasn''t your fault, was it?" I ask. "Wasn''t it ''cause those other boys were being mean? You told them to stop. And got mad at them. And lost your friendship. And that''s my fault."

    "That''s not your fault," Parker insists. "It''s theirs. They bullied you, you didn''t ask them to do that. You were just there. And¡­ I''m sorry. I should''ve stopped being friends with them sooner but I didn''t just ''cause we''ve been friends a long time. So it''s kind of my fault."

    I''m confused but I think it''ll upset Parker if I refuse the bag, so I accept it and peek inside. Lemon cookies with a powdered sugar dusting. These might be good.

    "Thank you," I tell him. "I''m going to go put my homework in the bedroom''s office now."

    "We''ll go to the pool," Luke tells me.

    "Okay."

    I go up to the bedroom and put my homework in the office, then check on Trenton and the others before bringing the cookies down to the kitchen and setting them on the counter (Ms. Katie says that''s okay when I ask).

    Luke and Parker are changed and talking by the pool once I reach it, but I don''t hurry to join them since there''s still time before the lesson begins. I change into my swimsuits and join them in the pool area.

    "Luke," I say when I approach him.

    "Yeah?" He asks, looking up and down me with a slight frown.

    Did I put the swimsuits on wrong?

    "I don''t think my panic will be calm enough for me to get in on my own today," I tell him. "But I want to try jumping. Can you let me try that bit?"

    My panic doesn''t feel as strangely calm as it was yesterday, with S.G. and the others. Maybe it''s just me not being as calmed down as I was yesterday, so my panic isn''t? I''m not sure how it works, just that sometimes, my panic is calmer or completely broken.

    "Like¡­ you try and jump but if you don''t after a certain amount of time, I jump?"

    "Yeah."

    "Alright," he says. "Are you ready to get in?"

    "Yeah."

    We move to the deep end of the pool and Luke starts to wrap his arms around me. The moment he touches me, he jerks back and falls to the ground.

    "I''msorryI''msorryI''msorryIdidn''tmeantoelbowyou-"

    "You didn''t elbow me," Luke gets up and gives me a grin. "Don''t worry about it! That was just me tripping! It''s not your fault! Come on, let''s do this again!"

    He lied. He lied that it was just him tripping¡­ but he was honest that it wasn''t my fault. That''s confusing. Why would he jerk backwards like that when he touched me but it not be my fault, if it wasn''t him tripping?

    "O¡­kay."

    Luke wraps his arms around me again and after I take a deep breath, he covers my mouth and pinches my nose. That makes my panic act up even more, as does trying to jump in.

    Jump, stupid body! I can''t jump! I need to jump! No jumping!

    My thoughts start becoming tangled up as I try to push through the panic¡­ and then I manage to jump with a squeal through Luke''s hand. We land in the water and my body goes into a bigger panic mode, but Luke keeps me from flailing around until the panic calms down.

    "You okay?" Luke asks once I stop struggling.

    "I don''t know."

    "I''m going to let go now," he says.

    "Okay."

    Luke lets go, and I turn onto my back to just drift in the water a little. Once I''ve calmed down some more, Coach Evan begins the lesson. It''s more about improving my form and floating than actually swimming, though Luke and Parker roughhouse a little, too.

    At least it''s not me that''s being roughhoused. Luke is really hyper today and it''s kind of scaring me. But what if he doesn''t want to protect me from the teachers anymore because constantly being low on mana doesn''t feel good? I don''t ever want to feel that way again now that I know what it''s like to have mana. It can''t feel good at all for someone who''s used to having lots of it.

    There''s only so long he''ll be nice to me for, and he''s not even being paid for it.

    The rest of the lesson happens without any other incidents and after, we shower and get dressed, then head to the back deck for lunch. The main part of it is just sandwiches, but Ms. Katie thinks it''s a nice day out for eating on the deck.

    "You came home for lunch?" I ask Mr. Trey. "Ms. Katie''s cooking is that good, isn''t it?"

    "No," Mr. Trey chuckles. "I mean, yes, her cooking is that good, but I didn''t come home for lunch. I only have essential personnel working the day before, of, and after Interception Day. I didn''t go in."

    "Essential personnel?" I ask. "I don''t¡­ know what that means."

    "People who are necessary for operations," he explains. "Since it''s a security systems company, we need IT ¨C the people who troubleshoot and try to fix problems ¨C there, along with members of the call center who handles when there''s an alert.

    "It''s not the full staff which is normally there," he tells me. "And they receive double pay, a party at the office, and a separate three-day holiday to make up for it. We also rotate the members who work the holiday shifts by holiday. The next big one is Labor Day, and the workers who are at the office for any of the shifts for this holiday break won''t be for that one."

    That sounds cool.

    "Speaking of offices," Luke says. "Mom and Dad said you could come check out my workshop. Today, even, if you want and Trey is okay with it. I was pretty excited when they told me because there''s something I think you might find cool. It''s a rem-"

    Parker flicks him on the nose and Luke protests, then starts jabbing him in the side.

    "Today?" I look at Mr. Trey. "Can I?"

    "Er¡­ they only cleared Xander to see my workshop, by the way," Luke tells Mr. Trey. "Sorry. Dad''s already gone in to cover up or move some of the more sensitive things. I''m sure you know how it goes, since you work in security. The stuff that''s being left out isn''t sensitive so they''re fine with Xander, but, well¡­ you''re an adult and that means things are a bit different."

    Oh. That means Mr. Trey''s going to refuse, isn''t it?

    "That''s fine," Mr. Trey tells Luke, then looks at me. "You can go, Xander. I''ll drive you there, I just can''t go into Luke''s workshop. Though I''m surprised they''re letting Xander. Things like that are usually locked up pretty tight."

    "There''s nothing sensitive being left out or in view," Luke shrugs. "So they know he can''t steal any of our secrets. They also know he won''t try to move things without permission."

    Does that mean they don''t trust Mr. Trey? Oh, no. Now I''m going to get told I can''t go and Mr. Trey is going to punish me for being trusted more than him.

    All Mr. Trey does is snort a little, then we finish eating lunch. I''m told to get ready to go so I do and make sure to grab Trenton. When I return downstairs, Ms. Katie hands me some containers of fruit and veggies and stuff to put into my backpack. The things which didn''t need to be kept cold, like cookies, were already in there from yesterday since I didn''t eat all of them.

    The containers are magic ones that will keep things cold, but that doesn''t last forever, so they need changing.

    Once everyone is ready to go, we leave. Luke and Parker ride with Luke''s dad, while I ride with Mr. Trey. I want to apologize to Mr. Trey on the way over, but that only makes me feel like he might get mad at me for bringing it up and cancel this.

    When we arrive at the big building that Gatewood Energy is based out of, Mr. Trey goes with Mrs. Gates and I go with Luke and his dad. Luke''s office is on a higher floor and the elevator scares me, but I try not to let them know that there''s panic in my chest.

    "Whoooa¡­"

    Luke''s office is huge and has lots of tables, shelves, cabinets, and boxes around the walls. Racks and drawers of tools are also scattered around the room, and there are a lot of outlets on the wall. Some of the tables in here have parts of things on them, like what looks like the controller for a car, or a mana battery that''s missing the actual mana container portion.

    A few larger objects on the floor are covered in thick cloths¡­

    "Um¡­" I look at Luke.

    "Yes?"

    "I accidentally used my magesight," I tell him. "I use it lots in new places and¡­ accidentally forgot to not. Is that bad?"

    It''s something I started doing more after learning that Mr. Trey''s house was enchanted. Now I''m learning just how much magic is in everything, but that doesn''t mean I fully understand it.

    "No," he shakes his head. "Dad covered up everything that has any of our company''s developing secrets. Stuff that''s not protected by our patents. Or moved it out of here if that wasn''t too difficult."

    "Oh," I look at the object that caught my attention, then look at Luke. "But covering it up doesn''t affect magesight?"

    "The cloths are magic," he says. "They''re filled with enchantments to obfuscate what''s under them. So magesight doesn''t work on them."

    "I don''t know what obs-you-skate is," I tell him. "But¡­ maybe the cloths are broken? I can see their enchantments fine. And that one there, the thing under it has unhappy magic."

    "Unhappy magic?" He frowns. "What do you mean?"

    He''s frowning. I fucked up, didn''t I? Stupid fucking me.

    "Yeah," I nod. "It''s not very happy. One part of it just says ''no'' to another part. And then another part is doing the same thing that Greyson''s mega computer was doing. It''s not on right now, but when it''s on, it''s gonna heat up lots."

    It''s doing almost exactly the same thing as the mega computer problem Greyson asked me to help with.

    "Wait, hold on," Luke looks at his dad. "You didn''t use an obfuscation canvas?"

    "I did," his dad says. "Three of them on each item which needed it. Xander, are you saying that you can see the enchantments anyway?"

    "Yeah."

    "You can see the enchantments?" Luke asks. "Like, the actual mana paths and magical etchings? Despite not physically seeing the object?"

    "That''s magesight, isn''t it?" I ask, then remember what Greyson told me on Saturday. "Or¡­ maybe not? Greyson said mine''s mentally different. Well, he also said it''s fun, but I''m not sure how it''s fun."

    "Probably fundamentally different," Luke says. "Yeah. He told Mom that, and you kind of mentioned it on Saturday. The canvases should''ve still blocked it. Can you explain a bit more on what you mean by ''unhappy''?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think, then remember something that Greyson put into my backpack. I don''t like when he messes with my backpack, but he never takes stuff from it and never puts anything really bad in it. "I''m not a very good artist, but maybe I can show you?"

    I pull off my backpack and rummage through it until I find what I''m looking for: a pen similar to the one Greyson had me use on Saturday.

    "Is that Trenton in there?" Mr. Gates asks.

    "He wanted to come, but I told him he''s not allowed to look so I put him in my backpack before getting out of the car."

    This pen works similar the one Greyson let me use on Saturday, except it draws on air with light magic rather than interfacing with his projector.

    I turn it on and select the right color for the first bit, then start drawing in the air. My lines aren''t perfect, and I keep looking back at the canvas-covered object, but I manage to get a rough drawing of what I''m seeing.

    "This here," I point at one line. "And then this one here. "They''re leaking over and when their leaks meet, they make a new line, this one here. The magics in them are different than the ones for Greyson''s mega computer, but they''re acting similar. And when their leaks say hello to each other, they make a line that tells the rest of them to generate a heat field."

    "Even the mana analyzer didn''t read something like that," Luke says. "How sure are you?"

    "Well¡­" I look at the hidden device again. "Maybe I messed up drawing the lines? But I can see the leaks even though it''s not on. They''re really faint, and the lines are thinner."

    "Why are they leaking?" Luke asks. "Not asking you, Xander, I''m sure you don''t have an answer. I''m trying to figure out why they would be leaking."

    "Um¡­" I shift a little. "If you turn it on, maybe I could see? I can only see what''s left from when it was on. The leak doesn''t happen without mana flowing through it."

    Luke looks at his dad, who sighs and nods.

    "Okay," Luke says. "Give me a minute to hook it back up. But it shuts off pretty fast because one part just refuses to turn on. There''s a fail-safe to prevent it from trying to build up too much energy. So watch closely."

    I nod, then Luke uncovers the object, pulling off the three thick canvases from a device that has lots of exposed parts. They''ll probably need to put a shell on it once it''s done being worked on.

    After adjusting a few things and putting some mana crystals into a slot, Luke turns on the machine, which powers up. Whoa. The magic is so happy but also unhappy.

    "Do you need me to turn it on again?" Luke asks.

    "Maybe?" I answer. "But I saw it. This bit here is really happy. It likes how it is."

    "That''s the part I got to work," Luke tells me. "What about the¡­ the unhappy bit? The part that creates a heat field."

    "Oh. Yeah," I turn back to the machine and then back to the drawing in the air. "This bit here can feel this other bit and so it''s trying to say hello. And this bit here can feel it doing that, so it''s saying hello back. It''s not like normal leaky magic. Um¡­ it''s hard to describe, but I''ve seen this kind of leaky magic a few times when playing with some stuff at Greyson''s workshop. I didn''t know that they would make a baby that makes a heat field when their hellos met, though."

    I never let them interact enough for that, always adjusting things so they don''t talk to each other. It was Greyson''s workshop, I was scared something would blow up.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    "This is really hard to understand," Luke walks over and starts pointing on the floating image. "But¡­ basically, these two parts are being drawn to each other? And where they meet, their energies mingle and create a new enchantment line, which generates a heat field while active?"

    Oh. I guess that''s another way to say it. It''s not really correct, but it''s correct enough that it''s probably okay to confirm it.

    "Yeah," I nod. "When I want to get enchantments to stop saying hello to each other, I have to put them on different pieces of metal and connect the two. Not fused. But I think it''s okay if they''re further apart, too. Like¡­ maybe three or four times as far apart?"

    "That''s it!" Luke exclaims. "That''s why it only happens when I scale it down! Because the smaller version has them closer together due to it being smaller! Wait. Would the enchantments being bigger extend the reach?"

    "I don''t think so?" I tell him. "I''m not good at this stuff. I don''t really understand what enchantments do. Like¡­ I can see them, and I can tell when they''re happy or not, but I can''t tell what they''re actually doing most of the time or why they do it. But with these¡­ I think it''s okay if they''re bigger? I don''t think being bigger makes them notice each other from further away.

    "Greyson''s could," I say. "But the mana for the magic was different so that probably affected it. The parts that are saying hi are weaker, too. Like, um¡­ what''s the word? Weaker in a, um¡­ a natural part of them? So making them bigger won''t make them stronger, it just lets them do more. Like if you make a cup and then make another hold three times as much water, but with the same thickness for the glass part itself. It can hold more and might even make what you see through it look different in a different way than the smaller one does, but it''ll still shatter if you drop it."

    That was too much talking. I hope it made sense.

    "Hm¡­" Luke examines the drawing in the air.

    "Sorry for it being badly drawn," I tell him. "I''m not so good at that. Oh. And this part here is the one that says ''no'' to the other bit. I saw it happen when the thing was on. It didn''t like how short the other one is."

    "How¡­ short the other one is?" Luke asks.

    "And how slim," I nod. "It wants the other bit beefier and longer. I''ve had that happen a few times and always fix it by doing this."

    I erase part of the line that gets rejected, then make some loops, and also make the line thicken a little so that it''s twice as thick once it reaches the part that rejects it, which I widen a little as well, then let narrow back down to how slim it originally was.

    "This always works for me," I tell him. "The other one would prefer it to be straighter, not all curvy like this, but there''s not much room for that. Um. There might be on that machine, actually. I don''t know. But there usually isn''t when I''m trying to make stuff."

    Luke starts tapping his chin as he examines the drawing.

    "Sorry for it being drawn bad," I tell him.

    "Not that," he says. "What are all the colors?"

    "Oh," I say. "That''s what they look like to me? Greyson says that magesight is a bit different for others, so I guess maybe you guys don''t have the colors. He asks me a lot to use mine on stuff and then asks me what things look like, and then he makes notes. I think he has a manual on what the colors mean."

    "Want to see me do some enchanting?" Luke asks, then looks at his dad. "Can I show Xander me working with doing based on what he said, rather than showing him me making the RC car?"

    The way he said that, I think means that he was originally planning on just showing me him working on the RC car. I''m curious about that, since I want to see how differently it is from how Greyson works on them.

    "Go ahead," his dad tells him.

    "Okay," Luke says. "Want to see it, Xander?"

    "Is that okay?"

    "I mean¡­ you kind of already have the secret bits in your head," Luke tells me. "So it''s not like you''ll be getting anything new that we need to keep secret. But please don''t tell others? Or show them how to do it, or use it yourself, or with Greyson."

    "I won''t," I tell him. "Greyson does things differently."

    "He means the specific enchantment setups," Mr. Gates tells me. "Not the techniques you mentioned, but the overall structure. It''s going to be one of our patents once it''s completed."

    "What''s a patent?" I ask.

    "Something we own," Luke tells me. "Which requires a license for others to use. Basically, if you invent something, you can patent it. Then, it''s yours for twenty years and no one else can use it without your permission or you can send lawyers after them. Specific enchanting methods can''t be patented ¨C sort of like your workarounds for the problem I''m facing ¨C but enchantment setups themselves can be. As can devices that they''re used for.

    "Basically," he gestures to the floating drawing. "None of the parts of this are able to be patented. But in use together, they are because it creates a specific desired function. Sort of like a chemical formula for a medicine."

    "The purpose of a patent," Mr. Gates tells me. "Is to let an inventor establish themselves before facing competition, possibly from bigger companies that could push them out. The holder of a patent can also sell licenses to others for use it, earning money off of it."

    "Yeah," Luke nods. "So basically, if I finish this enchantment and it works, then I could let others use it in their own generators, they''d just have to pay me a fee. And it couldn''t be by itself, it would have to be only one part of it."

    "Also," Mr. Gates says. "One part of that is being patented. Luke forgot that he invented a setup that counts as its own function."

    "Oh, right," Luke nods. "Yeah. That one''s gonna change things big-time. Anyway, want to see me do this?"

    I like watching Greyson work on magitech. Maybe Luke will be a lot calmer.

    "Sure."

    Ten minutes later, I learn that Luke starts sparking while he works on magitech. His movements also become even faster, but he''s not talking as much. How he manages to draw so cleanly despite moving so fast is beyond me and it''s pretty amazing.

    Luke continues to move faster and faster as he grabs things and that starts to scare me. Thankfully, Mr. Gates lets me know that it''s okay to take out Trenton, so I do and hug him tight while moving a little bit further away.

    After about an hour and a half of working, Luke manages to build a new version of the generator. That''s what Mr. Gates says the project is, a portable magitech power generator.

    Once it''s ready, Luke starts hooking up the new version of the generator to a few things, then puts some mana crystals into a container in it and turns it on, taking a few steps back as he watches.

    "It works!" He exclaims after about thirty seconds of watching both the generator and some monitors he''s got set up. "Look! The heat is completely gone! And the energy flow is right, so it just keeps going! It doesn''t stop!"

    Luke suddenly turns and hugs me while jumping. Don''t scream. Don''t scream. Don''t scream.

    "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

    Don''t scream. Don''t scream. Don''t scream!

    "Luke," his dad says. "Let go of Xander."

    "What?" Luke stops jumping, then lets go and takes a few quick steps back. "Sorry, Xander! I''m just so excited! I''ve been stuck on this forever! Oh my goodness. Oh my gosh. Dad, how do we even pay this type of consultancy? Part of the reason things were being hidden was so that we wouldn''t be asking Xander to try and use his magesight but then he went and did it and we aren''t prepared for this and oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!"

    "You wanted to ask me to use my magesight?" I ask.

    "Yeah," Luke says. "But that would''ve been wrong for us to do so we weren''t going to. I mean, I would''ve if my parents hadn''t told me not to ask¡­ but then you went and did it all on your own."

    "Sorry¡­" I hug Trenton tighter.

    "You''re not in trouble," Mr. Gates tells me. "Part of it as to protect our secret projects, but part of it was to avoid trying to use your ability for profit. We didn''t want you to feel pressured into doing it."

    "Oh¡­" I hug Trenton tighter again. "Um¡­ but why did you want me to use my magesight? Did you know that it''s different?"

    "Greyson mentioned it when he was talking to Mom when he came in for power cores on Saturday," Luke tells me. "And-"

    "Sorry for interrupting," I say. "But he came in on Saturday?"

    "Saturday morning, yes," Mr. Gates answers.

    "Oh," I say. "So it wasn''t after I asked him to stop. He probably won''t, but I tried. Sorry."

    "It''s not like you can control him," Mr. Gates says. "And Adrian King had contacted us awhile ago and told us to contact him if Greyson didn''t ever leave enough money to cover the costs of the cores he took and he''d put an end to it."

    It seems that our great-grandfather was already aware of Greyson''s activities¡­ and was keeping an eye on him. That makes me feel relieved, but it''s also really impressive since Greyson wasn''t aware of it. Should I let him know?

    Probably not. I''ve already interfered in other peoples'' business too much.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ you were saying something, Luke? Sorry for interrupting you."

    "It''s okay," he says. "And then Saturday, when we were talking, you''d mentioned something that made me realize that you probably perceived mana differently. I was gonna ask if you could take a look to see what you saw¡­ but Mom and Dad told me ''no''."

    Luke starts messing with his hair and judging by the surprised expression when he touches it, he wasn''t aware that it was sparking. It was even when he grabbed me and started jumping, as it never stopped after he began sparking while working.

    "Oh," I say as he starts patting his hair, the sparks starting to go away. "But because I did it accidentally, it''s okay?"

    "Basically, yeah," Luke nods. "But now it counts as a consultancy, since you took a look at things and gave me advice, and it was for a project for the company. Daaaaaaad. I don''t know how to figure out a consultancy rate for something like this. Like, what he did was impossible even for a mana analyzer and he knew how to deal with it."

    "Is the machine done now?" I ask. "The¡­ generator, right?"

    "Yeah," Luke nods. "It''s a generator. And no, it''s not done. But now that I''m past the block point, I can work on cleaning up the enchantments, optimizing the materials and layout, and so on."

    I have zero idea what that means and am nervous to ask. Shouldn''t that all be part of making the enchantment itself?

    "Dad?" Luke looks at his dad. "What do we do? We weren''t prepared for this!"

    "Come on," Mr. Gates beckons for us to follow him.

    We leave Luke''s workshop and go to another floor, where Mr. Trey is talking with Luke''s mom. They look over as we approached.

    "How was it?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Luke let me watch him build a generator," I tell Mr. Trey. "But I think he meant to tell me some of what he was doing. He didn''t. He got really into it."

    "A generator?" Mrs. Gates looks at Mr. Gates. "Wasn''t it supposed to be a remote-controlled car and a battery?"

    "Xander''s apparently in the habit of using his magesight in new places," Mr. Gates tells her. "And forgot to not. As Greyson told us, it seems to be pretty different in how it functions. He could detect the enchantments in the generator Luke''s been working on through the three obfuscation canvases I put over it."

    "Yeah!" Luke bounces a bit, his hair sparking even more than it was before. "And he was even able to tell what was wrong just looking at it! Apparently, the reason his magesight is fundamentally different, as the teleporter told you, is because he can sense states of mana that mana analyzers can''t! Apparently, some of the energies from some of my enchantments were drawn to each other and that was creating a new enchantment that created a heat bubble, which is why it was heating up. And then there was just some weirdness with one of the connections between enchantments that made it just reject the input, but Xander knew how to fix that. Actually, he knew how to fix the other problem, too, which was really cool! So I rebuilt the generator using the modifications he suggested and it works! So now all that''s left is the optimization and cleanup, and we can get it onto the market! Apparently, the one bit of connections wanted the other bit to be loopy and longer and wider, and I had to put in some sort of separator between the two that were drawing to each other."

    "Luke?" I hope he''s not mad at me for interrupting.

    "Yes?"

    "Please take a breath."

    His parents both start laughing.

    "Also, your sparks are being more sparky."

    "Huh?" He screws up his face in confusion, then reaches up and touches his hair, his eyes widening a little. "Again? Seriously! Argh!"

    "You know magitech?" Mrs. Gates asks.

    "Only a little," I say. "And mostly because of Greyson. He tries to get me to do magitech stuff, so he made me my own work zone and gives me guides on how to do it."

    "So he''s how you knew what to do?" She asks.

    "Sometimes," I say. "I come across a bit where an enchantment doesn''t want to talk to the other because the other''s too short and slim, which is how I knew what to do. And I didn''t realize that enchantments talking to each other made new magics until Saturday, after Greyson asked me to look at his mega computer with my magesight and I did and we talked about what I was seeing. I usually just changed things so that they wouldn''t talk to each other once I noticed that they were trying to."

    "Yeah," Luke nods. "Which is like, super weird. But now I can finish the generator! But since he gave help on it, he earns a consultancy fee. I have zero clue how to figure that out. How the fu-"

    "Luke!" Both of his parents exclaim.

    "How do you figure out something like that for something like this?" Luke changes his wording.

    As he asks that, I shuffle next to Mr. Trey.

    "Mr. Trey?" I whisper to him.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "What''s a consultancy fee, and do I have to pay it because I looked by accident?"

    "No," he chuckles. "A consultancy fee is something charged by someone or paid to someone for providing expert knowledge or services to a business. What you did counts as a consultancy, even if it wasn''t expert knowledge. In this case, it''s more of a specialist rather than consultant, but it''ll essentially be charged the same."

    "Um¡­"

    "Basically," he says. "You provided specialized knowledge that''s not easy to come by, so you get paid."

    "I get paid?"

    "Yes."

    "I can normally figure out the rate myself," Luke tells me. "And am even authorized to have the checks cut even if I can''t cut them myself, but only up to a certain amount. But this isn''t something I have any experience in at all, nor does our company. At least, I don''t think we do. So I don''t really know how to base this, and it''d probably be above what I''m allowed to issue."

    "Twenty dollars?" It wasn''t hours of work, but that''s more than minimum wage, right?

    "Melody," Mr. Gates and the others all seem like they''re trying not to laugh. "How much would it have cost to run the mana analyzer on Saturday, had we not used one of the power cores made from Luke''s mana?"

    "Nearly two hundred thousand," she answers.

    "Xander," Mr. Gates crouches a little so that his eyes are level with mine. "On Saturday, they did something that could have cost us almost two hundred thousand dollars in an effort to learn what you were able to determine. In other words, what you did is worth more than two hundred thousand dollars."

    "I''m sorry," I tell him. "But I think I misheard you. Maybe my ears aren''t so good even though my brain is fixed. Did you say two hundred?"

    "Thousand," Mr. Gates says.

    "Two thousand?"

    "Two hundred thousand."

    "My brain isn''t broke, but it''s still stupid," I say. "It''s not able to understand how I could do something worth that much."

    "Worth more than," Luke tells me. "Just having different magesight alone isn''t enough. You were able to understand what you were seeing and communicate what it was. On top of that, you were able to advise on how to fix the problem. That''s not something that someone can just do, it''s something they need experience for. That''s why people get paid based on the value of it, and that value is based on what the best available outside of such experience is, but higher. The next-best thing in this case was nearly two hundred thousand dollars, and you were even better than that. I really don''t know how to value this¡­ but I also couldn''t authorize the payment, so that''s on Mom and Dad."

    This is still confusing me, but I think I understand it a little. I have magesight that works better than a machine that analyzes mana, and I know enough about how to understand it that I was able to provide insight they couldn''t get otherwise. At least, I think that''s what they''re saying.

    Well, also that Luke isn''t authorized to make payments as big as what this knowledge I have is apparently worth.

    "I ran some numbers while Luke rebuilt the generator," Mr. Gates tells Mrs. Gates. "Came up with a figure that should suffice based on what little background on this we have."

    "Alright," she says. "Do you want me to handle it?"

    "I will," he responds, then looks at Mr. Trey. "I''ll need you, though. He''s under eighteen so there''s no income tax, but there''s still a little paperwork to fill out."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey looks at me. "Come on, Xander."

    "Bye, Luke," I wave to Luke, then follow Mr. Trey and Mr. Gates.

    They go to another room, this one on another floor, and Mr. Gates prints up some papers, binds them together, then has Mr. Trey look through them and sign them. Mr. Trey seems surprised by whatever amount Mr. Gates is paying, but he doesn''t say it while asking Mr. Gates if it''s correct.

    While they both sit down, I stand by the door. I wasn''t told I could sit so I''m not sure if I can or not.

    After Mr. Trey fills out some paperwork and signs it, the two men talk for a few minutes. When someone knocks on the door, Mr. Gates calls for them to enter and a woman carrying a folder does. She hands the folder to Mr. Gates before leaving, and he opens it up and pulls something out.

    "Xander," Mr. Gates holds out the item. "This is your payment for the help earlier. Thank you much for the assistance, and please remember ¨C don''t tell anyone the designs you saw, okay?"

    "Okay," I accept the paper from him.

    This is a check, right? Why''s it for $500,000? That''s way more than $200,000. But Mr. Trey made sure the amount was correct, so I shouldn''t question it. Even if he hadn''t, that would just get me into trouble since it''s an adult who determined the amount.

    At least Mr. Trey doesn''t have to worry about feeding me anymore.

    "Here," I hold the check out to Mr. Trey.

    "Are you giving it to me for safekeeping or because you think I should be the one to get the money to afford you?"

    "So you don''t have to worry about feeding me anymore."

    "I''m not worried about that," he groans. "Xander, I told you, I can afford the extra cost that comes with feeding a mage. I bought a second popcorn maker just so you could have one for buttered and one for non-buttered! If I were concerned about money, I wouldn''t have spent any on that!"

    He looks at Mr. Gates.

    "Thank you," Mr. Trey tells him. "We should probably get going. I''m going to need to talk with Xander some more, and we should probably get to the bank before it closes."

    "Doesn''t the money go in your account?" I ask Mr. Trey. "So it''s still gonna be for feeding me."

    "No, it won''t," Mr. Trey stands. "I set up accounts for you after you officially came into my custody. Let''s get going. Have a good day, Tristan."

    "Bye," I tell Mr. Gates.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts toward the end of Xander''s PoV

    "Mom," I say after Xander, Dad, and Trey leave.

    "You want to go back to working on the generator, don''t you?"

    "Well, there''s also that," I look at her. "But this morning, when I went to grab Xander for the jump into the pool¡­ I was startled so bad I fell."

    "Why?" She frowns a little.

    "So you know how I can faintly sense mana with physical contact, right?" I ask, and she nods. "So Xander''s always had a low amount, a little bit less than average, right? When I touched him today, though¡­ he had roughly six times as much as I can hold."

    Mom frowns a little bit more.

    "Are you sure?" She asks.

    I roll my eyes at her, earning a light whack to the back of the head.

    "Mom, feeling that much mana knocked me over," I say. "Yes, I''m sure."

    "That''s¡­ certainly interesting," she says.

    "Yeah, it is," I agree. "Why would Xander go from having almost no mana to having a monstrous amount? Are there even any people with that much mana?"

    "Very few of the Lumaria Kings do," she tells me. "But he''s not one of them and even if he were, he couldn''t have generated that much mana in such a short amount of time. Even if they have monstrous amounts of mana, they don''t recover with the same percentage ratios as we do. It''s lower, as far as I''m aware."

    "The teleporter probably does," I say.

    "His teleport spell leaks more mana than you can hold," she tells me. "He probably has more than a million units of mana on the scale."

    My phone pings as she says that and I pull it out to check the notification. It''s a text from Tyler, so I open it up to find a picture of him in a hotel bedroom, dressed in a pair of black shorts with a white towel wrapped around his neck, hair still darkened from the shower he must''ve just taken.

    Tyler: Civilization! And a shower! Never leave me, hot water!

    So dramatic. But it looks like he and his dad are done with their hunts! He''d told me on Saturday that he probably wouldn''t have signal while hunting and would message me once they returned to civilization.

    It makes me happy that he actually did, since I was expecting him to use that as his excuse to stop talking with me entirely.

    "Luke?" Mom asks as I start to type a response, and I look at her. "We were talking."

    "Oh!" I say. "Sorry! It looks like Tyler and his dad finished their weekend of hunting! Look!"

    I show her the picture, and she frowns slightly for a moment.

    "You shouldn''t frown so much," I tell her. "You''ll get wrinkles."

    "The keycard on the nightstand there," she tells me. "It''s for the Grand Winter Hotel just outside of town. Since he''s nearby, I take it you''re going to want to see about hanging out with him?"

    That puts me into a dilemma as I want to finish my generator now that I was able to fix what''s wrong with it. At the same time, however, hanging out with Tyler is fun and also not a common occurrence and also probably one that won''t happen very much longer.

    Though I won''t be able to finish optimizing the generator until after the holiday, anyway, as that usually takes at least a week or three of time¡­ so I guess taking the rest of the day off isn''t bad.

    Hanging out with someone who''s not in town much but does seem willing to be my friend is a good option, too.

    "Can I?" I ask.

    "Sure," she answers. "Why don''t you ask him? I can ask Trey later if he knows what''s going on with Xander''s mana."

    "Thanks!" I send Tyler a quick text.

    Luke: You''re in town? Wanna hang out?

    Tyler: Yeah! Best place?

    "He said yes!" I tell Mom. "I''m gonna go get cleaned up! Should I call Xavier?"

    "I''ll have him come over," she tells me. "You figure out where you two are going."

    "Awesome!" I tell her. "Bye!"

 Chapter 041

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts around the beginning of Chapter 40

    "Morning, Aunt Rachel," I rub my right eye as I exit the hall. "Whatcha doin''?"

    She''s putting stuff out on the one of the kitchen counters, but I stayed up really late last night and am taking a bit to wake up. I''d normally probably know immediately what''s going on, but I''m still too asleep.

    "Making breakfast," she chuckles.

    I look at the counter to see how obvious that should have been. A half-used package of bacon, an open carton of eggs with only four left, a half-used can of biscuits, and some dishes. Definitely should have been obvious.

    "They oven''s finished preheating," Aunt Rachel tells me as she pulls some bacon strips out of the package and lays them on the skillet that''s already on the stove, the sweet sound of sizzling filling the air. "Why don''t you get biscuits on the tray?"

    "Alright," I say.

    I pull apart the biscuit chunks and put them on the baking tray, then get them in the oven and turn on the timer. There are only five biscuits left, and we''ll eat all of that. While everything cooks, I grab jam from the fridge and put it on the table, then grab dishes for us.

    After breakfast, I help Aunt Rachel do the dishes, then she sends me to my room to get dressed and ready to go. I change into a better outfit than just a pair of black shorts, including pulling on a green sleeveless shirt to go with the grey shorts I change into. Once I''m dressed, have grabbed the stuff for my pockets, and slipped on shoes, I meet Aunt Rachel at the front door.

    Aunt Rachel drives us to a furniture store, where we start looking at stuff.

    "You''re not gonna try to do matching furniture for all of the rooms, are you?" I ask. "The kind where all of the furniture has to match, not just the stuff in each room?"

    "No," Aunt Rachel chuckles. "Let''s look at the stuff for the living room first."

    "What about this couch?" I take off.

    "Walk, Sig!" Aunt Rachel calls, and I slow down, then plop onto the couch once I reach it.

    "Oooh! It''s comfy!"

    It''s a big, green couch with very deep seats and cushions. I can''t sit all the way back and have my knees bent, if my feet are on the floor with my knees bent on the edges of the cushions, the back of the couch is still at least a foot away from my back. And that''s with it having thick back cushions. There''s a love seat to go with the sofa, and an armchair, too.

    "I''m not sure about for the living room," Aunt Rachel says. "But we can keep it in mind for the basement."

    "What basement?"

    "There''s a basement."

    "THERE''S A BASEMENT?"

    "Volume, Sig!" She laughs. "I had a feeling you didn''t notice. There''s even a door leading out to the back yard from it. Know how it''s sloped at the front and the deck leads straight onto it to the side but with a drop?"

    "Yeah."

    "You must have missed that there''s a space under the deck," she beckons for me to get up. "There''s a sliding door leading into the basement, which has an extra bedroom and bathroom, in addition to the utilities room and a laundry room. The rest of the space doubles as an extra living room with added space."

    "Ooooh," I jump to my feet. "Gonna make that the guest room, then? I guess you need to use one of the bedrooms for an office, too."

    "Was thinking of making it a rec area for you," Aunt Rachel tells me. "A living room with a big TV for playing games or watching stuff on. And the bedroom and bathroom down there for you, as long as you promise that you''ll still come up and hang out with me sometimes when you''re there."

    "Of course!" I say. "But why not give it to the foster kid? I bet he''d be happy to have that whole space! I''m fine with just a bedroom!"

    "Don''t worry about that, Sig," she ruffles my hair. "Let''s just get furniture picked out, alright? And keep an eye out for a coffee table for both the living room and for the basement."

    As we look at different piece of furniture for the different rooms, a man who''s not in the employee uniform approaches us. He''s wearing khakis and a light blue button-up with short sleeves that''s tucked in, a belt fixed around his waist, and black-and-grey sneakers on his feet.

    "Are you Rachel and S.G.?" The man asks.

    "Yes," Aunt Rachel gives him a suspicious look.

    "I''m Derrick," the man holds out a hand. "Paul''s coworker."

    "Oh!" Aunt Rachel takes his hand. "Nice to meet you, Derrick. Paul didn''t say how long you''d be free to help us for outside of this morning. Can we expect you until lunch, at least?"

    "I''m free all day," Derrick tells her. "So however long the truck is needed for, and I have a trailer as well. If you want it, I can help move things as well."

    "In that case," she says. "Would you be willing to help tear out carpeting? I want to paint the basement today as well."

    "Why paint the basement?" I ask.

    "The walls are faded," she tells me. "The carpet''s getting replaced as well, but that should wait until after the paint is done. We''ll do that later in the week, once the paint''s set. The furniture can get moved to another room while painting, and again when we''re replacing the carpet."

    "Oh, okay!"

    "Let''s finish picking out the furniture."

    Aunt Rachel and I continue looking at the furniture, with Derrick giving his thoughts a little. Once everything''s picked out, Aunt Rachel hands an employee the purchase tags she picked from the pouches at each one to an employee near the front.

    "It looks like we have all of these in stock in our storage," she tells Aunt Rachel after scanning all of them. "Are you wanting to pick up now or later?"

    "Now," Aunt Rachel answers.

    "Okay," the employee says, then does a few more things on her computer, then Aunt Rachel pays and receives some papers. "If you head to the left of the building while facing it from the front, there''s some loading bays toward the back. It will be a few minutes before they get everything moved out there, though."

    "Can we pick it up in two trips?" Derrick asks. "So that they have more time to get it, or should we come back in a bit to pick everything up?"

    "You can do two trips if you''d prefer," the employee answers. "They''ll handle that back there."

    We head outside and get into our cars, then drive to the loading bays. Aunt Rachel, Derrick, and I aren''t allowed to do any of the loading once the furniture is ready, but the employees do take a look at the trailer and truck and grab pieces that they can get to fit into the truck. They''re faster than we expected, and with some of the stuff being in boxes and needing assembly (the beds and coffee tables), we''re able to get everything now.

    "Do you have a key?" I ask as we''re on our way to the house.

    "Picked it up yesterday," Aunt Rachel answers. "And it''s this street, I think."

    Aunt Rachel turns onto a street, and the street to her new neighborhood is on the right a little bit down it. Once we arrive, I help her and Derrick bring everything inside.

    "There''s already power?" I ask as Derrick and I carry the couch into the living room.

    "Utilities were turned on this morning," Aunt Rachel tells me as she follows behind us, not carrying anything. "So there''s electric and water. Put that there."

    Derrick and I get the living room filled up and the other upstairs stuff put away, then we carry the box of the bed pieces for my bedroom down to the basement. Aunt Rachel''s already turned on the lights down here and opened the doors, and it looks so weird.

    Not in a bad way. When one first goes down the stairs is a small room with another room off of it, which Aunt Rachel informs us is the utilities room. That small room it''s off of is where the washer and dryer go, too, and there''s a door leading off of it into the basement''s main area. Derrick and I can''t see it, though, since we came in through the sliding doors from outside.

    Those are glass and dirty.

    At the back of the room we entered in through are two doors, with the one on the left leading to the bedroom and the one on the right leading to the bathroom. Aunt Rachel''s already opened the bedroom door, so we''re able to bring the bed straight in.

    "Paul mentioned," Derrick says to Aunt Rachel. "That the boys are spending the night here tomorrow and going to help with the back yard and stuff after?"

    "Yeah," Aunt Rachel answers. "Either up in the living room or down here."

    "The carpets look a little¡­ dirty," Derrick tells her. "I know you mentioned replacing them all at some point, but it might not be a bad idea to get them cleaned before anyone sleeps on them. Unless the bed''s getting assembled and they''re all going to sleep on it?"

    "That would be waaaaay too cramped!" I exclaim. "Two people on that, max! And there''s gonna be four of us! Well, we could get all four of us on it, but it''d be too cramped."

    Both of them laugh when I say that, and Aunt Rachel messes with my hair.

    "Stooooooooop!" I pull away and start fixing my hair. "That''s like, twenty times today!"

    "Not even close," Aunt Rachel chuckles.

    "My sister owns a carpet-cleaning business," Derrick tells Aunt Rachel. "Uses a magitech cleaner that mixes normal steam cleaning with something extra. Very effective, very fast. Won''t fluff the carpets back up, but it''ll make them pretty clean, and the cleaner dries it as well. If you want, I can give her a call and see if she''s free. I doubt S.G. and his friends want to sleep on dirty carpets."

    "Yeah, no, I definitely don''t want to sleep on this," I say.

    The carpet looks a little grimy.

    "How much will that cost?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "Don''t worry about the cost," Derrick tells her. "Consider it a housewarming gift."

    "You don''t know me," Aunt Rachel says. "And you''re already letting us borrow your help for today."

    I''m pretty sure he finds her attractive. While I''m not saying she should start dating him or whatever, she should totally take up the offer he''s making.

    "Aunt Rachel," I poke her in the side. "Just accept the free carpet cleaning."

    "Alright," Aunt Rachel gives in. "I''ll accept if she''s willing."

    Derrick pulls out his phone and calls someone, receiving an answer almost immediately.

    "Hey, Trace," he says. "Are you free to do a cleaning right now? No, not mine. You remember Paul, right? One of his son''s friend''s aunts is moving into town and I''m helping her and her nephew move furniture in, and the carpets are¡­ gross. She''s planning on replacing the carpets, but it might be better to have them cleaned so they''re good until then. No, I''ll pay. Thanks!"

    Derrick gives his sister the address, then lets us know that his sister will be here in about fifteen minutes. Since that''s on its way, we hold off on bringing the basement rec room furniture down, but Derrick and I bring down the desk and chair for my bedroom, since those are in boxes and can be moved easily.

    "They''re here!" Aunt Rachel calls down the stairs while I''m telling Derrick how I think I want the rec space arranged, since Aunt Rachel told me I can have some extra stuff down here due to the size.

    "They''re?" Derrick looks at the stairs. "Come on, S.G."

    We head upstairs to find a woman about the same age as Aunt Rachel and Derrick entering the house with a couple of machines that look like steam cleaners, along with a guy who looks about sixteen or seventeen. He''s got brown hair and green eyes, just like Derrick and his sister do, and is dressed in sneakers, shorts, and a sleeveless.

    "Thought you were working today, Hunter?" Derrick asks.

    "I am," Hunter tells him. "Aunt Tracey wanted some help with a couple of houses this morning and I was off from work so I offered to help. We''d just gotten everything loaded back up from the last house when you called her."

    "Oh," Derrick seems surprised by that. "Rachel, S.G., this is my son, Hunter, and that''s my sister, Tracey."

    We all greet each other and introduce ourselves, then Aunt Rachel suggests they start with the basement''s two carpets. They vacuum first, then run their cleaner machines over the carpet. The entire process for the two rooms takes about an hour, and the carpet looks so different. It was a sort of ugly brown color before, but now it''s just a time-darkened tan.

    "Jeez, that was filthy," Hunter says as he dumps the very dirty water that collected in a basin in the machine down the drain. "You''re moving in?"

    "No," I answer. "Aunt Rachel is, I''m just helping out. And I get my own room ¨C that''s the one you just cleaned. The bathroom looks clean, but I think I''m gonna give it a good scrubbing later."

    "Good idea," he chuckles as he starts rinsing out the basin in the tub. "You excited for your aunt''s move?"

    "Heck yeah!" I answer. "The basement''s big room''s gonna be a rec room for me and my friends to hang out in! And there''s a pool out back! We have to clean it and get some parts replaced, but then we''ll be able to use it!"

    "That''s cool," he says. "Dad''s been talking about moving somewhere with a pool. We actually looked at this house ¨C Dad put an offer in for it on Thursday but got outbid."

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "Seriously?" I ask.

    "Yup," he grins. "He didn''t want to spend more on it than what he''d offered because of its state, so he didn''t put in a new bid. Small world to get asked to help someone move into it!"

    "Very small world!" I agree.

    He puts the basin back into the cleaner, then pulls out the other one and fills it up.

    "Time to do the other rooms," he says.

    While he does that, his dad and I move the basement furniture into the basement, then assemble the furniture for my bedroom. With both of us working, we manage to finish it in about an hour and hour and a half even though there are four things (bed, desk, dresser, and chair). There''s no mattress for the bed, but we''re picking those up later.

    "Lunch is here," Aunt Rachel pokes her head into the room while Derrick and I are arranging the furniture. "Come on up!"

    Derrick and I finish placing the bed''s frame down where I think I''m going to keep it, then head up to the living room. The carpet in here looks lighter in color now as well, and much, much cleaner, too. Food''s spread out on the coffee table, where Tracey and Hunter are sitting.

    After we eat, Tracey leaves while Hunter stays to help us out some more. We all head to the store to buy paint. For my bedroom there, I go with a medium blue color, and a darker grey for the main part of the basement and a light grey for the trim.

    "And it really does that?" I ask.

    "Yeah," he nods. "Since the walls aren''t as bright, it''ll help make the stuff you''re watching on TV contrast better. But it was only a suggestion, S.G., so if you want something different, go ahead. It''s not like it''s my house."

    "Oh, no, I get that!" I tell him. "I think it''ll be cool! We can add color with the carpeting! And the furniture we got for the basement is green, too!"

    "Just to make sure," Aunt Rachel says. "But are those the colors you want, Sig? I''m on a limited budget even with how much I''m spending on this, so we''re not gonna repaint if you change your mind a month from now."

    "I''m positive!" I tell her. "And if I want to change the color and you''ll let me, then I can pay for it with money I earn from stuff like yards and dog-sitting and stuff!"

    "Alright," she looks a little bit uncomfortable when I say that for some reason, but quickly hides it. "Let''s take those to the desk. I''ve picked out the colors for the rest of the house. While they''re mixing it, we''ll pick out the appliances. I checked them while you were downstairs, and they''re not exactly in good condition and I''m fairly certain the fridge is a fire hazard."

    I want to know why she didn''t seem to like me saying that I could pay for it if I wanted to change the color later, but it''s probably going to be another time where she tells me not to worry about it. Or where she says she''s fine with it and it was just something else that crossed her mind, or something.

    "I''m thinking about getting a mini-fridge for the basement, too," Aunt Rachel says. "So you can keep some drinks down there."

    "Ooh! That''d be cool!"

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "Greyson?" Cal approaches. "What are you doing?"

    "Making a shock ball."

    "Before getting to that," he seems a little annoyed as he sits down. "Why are you in your swim trunks?"

    I''m currently sitting in the grass in the back yard while wearing my favorite pair of tan swim trunks with golden stripes on the sides and white swirls weaving through them. It''s a very nice day out today, so I''m working on the shock ball out here instead of inside. The parts and tools for it are spread out on a golden bath towel to keep them clean.

    "Because I want to go swimming," I tell him. "But I''m not allowed to swim in the pool without supervision, Dad told me to stay home today and not go to the secret base, and Papa left to take Henry to his therapy appointment. So I''m imagining I''m swimming right now while I work on this and waiting for Papa to return."

    "I hope you''re not imagining swimming with that in the fantasy," he points at the shock ball.

    "That would be stupid," I tell him. "It''s not complete yet."

    "Greyson¡­"

    "It''s designed to deactivate the shock while within three inches of a solid object."

    "Water''s a liquid."

    The magitech formation I''m doing won''t stop for liquids. I forgot to account for that.

    "That is another reason it is not going into the water," I tell him. "I need to make sure the enchantment for turning off when near solids is stable before I add in another factor. While I don''t have to account for things such as dust particles in the air, the liquid-detection formation will notice the water in the air and react to that."

    Cal goes quiet and contemplative for a seconds. He seems to be more interested in my magitech now than he was before seeing my workshop, and it has me curious. Maybe his interest has been piqued now that he''s seen what magitech can be like?

    "It''s not like you to stay here when you want to do something and are told to stay," he says.

    "If I leave when I''m told to stay," I say. "Dad and Papa will make me put on that evil outfit. If I refuse, or if I don''t return when they summon me, they''ll contact Grandfather Adrian, and having my mana sealed as punishment will delay my work on the betterment of the future of humanity."

    "Your mega computer?"

    "Yes."

    "What''s so special about it?"

    "It will change the world."

    "More than that, Greyson," he says. "What''s it going to do? Why do you need such a powerful computer?"

    "It''s not the strength of the computer itself," I tell him. "But what it''s going to be used for. I''ve already gotten the preliminary stages finished, so I can technically run it. I''m still optimizing some of the enchantment matrices, and there''s the issue of the power supply. Because of that, I can only do brief tests of the system, which is further delaying my ability to optimize things and see what adjustments need to be made. The computer will need to run for several days straight just for the first proper testing phase, and probably several weeks or even months for the final one."

    "Are you intending on using it nonstop over a long period of time?"

    "The expectation is that it will be used for that, yes," I answer. "I will also need to test its backup systems, fail safes, rollover functions, and so on. The goal is to design it so that it never needs to shut down, even while receiving major repairs, updates, or changes."

    "Alright," Cal says. "And again, you didn''t answer me about what the computer is for."

    "To benefit the future of humanity."

    Cal groans.

    "You''re keeping it a secret, aren''t you?"

    "There are companies with vastly more resources and brain-holders than me," I tell him. "I have just my one brain and body. If I leak even a small part of it, a bigger company with more resources may manage to make their own version of it before mine, which will diminish the public''s view of mine and turn it into a copycat."

    "Does Xander know?"

    "I haven''t told him because I know he''ll tell me to stop."

    "Greyson¡­"

    "It''s nothing evil, I promise!" I exclaim. "Xander just doesn''t understand some stuff very well because of the evil god messing with his brain and I already know he''ll misunderstand what the mega computer''s purpose is for and tell me to stop! I''ve got to wait until I can demonstrate its safety and purpose to him before telling him!"

    Cal groans again, then sighs and looks at the shock ball.

    "Okay," he says. "Moving on. What did we tell you about making weapons?"

    "It''s not a weapon," I tell him. "I''m designing it very specifically to stop sparking once it''s within three inches of something solid ¨C that includes people. In theory. Let me finish this matrix and seal it back up, then I can test it."

    "If it''s not meant for use on people," he says. "Then it won''t work on animals, right?"

    "Humans are in the animalia kingdom.

    "Other animals," he sighs. "Why are you making it?"

    "To make a ball that goes all sparky while tossed around."

    "And the reason?"

    "To have a ball that goes all sparky when tossed around."

    Cal stares at me.

    "I think it''d be fun to toss around a ball that sparks," I say. "But I know that most people wouldn''t be able to handle that, so I''m designing it to stop the sparks before contact so they don''t get shocked."

    Cal snorts.

    "I don''t have anything this evening," he says. "I''ll supervise you while you swim. Let me get changed first."

    While the rule is that we aren''t allowed to swim without supervision, that only applies to us younger boys. Cal, on the other hand, is allowed to act as a supervisor for it, so it''s within the rules.

    Applying them to me for safety reasons is stupid. The pool is more likely to vanish before I''m at risk of getting hurt or drowning. Sadly, I must abide by the rule or I''ll get punished, and I can''t leave or I''ll get punished. Refusing punishment means Grandfather Adrian steps in, and¡­ I really wish Xander didn''t ask me to acquire the power cores legitimately because of this.

    But it''ll make him happy and I don''t want to upset the god.

    I finish the part I was working on and seal the sphere while Cal heads inside, then I teleport the stuff for it back into my room while I wait for my brother to come back out. He doesn''t go straight to his room but to Travis''s first. Travis is feeling a little bit worse today than he was yesterday and so has been in bed basically all day.

    Once Cal finally comes back out, he''s wearing a pair of brown-and-green board shorts and is carrying a green bath towel, when he drapes onto one of the pool chairs. I move my towel there, but he tells me to hold on when I go to jump in.

    "Help me get the toy bin," he beckons for me to follow him.

    While I could just teleport the bin out here, I decide to follow Cal to the shed and lift one end of the pool toy bin while he lifts the other. We carry it over to near the pool, then Cal opens it up.

    "Which do you want to play with?" He asks. "There''s plenty in here."

    "Um¡­"

    There are little water balls, water guns, water torpedoes, pool balls, pool rings, and more stuffed into the box. Normally, I just like jumping in and splashing around, but I guess Cal wants to do something else. Fortunately, trying to figure out what I want to play isn''t something I need to do.

    "Leafy green boy is here."

    "Stop calling him that."

    "Cal2 is here."

    "Greyson¡­"

    "Kale is here."

    "Why do I feel like you said that with a K instead of a C?"

    "Because I did."

    Cal sighs.

    "Just because he goes by ''Cal'', too," Cal says. "That doesn''t mean you can play with his name."

    His boyfriend''s name is Caleb, but he''s gone by Cal since he was little ¨C long before he moved to the area and met Cal last winter. It can get confusing at times when people want only one of them.

    "He likes it," I say. "Also, he probably didn''t bring swim trunks, so either we can just swim naked, or he can borrow a pair of your shorts."

    "I''ll loan him a pair of my shorts," Cal says. "No swimming naked, Greyson! You''re too young for that! What if some creep sees you?"

    "I''d noticed them before they even arrive," I say. "He''s parking now. And they''d find out what I do to people who touch little boys in inappropriate ways."

    "Greyson," Cal''s voice is stern, then he huffs. "Don''t get in the pool until I''m back."

    "Yes, sir!" I salute.

    Cal shakes his head as he heads back inside, and I track him as he goes to the front door to let in his boyfriend, then they head to his room. After just a few minutes, they come out with Kale wearing a pair of Cal''s board shorts, these ones the reverse of Cal''s, with green being the primary color and brown being the secondary. Much like Cal, Kale is slim in build without much tone to his muscles.

    They should build muscle so they can punch through walls. That would be pretty cool.

    "Hello, Kale!" I wave to him.

    "Hey, Grey Boy," Kale waves back. "Cal said you''re staying home today?"

    "Grey Boy?" Cal asks.

    "It''s what he calls me," I say. "Kale! You pick what we''re playing in the pool! Oh. Travis is coming out."

    "He is?" Cal asks. "And since when are you two friends?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I thought he was going to the bathroom, but he''s passed it up. Maybe he''s delirious?"

    Travis comes out back, dressed in plain shorts and a faded white t-shirt. He''s a little on the pale side and his holding his stomach a little.

    "Cal," Travis comes over, sounding like he''s either about to cry or about to puke. "My stomach''s hurting really bad."

    Travis gets sick a lot. His natural regeneration rate is close to a normal person''s rather than a Lumarikang''s, so it''s easy for him to get sick. Actually, I think his immune system is a little bit worse.

    "How bad?" Cal frowns as he reaches out to feel Travis''s forehead. "Does it get worse when you touch a certain spot?"

    "Do you wanna join us in the pool?" I ask.

    "Greyson, not now," Cal says. "This is serious."

    "I am, too," I nod. "If you were feeling fine, Travis, would you join us in the pool?"

    "Maybe," Travis says. "But I feel really bad. Cal, can we go to the hospital."

    "Hold on," I say.

    "No, Greyson," Cal sighs, then looks at Kale. "Mind watching Greyson while I take Travis to the doctor and ask Dad to meet us there?"

    While Cal asks Kale that, I lift up Travis''s shirt and place my hand against his tummy.

    "That tickles," Travis mumbles as I leak some of my mana into him. "What are you doing, Greyson?"

    "Oh, you have appendicitis again," I say. "That explains why you''re feeling bad."

    "What?" Cal asks. "Okay, we need to go-"

    "And now you don''t."

    All three of them stare at me.

    "Now we have four people to play in the pool with!" I say. "Travis, go get changed! I wanna play the shark!"

    Travis looks at Cal.

    "The pain is gone¡­" he says. "I still feel a little queasy, though."

    "That should fade in like, five minutes," I tell him. "Maybe ten."

    "Hold on, everyone," Cal says. "You said again?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He had it last year. About this same time, too. It''s why he wasn''t feeling good right before Interception Day last year. But I cured him the morning of because he wouldn''t be able to go to the fair if he was sick and not being able to go to the fair isn''t fun."

    "I am¡­ so confused," Kale says as Travis lifts up his shirt and examines his stomach with a small frown probably wondering if there''s something wrong with him for getting appendicitis twice. "I know you''re always complaining about the Grey Boy doing his own thing with magic and magitech, but medical magic?"

    "Yeah," Cal sighs as Travis pokes where his appendix is, probably only knowing it because of the pain. "We recently learned that Greyson studies medical books, and with how good he is with magic, it really shouldn''t have surprised me that he can do proper medical magic. I thought it was just to heal himself¡­"

    "My natural regenerative rate takes care of that," I tell him. "I''m incapable of getting sick and can heal from nearly anything short of a lethal wound. Now! Let''s get in the pool! I wanna be the shark!"

    I teleport to the deep end and jump in, pulling my knees up to my chest while I''m in the air. Once I''m in the water, I let myself sink down to the floor of the pool, then adjust so my feet are flat against the bottom. Ready, I push up, rocketing up to surface. Cal and Kale are still over by Travis, though they''re looking in my direction.

    "I do still feel a little bit sick," Travis tells Cal. "So I''m gonna go lie back down."

    "Alright," Cal ruffles his hair. "Let us know if you need anything else."

    He really will feel better shortly. The appendicitis was the source of him feeling sick and I cured him of it again.

    After Travis heads back inside, Cal and Kale join me in the pool and we play some tag. It''s pretty fun, but I want to be a shark, which isn''t as fun with only three of us.

    Fortunately, Travis only lies in bed for about four minutes before getting back up, and when he comes back out here, he''s wearing his red board shorts! They have white on the bottoms of the legs and on the waist, and I like to think of them as Santa board shorts.

    He walks around to the deep end of the pool, then takes a few hurried steps to jump in.

    "Now that there are four of us, I wanna be a shark!" I say. "You all go to one end!"

    "Alright," Cal snorts as Kale chuckles. "No using magic, Greyson! Let''s keep it fair!"

    They join Travis at the deep end, then all three of them try to swim past me. I manage to get Kale out but don''t get to tag Cal and Travis as they pass. The shark has to stay in their own zone, so I can only try once they''re in it up until they''re out of it. Once he''s out, Kale sits on the edge of the pool and watches as I try to get Cal and Travis out.

    Without using magic, I can''t just guarantee success, resulting in me not managing to tag either of them on their second pass. I get Travis on the third pass, though, so Cal gets to be a shark for the next game.

    We keep playing for awhile, then split into two teams, with Cal and Travis on one and Kale and me on the other. All of our pool torpedoes are thrown into the pool, then we start racing to see which team can get the most. I want to use magic for this but that would be unfair and not very fun, so I just use my non-magical skills to try my best. A rule we put in place is that each person can only grab one at a time, and we have to set it on the pool patio, not throw it.

    That gives an added challenge and slows things down a little, but it''s really fun to try my best this way.

    Since we have an odd number of torpedoes, there''s not a possibility of a tie, either.

    "Aw," Travis says once all of the torpedoes are out of the pool. "We lost by one!"

    I must up my game.

    "By the way, Cay," Cal says as I start blowing up a pool ball. "Greyson''s going to a boarding school this coming school year."

    He tells me not to call his boyfriend by other names when his boyfriend plays along with it, yet he has his own nickname for him.

    "Really?" Kale looks at me.

    "He is?" Travis asks.

    "I guess you weren''t feeling well enough to pay attention yesterday," Cal says. "Yeah. Our biological great-grandfather showed up yesterday. He has¡­ created a deal with Greyson to add some oversight to what Greyson does but also make the way Greyson does his stuff more legal, as he''s apparently been breaking the law a lot more than we knew. Including stealing bombs."

    "It was the easiest way to acquire the explosive powder."

    "How is it easier to acquire an explosive powder by stealing a bomb from a top-secret, high-security military installation?"

    "The bomb was in a less-secure part of the facility than where they store the powder for making it was," I say. "In hindsight, that didn''t really matter as the defenses on that room are still insufficient to stop my entry, so I could''ve just taken the canister. I shouldn''t have based where I went on the security level for the storage."

    Cal slams the heel of his left hand into his forehead.

    "By the way," I say. "Papa''s pulling into the driveway now. Henry''s in a really bad mood."

    He''s always in a bad mood after his therapy appointments. Sadly, they aren''t working on trying to fix his attitude. I hope he doesn''t come out here. That would ruin everyone''s mood for the fun we''re having.

    To my relief, he goes to his room, though the speed at which he moves seems to indicate he''s stomping. Yeah, he''s in trouble.

    We all go back to playing, tossing the ball around, and Papa comes out after talking with Henry in his room for a minute.

    "Hey, Cals," Papa says as he nears the pool. "Travis? You''re feeling better?"

    "Greyson cured me because he wanted to play shark."

    "It''s not very fun if there aren''t at least four of us," I nod. "Plus, it was appendicitis again, and it''s better to just cure that than let him be treated through conventional methods."

    Papa doesn''t seem to know how to react to that.

    "I''m grilling brats for dinner," Papa tells us. "You staying, Cals, or going on a date?"

    "Brats!" I pump my fists into the air. "Can I have four?"

 Chapter 042

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "-which doesn''t make any sense, when you think about it," I say. "But I guess it''s just another case of magic doing its own thing rather than following any specific principles."

    "Probably," Tyler says. "But considering that dragons are mythical, we can''t actually know for sure how it works. Is it actually pure flight magics? Gravity manipulation? Or something else entirely? It''s that extra bit that we can''t really know, as no other creature really reaches the supposed size of a dragon."

    "Exactly!" I say. "And that''s on top of the oddity of how giant magic beasts don''t have any sort of magic running which keeps them from crushing themselves under their own weight, too, so there''s definitely something extra going on."

    "To be fair," Tyler says. "Dragons aren''t rumored to be as large as some of the bigger beasts. Like, thirty feet to the shoulders at the most. There were dinosaurs bigger than that."

    "For all we know, dragons were a type of dinosaur," I say. "Just one which left no fossils behind. But yeah, we were totally wrong when we talked about it last month. Dragons probably don''t need enhancement magics. Even if they were of such a great size, they''re dragons, the supposed peak of magical beings. If there are large beasts that would theoretically need it but don''t, then dragons definitely wouldn''t."

    "Which is why dragons might not actually need that much mana for flight," Tyler nods. "They probably fly by making magic do magic things. Which goes back into the question of what makes magic work? It''s definitely not science even if we can figure out the rules, as the rules often change randomly without any discernible reason as to why."

    "Yeah," I say. "And even Adrian King himself has directly stated that magic is something entirely separate from science. He didn''t expand on that, but considering that he''s the man who taught humanity magic and is older and more knowledgeable than anyone could ever imagine, if he says it, then it''s probably true. And it''s not like we''ve been able to put a scientific aspect to it. You change a formula slightly in a scientific medicine, you can end up with a massive difference. Then you get alchemy and can use, like, four hundred different things. Hell, I just learned earlier than magic can feel other magic and react to it even when there''s no real reason for it to be able to."

    "Sort of like magic itself having empathy magic for other magics?" Tyler asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Have you ever fought a mindpaw bear?" Tyler asks. "It can sense all other mindpaw bears in the area without using any active magics. Sort of like empathy, but their minds are basically connected, but not as a hive. It''s so strange fighting them. Dad and I had to fight some earlier this year. They ambushed us."

    "Ooh, I''ve never fought one of those before."

    "HEY!" Parker exclaims. "Luke! Tyler! You keep changing topics, like, every twenty seconds! And I can''t follow any of it! What am I even doing here?"

    "Looking pretty while we wait for our turn."

    Parker''s mouth opens and closes as his left hand shifts in the air as he attempts to come up with a response. Eventually, he settles on turning red, though it seems more like he''s embarrassed rather than angry. Weirdo.

    "Luke," Parker groans. "We''re in your backyard. We came out here to swim. What turn? You two just randomly started talking about magic and Tyler! How are you even able to keep up with him? Isn''t it a bunch of gibberish?"

    "Nope!" Tyler answers. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

    "I want to swim!" Parker exclaims, then runs to the pool and jumps in.

    We are all in our swim trunks, with Parker wearing his usual brown ones, me wearing yellow ones, and Tyler wearing blue-and-red ones. It seems Tyler and I got distracted, but Parker could have jumped in without us.

    "Alright," I run to the pool and jump, pulling my knees up to my chest as I surround myself with a spell.

    The moment I hit the water is right after Parker resurfaces, and I catch a glimpse of his eyes widening before I''m under the water. My spell caused the water in the pool to splash even more than normal. While I can''t see what happened, I know that a huge wave was formed and that it crashed right over Parker. As he tumbles, I can sense the electricity in Tyler quickly drawing nearer.

    Just as I surface, I realize that he''s cast the same spell I did. I hastily throw up a barrier so the wave parts around me, Parker still getting hit by it.

    "Argh!" Parker exclaims once he''s not being assaulted by water anymore. "No fair! I was in here first!"

    "First one in gets tidal waved twice!" I stick my tongue out at him.

    Parker twists his right hand as he pushes it toward us, and some of the water of the pool picks up and streams toward me, slamming me in the face. I could have blocked it but decided not to, opting to send the same spell at Parker just as a huge orb of water slams into the back of my head.

    As Parker dodges my own stream, he calls up an orb of water from the pool to shoot at Tyler, who sweeps a hand up in a scooping motion to draw up some water to block the attack. Tyler counterattacks with a trio of non-damaging water darts, which Parker dodges. I redirect the stream of water I''d sent at him so that it still strikes him in the face, then I sweep my left hand out to create a wall of water to block the darts from Tyler.

    Parker must think it''s not fun to have me blocking or dodging most of his attacks, since he focuses a lot on Tyler as we goof around. His efforts triple anytime Tyler and I team up against him, though return to normal once I stop and even reduce when I team up with him instead.

    Even after hanging out with Tyler, I can tell my best friend''s still not comfortable with him, since he doesn''t really team up with Tyler to try and take me on. I''d absolutely love for that. Since this is just fun play, I''m not going "all out" in the play and am doing things on a more normal level. Tyler is, too.

    But if they both came after me, I think it''d be even cooler. Parker especially, since he has less mana to start with and less control over water magics than Tyler and I do. Teaming up with Tyler for this would probably make things more fun for him.

    Not all of the water we use as we goof around comes from the pool; some of it, we conjure ourselves. The pool''s system is able to handle that and was even set up just so that it could handle a higher excess caused by water magic play. Parker can''t really conjure water that well, but he''s goofed around like this enough that he can at least use what''s already here, too, so he''s not left out.

    After a bit, Dad charges toward us while in his own yellow board shorts. He was recording us on his phone for a little while, probably to save in our memory album. That makes me happy because I''m really hopeful that Tyler isn''t just hanging out with me short-term and we do become long-term friends like Parker and I are.

    Once Dad reaches the pool, he jumps in with the same spell that Tyler and I both used when we jumped in. He wasn''t here when we first jumped in, so it''s purely just to hit us with a big splash. His cast is even stronger than how Tyler and I cast it, probably for added effect.

    "Haaah!" I thrust my hands forward, summoning up a wall of water as Tyler and Parker both cast parting spells to help deflect what gets past me. "Take down Dad!"

    The three of us team up against Dad, sending streams and darts and orbs of water at him, and summoning walls and waves of water to stop his attacks. Slowly but surely, Dad manages to take us out, binding us with ropes of water and holding us up above the surface of pool. If I really wanted to, I could break out, but this is just for fun.

    There''s no real reason for us to stop casting just because Dad''s tied us up and is holding us over the water.

    "Revenge shall be ours!" I call out as I fake-struggle against the water ropes. "Just as soon as I get down from here!"

    "Release me, foul beast!" Tyler giggles, kicking his feet as he wiggles, trying to see if he can slip free. "We won''t fall here!"

    "Death to the kraken!" Parker jerks his body as best he can. "Death to the kraken!"

    "A kraken, am I?" Dad asks, then gestures with his hands.

    The water ropes shift to resemble tentacles and a few more appear around Dad.

    "No!" We all start wiggling. "It''s gonna eat us! Help! Help!"

    Mom starts laughing from where she''s recording us, but there''s someone else with her, a guy about sixteen years old, with the same platinum-blond hair and electric blue eyes as my parents and me. He''s wearing blue board shorts with a yellow lightning pattern on the sides, and I wasn''t expecting to see him here.

    "Gabe!" I wiggle since I can''t wave. "Hiiiiiiii! What are you doing here? Dad, let us down! Gabe''s here!"

    "Let you down?" Dad grins at us.

    "Oh, no!" Parker exclaims.

    "Crap!" I say.

    "What?" Tyler asks.

    Then the water tentacles release us and we all fall into the pool from ten feet up. As soon as I surface, I start to swim to the edge.

    "Hold on," Gabe says. "Let me get a picture of the three of you."

    He was either recording or taking pictures while Dad had us up in the air, and I do want a picture of the three of us so I beckon for Tyler and Parker to come over. We swim to the edge of the pool and line up with Parker on my right and Tyler on my left, then wrap our arms across each other''s shoulders.

    "Ha on three!" I exclaim. "Three! Two! One!"

    "Haaa!" We exclaim with smiles.

    "Alright!" Gabe laughs as we start laughing. "Give me a second, Lucas."

    "It''s Luke now," I tell him as I climb out of the pool. "What''re you doing here?"

    "Who''s this?" Tyler quietly asks Parker.

    "Someone from another lightning bloodline," Parker responds. "He''s like a big brother to Luke, but doesn''t come out this way very often. He lives near the east coast"

    "There we go!" Gabe says. "I''ve uploaded all of the pics to the drive, Luke. Figured you''d want some snaps."

    "Can you get one of me and Dad?" I ask.

    "Sure," he answers, and I''m already back in the pool by the time he finishes the word. "Luke!"

    Dad''s reached this part of the pool by now, and Parker and Tyler move to the side so Gabe can get a picture of me and Dad, then Dad swaps spots so we can get a picture of me and Gabe. Dad rejoins us in the pool after that, Mom taking a picture of the three of us.

    "What are you doing here?" I ask as I jump onto Gabe''s back. "Did you come just for Interception Day? What about your mom? Did she come, too? Please say no!"

    "Luke!" Mom exclaims.

    "What?" I ask. "I always get bad vibes about her! So, Gabe?"

    "Came to hang out with my favorite cuz," Gabe reaches behind himself and tries to pull me off. "And my favorite aunt and uncle."

    While he''s not really blood family, he''s still like it to us. Even though we''re more like brothers, he calls Mom and Dad his aunt and uncle and me his cousin, but he never amends what I say when I call him my brother.

    "We''re you''re only ones!" I lean back, pulling him under the water.

    "And yet you''re not my least-favorite!" He laughs after we resurface. "Just got into town a little bit ago and came straight over. Aunt Mel, Uncle Tristan, mind if I hang out here a couple of weeks?"

    "Sure," Mom answers. "You can use your usual room. The bed might need remade, since it hasn''t been used since your last visit."

    "Thanks!" Gabe says, then looks at Tyler. "I don''t believe I know you?"

    "This is Tyler!" I tell him as Dad gets out of the pool. "He''s my new friend! Of course, you also know Parker, my best friend!"

    As I say that, I pull both of them back in so I can wrap my arms across their shoulders again.

    "And together, we''re gonna take you down!"

    I flick both of my hands up, sending streams of water from the pool in front of us at Gabe''s face.

    "Hey!" Gabe backs up as quickly as he can while pulling water up from the pool to block the attack.

    "Before you boys start that even more!" Dad calls out. "We''re going to make dinner! Gabe, make sure to wear Luke out!"

    "Ooh! I''ll help with that!" Tyler ducks out from under my arm and swims over to Gabe. "Parker! Join us! Three-against-Luke!"

    "Yeah!" I pump my left fist up into the air, pushing Parker with my right hand. "Three-v-one me!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    I''ve never been inside of a bank before. Anytime I went with Ms. Johnson when she had to go, I waited in the car so that no one would think I was trying to steal from the bank. Mr. Trey isn''t letting me wait in the car, though, so I''m holding Trenton against my chest as we enter.

    It''s not very busy, but it''s very fancy. Lots of magic in the walls, in the floors, in the ceiling¡­ even the security guards I can see and sense are strong magicians. They have at least three times as much magic as normal people do.

    There are desks off to the side, each one in front of an office, and then a counter on the left, with additional employees behind it. In the center of the room we''ve entered into are chairs and couches with small tables, both end and coffee, with plants and magazines on them.

    "Hello, Trey," a woman says as she exits one of the offices to the right. "How are you?"

    "I''m doing alright," Mr. Trey answers. "Are you free right now?

    "I am," she answers, then looks at me. "Is this handsome young man Xander?"

    Handsome? Since when am I handsome? And why would she call me that? Is she into little boys?

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "It is," Mr. Trey answers. "Xander, don''t read too much into it. Some people just compliment kids."

    That''s confusing. Why would they compliment kids just for complimenting kids?

    "Come on in to my office," the woman tells us.

    "This is Zoe," Mr. Trey tells me as we follow her¡­ not to the office she came out of. "One of the managers here."

    I nod because I feel like that''s the right response even though it''s weird. Ms. Zoe takes us upstairs in an elevator, then to a huge office. Mr. Trey tells me to sit after he and Ms. Zoe do, but is it really okay?

    "You''re not going to ruin the chair," Mr. Trey pats the chair beside his. "Come on, sit. Make sure to take your backpack off first."

    I pull off my backpack and sit, setting my backpack between my feet.

    "The check, Xander," Mr. Trey whispers to me.

    Oh, right. I pull the check out of my backpack, from the special envelope Greyson put in the front pocket forever ago to protect papers. No matter what happens to the envelope, any papers put inside remain perfectly straight and smooth, no wrinkling or bending or creasing. His magic is pretty awesome.

    "Xander gave some specialist advice to Gatewood Energy on one of their projects," Mr. Trey tells Ms. Zoe. "I could have just had it deposited with one of the tellers downstairs, since I''ve already created accounts for him, but a request I had would have necessitated getting a manager."

    "Alright," Ms. Zoe says, then looks at me. "Can I see the check, Xander?"

    I hold up the check and show it to her.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey sounds like he''s trying not to laugh, and when I look at him, he''s smiling and his shoulders are bouncing. He is trying not to laugh. What''d I do wrong? No! "That''s another way of asking for the check. They have to take it in order to perform a deposit so that they can void it out and hold it as proof they''ve received it and aren''t just transferring funds."

    My face heats up. I''m so fucking stupid.

    "You wouldn''t have known this," Mr. Trey tells me as I hold the check out so Ms. Zoe can take it. "Since you''ve never really done things with checks before. Don''t feel stupid for that, alright?"

    I can''t help but feel stupid.

    "Seeing this amount," Ms. Zoe looks at Mr. Trey. "I take it you''re wanting to know if we can make some of it available today?"

    "I know there''s usually a wait and a hold," Mr. Trey says. "And I could give Xander some money now and then take the amount out once it''s cleared, but I feel it would be better if he was able to use some of it immediately.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey looks at me again as I try to figure out what they''re talking about. "With checks, money is usually available either by the end of business day the day it''s deposited, or the day after. However, that''s for checks under a certain amount. Over a certain amount, they hold the funds until they can verify the other bank has it and the funds are transferred over. This way, if the account the funds are coming from doesn''t have enough, or the writer of the check cancels it, or it''s fraud, neither the bank nor the customer has to deal with that. How long the wait is varies and can be just a day or two, or up to a week. With a holiday tomorrow, things would also be delayed further."

    So people who get paid in big checks can''t use the money right away, they have to wait in case there''s a problem. At least, I think that''s what Mr. Trey is telling me. I nod again.

    "Alright," he says, then looks at Ms. Zoe. "Would that be possible?"

    "It would be," she tells him. "I need to check on something first, though. Do you have the information for the account it''s to go into?"

    Mr. Trey pulls out his wallet and hands her his ID and a sort of paper card that''s been laminated, then tells me to show her my ID as well. I pull it out of my wallet and stare at it for a few moments. After I stayed with Mr. Trey for a week, he took me to get a new ID so that my address would be updated.

    It feels wrong, having such a fancy house listed as my address.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey whispers.

    I was taking too long!

    I hand Ms. Zoe my ID, and she checks both of them and hands them back to us, but doesn''t hand back the other card.

    "If you''ll wait just a minute," Ms. Zoe reaches for her desk phone and makes a call.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey whispers while she does that. "Why don''t you put on your headphones or your earbuds for a little bit? Just while she makes the calls. It might be a few minutes and I''m sure you''ll only get confused."

    That means that I''m not supposed to hear what''s being said. That''s okay. I probably would get confused.

    I pull my headphones out of my backpack and pull them on, then pull out my phone, unlock it, and open up the app Ms. Katie helped me download and set up. The app is connected to the headphones, and once I''ve opened it, I press play on the audio story I was listening to before.

    "-when the lightning wolf is enraged," the narrator continues from where he left off. "This nature of the lightning wolf''s is one of the reasons why domestication of it is implausible, and why there are no dog breeds descended of them."

    The narrator is discussing lightning wolves and what is known about them. It''s sort of like a documentary, but fully audio. I might watch the lightning wolf documentary another time. Watching those seems better to me. It''s not as dull and is a lot easier for me to follow over just a voice droning on and on.

    I do, however, learn that lightning wolves seem to have sudden increases to their mana pools when they feel threatened. No one can sense an increase to them, but their mana pool drops much more slowly when casting spells, as if it''s suddenly become many times as big without appearing so.

    Mr. Trey tries to get my attention after about fifteen minutes, and I pause the audio story and pull off the headphones. Ms. Zoe is off the phone now, though she''d made several calls while I was listening. Someone else came in here a couple of minutes ago, too, but all he did was hand her a manila envelope before leaving again.

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "Learn anything interesting?"

    "Lightning wolves keep mating with water wolves for some reason," I tell him. "And that somehow makes storm wolves even though neither of those have wind magic but storm wolves do."

    "That¡­ is certainly interesting," Mr. Trey says. "Zoe''s ready now."

    Ready for what? I look at her as I clutch Trenton against my chest more tightly. Ready for beating me?

    "Xander," Ms. Zoe says. "We were able to get the funds verified and transferred. The whole balance is available now," she opens up the envelope she was handed and pulls out cash and a card. "Trey asked if we could get one grand in cash for you. The rest of it is in your bank account."

    She then counts out the money before handing it to me. There are five $100s, five $50s, ten $20s, and five $10s. Mr. Trey tells me to count it as well to verify the amount, even though Ms. Zoe already counted it and that''d be doubting an adult. Since I don''t want to get into trouble for not listening to Mr. Trey, I count the money out as well.

    "Trey also asked for us to print up your debit card now," Ms. Zoe says as she holds out a card. "You''ll need to show your ID when you use it, as it''s a minor account. The rest of your money was deposited into it, though the card currently has a limit of $250 per day."

    "That means," Mr. Trey says. "That you can use the card to spend up to $250 per day. It doesn''t roll over, so if you don''t spend any money from the card one day, you can still only spend up to $250 the next day. If there''s a time where you''re spending more, you''ll have to ask me, and I''ll contact them and have them raise the limit if I approve of the purchase."

    "The limit for minors is normally either $50 or $100 a day," Ms. Zoe tells me. "Though some families do up the limit for different reasons, including if they feel their child can use it responsibly."

    But I''m not his child, I''m his foster-child. He probably doesn''t feel that I''m responsible, either. Wait. It''s Mr. Trey who told me about the higher limit. Ms. Zoe told me that there''s normally a lower limit.

    Why would he raise the limit for me?

    "This way," Mr. Trey says. "If you''re hanging out with your friends, you don''t have to worry about restricting how much you eat as much. You can still feed yourself, and maybe buy some other stuff if you want. It''s yours to do with as you want, within the rules I gave."

    This is making my head spin. Too much talking. I understand that I can spend $250 a day using the card, though, but I''m not sure why.

    "Take the card, Xander," Mr. Trey whispers, and I do. "The money on that card is yours. It''s from the check you were given by Tristan, that you earned for helping them with their project. As long as it''s legal for you to buy, you can use it for anything you want. Just remember to follow the other rules and you''ll be fine."

    It''s really for me to spend? I look up and meet his gaze.

    "That money is yours," Mr. Trey tells me. "You''ll need my permission to spend more than your daily limit in a day, but as long as you aren''t buying stuff to cause problems or break rules, and it''s legal for you to buy it, then you can spend that money as you wish. Okay?"

    He''s being honest here. This is really mine? It''s all mine? I can spend up to $250 a day as I want? That''s¡­ how many cheesecakes is that? If it''s $20 a cheesecake, that would be¡­ uh¡­ at least twelve cheesecakes. Oh. Twelve and a half. Except I don''t think half-cheesecakes are sold for half the price but for more than half the price.

    That''s¡­ that''s a lot of cheesecakes. A day. I''m not even sure I could eat that much! Though I guess if it was other food, I could probably eat that much in cost in a day if I were eating out.

    "The limit has been increased for today as well," Mr. Trey tells me. "So that we can go shopping and you can spend some of it on stuff you want. Not food, Xander."

    "Backpacks?" I ask. "So I can try and enchant a new one to replace this one?"

    Ms. Zoe gasps when I speak for some reason, and that seems to cause Mr. Trey to chuckle.

    "We can buy you a new backpack," he says, then looks at Ms. Zoe. "Thank you, Zoe."

    "You''re welcome, Trey," she says. "Have a good day."

    "You as well," Mr. Trey tells her. "Xander, put the money away, then let''s go."

    I put the money into my backpack and the debit card and my ID into my wallet, then pull on my backpack and leave with Mr. Trey. He drives me to a store that sells MountainStorm Gear stuff so I can look at the backpacks there. How did he know I wanted to get ones from this brand?

    "Mr. Trey?" I quietly ask while looking at the backpacks.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "Can I get this one?"

    "What did I say?"

    "Um¡­ I don''t remember. I''m sorry!"

    "I said that you can spend it on what you want," he says. "As long as it''s legal and you''re not doing it to cause problems or break other rules. Does that backpack fit into any of those?"

    "No."

    "So what does that mean?"

    "I can buy it?"

    "You can buy it."

    "Okay," I hesitate. "Can I buy three? Just in case I mess up?"

    "It''s your money, Xander."

    The backpack is dark green with neon green strips on it, and I like how it looks. I put three of them into the shopping cart, then look at some of the clothes. There aren''t any long-sleeves or non-workout pants that keep a person cool as well, but I can still buy normal ones to wear around the house so I pick out some more clothes.

    This is my money. Mine. I don''t have to get permission to use it. It''s okay for me to spend it on clothes, and those clothes are mine. I earned it.

    But will the cashier let me use it? Will the card decline because I''m being tricked somehow?

    "My goodness!" The cashier says as I put stuff on the counter. "This is a lot of stuff! Did you just have a birthday?"

    "My birthday is at the end of August," I tell her. "I helped Luke with a big project of his and he paid me lots, and Mr. Trey said I can buy what I want with it as long as I''m not breaking the law or doing it to cause problems or break rules. My backpack is getting really worn out, and I want some new clothes."

    "That''s nice," she says. "Is it okay if I ask who Luke is?"

    "It is," I tell her.

    Wait. Maybe this is one of those cases where she''s asking who Luke is, not for permission to ask that.

    "He''s a neighbor," I tell her. "He''s about a year older than me. Very noisy."

    "He''s a year older?" She asks. "And paid you a lot for a project? What sort of project?"

    "I think he''s nine months older than me?" I answer. "Sorry for being wrong. It''s not a year. November and August. But we''re in the same grade. We don''t go to the same school, though. He goes to a private one and I''m going to go to Dragon Falls Middle School. And this is Mr. Trey. He''s my foster-dad. He said I could spend the money on whatever I wanted as long as it''s not illegal or to break rules or cause problems, since I earned it. But he said not on food. I wanted to spend it on food. We''re having an argument on that because I eat a lot and don''t want him going broke trying to feed me. But I haven''t gotten into trouble for arguing with an adult. I''m worried I will, but he just goes ''no, Xander, stop worrying about how much I''m spending on feeding you'' and ''just eat how much you need, Xander'' and ''I bought you a second popcorn maker just so you can have separate ones for buttered and unbuttered, Xander, do you really think I''m worried about how much it costs to feed you?'' It''s really weird that he keeps telling me ''no'' and I''m not getting into trouble. Do you think that''s weird?"

    She looks at Mr. Trey, who''s covering his mouth while his shoulders are shaking. When she doesn''t answer me, I think that means she''s not entirely sure.

    "I think it''s weird," I say.

    Mr. Trey laughs.

    "Do you eat a lot?" The cashier asks.

    "Lots," I nod. "Like, when we go to a restaurant and they don''t know me, they think I''m not going to eat everything I order. But then I do and they''re all like ''where are you putting all of that food'' and it should be obvious it''s going into me¡­ I''m not Greyson. I can''t just teleport it away."

    "Who''s Greyson?"

    "He''s a dork."

    "A dork?" She frowns a little.

    "Yeah," I nod. "A big one. Not ''big'' as in ''he''s big'' but as in ''he''s sometimes too much of a dork''. I met him a few years ago. He likes doing magitech stuff. And magic in general. And griffins. Not doing them, that would be inappropriate. He just likes griffins. Like, the other day, he went up to the North Pole and befriended an arctic griffin and rode around on it for a bit. That seemed kind of fun."

    "Hold on," Mr. Trey interrupts, but that seems directed at the cashier, who''s still scanning my things. He looks at me. "Xander, when did you put swim trunks in the cart?"

    She''s taking a lot of time to scan stuff, inspecting them and their tags, double-checking the tags and looking at the register for each scan, taking her time removing security tags¡­ it''s weird. She doesn''t seem slow, so I think she''s just trying to give time since I''m talking a lot to answer her questions.

    Oh. I''m rambling. But it''s not like Luke does, and I still need to answer Mr. Trey.

    "I tried them on while you were in the restroom," I tell him. "I like their green. And I was thinking, I could use the other ones for when I''m doing my swimming lessons, and then that pair while I''m swimming in the pool for not-lessons, and then¡­ where''s the other pair? This pair here for when I''m swimming in something like a pond or a lake, like I was doing with S.G. and them yesterday. And look. I''m getting duplicates, just in case. Sort of like how there are two pairs of swim trunks for the swimming lessons. Was that wrong?"

    "It''s your money," he says. "You can spend it how you wish, Xander."

    "But not on food."

    "But not on food."

    "What if it''s magic food?" I ask. "I like the taste better, and it''ll even help me recover my mana a bit better. But you don''t need that since you don''t use magic, so it''d be a waste of money for you, right?"

    "Did you have anything in particular you were thinking of?"

    "Heavy cream, milk, sugar, vanilla, and salt," I answer. "And maybe blueberries and strawberries."

    "Why do I get the feeling those are the ingredients for ice cream?"

    "Because they are," I say. "Oh! But then if it''s ice cream, maybe also pie or cobbler. That needs¡­ I think flour and butter and eggs. Can we ask Ms. Katie to help us?"

    "We can," Mr. Trey tells me. "Are you asking about making it, or are you wanting to know if Katie can come and join us for getting the ingredients?"

    "She''s the one teaching me," I say. "So she knows the recipes better than I do. I don''t clearly remember the stuff for pie and cobbler."

    "Alright," he says. "I''ll ask if she can meet us."

    "Thank you," I say. "And I''ll pay for dinner today. I want to celebrate getting paid. I wasn''t expecting to get to help Luke with a project, and he even said he''d just intended to show me how he makes remote-controlled cars."

    Only as I say that do I really start to understand what happened. I earned half a million dollars today. Half a million dollars. And it''s not just because of how my magesight works, but because I actually knew how to fix the problem Luke was facing. A problem that I might have been maybe one of three people in the world who could help with.

    Maybe¡­ I''m not so worthless, after all? But I''m still stupid.

    "Oh!" I realize something. "Mr. Trey? Do you think Luke will let me see him make a remote-controlled car another time? I wanna see the difference between how he makes them and how Greyson does. There will probably be fewer explosions."

    "Probably," Mr. Trey says. "And¡­ probably."

    "Explosions?" The cashier asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Greyson''s a big dork. And it''s not even wrong to call him that because he says it''s okay to. He knows he''s a dork. In fact, I forgot his name after meeting him and accidentally called him a dork and instead of getting mad at me, he told me to just call him a dork from then on. It took more than three years before I finally learned his name again because he refused to tell me so that I''d keep calling him a dork. But then I bribed him into telling me on Saturday by telling him I wouldn''t accept his help with my broke brain unless he told me."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "There''s something there that we need to address, Xander. But for now, let''s finish the transaction."

    "Okay."

    "You mentioned an S.G.?" The cashier says. "Is that another friend?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I kept seeing him when I went bowling, and then he and his friends started talking with me last month. Now we hang out. They''re all gonna be in eighth grade this coming school year, too. They''re kind of noisy, but also kind of goofy. I like hanging out with them. They even invite me to sleepovers. They''re the first to ever do that. Well, Luke wanted to invite me once, before them, but I was already asleep at that point so it doesn''t count."

    "You go bowling?" The cashier asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I started about a year and a half ago. Maybe a little bit longer? I don''t remember clearly. S.G. started going a little while after and was usually two lanes down from where I was. It was him and Connor. Then Sam moved into the area back in November and he started coming, too. Then they met Isaac earlier this year, and he started coming. They''re all really good at bowling, too. The best on the school''s team apparently can''t even reach a 200, while they''re all usually around 200 to 275 if they''re actually trying. That''s apparently really impressive for a thirteen-year-old, and there are four of them doing that."

    The cashier stops asking questions after that and speeds up her ringing me up to a more normal pace. Once that''s done, Mr. Trey teaches me how to use the debit card, and whispers into my ear the PIN for it, which I have to put in to confirm the transaction. Then, the cashier has to scan my ID, and only after that is the transaction done. All of my purchases are put into bags that Mr. Trey brought in with us, and the cashier hands me the receipt.

    Mr. Trey and I head to the car and put the bags in the back seat, then Mr. Trey starts driving us away.

    "Before you start getting upset," Mr. Trey says. "I want you to at least explain what happened Saturday. You keep evading actually explaining, and I think it''s time you told me more."

    Letting that little bit out in the store was on purpose. I figured the cashier would just think I''m a weird kid, and that Mr. Trey would start the conversation once we got in the car. I also knew that I''d struggle to start the conversation on my own, but it''s important that he knows because of something Greyson texted me earlier.

    "I know," I sigh. "Sorry for not telling you the full truth, Mr. Trey. But I was scared. But Greyson says that he had to spill the blueberries to Grandpa Adrian, who''s going to be paying us a visit after looking into me due to you reaching out to ask him for help regarding my broke brain."

    "Grandpa Adrian?"

    "Yeah," I sigh again. "So apparently, I''m one of the Lumaria Kings, and the reason I was struggling with using magic was because I was subconsciously casting several ridiculously high-level spells in order to keep myself alive, including repairing the staples that kept my soul attached to my body and having a magical brain to take the place of my physical one."

    "I''m going to need you to go back to the beginning."

    "Okay, so when I was four years old¡­"

 Chapter 0043

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey asks as he looks down at me.

    He''s still in his pajamas, but that''s normal. I was expecting him to come out fully dressed since today''s a holiday. I''m still in my pajamas, though, since I wasn''t told to get dressed before coming down for today. That probably should have been a sign it wasn''t necessary, but I am still stupid, even if my brain''s been fixed.

    It doesn''t seem like Mr. Trey''s annoyed, either. Yesterday, after I told him everything I learned about myself, he was surprised. He also admitted that he had a suspicion that it might have been something like that, which was part of why he wanted to talk with my great-grandpa. If I really did have some sort of magic keeping me alive, and from such severe brain damage, he felt it would be best if a real expert in magic took a look to try and help me.

    And that led him to realize that I probably was one of my great-grandpa''s descendants.

    "Good morning, Mr. Trey," I greet him.

    "You''re spread out on the living room floor again."

    "I''m sorry."

    "You''re not in trouble," he says. "I''m just surprised¡­ it''s quite early. I know you''re normally awake by now, but you usually wait in your room until it''s time to come down so you can be at the table at almost exactly seven."

    "Am I not in trouble for that, too?"

    "You''re not," he says. "Are you okay?"

    "That depends on various things," I say. "So I can''t really answer that question without more information."

    "Mind if I ask what you''re thinking about?"

    "No."

    Wait. This is one of those times where he''s asking me about what I''m thinking about, and it''s okay to say I don''t want him to if I don''t.

    "Breakfast," I add.

    "Breakfast?"

    "Breakfast."

    "What about it?"

    "Well," I say. "It''s a holiday, right? At the boys'' home, they always try to theme the breakfast to it. Cheap decorations and some food dyes to alter colors, like making blue or green pancakes. Some of the other boys got to help make the dyes. It was one of the things the home would splurge on, to celebrate."

    The colors for Interception Day are blue, green, and gold. Blue and green to represent the seas and forests and plains of the world, and gold to represent our sun. The world that was saved by the interception of the demon army. It''s not like Memorial Day or Labor Day, where the colors are our nation''s of red, white, and blue, even if it''s a national holiday. I don''t really understand it, just that it has something to do with how it might have been our nation (and Canada) that did it, but that doing so also saved the world itself.

    "You were wondering if we were going to do something?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "But then I remembered that Ms. Katie is probably off today, because it''s a holiday, right? So then I was thinking that maybe it would be something store-bought instead. Like from Ms. Heidi''s donut shop. She does green, blue, and gold incing on some of the donuts for Interception Day. Oh. And sprinkles."

    "Katie''s going to make breakfast," Mr. Trey tells me. "She has the rest of the day off, though. What sounded good to you?"

    "I was thinking about blueberry-banana muffins with chopped walnuts on them," I say. "And then green icing. But we don''t have bananas good for that and I don''t know how to accelerate time like Greyson does."

    Mr. Trey sits down beside me, frowning slightly.

    "I''m sorry."

    "You''re not in trouble," he snorts. "Xander, you''ve been adamant about not wanting to learn magic because you''re worried about being milked for money. That comment made it sound like you''d be okay with learning how to accelerate time."

    "It still makes me nervous," I tell him. "But¡­ Greyson is scared of Grandpa Adrian, and he also says that Grandpa Adrian doesn''t like people messing with his descendants. So while I''m scared, I also know that Grandpa Adrian will probably smite anyone who tries to milk me for money. Also, if I''m really stronger than Greyson, which he claims I am by about ten percent, then once I learn magic, I could probably also smite anyone who tries to milk me for money. Also teleport away."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments with a small frown.

    "Sorry."

    "You didn''t do anything wrong," he says. "You said yesterday that the reason you struggle with casting magic is because of the spells you''re subconsciously supporting, right? That it takes up your casting ability?"

    "Right," I say. "Though it probably won''t be as hard for me to learn now. Look. Um. Actually. Please hold on for a moment."

    I sit myself up and then look at the coffee table, which has some books and a box of tissues and a small pot with a plant on it. Then, I inhale deeply and focus on one of the books, which opens up and starts flipping pages.

    "Telekinesis?" Mr. Trey asks. "You''ve figured out telekinesis? Wouldn''t it still be hard to use, though?"

    "It''s not telekinesis," I tell him. "It''s the animation spell that I subconsciously use to move my body when it doesn''t want to move. I was trying to sense the spells and turn them off and found that one. So now I''m burning less mana each moment than I was before. Except when I''m casting that spell, but I think I figured out how to use less mana for it, too. And it''s freed up some of my casting ability, too."

    The pages start flipping back in reverse order and once they''re all stacked again, the cover closes.

    "Also," I say. "I found the spell that lets my body grow as normal. Since my brain is fixed up again, I don''t think I need that spell, so I turned it off. That''s more mana that''s not being burned each moment. I can even feel myself regenerating it. There''s so little¡­ but then again, it''s probably ''cause I regenerate so much and can hold so much. It''s like¡­ it''s like¡­ um¡­ a cup compared to a huge pond. It''s only a small amount each second, but it''s about half as much as a normal person can hold. At least, according to the dork. If I''m remembering correctly. Of course, since some of my mana is used up to maintain other spells, I don''t actually get to keep all of the mana I recover. But I''m recovering some for sure."

    "I¡­ see," he says. "Did you find any other spells?"

    "Yeah," I scoot so I''m facing him rather than the coffee table. "Possibly unrelated, if someone has super regeneration, is it possible they would need glasses? Or would that be impossible?"

    "Depends on the cause," Mr. Trey snorts. "If it''s damage-caused, then probably not for more than a short while as their eyes would heal. However, a more normal cause of needing glasses is the shape of one''s eyes. I don''t remember the full explanation, but I do know that needing glasses is normally caused by the shape of one''s eyes. That probably wouldn''t count as damage."

    "Ah."

    I don''t know what to say next and so remain silent as I try to figure out what to say. Mr. Trey is the one who breaks the silence, after seven seconds.

    "Xander," he says. "Do you need glasses?"

    "Well, need is probably not the right word," I say. "Do glasses make everything clear to see?"

    "If the prescription is right."

    "Hm¡­" I think for a few moments, then lean back so I end up lying down again, and stretch out my arms and legs. "Another spell I found changes my vision. But it doesn''t make everything clear. I actually found it first. It was just focused on my eyes and after I turned it off, everything got blurrier."

    "Blurrier?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "See, I thought that puberty was the reason my vision got all wonky, ''cause I started it when I was, like, nine and my vision started getting odd when I was ten. I thought it was just normal and that''s how people see stuff as they go through puberty and after since I''d heard that people''s vision gets blurry as they age. It''s like, um¡­ it''s hard to describe. But it''s like everything is clear but blurry at the same time. As it turns out, I had a second version of sight active and it was o-over-inter-"

    "Overlapping?" Mr. Trey asks. "Overlaid? Interposed? Superimposed?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I just thought it was normal. But it was apparently because of a spell. And when I turn it off, poof! Things are blurry. But only after a bit of a distance. So if I hold my hand up like this," I hold my right hand up, my arm stretched as far as it can go. "It''s a little bit blurry, but not as blurry as, like your face. You''re a bit further than my hand."

    I drop my hand back down to the ground.

    "So I think I should wear glasses until I can figure out if there''s a way to fix my eyes. Or to make the magic eyesight override my normal one."

    "Okay," he says. "By the way, I have a good surprise you."

    He''s specifying it''s a good one, which means he wants to make sure I know I''m not in trouble or getting sent back to the home as the surprise.

    "It''s a good one?" I look in his eyes.

    "It is."

    "Okay," I sit up. "Can I ask what it is? Or is it too early?"

    His phone beeps, and he pulls it out of his pajama pants'' pocket and checks it.

    "The surprise is here," he says. "Come on."

    He stands, so I stand and follow him. Mr. Trey takes me to the front doors and when he opens it, Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell are on the other side. Grandpa Caldwell is holding a paper shopping bag for some reason.

    "Hello, Xander!" Grandma Caldwell greets me. "How are you?"

    "Hungry," I answer. "But it''s not time for breakfast yet. How are you?"

    "I''m doing alright," she chuckles.

    "Come on in," Mr. Trey tells his parents, and we move to the side so they can enter. "Did you bring the thing I asked for?"

    "In the bag," Grandpa Caldwell answers.

    "Good morning," Ms. Katie approaches us, having just come downstairs.

    "Hello, Katie," Grandpa Caldwell offers her the bag. "Trey wanted us to grab something on the way in, he said you knew?"

    "Oh, yes," she takes the bag. "Xander? Want to come to the kitchen and help me make breakfast?"

    "Is that okay?" I look up at Mr. Trey.

    "Yes," Mr. Trey tells me. "Do you still have the vision thing off?"

    "I do."

    "You can use it if you want," he tells me. "Since it seems to help a little."

    "Okay."

    "Vision thing?" Grandma Caldwell asks.

    "Is it okay if I tell my parents?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Why ask me that? It''s not like I can stop him.

    "Do you mind if I tell my parents?" Mr. Trey changes the question.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ maybe? If they won''t try to milk me."

    What should be the first spell I learn to defend myself with?

    "They won''t," he chuckles. "Go on and help Katie with breakfast."

    "Okay."

    I follow Ms. Katie to the kitchen and when we arrive, she pulls ripe bananas out of the bag.

    "Ripe bananas?" I look at them, a little confused by that.

    Did Mr. Trey tell his parents weeks ago to set bananas aside to ripen for this?

    "There are places which sell them ripened up for baking," Ms. Katie tells me. "Trey asked his parents if they''d buy some on their way in so we could do banana muffins for breakfast."

    "Oh," I say. "They really have places that sell them?"

    "They do," she says.

    "What if they don''t sell all of them before they go from properly ripe to bad?"

    "They use what doesn''t get sold to bake goods," she tells me. "These ones are bananas grown in an area rich with mana, so they''re magic bananas. We''re doing a special breakfast for the holiday."

    Ms. Katie has me pull on my apron and wash my hands while she does the same with her apron and hands, then we start making breakfast. It''s blueberry-banana muffins with chopped walnuts on top, sausage links, eggs, and a salad of green grapes, blue grapes, kiwi, and blueberries. I get to measure and mix stuff and pour the muffin batter into the baking tin, and I even get to peel and slice the kiwis.

    It''s the first time she''s let me cut stuff fully by myself, and I make sure to do my best to be careful so that I don''t cut myself or make the pieces uneven.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says after we finish eating. "Are you wanting to go to the barbecue at Connor''s house?"

    "You have plans, don''t you?"

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "I''m going to a higher-end party, yes," he says. "But it''s going to be filled with a lot of wealthy people and their children. It will be pretty crowded and probably noisy. And I''m sure you''d be bored there even if it wasn''t."

    "So it''s okay for me to go to Connor''s house for the barbecue?"

    "It is," he says.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ yes, please."

    "Alright," he says. "It might be a bit crowded and noisy there, too. If you need to take a few minutes to calm down, I''m sure they''ll understand and let you go to a quiet room. If things are too much and you want to leave, Quinn will be nearby so you can ask him to pick you up. And if you want to go to Greyson''s workshop after, you''re welcome to. If you want to go bowling tonight as well, you can still go. I checked and they''re still open."

    "S.G. and them might ask if I want to spend the night," I tell him. "S.G.''s aunt moved into a new house yesterday, and the others are all spending the night there tonight and will be helping clean up the backyard tomorrow. S.G. was painting yesterday. He uploaded pictures to the group chat."

    "You''re wanting to know if you can spend the night?"

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "I know you''ve told me before I could if I wanted to, but that was for past ones. And today''s a holiday. And I have classes tomorrow."

    "You can skip classes tomorrow if you want," Mr. Trey says. "If they ask you if you want to spend the night tonight, you can."

    "Okay," I say. "They haven''t asked me specifically, but S.G. asked in the group chat yesterday if anyone wanted to spend the night. So I think that includes me, but I''m not sure."

    Mr. Trey snorts.

    "Why don''t you go do your thing," he tells me. "And get ready to go. Pack whatever you want to pack for the day, including for the sleepover if you decide you want to go."

    "I want to try and brave it."

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "And remember that you can call or text any of us to come pick you up if you want."

    "Okay."

    "Go on," he says.

    "Okay," I say. "Hi again, Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell."

    I head up to the bedroom I''m staying in and pack my old backpack and my three new ones, just in case. Mr. Trey made it sound like we''re leaving soon. Since I probably will end up going to Greyson''s workshop, I want to bring the new backpacks so I can try and enchant them to have bigger spaces.

    When I return downstairs, Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are both dressed, though Mr. Trey is dressed and ready to go, and Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell look ready to go, too.

    It''s probably a good thing I brought down all four backpacks.

    "There''s an eyewear place that''s open this morning," Mr. Trey tells me as we get into his SUV, with me getting to sit in the front passenger seat so that Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell can sit together in the back. "And they use magitech to make the glasses quickly. We''ll head there so you can get glasses quickly, okay, Xander?"

    "Okay," I say.

    It feels weird, sitting in the front seat. I''m not supposed to since I''m under thirteen, but Mr. Trey says that there''s no law forbidding a twelve-year-old from sitting in the front here. At least, not one in this state.

    When we reach the eye place, there are only two other cars in the parking lot, and only one person in the lobby, a woman sitting behind a desk. Lots of glasses sit in displays along the walls and in the middle of the left side of the room, though there aren''t any on the front wall or by the desks against the wall immediately to the right when we enter.

    "Hello," Mr. Trey greets the woman, who''s at the big desk in front of the front wall. "My name is Trey Caldwell, I called a little bit ago about making an appointment."

    "Yes," she picks up a clipboard. "If you can just fill out the information on here, we can get that put in and the appointment started."

    "Go ahead and look at the glasses," Mr. Trey tells me. "See if there are any you like the look of, and it''s okay to like several pairs. Take a look at the sunglasses, too. Once you''ve picked them out, we can narrow them down to the ones you''ll be getting. And Xander?"

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "Don''t worry about the price tag," he says. "The insurance plan I put you on will cover both a pair of regular glasses, a pair of sunglasses, and a pair of spares for each. So we aren''t paying a penny."

    "Isn''t that stealing?"

    "No," the employee tells me. "Insurance is something someone pays into every month, and it helps cover certain expenses as needed. Medical insurance plans can cover vision and dental plans. Instead of billing your dad, we''ll bill the insurance company and they''ll cover the cost."

    "It''s a little more nuanced than that," Mr. Trey tells me. "But that''s the simple version."

    "Oh."

    "Depending on the plan," the employee looks at Mr. Trey. "It might also cover prescription swim goggles."

    "It does," Mr. Trey looks at me. "Forgot about that one, Xander. You can also look at swim goggles if you want. I''m going to fill this out now."

    "If you want some help," the employee tells me. "Just let me know. You can try on any of the glasses if you want, but don''t put them back on the racks. See that desk there?"

    She points at a desk, and I nod.

    "Put all of the ones you try on there," she tells me. "And the ones you''re thinking about getting can be put there as well, just keep them separate, alright?"

    Why does she want me to put them all there?

    "You can ask her," Mr. Trey nudges my arm, causing me to flinch. "Sorry, bud. You can ask her."

    "You''ve got a question?" The employee asks.

    "Um¡­ why do you want me to put all of the ones I try there?" I ask. "Not just the ones I want to think about getting? Can I put them back on the racks?"

    "We sanitize them to ensure they''re clean for the next customer," she tells me.

    "Oh," I say. "Okay."

    "Go on and look at the glasses," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "Are you okay with us helping you?" Grandpa Caldwell asks.

    "Um¡­ maybe."

    I look for the section labeled Youth, then start looking at the glasses. Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell pick out a few pairs for me to try, but I don''t really like those ones even before I try them on. A couple of pairs I try on, I do like. One has a fully plastic frame, while the other one has plastic legs, but metal for the parts around the lenses and to connect them together.

    Before I can finish looking at the glasses for youth, they''re ready for the exam itself. The start for it involves me sitting in a dim room with another employee, who first uses a machine to puff air into each eye.

    "Ready?" She asks while my left eye is the one focused on. "Three¡­ two¡­ one."

    Puff!

    My head jerks back when that happens and I blink a few times, then shake my head. Time for the right eye. She puffs that one, too, and I still jerk back in response.

    For the next part, I have to put my head up to another machine and light is shined into each eye. It''s really hard not to pull my head back once that starts for the left eye, and I have to put up with it for my right eye, too. Then, she has me look at a picture of a barn through another machine, once for each eye. Identify colors and let her know what I can see in the color field. This one''s to test for color blindness. After that, I have to tell her where dots are located when looking into a machine.

    After that, I have to sit in another room with another person, who''s apparently the actual eye doctor. He puts a big device up against my head and then starts flipping through lenses. As he does that, I have to tell him which one is clear between two choices. He does this first for my left eye for a bit, then for my right eye. Then, he does it for both eyes, but the choices on this one are more like the later choices for the individual eyes, which are more clear to me.

    "Okay," he says as he flips a switch on something, and rows of letters in decreasing size as they go down the sign appears. "Read the second row?"

    I read the second row, then the fifth, then the fourth, then the first, then the third, then the sixth, then the seventh.

    "Alright," the eye doctor says. "We''re done with the exam."

    "Okay."

    I walk with him and Mr. Caldwell out to the front, and start looking at more glasses options. I don''t really see others that interest me as much as the two I picked before the exam, so I move on to the swim goggles. They have MountainStorm Gear swim goggles, including a pair with dark green frames and strap and the logo in black, and black frames and straps with the logo in bright green.

    "You want these ones?" Mr. Trey asks after I try them on, and I nod. "Alright. Let''s look at sunglasses now."

    We go to the section with sunglasses for youth, and they have MountainStorm Gear ones in a lot of styles. I like the ones with the black and green frames and the dark green and light green frames. They look really cool.

    "Aren''t sunglasses for cool people?" I ask Mr. Trey.

    "Not just cool people," he says as his parents chuckle. "They help protect your eyes from the sun and make it easier to see in bright light. Let''s take these to the desk so I can pay."

    "Okay."

    We go to the desk that I was to take the glasses I want to, where the first employee is sitting. There''s a lot of stuff involved in this part, including measuring my eyes to make sure that the lenses are made properly, in case my eyes are a different distance apart from normal.

    "You said on the phone you make them on-site?" Mr. Trey asks once everything for this part is done.

    "Yes," the employee tells us. "We can have them ready in about an hour and will call you when they''re done, so you don''t need to stay here and wait."

    They can make two pairs of glasses, two pairs of sunglasses, and two pairs of swim goggles in about an hour? That''s a lot faster than I was expecting.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Thanks. We''ll go take a look at some of the nearby shops."

    "Mr. Trey?" I ask as we get up.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "Do you think the ice cream shop down the road is open?"

    "We can check," he chuckles.

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years] ¡ú starts around the beginning of Xander''s PoV

    "Greyson," Travis groans. "Stop poking me and let me sleep."

    "Meet me in the bathroom."

    "No."

    "It''s so I can dye your hair," I tell him. "We''ll be in the tub so be prepared for that."

    Travis groans again, then I teleport into the tub and make sure I have everything prepared. Swim trunks on, shampoo/conditioner combo ready, dye set up¡­ perfect! No one messed with anything while I was waking Travis.

    After a couple of minutes, Travis comes into the bathroom wearing a pair of swim trunks, then climbs into the bath tub and sits in front of me.

    "Don''t make the water too hot this time," he says. "You did that for Memorial Day."

    "Sorry."

    I start to conjure water and before I use it to clean his hair, I decide that it might be best to test the temperature on him first.

    "Is this too hot?" I touch some of the water to his right shoulder for a few seconds.

    "A little."

    "How about now?" I move the water down so it''s touching a spot that wasn''t already heated up by the first test.

    "That''s fine."

    "Okay."

    I clean his hair with the shampoo-conditioner combo and conjured water, making sure to rinse it clean. Some dyes want you to do it with hair that hasn''t been washed in a day or two, but I don''t use such stupid, mundane dyes. The ones I use, I make myself and they work better with clean hair.

    They''re also temporary dye. Got into trouble for using more permanent dyes for holiday hair in the past. I might have forgotten that the others cannot simply eliminate the dye from their hair like I can. That required reformulating the dye so that it still comes out looking as good, but can also be washed out with normal shampoo.

    Mine is already dyed, the hair on top brushed to the right and dyed in three strips, with the front third blue, the middle third gold, and the last third green. Travis prefers to have his hair brushed up into a mini-mohawk for this, so I do the left half green, the right-half blue, and the tips gold.

    "You didn''t make any funny drawings on my back again, did you?" Travis asks as I flow water over him to get the dye water off of everything but his hair. "I felt you drawing."

    "With my finger, not with dye or magic," I say. "So there are no markings. And they weren''t funny. I was drawing a griffin."

    "Oh," he''s quiet for a moment. "Greyson?"

    "Yes?"

    "The water is lingering on my sides too much," he says. "You stopped everywhere else. And it''s rippling. Are you trying to tickle me with the water?"

    "It''s not working, is it?"

    "It''s not."

    One day, I will figure out how to properly tickle Travis. Then, I will have revenge for all of the tickling he gave me when we were littler.

    "Am I done?" Travis asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "I already did Cal''s, too, so that''s all of us."

    "What about Henry?"

    "He''s not being let off the grounding."

    Henry got super grounded yesterday because of what he said to Papa after his therapy appointment. For two whole weeks, he''s not allowed to go out, play video games, watch TV, get on his computer, get on his phone, have friends over (as if he has any), or anything like that. Just chores, reading, and academic worksheets. The most he''s ever been given is one week of grounding so he really screwed up.

    "Besides," I say. "I never dye his hair. He''s too much of a brat to me."

    "You''re a brat, too," Travis says.

    "But I''m not a jerk," I poke him in the sides. "Get up, I need to put my stuff away, then I''m going to the festival."

    "Isn''t it, like, six-twenty in the morning?" He asks as he gets out of the tub.

    "Well, yeah," I say. "But some of them are already open on the east coast since some of those ones opened up at eight."

    "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

    "I made myself pancakes and sausages and bacon and eggs and donuts," I tell him. "I think Dad''s going to start cooking soon since we''re all up except for Henry."

    "And how many of us were woken by you?"

    "Everyone except Henry and myself."

    Travis shakes his head as he leaves the room, and I clean up my stuff and return to my room to change. For the holiday, I wear blue shorts with golden stripes down the sides, a green sleeveless shirt with golden stripes down the sides, and blue-and-green sneakers with golden laces. Then, I slip on sunglasses, grab my wallet, phone, keys, and backpack, and head to the kitchen, where Dad and Papa are talking while Cal and Travis are talking in the living room.

    "I''m heading to the fair," I tell Dad and Papa.

    "Don''t get into any trouble," Dad tells me.

    "And no breaking the law!" Papa adds.

    "I have zero intention of doing either of those," I tell them. "Today is a holiday and there are fairs to attend."

    I teleport to my first fair of the day, straight to the ticket desk. There''s already a small line formed, so I go to the end and wait until it''s my turn.

    "How many tickets would you like?" The woman whose station I reach asks.

    "I would like to buy the bracelet," I tell her as I put a $50 on the table, then I put another down. "And as many tickets as the change will allow."

    "Okay," she seems a little surprised, but takes both bills and sets them on top of her cash box before grabbing a bracelet and counting out tickets. "Here you go."

    The bracelet is green, while the tickets are blue. I put the former on around my right wrist as she puts the cash in the cash box, then I slip the tickets into my left pocket and enter the fair. My first destination is the Ferris wheel. With how few people are here right now, it''s easy for me to get on it quickly.

    This is a high-quality magitech Ferris wheel, but it doesn''t go as fast as I wish it would. It''s still fun, though, and I get off feeling bouncy so I bounce a little as I walk. I ride on a few more of the rides set up, then get some funnel cake with powdered sugar and strawberries on top and eat it as I look at the different game booths.

    They have a darts game for throwing darts to pop balloons, and that seems fun. There''s another boy there already, just starting his turn. He''s got brown hair, blue eyes, and some freckles on his cheeks. An ordinary-looking kid dressed in blue shorts and a green sleeveless, from the same brand I''m wearing.

    He''s got good tastes, but he''s not ordinary when considering how powerful he is. On the ordinary scale of magic, he''s got 317 units of mana. If the man and woman watching him are his parents, then he didn''t inherit that from them because they have more normal levels of mana.

    The man''s recording the other boy, who has a camera hanging from a strap around his neck.

    I watch as the boy throws his first dart, and it misses the balloon he was aiming for, bouncing off the board the balloons are taped to. His second one misses as well, and I realize that he might not have been aiming for the blue one the first dart landed near, as this one is close to a golden one. Each balloon color has a different pool of prizes, with the exact prize determined by a tag inside of the balloon.

    The golden balloons have tags for stuffed animals. Maybe I should try and get one for Xander? He likes plushies and there''s only a 0.0041% chance of him going to a fair today. The most likely reason for him to attend that I can think of would be to get food, but even that''s an extremely low chance.

    There are other, less-crowded places to go for food. Yeah. I should try and win him a plushie so that he can have something from a fair.

    One of the plushies that''s a potential prize for this stall is a winter bear one, and I think he''d like that. I still need to determine the best way to apologize to him for not realizing he was unaware of the spells he was casting, too.

    Cody ¨C that''s what the other boy''s parents call him ¨C finishes throwing his three darts, but fails to succeed in popping a balloon, then it''s my turn.

    "Here''s a ticket," I hand it to the woman working the booth. "It''s three darts, right?"

    "Per ticket, yes," she says. "Take any three you want."

    I pick out three yellow darts, then step to the side. The other boy is watching, probably wanting another turn.

    This wouldn''t be fun if I do it with magic, so I avoid doing that and make sure to hold back my strength as well. I learned the hard way that I can break both the cheap darts and the boards the balloons are stuck to if I don''t.

    My first dart misses the golden balloon I aimed at, and my second one bounces off of it. I''ve adjusted to the feel of the darts, though, and manage to pop the balloon on my third try.

    "Yes!" I pump my fists into the air, then lean over the counter to try and see the tag, but it''s upside-down. "What''s the tag?"

    "Let me check," the worker tells me, then picks it up and examines it. "It''s for an octopus plush."

    Ooh! Travis likes octopuses! I can give him this.

    "Hey, hey!" Cody exclaims. "That was pretty cool!"

    "Thanks," I say. "Are you going to try again?"

    "Yeah," he nods, then grabs his camera. "Can I take a picture of you and the octopus?"

    "How come?"

    "I like taking pictures of cool things."

    Maybe he works for the Faction?

    "Do you work for the Faction?"

    "What''s that?" He asks.

    "A secret organization of evil people who want to stop me from making the world a better place."

    "I''m ten."

    "They might start ''em young."

    Cody stares at me for a few moments.

    "You''re a bit of a dork, aren''t you?"

    "Xander agrees with that statement."

    "Who''s Xander?"

    "One of my second-cousins," I say. "Sure, you can take a picture."

    As his confusion was genuine, he''s probably not a member of the Faction.

    Cody takes a picture with his camera, then shows it to me. He''s really good at this.

    "Do you want to be a photographer?" I ask.

    "I just like doing it," he says. "And writing articles on stuff. My last one was on magic butterflies. But what I really like is light, air, and force magics. Want to play the games together?"

    While this will be no more than a one-day friendship, I love playing games and it''s always more fun to challenge myself against another at these things. The fact that it''s another kid only makes it more fun.

    "Okay," I say. "Are you going to try again?"

    I definitely want to, so I can get that bear for Xander.

    "Yeah!" He nods enthusiastically. "I want to get the luminous bear plush!"

 Chapter 0044

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Do you go to the gate or the front door?" Mr. Trey asks as we all get out of the truck.

    That question confuses me a little, but I think he''s asking which one I was told to go to after arriving.

    "Um¡­ the gate," I say. "Connor said to message in the chat when I''m here. But are we giving the extra backpacks to Mr. Quinn first?"

    Mr. Quinn pulled up behind us after Mr. Trey parked and giving him my new backpacks is the only reason I can think of for him to do that. I am happy to know that he''s actually nearby, too since there are going to be a lot of people here and I might want to leave sooner rather than later and him being nearby means it''ll be easier to do that.

    Unless he''s going to leave, too.

    "We are," Mr. Trey says. "But you can keep your normal one."

    "Okay," I pull on my backpack, then put the three new ones into Mr. Quinn SUV. "Okay, I''m ready."

    "I''ll be nearby," Mr. Quinn tells me. "There might be other houses throwing barbecues soon and they''ll need parking for their guests as well, so I''ll have to find somewhere else to park. Just send me a text or call me if you want to leave, okay?"

    "Okay."

    I send a message into the group chat, then Mr. Trey, Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell, and I walk over to the gate. There''s a lot of noise coming from the other side of it, but I can''t see too well because Connor and his dad have a privacy fence for their back yard. Just as we reach it, the gate opens.

    Connor''s the one who opened it, and he''s wearing just swim trunks but isn''t wet, so I guess he''s not gotten in the pool yet.

    "Hi, Xander!" Connor exclaims. "You''ve got glasses!"

    "Yeah," I nod. "We just got them a little bit ago. It turns out that my vision isn''t good."

    "Oh!" He says. "They look cool!"

    "Thanks."

    "Hi, Mr. Caldwell!" He looks at Mr. Trey, then at Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell. "And¡­"

    "These are Mr. Trey''s parents," I say. "Um¡­ I don''t know their first names, they just told me to call them Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell. Mr. Trey wanted to meet Ms. Rachel and we didn''t want to leave his parents in the car."

    "Oh!" Connor says. "Nice to meet you!"

    "Are we too early?" I ask.

    While he said it would start around ten or ten-thirty and it''s right before ten, I might have been wrong about the start time. Or showing up even a minute earlier than ten is too early.

    "Nope!" He answers. "Come on!"

    We go into the back, where S.G., Sam, Isaac, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Michaels, and Mr. Richardson are all already doing stuff, along with Ms. Rachel, who I recognize because of pictures S.G. has posted in the group chat. That''s everyone else who was coming to the party, though only the boys are wearing swim trunks. The adults are all fully dressed, so I guess they aren''t swimming.

    No one''s in the pool ¨C the other boys were hanging out on the deck.

    "Hello," I greet the adults as we approach them, the other boys waving to me. "Hi!"

    "You''ve got glasses!" S.G. exclaims.

    "When did you get them?" Isaac asks.

    "Today," I answer. "It turns out that my real eyesight isn''t that good so I''m supposed to wear glasses for now."

    "They look cool!" S.G. tells me.

    "Yeah!" Isaac nods.

    Sam''s nodding as well. All of them are saying my glasses look cool and none of them lied when they said it. Do they really look good? That makes me happy, that I picked out glasses which look cool.

    "Come on, Xander," Connor tells me. "I''ll show you my room so you can put your stuff in there. That''s where we put all our stuff. You can change there or in the bathroom."

    I look at Mr. Trey, who nods to me, so I follow Connor into the house. In his room, there are clothes and shoes and backpacks strewn about, but they''re relatively grouped together. The other boys just dropped their stuff on the ground as they changed into their trunks. Even without that, it''s a little bit messy. Connor doesn''t seem too organized but I really shouldn''t say that or he''ll get mad at me.

    "And the bathroom''s the one on the other side of the hall, first on the right when going back to the living room," Connor tells me. "If you wanna join us in swimming and stuff, go ahead and change. I''ll see you outside!"

    He hurries outside, then I change into my new swim trunks, the pair I got for swimming in pools when not doing a lesson. Unlike the others, I stick my clothes into my backpack, though I do put my shoes beside it and tuck my socks into those. Just in case, I put the package of waterproof earplugs into one of the pockets with the hook-and-loop closes rather than the normal side pockets, then put my phone in the upper-right front pocket.

    Ready to join the others, I leave the bedroom and return to the back yard. The others are still on the deck, crowded around a table. Their phones are all on the table. Should I put mine there? I don''t think any of them would steal it, but maybe they would?

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey says when I step onto the deck. "Remember what I said, okay?"

    "To text you or Mr. Quinn or Ms. Katie or someone when I''m ready to go. Preferably Mr. Quinn, because he has my other stuff."

    "Right," he says. "And if things get too noisy?"

    "I brought the earplugs," I pull them out of my pocket. "See? So I can put them in if things get too noisy."

    "Alright," he says. "Remember everything I told you, alright?"

    "I''ll try," I tell him.

    "Have a good day, Xander."

    "Bye, Mr. Trey, bye Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell."

    They leave, then the other boys start bouncing.

    "Can we do it now?" Connor asks.

    "Please?" Sam asks.

    "Xander''s here now!" Isaac says.

    "We''ve been waiting all morning!" S.G. says.

    They all spent the night here last night, and I''m willing to bet they were told they had to wait for me to show up for whatever it is they''re excited for, since I''d messaged and said I was coming. There''s a watermelon on the table, along with a pitcher of lemonade and a large, crystal-like plastic bowl with a ladle, some large bottles of lemon-lime soda, some fruit, two cutting boards, two chef''s knives, a bread knife, and a jug of dark red fruit juice.

    "Hold on," Mr. Richardson says. "There''s still a little more."

    "What''s going on?" I whisper to S.G.

    "We''re making punch and getting lemonade!"

    They''re making punch? Who are they punching and why? It''s not me, is it? I don''t want to be punched! Unless they''re punching the watermelon?

    No, that''s probably just a Greyson thing. I need to ask what''s going on.

    "Punch?"

    "Yeah!"

    "What''s that?"

    "Never had punch before?" Mr. Michaels asks.

    "I don''t think so?" I answer. "I don''t remember it, at least."

    "The kind we''re doing now," he tells me. "Is a mixture of lemon-lime soda, fruit juice, fruit slices, and sherbet. Some variants use alcohol, but we''re not going to do that."

    "Okay."

    Mr. Thompson goes back inside and comes out with a trey and a tub of sherbet, which are set on the table, and Ms. Rachel brings out some cups. While Mr. Thompson starts cutting oranges, Mr. Michaels works on cutting the watermelon. Us boys are all given clear, hard-sided cups, with names written in permanent marker on the others'' cups.

    "Oh!" Connor exclaims. "Hold on, Xander!"

    He starts to run inside.

    "Connor!" His dad calls out. "We''ve already got it out here."

    "We do?" Connor looks around, then spots something and grabs it. "Here, Xander!"

    It''s a permanent marker.

    "Go ahead and write your name on the cup," Mr. Thompson tells me.

    "But it doesn''t wash off."

    Is not wanting to bad?

    "We can get it off if we really wanted to," Mr. Thompson tells me. "This helps avoid mixing up people''s cups."

    "See?" Connor shows me his. "We''ve all got names on cups!"

    "Even Aunt Rachel''s done it," S.G. points at a cup on another table. "See? And this is her first time hanging out with the dads and boys."

    "Um¡­ okay."

    I carefully write my name on the cup I was given, then cap the marker and set it down.

    "Hey, Xander?" Isaac says.

    "Yes, Isaac?"

    "So you''re a bad speller, right? And-"

    "I''m trying not to be," I tell him. "I''m getting lessons to help me."

    "No, no, not that," he says. "But that shouldn''t really show through in texts."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Autocorrect should fix it, shouldn''t it?"

    "It should?"

    "Yeah," he nods.

    Um¡­ now I feel really awkward. But I need to ask.

    "What, um¡­ what is autocorrect supposed to do?"

    "It helps words get spelled right in texts and stuff," S.G. tells me. "We''ve all kind of been wondering about that, since your spells aren''t that bad that it shouldn''t be able to figure out what it does."

    "But how does it know?"

    "It looks at what was spelled," Mr. Thompson tells me. "And if it''s not a word in the autocorrect''s dictionary, compares it to words with similar spellings, but also looks at the context, so it might fix words that are spelled right but used wrong, like ''you''re'' for ''you are'' instead of ''your'' as in ''your stuff''."

    "That''s¡­ what it does?"

    "Yeah!" Sam nods.

    "Oh¡­ I thought it was some sort of¡­ I dunno," I say. "For people who are always right. But I''m not always right. I''m wrong all the time."

    The other boys snicker and I feel my face heat up.

    "Xander," Mr. Thompson says. "The word ''autocorrect'' is short for ''automatically correct'', as in, ''automatically correcting wrong spellings''."

    "Oh."

    I pull out my phone and turn that setting back on.

    "You turned it off, didn''t you?" S.G. asks.

    "I was turning it back on."

    The other boys snicker again. What did I do wrong?

    I decide to watch the punch get made. Slices of oranges and lemons, and chunks of pineapples, are put into the bowl. By the time that''s done, enough of the watermelon is finished being sliced and put onto the big plate that we can eat some, so the other boys grab slices and start munching.

    "You can have some," Mr. Thompson tells me.

    "I don''t like watermelon," I tell him.

    "Want a piece of pineapple?" He offers me a chunk.

    While he cut the entire pineapple into chunks, he didn''t put all of them into the bowl, just some. The rest were put in another bowl.

    "I don''t like pineapple, either," I tell him. "It''s okay."

    "If you''re sure," he says, then starts scooping sherbet into the bigger bowl.

    Once that''s done, he starts pouring in the fruit juice while Sam and Isaac pour in the soda. It fizzles and bubbles sort of like root beer floats do, and they use up nearly all of the juice and soda to fill the bowl. Mr. Thompson then uses the ladle to stir it around, then offers to fill our cups up.

    "Is it okay to say ''no''?" I ask when he offers to fill mine after filling the other boys'' cups.

    "Don''t like punch?

    "I don''t like fizzy drinks."

    "Oh," he says. "We do have lemonade."

    I offer my cup for that and he fills it, then I drink some. The other boys are told to clean their hands and mouths of the watermelon juice and once they do, they all charge to the pool and jump in.

    "Come on, Xander!" Isaac exclaims. "The water''s great!"

    I shake my head. I don''t really feel comfortable swimming right now. The other boys don''t seem happy about that, but don''t say anything and start swimming. I sip on my lemonade while watching the adults talk and start preparing lunch. They''re going to grill burgers and brats, and that''s going to get served with coleslaw, chips, fruits, and veggies.

    The other boys are super noisy, and they keep getting out of the pool and jumping back in. That looks both scary and fun and I want to join them but I''m scared. I don''t know why I''m scared, I just am.

    They also roughhouse a lot in the pool. Maybe that''s why it''s scaring me? I want to join them really bad, but I don''t know. I''m not sure.

    After a few minutes of trying to figure out what to do, I put down the cup and take off my glasses and set them into their case, which I had in one of my pockets. I put that and my phone and earplugs case on the table beside the cup for me, then run down the yard to the other side of the pool. Then, I take a deep breath and run to the pool.

    Terror fills me, but I push through it as I jump, pulling my legs up to my chest and holding them tight as I drop into the pool. Panic seizes me for a moment, but I do my best to push through and let go of my legs, then push up with my legs against the pool''s floor. As soon as I reach the surface, I start gasping for breath.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    That. Was. Awesome!

    I look at the other boys to see their reactions, in case that was the wrong move. S.G., Connor, and Isaac are busting up laughing while Sam, who was super closer to where I landed, is looking pretty shocked, though he''s got a big smile on his face and seems to have a little bit of silent laughter coming through his surprise.

    "W-was that wrong?" I ask.

    "No!" Connor explodes into louder laughter.

    "Did you target Sam on purpose?" Isaac asks.

    Oh, no! I fucked up! They''re gonna hate me!

    "M-maybe."

    That makes all of them start laughing even more before I can get out an apology, and Sam starts actually laughing now. He splashes water at me and I flinch back, but then shake my head and splash water back at him. That starts everyone splashing at each other, and they stop doing their dunking roughhousing.

    Eventually, Mr. Thompson calls for us to get out for lunch, so we do and head up to the deck. No one else dries off for this, which I feel wrong for not doing but I still dry off anyway. We eat lunch, then play cards for a little bit while the adults talk near the hose spigot. They''re doing something, and it involves totes that they move into the yard, setting them up in different spots. The totes seem heavy and requires them to move in pairs.

    "Boys!" Mr. Thompson calls once they''re done setting up whatever that is. "Water balloons are ready!"

    "Water balloons?" I ask.

    "Yeah!" Connor says. "Water balloons! Want to join us? We''re gonna throw them at each other!"

    "Maybe I can give it a try."

    "You don''t have to if you don''t want to," Isaac tells me.

    "Some ground rules," Mr. Michaels says to us. "No aiming at each other''s faces! And once you''re all done, remember to pick up the balloon pieces."

    "Yes, sir!" The other boys salute to him.

    "Yes, sir," I say.

    "Okay!" He says. "Everyone, go to a tote!"

    I let the other boys pick their totes first, there are five totes with water balloons so we each get one. For some reason, there are five other totes as well, those ones without water balloons but completely filled with water.

    Mr. Thompson quickly tells me that we can throw balloons from any of the totes, we''re just each starting at a different one. Because this will probably be really noisy, I put in the earplugs that reduce some sound levels but still lets me hear what others are saying.

    "Ready?" Mr. Thompson asks, and we all confirm that we are. "Go!"

    I pick up a balloon from my tote and try throwing it at Sam, but my aim isn''t good and it misses, breaking on the ground past him and sending water everywhere. A balloon hits me in the left arm and explodes, and I look over to see S.G. giving me a big grin as he starts to throw another balloon.

    We start running around, throwing balloons and pulling them from the different totes. I don''t feel too comfortable doing this even if I''m having fun, and they are following the rule of not throwing them at people''s heads. Anytime a balloon hits me in the back, though, it startles me a bit.

    Back at the boys'' home, whenever we had water balloon games, they only did a couple of layers of water balloons in coolers, totes, and buckets. The balloons broke the ones underneath if we put too many in them. Here, though, the totes ¨C which are kind of big ¨C are filled all the way up to the top and the balloons aren''t popping.

    I think it''s because of the water in the totes. Rather than just balloons, the adults filled the totes with water balloons and water.

    "That''s right," Mr. Richardson tells me when I take a break from playing and ask. "The water helps cushion them and also alleviates the pressure of the weight."

    "Okay," I say.

    "Can you come over here real quick?" He asks.

    "O-over where?"

    "Just to the spigot," he tells me.

    The spigot''s on the side of the house and following him there makes me really scared since it might not be visible to the others. I don''t want to get into trouble for disobeying an adult, though, so I follow him.

    Rather than actually taking me around the corner, he has me stop once we reach it, then picks up something from a tote sitting by the spigot and hands it to me. It''s a water gun, and a big one. I peek over and see more in the tote.

    "Pull the trigger for a short burst of water," Mr. Richardson tells me. "Or pull the pump, this bit here, to do a steady stream. A slower pull will do a longer but weaker stream while a quicker pull will do a shorter burst that travels further. If you need to refill, open this bit right here and dunk it into some water. Try a tote that doesn''t have any balloons in it. Make sure to close it up again after, and it shouldn''t take more than about ten seconds to fully refill."

    "Oh!" I say. "Is that why there were five totes with just water?"

    "It is," he says. "The others will get water guns soon, but you didn''t seem to be having fun throwing the balloons."

    "I kept missing."

    "You did manage to hit some of them," he says. "They''re all missing a fair bit as well. Remember, Xander, that this is just for fun and you''re not being scored or graded. The goal here is just to have fun, alright?"

    "Okay."

    "Go have fun."

    I nod, then rejoin the other boys. It doesn''t take long after that for them to all grab water guns, but they also keep using the water balloons until those are used up. We all wear out a bit and sit on the deck once we''re done playing, the adults giving us time to catch our breaths before we have to clean up the water balloon fragments. There are some stuck to us as well, and we help each other get them off of our backs.

    "Alright, boys," Mr. Michaels comes out from the house carrying a tray. "Here are some ice pops. Enjoy!"

    The ice pops come in a few different flavors, and there are more of them than there are people here, so we can all have two if we want. I''m not really a fan of ice pops, so I decline them and just sit and listen to the other boys talk.

    They do try to include me in the conversations, but I don''t know anything about the games or shows they''re talking about.

    "It''s time for us to get going for the fair," Mr. Thompson says after they finish the ice pops. "Why don''t you all go get cleaned up?"

    "Xander!" S.G. says. "Are you coming with us?"

    "I''m not," I shake my head. "I need to take a break from noisy and busy stuff to calm down. So I''m going to go somewhere else, okay?"

    "Okay!" He says. "Are you gonna come to our sleepover tonight?"

    "Um¡­ maybe," I say. "If I feel okay tonight."

    "Okay!"

    "Xander," Mr. Thompson says, and I look at him. "Just let one of us know, and we can pick you up from wherever you are if needed. Rachel already gave your dad her address, so he can take you there as well if you want."

    "Okay."

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 13 years]

    When I enter Greyson''s workshop, there''s someone I don''t know inside. He''s dressed in a suit and has platinum-blond hair and blue-green eyes, and looks both in his forties or fifties and in his late teens to early twenties. It''s really confusing me, and I''m sure he has reason to look as surprised as I do considering that I doubt Greyson gave him permission to enter, whoever he is.

    Especially since Greyson is very strict about not letting anyone but me touch his stuff and the man''s holding a toy Greyson was working on.

    The strange man recovers first.

    "You must be Xander," he sets down the toy he was examining and approaches me.

    There''s something else about him. Something¡­ frightening.

    "Who are you?" I ask. "Why are you here? And why do you look both old and young at the same time?"

    "Both old and-" he stops walking, eyes widening for a moment before he sighs. "I have zero doubt that Greyson knew you have perspicacity, so he probably left that out on purpose."

    "Perspicacity?"

    "In mundane terms," he says. "It means ''clear-sighted''. In magical terms, it allows one to see through illusions and to know one''s true form if they''ve altered in. Most people only see a man in his late forties or early fifties when they look at me because I used a spell to alter my body to look that age," as he says that, the older-man look vanishes and he now looks only to be in his late teens or early twenties. "But I haven''t aged in a very long time, so this is what I really look like. My true self."

    A really long time? Wait. Greyson did tell me that he was forced to let people into the workshop on Sunday¡­ including our great-grandpa. A man who''s extremely old and extremely powerful. Being able to change his body is probably something someone that powerful can do.

    "You''re Grandpa Adrian, aren''t you?" I ask.

    "I am," he says. "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Xander. And to answer your question, Greyson had requested some materials and I was dropping them off while he was busy at fairs."

    I was looking in his eyes, so I know he''s being honest about being my great-grandpa. My ability to detect lies didn''t trigger and Santa said that only Grandpa Adrian could fool it. Even Santa couldn''t, which was weird.

    So if this man was lying and didn''t trigger it, then that means he''s my Grandpa Adrian, which means he wasn''t lying.

    "Dropping them off?" I ask. "On a holiday? I know it''s wrong to question adults, but that doesn''t make sense. Aren''t holidays supposed to be off days?"

    "What brings you here on a holiday?"

    "I''m feeling too much and it was either take a nap or try and play with magitech again," I tell him. "Though I''ll probably end up napping, anyway."

    Grandpa Adrian snorts.

    "I don''t much celebrate many holidays," Grandpa Adrian tells me. "I was going to come visit you and your foster dad on Friday, after doing a little looking into your situation. Greyson filled me in."

    "That means he told you about my brain and why I''m alive and that it got fixed, right?" I ask.

    "It does," he says. "Though you have fewer spells active than he told me about."

    "I figured out how to sense some of them and turn them off," I tell him. "The one for animating my body, and the one for making me have a second pair of vision eyes over my first, and the one for letting me age properly. I turned those off. I can feel the magic brain and memory packets, but I''m not sure about turning those off."

    "It''s safe to turn off the magic brain," he tells me. "For the memory packets, it would be a better idea if you absorbed the information which is contained in them."

    He gestures with a hand and a book appears in it.

    "This contains everything you could ever possibly want to learn about the memory packet spell," he tells me. "If you''re interested in learning about it on your own, that is."

    Grandpa Adrian offers me the book, and it doesn''t seem to come with any conditions. He just¡­ lets me take it. That''s suspicious. Why would he give it to me for free?

    "Regarding your soul," he says. "It looks like it''s ''stapled'' to your body, as Greyson calls it. However, it does seem as if it''s reattaching itself properly, though the beginning of that was recent. I could reattach it the rest of the way, but it wouldn''t be a perfect job as it needs to resynchronize with your body."

    "Resynchronize?"

    "Match back up, essentially," he says. "That takes time and isn''t something I can make happen. It would take about as much time as it would for your soul to finish attaching itself back."

    I''m sure I''ll understand that one day.

    "So it doesn''t matter which one happens?" I ask. "Except if you do it, I''ll stop burning through so much mana?"

    "Correct."

    "Is it painful?"

    "I''ll need to touch your back," he tells me. "Your bare back, right between your shoulder blades. Greyson said you don''t like being touched, however."

    "I don''t," I say. "But¡­ that means I won''t need to eat as much, too, right? After I finish recovering my mana?"

    "Yes and no," he says. "That depends on how much magic you use. Why?"

    "Mr. Trey has to spend a lot of money on feeding me," I say. "He says it''s fine, but at the same time, is it really?"

    "Considering his finances, it probably is," Grandpa Adrian tells me.

    "I''m not sure," I say. "But I did earn a lot of-oh! Um. I helped out Gatewood Energy."

    "You did?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "It wasn''t¡­ um¡­ I don''t know how¡­ um¡­ so they and you are rival companies and-I don''t-"

    "Hold on," Grandpa Adrian interrupts me. "You''re worried about helping out an energy company rival to mine?"

    "Yeah."

    "I don''t care."

    "You¡­ don''t care?"

    "I don''t care," he confirms. "We only have some small overlap in our markets, and I don''t mind if other companies overtake mine as long as those behind them are good people. The Gatewood Gates are."

    "So it''s okay that I helped?"

    "It is," he says. "Mind sharing what you did?"

    "Um¡­" I look over to where Greyson''s mega computer is, except he''s put up a wall of mana around it for some reason; he''s burning through a lot of his saved-up mana crystals to fuel that. I look back to Grandpa Adrian. "I used my magesight to look at a generator Luke was working on. It wasn''t on purpose, I''ve just been using it a lot lately and forgot to not while he was showing me his workshop. And I helped him learn why it kept failing to work properly. I apparently hold knowledge that''s not easy to come by because of my own experiences here in Greyson''s workshop. So since I helped him out as a specialist, I got paid for it. A lot of money. Oh! That''s why I have these backpacks."

    I''d set them down to accept the book from Grandpa Adrian, so I put that on my work table and then grab the backpacks.

    "I want to try enchanting them," I say. "I bought them and some other stuff with some of the money."

    "Greyson wanted some of the materials put in your zone," Grandpa Adrian tells me. "And again, I don''t mind if you help out Gatewood Energy. You''re your own person. Don''t leak secrets or cause problems and you''re fine."

    "Really?"

    "Really."

    "Um¡­" I turn around and pull my shirt up. "You can fix my soul."

    I really don''t want to do this but at the same time, I really want my soul fixed. There''s nothing I could do to stop him if he wanted to do something to me so I''m going to try and hope that he''s just a nice person.

    Grandpa Adrian approaches, and my heart starts pounding really hard. I try to ignore that, though, but still flinch a little when he touches my back. Then I remember to breathe deeply so I focus on that as I feel mana entering me from Grandpa Adrian''s hand. It feels a lot different from my mana and has a strange feeling to it.

    His mana spreads through my body, and I can feel it working on my soul. So that''s what a soul feels like. It''s so¡­ big. Wow. Those really do resemble staples. Grandpa Adrian starts doing something, and I start to notice threads between my soul and my body. Most of them are broken and frayed with some that are whole, and Grandpa Adrian starts connecting the broken ones.

    It takes almost twenty minutes but by the time he''s done, all of the little threads are whole again.

    "You can stop the stapling once you''re comfortable," Grandpa Adrian pulls his hand away from my back, and I lower my shirt and turn around to face him. "And once you¡­ I wasn''t even done and they''re gone."

    "Whoa, they burned up really fast."

    Grandpa Adrian laughs.

    "It was nice to meet you, Xander," he says. "I''ll see you on Friday, when I stop by your house to talk with Trey."

    That sounds like he''s leaving.

    "Um," I say. "Before you go¡­ are you really a dragon hidden in human form?"

    "What does your perspicacity say?"

    "My magesight says that your mana has some weird stuff in it," I say. "And¡­ I dunno. I guess it just gives me an impression of a dragon hugging a phoenix and a unicorn? It''s weird. Or maybe they''re all the same thing? It''s¡­ hard to describe. But that bit I could only sense while you were doing your thing to my soul. When I''m looking at you now, it''s just¡­ giving me the impression of a dragon. A big and golden and sun-like one. So are you really a dragon in human form? Am I half-no¡­ quarter? No, an eighth dragon?"

    If he''s really a dragon, then he''d probably be able to fool my perspicacity. I don''t really understand what that is, but I''m sure dragons can trick it.

    "You can¡­ see mana states?"

    "Huh?"

    "The various states that mana are in," he says. "It lets you know if mana has some sort of magical aspect as well. I do have a rather unique aspect to my mana, but I''m fully human."

    "Santa says you can fool my lie-detection ability."

    "I''m not able to do that," he snorts.

    "Says the one who can fool the ability."

    "Greyson told me you made his puzzle sphere," he changes the subject. "Would you be okay showing me your process?"

    In other words, he can fool my ability to detect lies. I knew it!

    "I don''t really remember how I made it," I tell him. "Plus, the actual, um¡­ I think the word is algorithm? Yeah, algorithm. That''s not really feasible. It uses the presence of dragons as part of its factor, and celestial bodies, and¡­ well, that was my intention. But I''m too stupid to do something like that so I have no idea what determines the locations of the pieces.

    "That''s fine," he says. "It can be an inferior version. I''m curious about your process."

    "Um¡­ okay," I put the backpacks aside and grab some materials. "Um¡­ I don''t have any extra stools."

    Grandpa Adrian summons a stool on his own, then sits on it to watch me work. It sounded like he was leaving, but then he changed to wanting to see me make this after I mentioned the weird aspect to his mana.

    "Hey, Xander?" He asks after I finish preparing a mana battery.

    "Yes, Grandpa Adrian?"

    "What did you just do?"

    "I made a mana battery," I tell him. "Greyson taught me how. See on the screen? You do that and then that, and then you adjust it like that."

    "That''s not the process you used, though," he says. "You altered the mana crystal after cutting it down."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Greyson encourages me to try my own thing. So I altered the mana in the crystal so that it''s more like a person''s mana container thingy. That way, it can put out its stored mana at a steady rate as needed."

    "Is that what you did for the puzzle sphere you gave to Greyson?"

    "I don''t remember."

    "Xander," Grandpa Adrian holds up the mana battery. "You didn''t alter the crystal to release its mana. You altered all of the mana in the crystal to match the mana body in a person."

    "I don''t know what that means."

    "Mana," he says. "In a certain state, creates mana. That''s what our mana body does. You''ve turned this mana crystal into the same sort of thing."

    "I don''t understand."

    "Xander," he says. "You''ve made the mana crystal make mana."

    "I did?"

    "Yes," he holds out the mana battery.

    "Huh," I take the mana battery and examine it. "Is that bad?"

    Grandpa Adrian looks over at the mana veil, a contemplative look on his face. After a few moments, he looks at me.

    "Greyson''s mega computer," he says. "Does it need magitech energy or just mana to run?"

    "It can operate off of either," I say. "But it''s easier for Greyson to acquire the power cores¡­ well, was. I didn''t realize he wasn''t really obtaining them legally. He''d rather it run directly off of mana itself since he can set it up to convert that into magitech energy for the bits where using that is better and more efficient than off of raw mana."

    "Do you know how much mana it needs to operate?"

    "Sort of?" I get up from my seat. "Please hold on for a moment."

    I go into Greyson''s zone and look for something. Greyson''s given me permission to mess with and/or use anything from his zone and I''m starting to learn it''s really allowed. After a few minutes, I find what I''m looking for.

    "Okay," I return to Grandpa Adrian and look at what''s on the tablet. "Once it''s been optimized, Greyson thinks it will need around 230,000 units of mana your scale per day. Um. For the expanded capabilities, though, several thousand extra."

    "Expanded capabilities?"

    "I''m assuming it has something to do with what it''s going to be used for," I say. "But he hasn''t told me. I think he''s afraid I''ll tell him to stop if I know what it is."

    "I see," Grandpa Adrian says. "I could have invented that technique you use for your mana battery if I wanted to and thought about it, but never bothered with it as I never felt a need for it. But Xander?"

    "Yes, Grandpa Adrian?"

    "That''s a solution to Greyson''s power supply problem," he tells me. "He told me before that he wants it to run on mana which both fuels it and which is converted into magitech energy."

    Then why ask me if you already know? Adults are so confusing.

    He holds out his right hand, and a mana crystal begins to form. A massive mana crystal. It''s as tall as up to my chest when I''m standing and is a perfect sphere. Then, he gestures over it and I watch as the mana crystal sphere''s mana state changes to match the mana body in a person and the state I changed the mana battery''s crystal into.

    "This will be able to produce around half a million units of mana per day," Grandpa Adrian tells me.

    "You can just¡­ do that?" I ask.

    "I can," he says. "Though I''d never even thought about such a thing before."

    "Really?"

    "I''m extremely powerful," he says. "Not all-knowing. There are things even I don''t think about or know how to do. Did you teach yourself how to alter the mana''s state?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "What are mana states? People have mentioned them before."

    "You know how water can be liquid, solid, or a gas?" He asks, and I nod. "Those are different ''states'' of water, and they do different things. Mana is the same way ¨C it has many different states, and each one does something different. It seems that your magesight allows you to perceive even the ones that are more difficult to perceive or to create devices to detect."

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ I guess I did teach myself how to do that? I don''t remember being taught how. I just¡­ felt like that would make it work the way I wanted it to? I thought I was just enchanting the mana crystal."

    "Well, it was a form of enchantment," Grandpa Adrian tells me, then taps on the sphere, which starts to roll until he gestures with a hand, stopping it with his magic. "Greyson can use this to power his mega computer."

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ that will probably massively speed up his progress on building it."

    "Probably," he says. "If it turns out to be a problem, could you let me know what its real purpose is? But only if it''s a problem ¨C it''s fine if the mega computer isn''t going to be used for something evil."

    "Okay," I say. "I can¡­ maybe do that. I don''t know."

    "Alright," he chuckles. "Now. The puzzle sphere you''re making. How much more do you have left for it?"

    "Um¡­" I look at it. "Okay, now that the mana battery is created, I want to try and make it have hexagonal pieces to cover it. That means I need the Greysonian orca. Once I get some of that and use some tools to cut it down, I can start creating the attachments and putting in the enchantments to allow the changes to happen. I''m going to go grab some now."

 Chapter 0045

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Is everything okay, Xander?" Mr. Trey asks when he answers the call.

    "Maybe," I answer. "Mr. Trey, is it okay if I try teleporting back to the house? Greyson''s ''Guide to the Art of Teleporting'' seems to work but I was only teleporting around the workshop, so I don''t know if I can do longer distances."

    Mr. Trey doesn''t respond immediately. Does that mean I did something wrong? But I was never told I''m not allowed to learn teleportation magic and I even mentioned wanting to do that to him earlier! What did I do wrong?

    "You may," he answers after a few moments.

    "Okay," so I''m not in trouble. That''s good. "After I test that, is it okay if I go to the fairgrounds and see if I can handle the crowd? S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac are there right now and they keep posting pictures in the chat and it looks like fun. It''s also close to dinnertime, so I''m getting hungry and want to try the fair''s food."

    "You can," he says. "Are you still planning on going to the bowling alley after?"

    "I am," I tell him. "If I have time, can I bake some stuff? Greyson''s got a ''Guide to Baking With Magic'' on the system, too, and I''ve already learned the spells. It can make everything except the preparation stage a lot faster."

    "And how does that work?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "It uses a mixture of time, force, and heat or cold magic to cook or cool things more quickly," I tell him. "I adapted some of the spells and learned how to breathe fire and ice."

    I inhale deeply, then exhale and as I do, fire billows out of my mouth. Since I''m outside right now, it''s easy to aim that away from anything which could burn.

    "And¡­ why did you do that?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "So that if someone tried to force me to-"

    "Okay, okay," he quickly says. "I understand."

    "But I didn''t say it."

    "I can make an educated guess," he says. "You do need supervision for baking, so ask Katie if she''s there."

    "Doesn''t she have the day off after breakfast?"

    "It doesn''t hurt to ask," Mr. Trey tells me. "She can say ''no'' if she wants to."

    "Okay," I say. "By the way, Grandpa Adrian was here when I arrived earlier. I think he was checking something Greyson made. He was inspecting a toy Greyson made when I showed up. I think he''s a dragon."

    "Why do you think that?"

    "Because that''s the impression I get from his mana," I answer. "He claims he''s just a person with unique aspects to his mana, but Santa said that he can fool my ability to know when people are lying, and Santa''s a god so I''m sure he''d be knowledgeable in this."

    "Okay," he says.

    "I''m going to go now," I tell Mr. Trey. "Bye."

    "Bye, Xander," he chuckles, then I hang up and pocket my phone.

    I return into the workshop and grab my backpack. Not the old one, though. That''s stuffed inside of this one, along with the other two.

    It''s possible to put spatial pockets inside of others when they''re part of an item like a bag. Greyson''s notes on enchanting spatial pockets was very clear on that, as it''s no different than stuffing a backpack inside of another backpack, or a bottle into another bottle. As long as the object itself can fit into the other space, then it''s fine. The pocket spaces only take up as much space as the object they''re a part of.

    With my backpack on, I cast the teleport spell. Greyson''s had some weird parts to it so I removed those and adjusted some of its aspects while doing the shorter teleports, and the casting is a lot faster now. Almost seven times as fast.

    Well, it was already pretty fast before, but this makes it even faster. And the spell costs a lot less mana. I really want to know why Greyson thought the spell needed all of that extra stuff, so I''ll probably ask him the next time we''re both here. If I remember to.

    When the spell completes, I appear in front of the doors to Mr. Trey''s house. I open the door and enter, then slip off my shoes and find Ms. Katie, who''s starting to make herself dinner.

    "Hello, Ms. Katie," I say.

    "Hello, Xander," she says. "Did you want to eat here? I can fix something up for you."

    "I was going to go to the fairgrounds and see if I can handle the crowd for dinner," I tell her. "Mr. Trey said to ask you if you would be okay with supervising me when I try to use magic to bake after I finish dinner."

    "Magic to bake?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Greyson has directions on how to do that in the digital library he created for me and I read up on it. To bake something, it uses a mixture of force, heat, and time magic. The directions were extremely clear on what to do and I want to give it a try. I can use the stuff I bought yesterday. There was plenty extra. Mr. Trey said to ask if you were willing to supervise me even though it''s your day off."

    "I don''t mind," she tells me. "I don''t have other plans and baking with you''s fun."

    "Fun?" I ask.

    It can be fun to bake with me? I know that I am starting to find it fun to bake, but is it really fun to bake with me even though I keep messing things up?

    "Yeah," she says. "You have fun at the fair, okay? And remember your earplugs or headphones if things get too noisy for you."

    "I''ll try to remember," I tell her. "Enjoy your dinner, Ms. Katie."

    I put my shoes back on, then teleport to the entrance of the fairgrounds. I''ve been here before in the past, with my old foster family. They forced me to come to the fair with them even though I struggled to handle it. Having been here before makes it easier to teleport than having not been here before, since I don''t have to do calculations for the teleport spell.

    Now that I''m here, I walk up to the booth here and pull out my wallet. Mr. Trey gave me money earlier just in case I decided to come to the fair.

    "Hello," I greet the lady at the counter. "How much is it to enter?"

    "It''s free," she tells me. "But you can buy tickets and bracelets here. Most games take one or two tickets, and most rides take two or three tickets. Tickets are two for a dollar. If you want a bracelet, which gives free rides for the duration of the fair, it''s thirty-five dollars. Are your parents with you?"

    "My parents are dead."

    "O-oh," she looks uncomfortable for a moment. "Who''s in charge of you?"

    "Mr. Trey," I say. "He''s my foster dad. But he''s attending a fancy barbecue. He said I could come here and gave me money for it. I want to meet up with some friends and their dads and aunt. They''re already inside."

    "Oh," she says. "Okay. Do you want some tickets?"

    "I don''t think I''m going to play games."

    "Okay," she says. "If you want to play games, you can buy tickets at any of the stations set up around the fair, though the booths will also let you play for a dollar per ticket they''d accept. So if it''s not paid for with a ticket, it''s one dollar."

    "But that''s twice as much."

    "It is," she says. "That''s just how it is."

    That makes no sense. If I do play games, I''ll make sure to buy tickets.

    "Okay," I say. "So I can go on in, then?"

    "You can," she says. "Have fun!"

    "I might," I say, then enter the fair.

    It doesn''t take me very long before I put in the noise-reducing earplugs that still let me hear human voices without being too loud. I want to try and find the other boys without asking them for where they are, but I might have to text and ask. This place is huge and crowded.

    Oooh! That looks good!

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Hi, Hunter!" I wave to Hunter, who waves back.

    "Hey, S.G.," he says. "Hey, Connor."

    "Who''s this?" Sam asks as we walk up to the booth where Hunter''s working.

    It''s for the smoothie shop he works for, they''ve apparently set up a tent here. Hunter''s wearing his uniform, which consists of green pants and a pink shirt. It looks¡­ weird but awesome.

    "His dad works with mine," Connor looks at me. "How do you know him?"

    "His dad''s the one who was helping us yesterday," I tell him. "He came over to help, too! So you''re working here, too?"

    "Yeah," Hunter says. "You guys having fun?"

    "We are!" I answer. "It''s build-your-own smoothie?"

    "Gotta pay per addition," he says. "It''s a dollar for the base, and we can do up to three fruits and up to two syrups and sauces. You can see the prices here."

    The prices are based on the portion of each fruit which goes in as well, so a third-cup of strawberries costs less than half a cup of them. We each buy a smoothie, then start looking for the dads, which Aunt Rachel is now a part of. They told us to meet them near the main food area for dinner and-

    "Is that Xander?" Sam asks.

    "Where?" I snap my head to the direction he''s looking. "It is! Wait. He looks so funny."

    We all giggle a little at how Xander looks. He''s got a massive funnel cake with powdered sugar, ice cream, blueberry and strawberry compote, banana slices, and walnuts. He''s balancing it on his left hand with a to-go cup of lemonade held against his chest with his arm, and is eating the funnel cake and toppings with a fork in his right. However, he''s made a little bit of a mess and has some of the powder and topping on his nose, cheeks, and chin.

    Every time I''ve seen Xander eat, he''s quickly wiped his face if something got on it. Every time. That''s probably why we find it so funny that he''s got toppings there. That, and he looks so dorky like that, especially with the oblivious look on his face.

    "Xander!" We start calling out to him. "Hey! Xander!"

    It takes us a minute to get his attention, especially with him walking around. He keeps sniffing the air, too, and I think he''s following his nose somewhere.

    "Xander!" I move in front of him and he jumps a little, nearly dropping his plate and cup. "Oh! Sorry!"

    "Oh! Hi, S.G.!" He says. "I was looking for you guys."

    "You were?" I ask.

    "Yeah," he nods. "I''m hungry and it''s time for dinner so I figured you''d all be somewhere there''s food. I can smell cooking meat this way and figured that might be where you are."

    "How long have you been here?" I ask.

    "We would''ve found a place to meet up if you told us," Connor tells him.

    "Yeah," I say. "We could''ve even met you at the gate!"

    "Roughly seven minutes," Xander answers. "I had to wait in line for the funnel cake and that took four minutes. It''s really good. And that''s fine, I wanted to try and find you on my own first. Do you want a piece?"

    It seems like he''s only offering part of the funnel cake to me for some reason, especially since he then offers some to the rest of us after a look of realization crosses his face. We all get a piece of it, then walk with him to the big food center, where the dads are talking.

    "Hey, boys," Mr. Michaels says.

    "Hey, Xander!" Mr. Thompson says. "You came?"

    "For dinner," Xander nods. "But I stopped for a funnel cake with lots of toppings. It looked delicious. It is delicious. But I''m almost done. And I''m really hungry. Mr. Trey gave me money in case I came here, so I can buy stuff. But I have my own money, too."

    I noticed it earlier, but Xander''s talking a lot more. Not in a hyper way, just in a sort of babble kind of way. It''s making the "weirdness" in how he speaks obvious. I really hadn''t noticed it before the other day, but he does talk a little bit different.

    Not that it''s a bad thing, though. Those two really were jerks over it for no reason. We can understand him just fine.

    "Alright," Mr. Thompson chuckles. "Let''s get everyone some food. And Xander?"

    "Yes, Mr. Thompson?"

    "When we come to things like fairs," he says. "We dads pay for the boys to eat, taking turns. It''s Mr. Michaels''s turn this time."

    "I''ll buy as much for you as I do them," Mr. Michaels tells Xander. "You''re one of the boys now."

    "I''ve always been a boy."

    "No-that''s not-" Mr. Michaels seems a little flustered, which causes us boys to snicker as Xander just looks confused.

    "Xander," I say. "By ''the boys'', he''s referring to us. As a group! You''re one of us now!"

    "Um¡­" Xander shifts a little. "I''ll still eat a lot. So I''ll pay with what Mr. Trey gave me."

    "Let me pay for at least a meal," Mr. Michaels tells Xander. "You''re one of the boys now, alright?"

    "Okay¡­" Xander seems confused a little.

    We get in line to wait for our turn to order and once we get our food, we find a table to sit at to dig into our food. Xander doesn''t say a word, just chows down on his food until it''s gone¡­ and he goes through three burgers faster than it takes me to eat one!

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Damn, he''s hungry today!

    "It was nice hanging out with all of you again," Xander tells us as we throw our trash away. "I''m leaving now. Have a good rest of your day!"

    "Hey, wait!" I say. "Are you coming to the sleepover tonight?"

    "I haven''t decided yet," Xander says. "Maybe. Bye."

    Xander walks off and we look at each other. Well, us boys do.

    He said "maybe", which is more than he''s really given us on any offer to join us than before. We''re making progress!

    "Hey, Sig," Connor nudges me with a sly grin on his face.

    "What?"

    "Xander likes you."

    "I think he likes all of us."

    "Not like that," he snickers. "He only offered you his funnel cake at first!"

    "That was just him trying to offer to all of us," my face heats up. "He just realized that it came off like only offering to me."

    There''s no way Xander likes me like that, he''s just comfortable with all of us. And he''s got a lot of other stuff on his mind.

    I do hope he comes to the sleepover tonight, though. Hanging out with Xander is a ton of fun, even if it can be a little aggravating at times. Why did he come here to eat with us if he wasn''t really going to talk or anything?

    Those thoughts disappear as we go back to playing games and getting on rides, with us winning various prizes as we go. As the day wears on, we start to get tired and it starts to near the time for fireworks, so we meet up with the dads.

    There''s a big field near the fairgrounds where people are setting up spots, and Mr. Richardson claims one for us while we''re meeting up with the other dads. We''d have a hard time getting a space if we waited until we were all grouped up due to how many people are here. Mr. Richardson has a big blanket spread out for us to all to sit on and bottles of lemonade and soda for us to drink while we wait.

    "So," Mr. Thompson says. "How''d you boys enjoy the fair?"

    "Really good!" Connor answers. "My favorite game was the one where you threw beanbags to try and get them into holes."

    "Mine was trying to knock the bottles over!" Isaac says.

    "I wanted to do the Ferris wheel again!" I say. "But the lines were super long once we''d done enough other stuff. Maybe next time!"

    "Maybe next time," Aunt Rachel ruffles my hair.

    "Aunt Racheeel!"

    "What about you?" Mr. Richardson asks Sam.

    "The dunk tank!" Sam exclaims. "I managed to dunk the guy on my first try!"

    We keep talking about the fair until it''s time for the fireworks to start. I wish Xander were here to watch them with us, he''s missing out on something really cool!

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts after he leaves the group during Sig''s PoV

    "Hello, Ms. Katie," I greet Ms. Katie. "I''m back."

    "Welcome back, Xander," Ms. Katie is already in the kitchen, setting out stuff for baking. "I wasn''t sure what you wanted to bake, so I brought out what should be enough."

    "Pies," I tell her. "And make ice cream, too, if that''s okay. It''s for the bowling alley. And I was thinking of maybe making extra for the sleepover. They told me before that they usually have food for it. And they had snacks for the one they had at Connor''s last night. I was invited to that one, too, but I declined."

    I did want to go to that, but I was still really scared. Now I know magic that can defend me if someone tries to do something, and I can teleport away in an emergency, too. So I''m now safe.

    "So you''re planning on going?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "I still haven''t decided yet," I tell her. "Oh! But I was thinking while I was eating dinner and¡­ oh. Ms. Katie, I think I messed up."

    "How?" She asks.

    "Um¡­" I pull off my backpack and set it on a chair before entering the kitchen. "I forgot to talk during dinner. I was focused on eating and what I was thinking that I forgot to socialize. Do you think they''ll be mad at me and tell me I can''t come if I decide I want to?"

    "They probably won''t," she smiles. "Want to share what you were thinking about?"

    "Maybe," I answer. "But I will anyway because it''s important for the baking. See, Greyson''s guide on how to cook and bake with magic uses time magic to speed up the process for the baking or cooking or chilling. But I also learned recently that he accelerates his own personal time to allow him to move faster.

    "So after I left the fairgrounds," I continue. "I went back to Greyson''s workshop and looked up his temporal alteration spell. It allows him to interact with objects like normal even if they weren''t in contact with him when he cast the spell, though it had some weird parts to it. I removed those parts and cleaned it up before trying it out and it works.

    "What I was thinking," I tell her. "Was that I could maybe use that to speed up even the measuring and mixing stage, since the stuff I''m messing with will be in my time. Oh, and it doesn''t affect my aging, so even if I triple my speed and stay there for a year, I''d still be just a year older, not three years older. Greyson must not want to grow up too fast."

    Ms. Katie doesn''t say anything for a few seconds.

    "I don''t blame him," I say. "I don''t want to grow up too fast. I just want to grow up normally, like a normal boy."

    "As you should," she says. "So you want to try doing the prep stages with time magic as well?"

    "I do," I say. "Mr. Trey already gave me the okay on that, I asked him after I tested the spell. He did say you have to supervise, though. Well, and I don''t remember the recipes fully. If we have time, I want to try making a cheesecake this way, too."

    "Alright," Ms. Katie says. "Let me know when you want some help or need to remember something."

    "Okay," I say.

    I pull on my apron and wash my hands, then get to work. Greyson''s version of the temporal acceleration spell costs four times as much mana as my version of it does for the same acceleration rate. That''s as good a sign as any that Greyson''s was inefficient, and I can''t help but wonder why he didn''t improve it.

    If I were able to figure it out this easily, then Greyson definitely could have. He''s been studying magic for years.

    What was he thinking, leaving it so inefficient?

    "Okay," I look at Ms. Katie. "The pies are ready for baking."

    "I''m curious," she says. "How does it work when you use the oven?"

    "It doesn''t use the oven," I tell her. "Um¡­ is it okay to ask you to please step back a little? I''m not sure how big of a field it''ll create. Greyson''s directions were a little vague on that."

    "Okay," she chuckles as she steps back a little.

    I hold my hands in front of me, and the four pie tins begin to float up in the air as the spell weaves together. Adjust the formula like this for the temperature they should be at in the oven, then manipulate time like so and¡­ there!

    Air begins to ripple around the pie crusts, a sign of the heat magics at work. Before my eyes, the pies rapidly cook, but not rapidly to them. They''re in a temporal bubble of their own so time is passing faster for them, sort of like it did for me while I was preparing things but not exactly the same.

    It takes only three minutes for the pies to finish baking and once they''re done, I make sure to carefully set them down on the cooling racks. Ms. Katie will put them into the stasis boxes I bought yesterday once they''re cool enough.

    "They''re done!" I start bouncing a little. "Ms. Katie! I did it! I baked them with my magic!"

    "I can see that," she smiles. "That was very impressive, Xander! I don''t really understand how that worked, but congratulations!"

    I keep bouncing for a few moments in my excitement. It takes me a couple of minutes to calm down, but once I do, I start on making the ice cream. That gets chilled with my magic and some temporal acceleration while being churned with force magic.

    "How''s it going?" Mr. Trey asks as I set the bowl down, and I look over.

    He''s just gotten home, I guess.

    "Going good!" I point at the bowl. "Look! I churned it and cooled it with my magic! I followed the direction from Greyson''s guide, except I changed the spells so that they don''t use as much mana and have all of the extra bits in them. They''re more efficient now. I think maybe he was using them inefficiently in order to train his own magic and build up more mana reserves."

    "That''s very impressive," Mr. Trey tells me.

    I was looking in his eyes, so I know he''s being honest. He thinks it''s cool that I can bake with magic!

    "It is!" I start scooping the ice cream into two of the freezer buckets I bought yesterday and a normal bucket for ice cream. "Is it okay if I make cheesecake, too? In case I decide I want to go to the sleepover?"

    "Go ahead," Mr. Trey says. "Do you want me to take pictures and maybe a video as you make it?"

    "Ms. Katie was doing that," I say. "Um. But you can if you want."

    Mr. Trey takes my phone from where Ms. Katie set it and uses it as I start working on the cheesecake. The magic for it is a little bit trickier since I have to first bake it with my magic while making sure to maintain the water bath so it doesn''t sink, then I have to mix in some air magic with the cold magic when cooling it.

    "Oh, um, Ms. Katie," I say as I remove the cheesecake from the springform pan. "One of the pies was for you, as thanks for helping me when you''re on an off day."

    "It was?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "The fourth stasis box was for the cheesecake."

    "Oh," she says. "Thank you, Xander. Let me pull that out real quick."

    After we swap the pie for the cheesecake, I help put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, then Ms. Katie starts preparing the bag of toppings and dishes for the ice cream.

    "Do you want to watch the fireworks when it''s time?" Mr. Trey asks me. "With your earplugs or headphones, they shouldn''t be too loud."

    "No," I answer. "Fireworks bore me. Is it still okay for me to go to the bowling alley?"

    "It is," he says. "Can I bowl with you tonight?"

    "If you want to," I answer. "S.G. and the others won''t be there because they''re going to stay at the fair until the fireworks, then watch that, then head to S.G.''s aunt''s new house."

    "Alright," Mr. Trey hands me my phone, and I put it in my pocket. "It''s nearly time to get ready to go if we''re driving there, so go ahead and do that."

    "Okay."

    I get ready to go, then Mr. Trey drives me to the bowling alley. Lena is at the desk when we arrive, and I make sure to give her one of the pies and the normal tub with ice cream in it. She returns the tub from last week, cleaned and dried.

    "No fireworks?" She asks.

    "I find fireworks boring," I tell her. "And I wanted to bowl again. It''s Tuesday, and you''re open."

    "Yes, we are," she chuckles. "Have fun!"

    "I''ll try."

    I bring my stuff over to Lane 20, then change into my bowling shoes. After that, I head down to the concessions area with Mr. Trey, who''s also changed into his bowling shoes, and we order food before returning to our lane.

    "Mr. Trey," I say. "Do you want the first turn?"

    "You can if you want," he says.

    "Okay," I say.

    I put in "XANDER", then Mr. Trey puts in "TREY", and we start bowling. He''s better at it than he was the first time, and manages to score a 139 in the first game, and a 137 in the second. I score 300 on both games, and I wasn''t even using the animation spell. Does that mean I never used it while bowling?

    That''s awesome!

    "You look pretty happy," Mr. Trey tells me.

    "I am," I nod. "I didn''t use my animation spell at all, I was checking. It was all me!"

    "You were worried your skill came from the animation spell?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "But it wasn''t, which means it really was all me."

    "That''s good," he says. "Let''s clean our stuff up and go. Do you want to go to the sleepover?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "If that''s still okay."

    "It is," he says.

    We clean up our stuff and put the bowling balls away, then leave the bowling alley.

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says as he drives me to Ms. Rachel''s new house. "Remember, it''s okay to leave if you feel you want to. If you get scared, or too anxious, it''s okay to leave. And let the other boys know if you need some space to calm down if you start getting overwhelmed, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "If you want to get picked up," he says. "Just let one of us know. Or if you''re going to teleport¡­ just let us know. I''ve already texted Quinn, so he''ll be waiting somewhere nearby if you want him to pick you up, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "And Xander?"

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "I''m sure they''ll understand if you need to go to sleep sooner than them," he says. "So don''t try to force yourself to stay awake. You''re already nodding off."

    "I''ll try to stay awake," I tell him. "But I might not be able to."

    "If you feel unsafe at all," Mr. Trey tells me. "Or someone tries to force you to do something inappropriate or illegal, it''s okay to get out, okay?"

    "Okay," I nod. "I''ll try to remember that. Also my magics, like teleporting and fire breath and ice breath."

    We arrive at Ms. Rachel''s new house a few minutes after that, and Mr. Trey walks me to the door and tells me to knock, so I go to do so.

    "Open the screen door first."

    Stupid fucking me.

    I open the screen door and knock on the heavy door. A few seconds pass, then Ms. Rachel opens it.

    "Hello, Xander," she greets me. "The boys are downstairs, if you want to go ahead and go down."

    I look at Mr. Trey, who nods.

    "The stairs to the basement are through the door over there," Ms. Rachel points toward the kitchen as I enter her house.

    "Okay," I say. "And hello, Ms. Rachel."

    I go to the basement, making sure to close the stair doors on the way down. There''s a small room when I first get to the bottom of the stairs, but it''s easy to figure out that the other boys are through a door at their base.

    They''re kind of noisy.

    I open the door and enter and they all stop what they''re doing and look over. They were all wrestling around. They''re all also just wearing shorts. I''m not going to be expected to do that, am I? I don''t want to wear only shorts for the sleepover. This is a lot different from swimming in a big, open space.

    Maybe coming here was a bad idea.

    "Xander!" S.G. exclaims, wriggling his way out of Sam''s grip before jumping to his feet and running over. I flinch back at the sudden rush. "You came!"

    "Yeah," I nod. "That''s okay, right?"

    "Of course!" He says as the others reach us. "Is that pie and ice cream?"

    He''s looking at the containers in my hand.

    "Yeah," I nod. "And the bag has toppings. There''s also a cheesecake. That''s the bigger box. Um. You guys have lots of snacks already."

    The coffee table down here has a lot of food on it. Big bottles of soda, a big jug of fruit juice, bags of chips, packages of cookies, and more. There are even a few bowls of fruits and veggies.

    "There''s always room for dessert!" S.G. says. "I''m gonna go get some bowls and stuff!"

    Before I can say anything, S.G. is running past me to go up the stairs.

    What do I do now?

    "Here!" Connor moves some stuff to the side on the coffee table. "You can put them here, Xander!"

    There''s not really a whole lot of space, but I put the boxes and tub down where Connor made space. Too close. He''s too close. I scoot away a little.

    "Are you okay?" Connor asks.

    "No."

    "Oh," he says. "Um¡­"

    "I don''t have to wear just shorts, do I?"

    "It''s what we''re wearing to bed," Connor tells me. "You can wear something else if you want."

    Good.

    "Pajamas."

    "You can change in Sig''s room if you want," Sam points at one of the doors on the back wall. "That''s it there. That one''s the bathroom if you want to change in there."

    "We''re going to bed?"

    "No," he snorts. "We''re going to stay up a bit later and have some fun! But we get changed once we''re all ready for the night so we don''t have to worry about it when we''re getting tired."

    That seems really weird but I guess that''s what we''re supposed to do for sleepovers. I don''t want to change yet, but I don''t want them to make fun of me for not changing now. I really want to be able to hang out with all of them. It''s fun.

    "Oh," I shift a little. "I''m going to go change."

    I go into the bathroom and pull off my backpack, then change into a pair of green pajamas. My dirty clothes are put into a bag in my backpack, then I leave the bathroom and join the others by the sofa and loveseat. S.G.''s already come back down here and has some plates and bowls and forks and spoons.

    "Where are the napkins?" I whisper to S.G.

    He looks at the stuff he''s put out, then giggles and hurries back upstairs, returning after a minute with napkins. It seems they didn''t have any yet despite having lots of food already out and even partially-eaten.

    "Um," I shift a little as we sit in a circle after getting dessert. "Sam, you said ''have some fun''. What kind of fun? Because I''m not going to do anything illegal if it''s that kind of fun."

    "We don''t do stuff like that!" Isaac bounces. "We just wrestle around and play games and stuff! Since we''re eating stuff, we can do something like play cards or True or Dare."

    "Truth or Dare?" I ask. "What''s that?"

    "It''s a game!" S.G. says. "Um¡­ hold on!"

    S.G. grabs a glass soda bottle that''s empty and checks the inside, then he locates its cap and screws it back on before setting it in the center of the circle.

    "There are a few variations but what we do," he says. "Is we spin the bottle like this," he spins the bottle, and when it stops, it''s pointing at Sam. "And then the person it''s pointing at has to say ''truth'' or ''dare''. If they say ''truth'', then the person who spun the bottle asks them a question and they have to answer honestly. If they say ''dare'', then the person who spun the bottle dares them to do something. And if they don''t want to answer the question asked or do the dare issued, then they have to do five push-ups, five sit-ups, and five squats."

    "Oh!" Isaac exclaims. "And the dares can''t be anything illegal, or which takes you out of the room. So nothing like ''run naked down the street''. It can require something that isn''t in the room, as long as it''s reasonable. So ''slow dance with a broom'' means going and getting a broom since there''s not one down here."

    "What''s ''slow dance''?"

    "We''ll show you if you need it," Sam says. "It''s my turn, so dare!"

    But I still had questions.

    "I dare you to fit as many grapes in your mouth as you can!" S.G. tells him. "And no chewing or swallowing this time!"

    Sam giggles, then grabs the bowl with grapes and starts plucking off the stems and shoving them into his mouth as he drops the stems onto a napkin. He manages to get a lot of them in, but it looks really weird. The others seem to find it funny because they keep giggling, and Sam eventually has to spit them out, though he does start eating them.

    I''m sitting on S.G.''s right and the one who spins is the one to the left of the last one who did, so I''m the last to spin on the first round. The bottle doesn''t point at me before then, just the other boys, and they all do dares instead of truths.

    "Um," I say once it''s my turn to spin the bottle. "What if it points at me when I spin it?"

    "Oh!" S.G. bounces. "Forgot that! If it points at the person who spun, they just spin it again!"

    "Some groups do where they have to do a truth or dare from each other person," Isaac says. "But we don''t do that."

    "Okay," I say, then spin the bottle.

    When it stops spinning (it doesn''t spin very long on the carpet), it''s pointing at Sam.

    "Dare," Sam says.

    "Um¡­" I try to think of something. "Um¡­ what happens if you try the dare but can''t finish it?"

    "Then I''ve gotta do the exercises!" He says. "Unless it''s something that I can just put my best effort into, then I''m good. But I bet I''ll do it! What''s up?"

    "I dare you," I try to remember what I''d come up with. "Oh, right. I dare you to stand on one foot until it''s your turn again."

    Sam''s two after me, so he''d have to do a one-foot stand through both S.G''s turn and Connor''s.

    "Ooh! I can do that!" He says. "I think!"

    Sam gets up and stands on his left foot, then S.G. spins the bottle and it points to me.

    "Truth," I say.

    "Okay," he says. "If you were trapped on a deserted island with no way off, what would you do?"

    "I have to ask additional questions before I can properly answer that," I say. "Is that okay?"

    "Sure!" S.G. asks. "What''s up?"

    "When you say ''no way off''," I say. "Do you mean it''s impossible to leave, or like, I don''t have a boat and can''t teleport off for some reason?"

    "The second one!" He bounces a little. "So you could get picked up by a boat or something if it came by!"

    "Okay," I say. "Then I''d probably try to make sure I had food to eat while I waited for Greyson to learn I''m missing, because I''m sure he''d come and rescue me. And even if he couldn''t teleport off of it, too, then I''m sure he''d just build a boat. Actually, it''s Greyson. He might figure out what''s blocking teleportation, destroy it, and then teleport us off. There might be explosions in the process. Connor, it''s your turn!"

    Connor grabs the bottle and spins it.

    This is a little bit fun, even if it''s really confusing. I hope they all do a "truth" for me so I can ask them the deserted island question, too.

 Chapter 0046

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    Last night was fun, but I didn''t sleep very well. I fell asleep¡­ at some point into the games and stuff, and then kept waking up and falling back asleep throughout the night, even after the others had fallen asleep. There weren''t any nightmares, though, so that was a positive thing.

    Oh! I can probably do that now, can''t I? It''s getting to the point I''m not sure I''ll fall back asleep again and it''s starting to be daytime. Well, the sun''s already been up for a bit but I mean that it''s past six-thirty in the morning.

    I get up from where I''d fallen asleep and look at the other boys. They''re all sleeping quietly and peacefully and it''s really nice. I wish I could sleep like that.

    Though I did sort of sleep similarly to them? At least for a little bit. The last time I woke up, I took off my shirt to see if maybe that would help with sleeping, since they''re all doing it without one on. It''s always been uncomfortable to wear one but I don''t like being shirtless around others.

    Just swimming with S.G. and the others pushes the limits for my comfort on that to the point that I wear my full-body swimsuit under the trunks for my swimming lessons on Mondays if I went swimming with them on Sunday.

    I grab my pajama shirt and my backpack, then go to the basement bathroom to get changed into an outfit for today. It''s just jeans and one of my older shirts, since we''re going to be outside working for a big part of the day. Well, I also change my socks and underwear, too, because there''s no way I''m wearing dirty ones for the day.

    Now that I''m changed and my dirty sleep clothes have been put into a bag and stuffed into my backpack, I look at the mirror. Seeing my blurry reflection reminds me about my glasses, so I hurry out of the bathroom to grab them from the coffee table. Once they''re on, I return to the bathroom and close the door.

    "I''m stupid," I whisper to my reflection, hoping no one else here has ears as good as mine. "And I''m bad at socializing. And bad at knowing what to do as a friend. But I slept without nightmares for the first time in a long time, even if I didn''t sleep very well. And I can bake with magic. That''s super fun. And I was able to come up with questions and dares on my own last night instead of just repeating ones they''d done."

    Though I think the other boys don''t understand dares too much, since it was more like challenging people to do stuff that they might not be able to finish. Like balancing a soda bottle on their head.

    That made me a lot more comfortable, though, since I didn''t have to do anything bad or that could get me into trouble. It also made things a lot more fun.

    Maybe it should''ve been called "Truth or Challenge"?

    I''ll ask them about that if I can remember it later. For now, I''m ready to do other stuff so I go upstairs. Ms. Rachel''s in the kitchen, looking at stuff.

    "Oh!" She says. "Hello, Xander! I wasn''t expecting anyone to be up yet."

    "The others are all still asleep," I tell her. "But I didn''t sleep very much. I kept waking up and it''s way past the time I normally get up and I''ve been awake for over forty-five minutes, so I figured it was time to get up. Is that okay?"

    "It is," she answers. "I was about to start making myself breakfast. Do you want some?"

    Breakfast? She''s offering me breakfast? I thought I had to bring my own so I''ve got stuff in my backpack. It''s almost seven, too, so it''s almost the normal time to eat. I wanted to ask about that, too, since I want to eat at the normal time. If I don''t eat then, if I don''t-it''s-I-but-stopstopstop! Clear the confusion away¡­ focus on what''s going on. That''s what I''m supposed to do, right?

    I perform a short deep breath and let it out just as fast. There.

    "Um¡­ what kind of breakfast?" I ask.

    "Bacon, eggs, and toast," she answers.

    "Oh."

    "You okay?"

    I didn''t mean to let her know that I don''t want that, but I also don''t want to lie and then get told I can''t hang out again. S.G. is fun to hang out. So are the other boys, but this is his aunt''s house so that''s what matters.

    "I don''t like bacon or eggs or toast," I tell her. "Um¡­ but I can still eat them. They''re not like beans or mustard."

    "That''s fine," she says. "I only just moved in on Monday and haven''t done real grocery shopping yet, just bought what I thought we''d be using for today. Sorry, Xander. I''d let you have cereal if I had some."

    Maybe if she''s okay with it¡­

    "Um¡­" I hesitate. "Can you say that again while I''m looking in your eyes?"

    "Why?"

    Oh, no! I''m in trouble, aren''t I? There''s no way around this without either not answering, which is bad, or by being truthful, which is bad because it''d tell her I don''t trust her. This is bad. This is really bad!

    "I can tell if people are lying if I''m looking in their eyes," please don''t be too mad! "It''s a magic I was born with and always happens."

    "Xander," she says. "You can look in my eyes," I do. "It''s fine if you''re not happy with what I have, I don''t have much. If I had cereal, I''d let you have some instead."

    She''s being honest.

    "I''ve got some in my backpack," I tell her. "And milk, too. I thought I had to bring my own breakfast."

    "You did?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I''ve never been to a sleepover before so I didn''t know how it works. Mostly. S.G. and the others told me some, like playing games."

    "For sleepovers," she says. "The hosting family usually provides breakfast."

    "Oh," my face heats up.

    That should have been obvious. Stupid me. Why do they even want to hang out with me?

    "If you want to eat your cereal, you can," she says. "And Xander?"

    "Yes, Ms. Rachel?"

    "Can you look me in the eyes again?"

    I look into her eyes again.

    "Mr. Thompson told me that you''re on the Autism spectrum," she says. "I don''t fully understand it or how it affects you, but he did tell me some things. He said you might get overstimulated or overwhelmed and need a quiet space to calm down a bit. If that happens, you can go to one of the spare bedrooms. They''re the second door on the left down that hall and the door at the very end of the hall. Their furniture hasn''t been set up yet, though, so you''d have to sit on the ground if you wanted to sit."

    "Really?" I ask. "I can go in them if I need to calm down or get away?"

    "Really," she answers.

    "Thanks, Ms. Rachel."

    "Also," she says. "He said that you might be able to handle the same work as the other boys, or you might need to do other work while we''re working on the backyard. Did you ever have to do stuff like yard work at the boys'' home?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "What sort of stuff did they have you?" She asks.

    "I usually did stuff separate from the other boys," I tell her. "Most of the time, my chore was cleaning the shed. Um. The outside, not the inside. I kept getting confused on where stuff went inside of it. But the shed kept getting green stuff on the outside, so I''d clean that off. I would mix vinegar and water together and then spray it with a spray bottle onto the siding, and then scrub it with a sponge. After, I''d get to use the hose and wash it off. Some of the other boys got mad that I got to use the hose, for some reason."

    "The shed here does need cleaning," she says. "So you can handle that. There are some shrubs and other stuff growing around it, though, and they need removing. Are you comfortable with that?"

    "I am," I pull off my backpack and open it up so I can pull out a pair of gloves. "Look, I even brought work gloves. I''ve got some pruning shears in here, too. I think that''s what they''re called."

    The work gloves are mine and I bought them on Monday while Mr. Trey, Ms. Katie, and I were out shopping. The small shears aren''t, though, as they belong to Mr. Harold for use when he''s trimming smaller stuff on Mr. Trey''s property. He said he can do without them for a couple of days, as he doesn''t use them every day.

    "That was very smart of you," Ms. Rachel says. "I''ve got some for everyone, too, in case they tear."

    In case the pruning shears tear? I''m not sure what sort of stuff she''s expecting us to cut with them, but I really doubt they''ll tear.

    Oh! She''s referring to the gloves, isn''t she?

    "Okay."

    "Go ahead and make your breakfast," she tells me.

    "Okay," I realize something. "Um. Ms. Rachel?"

    "Yes?"

    "You don''t have a dining table."

    "I have one, it''s just not built yet," she tells me. "It wasn''t as important to put together since we were getting the living room set up. You can sit in there if you want, alright?"

    "Alright."

    I sit at the coffee table and pull a bowl out of my backpack and set it down, then place a spoon next to it. A box of raisin bran is pulled out next, and I fill the bowl almost all the way full before closing the box and returning it to my backpack. Thankfully, I used the enchantment Greyson had in the database for being able to just reach in and grab what I want to pull out, so I don''t have to go digging around to find the milk.

    After pouring milk into the bowl, I pull out a banana and use a knife to cut it up, dropping the pieces in. Oh. I don''t have a good spot to put the knife. Thank goodness Ms. Katie insists on giving me napkins. I pull one out and set it down, then set the banana-touched bit of the knife onto that. The banana peel is folded up as best as I can do and set onto the napkin as well.

    "Why?" I ask Trenton, who I''ve set on the coffee table beside me.

    "Something wrong?" Ms. Rachel asks.

    "Yeah," I look at her. "Trenton wants me to put gummy bears in it for some reason. He''ll probably bother me about it for a week if I don''t and I don''t think there''s any harm in trying it even though it sounds weird."

    "Let me know how it tastes."

    She wants to know how it tastes? That''s confusing. It sounds weird so I can''t imagine it''d be something different.

    I pull out a container of gummy bears and add some to the bowl, then put the container and the milk back into my backpack and start eating. Just as I expected, the gummy bears are a weird addition.

    "Never ask me that again, please," I whisper to Trenton, then look at Ms. Rachel, who''s still making her breakfast. "It doesn''t taste that good with the gummy bears. They''re too chewy for the cereal, especially with the raisins already in it."

    Ms. Rachel comes in here to eat once she''s done making her breakfast, sitting on the couch rather than the floor. That makes sense, it''s her couch.

    "Is it okay if I wash my dishes in your sink?" I ask once I finish eating.

    "Go ahead," she says.

    "Okay," I get up and bring my stuff to the kitchen. "Is it okay if I throw my trash away?"

    "It is," she tells me.

    "Okay," I throw my trash in the can and make sure the lid closes, then I pull my dish soap out of my backpack and start washing my dishes.

    Once I''ve washed and dried my dishes, I stick them all back into my backpack, then quietly play with cards for a little bit. When Ms. Rachel finishes eating, she puts her dishes beside the sink and asks if I want to help move the stuff for today out to the yard.

    That doesn''t take very long since it''s just some yard waste bags, the gloves, and some tools. The yard looks even more overgrown than it did in the pictures S.G. posted in the group chat. Is this really something we can do in a single day?

    "Ms. Rachel?" I ask once we''ve moved everything onto the deck.

    "Yes?"

    "Is it okay if I get started now?" I ask. "I''m kind of bored right now."

    I''ll need to come back inside to brush my teeth in a little bit if she''s okay with that, but that doesn''t mean I can''t do stuff now.

    "Sure," she says. "You can leave your backpack where you want it. Start with the plants first, okay? That''ll make it easier to do the siding after."

    "Okay," I pull off my backpack and set it down, then pull out my work gloves. "What should I do with the stuff I cut down? And how much of it should I cut?"

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    I guess Xander left at some point during the night, since I don''t see him or his stuff down here anymore. He fell asleep before the rest of us did, but maybe he was just pretending in the hopes we''d calm down so we''d fall asleep and he could slip out? That''s kind of disappointing, I was looking forward to hanging out with him and he really got into the games last night.

    Even if he did keep trying to hide his yawns.

    While there are a lot of snacks still left, I make my way upstairs to see what''s for breakfast. The others are all still asleep right now but that doesn''t mean I can''t see about breakfast. Or brunch, I guess, since it''s about nine-thirty. We stayed up kind of late but not so late we''d sleep until noon.

    When I reach upstairs, I find Aunt Rachel in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

    "Paul said you boys normally wake around this time," she says when I give her a hug. "Are the others waking up?"

    "Let me go check!"

    I hurry back downstairs and tackle Connor awake, then wake the other two in a similar fashion. Now that we''re all up, we head upstairs and help Aunt Rachel fix breakfast.

    "I guess Xander left at some point," I say.

    We really must have been too much for him.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    "He''s out back," Aunt Rachel says.

    "He is?" I start to go that way, the others doing so as well.

    "Hold on," she says. "Eat breakfast first, boys. If you go out now, you''re going to want to play instead of work and you''ll forget all about breakfast."

    She knows us so well despite seeing us so little until these last couple of weeks.

    We finish helping make breakfast, then eat, then head downstairs to get changed. We''re still wearing just shorts since we know we''ll work up sweats and eventually take shirts off anyway, but we needed to put on clean clothes first and get our shoes and socks on. While we''re doing this, we spot Xander through the sliding doors leading out to the basement.

    He''s going in and out of the shed right now while flapping his hands for some reason. We can''t figure out what the heck he''s doing so once we get our shoes on, we head outside and walk over to him.

    "Hey, Xander!" I wave as he exits the shed again, hands still flapping. "Good morning!"

    "Morning, S.G.," Xander says. "And Connor, and Sam, and Isaac."

    "Morning!" The others greet him.

    "What''re you doing?" I ask. "We saw you keep walking in and out of the shed and flapping your hands."

    "Ms. Rachel said I could sweep inside the shed," Xander tells me. "But there''s a big spider and I don''t know how to kill it. It''s not on the floor so I can''t stomp on it."

    "Ooh! I got it! I got it!" I exclaim, then dash into the shed. "Where is it? Oh! There it is!"

    The spider''s on one of the walls near the floor. I pull off one of my shoes and slap it against the wall where the spider was, then pull my shoe away and look at it.

    "Got it!" I hop out of the shed and wipe my shoe on the grass, then pull it back on. "Spider''s dead, Xander!"

    "Thanks," Xander enters the shed and starts sweeping as if nothing happened.

    How did he flip so fast on that? He went from not knowing what to do to going right back to what he was doing as soon as the spider was gone.

    "Xander?" I ask.

    "Ms. Rachel said I could use the broom to get rid of the webs."

    He was in the middle of swiping at the web from the spider when I said that, so I guess he thought I was wanting to ask him about that.

    "Never mind that," I say. "How long have you been out here?"

    "Um¡­ at least two hours, I think?" He doesn''t seem certain. "I got all the bushes around the shed trimmed back and the shed walls cleaned. Ms. Rachel said it''ll have to get replace at some point but she says that Mr. Derrick checked it and it shouldn''t have any stability problems for now so it''s safe to use. I don''t know who Mr. Derrick is."

    "Mr. Derrick?" I ask. "Oh! Mr. Fuller! He came on Monday to help us with getting the furniture and stuff!"

    "So it''s Mr. Fuller," Xander mutters.

    "Aren''t you hot doing work in that shirt?" Isaac asks. "It''s got long sleeves and looks warm."

    "I''m a little hot," Xander says. "But it''s okay."

    "You don''t have a lighter one?" I ask.

    "Yeah, but it would make me hotter."

    He seems agitated. We should probably stop asking him why he''s not wearing something lighter before he gets really mad. I don''t get why he''s agitated, though, we''re just worried about him overheating and passing out. That''s not fun to do.

    "We''re gonna go see what Aunt Rachel wants us to do!" I tell him.

    "Okay."

    We leave the shed and talk with Aunt Rachel, who sets us to trimming more of the bushes and pulling out vines and stuff. The bush and shrub stems are cut into pieces, and all of the yard waste is put into brown yard waste bags. There are already a few of them filled up, probably from the stuff that Xander put in.

    Now that I''m looking, I realize just how different the yard looks already just from Xander cleaning up around the shed and cleaning the shed itself. It already looks a lot bigger with just a little bit of space cleaned up and trimmed back!

    When Xander finishes cleaning the inside of the shed (at one point, we hear "Ha! You went on the ground!" right before a thump, so I think another spider showed up), he starts working on cleaning the siding for the house itself.

    Aunt Rachel brings us all lemonade to drink while we work, but mostly supervises us to make sure we''re trimming the bushes and shrubs stuff the way she wants. Once we get a shrub cut back enough, we also have to dig out the old stems and get rid of those so they don''t just start growing right back.

    Since we all woke up late, we''re not really hungry for lunch by noon so Aunt Rachel tells us that it''s at one.

    "What about Xander?" Sam asks. "Hasn''t he been up for hours longer?"

    "Yeah!" I say. "You''re not gonna make him wait, are you? Wait, where''d he go?"

    "He said he thinks he can wait," Aunt Rachel tells us. "I think he went to the bathroom, he went inside a couple of minutes ago after asking about it."

    "Maybe he left?" Connor asks.

    "His backpack''s still on the deck!" I say. "See! You can see it from here!"

    Mostly because of the bright green on it.

    "There''s no way he''d forget that," I say. "He''ll be back out! Let''s get back to work!"

    We return to working and after a few minutes, Xander returns outside, goes up to the deck, grabs his backpack, and returns inside. I guess he is leaving¡­ damn. We were hoping he''d stick around to play games after.

    Another five minutes pass, and I need to take a break so I can go to the bathroom. I hurry inside and nearly trip over Xander as I go behind the couch on the way to the basement bathroom. He''s just as soaked in sweat as I am, and he''s still wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

    That is so weird, but he does his own thing, I guess.

    "Oh!" I say. "I thought you left! What''re you doing in here?"

    Xander doesn''t say anything, just stares at me.

    "I gotta pee!" I tell him. "I''ll be back in a minute!"

    I hurry to the bathroom and after I finish up in there, I come back out.

    "Are you taking a break?" I ask.

    "A small one," he answers. "I was getting really hot. Ms. Rachel said it was okay to take a break if I needed one."

    "Why are you behind the couch?"

    "Um¡­" he suddenly looks nervous and trying to think of what to say.

    So there''s a reason, but he doesn''t want to say? Well, it''s not really important! It''s not like he''s stealing anything or that he''d broken something.

    "Well, come back out when you''re ready!" I tell him.

    Xander nods, and I head back outside. As I''m opening the sliding door, there''s a familiar popping noise.

    He just opened up a container. He''s sneaking snacks. Oh! That''s why he didn''t talk before ¨C he had food in his mouth and didn''t want to let me know he was eating! The reason he was trying to figure out what to say was that he didn''t have to mention his snacks to me, since those are meant for him.

    I leave the house and close the door without saying anything about the snacks, then rejoin the others.

    "Xander''s cooling off," I tell them. "He got really hot."

    "He did?" Aunt Rachel asks. "I''ll make sure he has something to drink," her phone rings, and she pulls it out, then starts walking toward the house. "Hey, Derrick! We''re out back right now. Come on around, I''ll let you in."

    "Mr. Fuller''s here?" Connor asks.

    "He''s come over to help a bit as well," Aunt Rachel tells us as she heads over to the gate.

    She lets in Hunter and Mr. Fuller, and Hunter has a green grocery bag in his left hand. Whatever is in it seems heavy by the way it''s pushing down the bottom of it. Good thing it''s made of a sturdy material!

    "Hey, Hunter!" I wave to him.

    "Hey, S.G.!" He waves back. "And Connor and¡­ it''s Sam and Isaac, right?"

    "Yup!" Sam says. "What''d you bring? Is it ice cream?"

    "No!" He laughs. "Dad insisted on bringing some fruits and stuff for smoothies, since we''re all working outside."

    "Those can go in the kitchen," Aunt Rachel tells him.

    "Hi, Hunter."

    We all look over to see Xander approaching from the basement. Hunter frowns as he looks at him, clearly not knowing who Xander is. Did Xander catch his name? But I don''t think he could have since I''m pretty sure he hadn''t opened the door yet when we said it.

    Plus, he seems comfortable with Hunter, as if he knows him.

    "Do I know you?" Hunter asks.

    "Sort of?" Xander seems uncertain. "We met a few years ago. I was at the mall with my former foster brother and you punched him. It was very impressive. You were, like, thirteen and he was sixteen. I think you were thirteen, anyway. You''d seen him pulling on my arm and practically dragging me behind him and told him to stop ''cause it was hurting me and then he pushed you and you punched him."

    His old foster-brother did what to him?

    "Oh!" Hunter''s face lights up. "It''s¡­ Xander, right? You said former foster brother? So you''re not living with him anymore?"

    "I think he got fed to a griffin."

    "Uh¡­"

    "I got put in a boys'' home not long after you punched him," Xander tells Hunter. "And then at the start of last month, I got moved into Mr. Trey''s house. He''s really nice and it''s a big house. S.G. was teaching me fist bumps last night. Can I give you one?"

    "Sure!" Hunter holds out a fist, and Xander gives it a bump with his own. "Like your new home?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods, then looks at Aunt Rachel. "I''m going to get back to cleaning. Sorry for taking a break."

    "You''re good," she says. "Your stuff is where you left it."

    Xander nods and heads up to the porch to put his backpack down and grab his cleaning supplies, then returns to washing the sides of the house.

    "I''m gonna take this inside," Hunter lifts up the bag a little. "Then I''ll be back out to help."

    We get back to work while the adults talk, and Hunter joins us boys in trimming bushes and shrubs and ripping out weeds and ivy. Like any boy doing yard work in summer, Hunter takes off his shirt pretty fast due to how warm it is. At least it''s not a day like when the fire elemental was raising the temperature out of boredom. That would be awful, and I think we''d all be changing into swim trunks and using the hose to cool off.

    As it''s nearing one in the afternoon, the dads all show up. Mr. Michaels and Mr. Richardson disappear inside with their own grocery bags, while Aunt Rachel and Mr. Thompson start doing something at the pool.

    "Hey, Sig?" Aunt Rachel looks over at me. "Can you get Xander and let him know they''re preparing lunch? I told him earlier he could help if he wanted."

    "Okay!" I locate Xander out front and let him know, and he returns to the back to put his cleaning stuff down before grabbing his backpack and going inside.

    It''s as I return to the other boys that I realize that Xander didn''t seem uncomfortable going in there even though it''s just adults. Whoa. Does that mean he''s starting to trust them?

    Or maybe he''s just too tired to be nervous. He did look kind of sleepy.

    When lunch comes out, it''s sandwiches with baby carrots, celery segments, and cherry tomatoes, and we get a choice of fruit smoothies to drink. Everyone gathers on the deck to eat and¡­

    "Where''s Xander?" I ask.

    "He sat on the couch to take a break," Mr. Michaels says. "And passed right out."

    "Oh, okay!" I say.

    We dig into our food and once we''re done, get back to work. Sort of. We do a little bit of fencing with some of the shrub stems, since they''re long and slender and not all of them are leafy.

    "Sig!" Aunt Rachel calls overafter about five minutes of that.

    "Sorry!" I exclaim.

    "You''re fine," she chuckles. "Paul and I are heading to the store to pick up some stuff. Behave while I''m gone."

    "Yes, ma''am!" I salute.

    "You as well, Connor," Mr. Thompson gives me a light thump on the head.

    "Will do!"

    They leave and we return to cleaning stuff up. When Aunt Rachel and Mr. Thompson returns, it turns out that they went to get stuff for the pool and they work on replacing the parts which need it. Then, Connor and I are pulled over to help clean the pool while Sam and Isaac keep working on the yard and fence.

    We don''t change into our swim trunks, but we do have to take off our shoes and socks since our feet will be getting wet as we rinse off the sides. The grime on the bottom of the pool does not feel pleasant. Also kind of squishy.

    While we do this, Mr. Thompson helps Aunt Rachel install an automatic pool cover for the pool, so that it can be closed when not in use. The fixtures for installing it are already there so one just needs to be installed.

    Connor and I spend almost an hour cleaning the inside of the pool, sometimes using the hose to wash things. We really need to scrub it. A few times, though, we get told to stop spraying each other with the water.

    I really want to spay them with it, but they might take away our hose privileges.

    Once it''s been cleaned and rinsed, Mr. Thompson uses some sort of pump to pull the water out of the pool, then sets the hose to start filling the pool.

    "That''s gonna take forever, isn''t it?" I ask. "Wait! Does this mean we''ll get to swim today!"

    "Yes, and yes," Mr. Thompson answers. "We only want to get a couple of inches filled in for now. A truck''s coming with treated water to fill the pool much more quickly but you want at least a little bit of water in already so the high-pressure water isn''t slamming straight into the pool tiles."

    "Oh! That makes sense!"

    "Ms. Rachel," Xander comes out onto the deck. "There''s a big truck here and they say they have water?"

    "Did you have a good nap?" I ask Xander.

    "Yeah," he says as I realize that he''s already sweaty again.

    "Did you get all sweaty just coming out here?" I ask. "Is it really that hot?"

    "I woke up awhile ago," Xander says. "I was cleaning the side of the house when they got here. Ms. Rachel? What should I tell them?"

    "I''m coming," she says.

    About ten minutes later, the truck has a big hose going into the pool and water is blasting into it. They said it should take a little more than an hour to fill the pool all the way up, and we manage to finish clearing the weeds, bushes, shrubs, and ivy by the time it''s done. Xander''s finished cleaning the siding for the house, too.

    Well, mostly. Mr. Michaels helped him with the higher bits since they were out of his reach even with a stepstool, though I don''t think Xander even used that, for some reason.

    "Can we go swimming now?" I ask after Mr. Thompson checks the water and makes sure it''s okay. "I wanna go swimming! It''s sooooooo hot!"

    "You boys are all sweaty and gross," he says. "You''ll need to take showers first. And we''ll be ordering dinner shortly."

    "Oooh!" I say. "What''s for dinner?"

    "Is it pizza?" Sam asks. "It''s pizza, isn''t it?"

    "Actually," Aunt Rachel looks at Mr. Thompson. "Trey volunteered to bring stuff to grill for us. He should be here any minute now."

    "Mr. Caldwell''s coming?" I ask. "With stuff to grill? Wait. We don''t have a grill."

    "I bought one while we were getting the stuff for the pool," Aunt Rachel tells me.

    "Ms. Katie''s coming, too," Xander adds. "I asked if she was when Mr. Trey asked if I was okay with him coming for dinner. Um¡­ did I ask you if that was okay? I think I did but maybe I didn''t¡­"

    "You did," Aunt Rachel tells him, and he looks massively relieved.

    "Okay," he nods a little.

    "Speaking of the grill," Aunt Rachel says. "I should get that set up."

    "I''ll help," Mr. Fuller says.

    They bring the box with the grill out to the deck and begin setting it up, and us boys start playing in the yard for a bit. There''s no point in us all taking showers for swimming since the only way we''d hope to finish in time for dinner would be if we paired up in the different showers and that would be way too cramped for comfort. We''d also still not have much time to do actual swimming.

    So we''ll go swimming after dinner.

    Xander sits on the slope of the yard to watch us play; I think he''s tired again and he declines playing when we ask.

    Mr. Caldwell shows up not long after we start that, along with Ms. Katie. Xander gets up then and takes one of the bags from Ms. Katie to take onto the porch, and from it he pulls out the apron I see him wearing in some of the pictures he posts in the group chat.

    "Oh!" I jump a little. "Are you making dinner, Xander?"

    "I''m helping," Xander says. "But Mr. Trey is the one doing most of it. I need to go wash my hands."

    Xander disappears into the house while Mr. Trey starts pulling stuff out of the bags and setting them on the deck. We go back to playing while they work on dinner and when we''re called for dinner, we find that it''s meat-and-veggies skewers. Salad and cornbread are the sides, along with chunks of cantaloupe, honeydew, and watermelon.

    While the three fruits are in their own bowls¡­ I''m suspecting Xander''s the reason the one with the watermelon is on the opposite side of the table as the other two. He really wanted to avoid touching the watermelon yesterday so I think he wants to make sure its juices won''t get mixed in with the others.

    The adults eat up on the porch while we boys ¨C Hunter included ¨C sit in the grass to eat.

    "This is really good!" I tell Xander after taking a bite. "Whoa!"

    "That''s the marinade," Xander says. "Mr. Trey made it earlier. All I did was skewer the veggies and meat the way Mr. Trey said to. He cut them up and grilled them, too."

    "It''s really good!" I say. "So Mr. Trey can cook?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods, then leans in close so he can whisper. "But he''s not very good at breakfast stuff so if Ms. Katie isn''t cooking then, he usually orders something or wants to go out to eat."

    We all giggle a little at that, and Xander just looks confused. I guess he doesn''t find that funny but the rest of us do.

    After dinner, we take care of the dishes, then split off to take showers so we can go swimming without being covered in dried sweat. I take mine first in the downstairs bathroom while Connor uses the upstairs one. Sam and Isaac will take theirs after.

    "S.G.," Xander says once I''m on my way to the yard again.

    "Yeah?" I look at him.

    He''s wearing his backpack and holding Trenton, which gives the impression that he''s getting ready to leave.

    "Mr. Trey, Ms. Katie, and I are heading back to the house now," he tells me. "Thanks for inviting me to hang out and have the sleepover. It was a lot of fun."

    "I''m glad you enjoyed it!" I tell him. "Though I guess all the yard work was boring, huh? You could have helped us, you didn''t have to do all the siding on your own."

    "Mr. Michaels helped a lot," he says. "And it''s okay. I didn''t mind it. Um. I''ll, um¡­ I''ll see you again."

    What''s with the weird goodbye?

    "See you!" I hold out a fist. "Bump it?"

    Xander gives me a fist bump, then heads upstairs.

    I head out back and run to the pool and jump into the deep end. We worked all day, so it''s time for fun!

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says as I exit the bedroom, dressed in more comfortable clothes rather than the old and sweat-soaked ones I had on when we got back to the house. I just scrubbed myself super clean of it in the shower and feel much better now. "Rachel said she was going to pay you boys for the help, right?"

    Oh. Was I supposed to decline the payment because I earned a lot of money on Monday?

    "She paid me before we left," I tell him. "It was one hundred dollars. She gave it to me in five twenties. That''s a lot."

    "It is," he says. "I just wanted to double-check that you were paid as promised."

    If he wanted to double-check, I guess that means he doesn''t trust her. I don''t really trust her, either. I don''t know her that well.

    "I was," I tell him. "Ms. Rachel said she gave me a little bit extra since I started earlier than the others did. I woke up at my usual time this morning ¨C well, the last time I woke up was my usual time ¨C and got bored after breakfast waiting for them, so I asked her if I could start then. They took longer to come out."

    "Did you enjoy yourself?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "During the sleepover," I tell him. "Not while working. I wasn''t trying to then because I was working."

    Though that didn''t stop S.G. and the others from goofing off a lot. It probably would have been okay if I did, but I wanted to get the work I was assigned done.

    "I''m sure they would have been fine," he says.

    "Can I watch something in the theater?" I ask. "I''m feeling really sleepy ''cause I didn''t sleep that well last night."

    "Go ahead," he says. "Katie put a preservation box in there with a berry pie, in case you wanted some, and there''s some ice cream she mixed up earlier in the freezer."

    "Thank you," I say.

    "You''re welcome," he says. "And Xander?"

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "It''s okay if you fall asleep while watching something."

    That''s a relief. There''s a good chance I might fall asleep by the end of the documentary, depending on how long it is. My accidental nap earlier wasn''t that long, while I worked a lot today and I didn''t sleep much last night. I want to try and stay up until bedtime, but I might not manage it.

    "Okay," I say. "Um. Do you want to watch something with me?"

    "I have a few things to do," he says. "But if you want me to come watch something with you, I can come in after I finish."

    "Um¡­"I try to think of a good response. "It doesn''t matter to me."

    There. A good, honest response.

    "Alright," he says. "I''ll be down in about forty minutes, then."

    "Okay," I say. "Sorry in advance if I accidentally eat all of the pie again."

 Chapter 0047

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts towards the beginning of Chapter 46.

    "Parker," I semi-whisper as I poke him in the side. "Parker. ParkerParkerParker! Parker! Parker! ParkerParkerParker!"

    "Luuuke!" Parker groans as he slaps my hand. "Let me sleep some more!"

    "We''ve gotta get up so we can eat breakfast before heading over to Xander''s."

    Parker spent the night here after the festivities ended and Tyler went back to the hotel where he''s staying with his dad. For whatever reason, Tyler''s dad is really resistant to letting Tyler spend the night with us, and Tyler even tried asking. That''s really annoying, I love hanging out with him. My bed''s even big enough for all three of us to sleep in without touching ¨C Parker and I slept on opposite sides of it last night and there was plenty of space in the middle for, like, five more of us.

    Okay, maybe not that many unless we were crammed together, but still. It''s plenty big, and if his dad didn''t like that, well, we have plenty of guest rooms.

    I guess it was a little for the better, since Tyler would have to leave before we did for Xander''s lessons, and that would probably be too early for his dad to pick him up.

    "Come on, come on, come on," I poke Parker again. "Get up and get dressed!"

    While Parker drags himself out of bed, I slip off of it and slip my sneakers on, then head downstairs to the dining room. My parents already have breakfast on the table and a pot of coffee brewing.

    "Don''t share that with Parker," I tell Mom as she pours coffee for herself and Dad. "It''s gonna stunt his growth."

    "You know that''s a myth, right?" Mom asks me.

    "He''s thirteen, he shouldn''t be getting addicted."

    "You''re thirteen," Mom says. "And you''re addicted to magic."

    "Okay, that''s different," I tell her. "I''m brimming with magic and need it to live. I don''t remember if I told you, but no draining my mana today. Xander wants to try putting up with me at full mana even though my hyperness bothers him and-"

    "There aren''t any lessons today," Dad tells me.

    "Huh?" I ask. "Why not? Is Xander sick or something? Maybe he got sick after going to the fair? Did he go to the fair? That would be weird if he did since he doesn''t like crowds and noisy things, and-"

    "Trey called a little bit ago," Dad tells me. "He meant to call last night but forgot because of the hour. Xander spent the night at his friends'' place and is helping them with stuff today, so there aren''t any classes."

    Xander will spend the night with four boys even though that''s got to be way more hyper than spending the night with Parker and me. It''s just another sign of how much he doesn''t really like me. Why do I have to have this problem? I really can''t help the hyper babbling and movements when I''ve got a lot of mana and it sucks. Sucks, sucks, sucks!

    "Parker''s gonna be so disappointed," I say. "Hey! Can I see if Tyler wants to hang out? I-"

    Dad''s phone rings, and he tells me to sit and eat while he answers the call.

    "Good morning, General," Dad says.

    It''s the general? The only reason we get called by him is if the magic special forces are struggling with something and we''re the best option to deal with it. There are a few families which hold that status, with the Lumaria Kings being the last resort.

    "He''s awake," Dad says as I start serving myself stuff. "What''s up?"

    A request for me? The last time they asked me for help, it was with some lightning beasts that were a little bit more powerful than my parents. When dealing with creatures of lightning magic, the best counter for it is lightning and that''s something my family specializes in.

    "Hey, Parker," I say as Parker approaches the table. "Guess what? Xander''s got not classes today so we can hang out all day! I''m gonna see if Tyler can hang out."

    "I got woken up for nothing," Parker groans as he plops himself into the chair beside me. "Can we cancel the hangout and go back to bed?"

    "You might be able to," Dad tells him, then looks at me. "Luke, they want to know if you''re willing to get flown out to an island to deal with something immediately."

    "Immediately?" I ask. "Dude, it''s gotta wait until after breakfast. I''m a growing boy! You really think I''d turn down bacon or go do work on an empty stomach? What are you, insane? You should always make sure I''m well-fed and ready for battle! Oh! Speaking of battle! Tyler was-"

    "Luuuuke!" Parker whines. "I''m still waking uuuuup!"

    "Here, have some orange juice," I grab the pitcher of it and a glass and start filling. "That''ll wake you up for sure! Way better than coffee, too!"

    "Luke," Dad says. "Yes or no? They need it as soon as possible, but can wait until you finish breakfast."

    "Oh, sure!" I say. "Will I get to fight some monsters?"

    "Maybe," Dad answers. "He needs someone with the ability to perform high-level impacts at speed. You''re the best person in the country for the job, exempting the Kings."

    A high-level impact that Mom and Dad can''t do, or any of the others at similar levels of power? That suggests they need one of two types of magic for it: force or lightning. Wind would work as well. However, that''s also the code the general uses for "we''ve got a tough as heck barrier that our tools can''t damage quicker than the barrier repairs".

    I''m about to say sure when I realize something important. If I do this job, I probably won''t be able to hang out with Tyler again before he leaves. He told us yesterday that he and his dad are leaving tomorrow to return to doing hunts so today''s the last chance I have before then. They never know how long they''ll be gone and while the last couple of hunts were shorter, he could be gone for weeks.

    As much as I want to turn this down so that I can hang out with Tyler some more¡­ this is sort of an unspoken obligation for high-level mages. I''m not required to do this work, but it earns goodwill and favors for when I need it. Taking on this job will also help me, personally, build professional connections with the military.

    While it might seem wrong for a thirteen-year-old to think about that sort of thing, I''m a thirteen-year-old who builds magitech generators and who wants to inherit his family''s company. There are times I might need to call in a favor to get some materials for a project, materials I can''t normally acquire on my own.

    Mom and Dad already do that from time to time. I might even be able to use this to get some help acquiring something I want for a personal project. It''s a rare mineral found mainly in the shells of a specific monster which only shows up in a few areas and those areas are under military control for unrelated reasons, so the magic special forces are almost exclusively the only source of it in the country.

    Why did I have to make a cool friend who''s rarely around? Argh!

    "I''ll do it!" I say.

    "He says he''ll do it," Dad tells the general. "Alright. Luke, he says they''ll have someone here to pick you up in thirty minutes."

    "Got it!"

    I hurry through breakfast, then head up to my room to change into my proper combat outfit. The base for it is a silvery unitard, over which I pull on specialized armor pieces made of a high-quality synthetic shells with a specialized fabric covering, the insides of them padded. The fabric itself is blue with golden stitching, and I look sort of like a hero from comics and shows in it, minus a cape.

    As I change, Parker shows up and switches back into his sleepwear before just flopping himself onto my bed.

    "Wake me up when the hour''s reasonable," he says before passing right back out.

    He''ll wake on his own before I get back, I''m sure.

    I finish changing and lace up my boots, then head to the bathroom to brush my teeth before slipping on my gloves. There''s a little bit of time to kill before the truck shows up, so I text Tyler a picture of my outfit.

    He replies immediately! That''s awesome!

    [Tyler]: Damn! You going monster hunting?

    [Luke]: Something like that! Was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out, but I don''t know how long it''ll take!

    [Tyler]: I can!

    [Tyler]: But it''s gotta be before eight so lemme know when you''re back and we can see

    [Tyler]: Eight tonight, not this morning!

    [Luke]: Will do!

    [Luke]: They''re here! Gotta go!

    I pocket my phone, then bid goodbye before leaving and heading out to the military truck that''s pulling up. The driver is a man in his early forties, dressed in black combat gear with the logo of the US Magic Corp on one shoulder and the nation''s flag on his other. He''s not the general, but is the usual driver for when they have to take me somewhere.

    The trip to the base doesn''t take very long since he can speed without getting pulled over, and I''m quickly brought to a plane where a lot of soldiers are already seated in the back. They''re all young men in their late teens and early twenties, fresh faces heading out to wherever the operation is.

    Since they''re normal magic special forces members, they''re wearing the all-black combat uniforms of such. They''re not people who are called in for stealth, not in the slightest. Camouflage means nothing to them other than "that''s what other groups are for".

    If MSF gets called in, they''re called in to be battering rams and bombs, not needles in a haystack.

    The soldiers all give me confused looks, but I ignore them as I take a seat. Forty-three. That''s how many MSF soldiers are seated back here. Just what the heck is this operation if they''re bringing in this many fresh members?

    "Soldiers!" An officer steps into the seating area from the front as the plane takes off. "We''re heading out to the islands off the east coast today! Most of you will be spending the next six months there at a minimum, assisting the soldiers already present in culling the demon tide that''s occurred!"

    A demon tide? Damn. That''s what it''s called when a long-lasting rift opens up and regularly lets out low-level demons instead of closing after releasing just a few. If it''s the island cluster I''m suspecting, they''re prone to having that happen, but it''s been about eight years since the last incident. Nobody really knows how to seal up the rifts so we have to wait it out.

    Since it''s a regular occurrence on those island, we have a base there. Lesser rifts open up all the time and they need to make sure the demons are located and put down before they can find a way off the island ¨C or taken out before they fly off for the ones which can.

    The office continues going over the plan, the flight itself taking about three hours. It''s a high-speed plane, able to travel thousands of miles in a short time. Magics woven into the jet give a smoother, less-noisy flight for us, so we don''t need special headgear to hear each other talk.

    Which is probably why there''s some chatter among the soldiers, including confusion about the kid. While they go over what''s going on, I look through a tablet I was given at the base to see what my specific job is.

    This particular rift let out some mid-level demons that erected a barrier around the zone around it, making it more difficult for the soldiers to take on the lesser demons. With a base set up, the demons have been building up their numbers, which has the corp concerned they''re going to try to launch an attack on the military base we''ve set up there.

    A low-level demon can be taken out by a single magic special forces soldier. A mid-level one can be taken out by a unit of ten. That''s with their own magic, not including their gear. The soldiers usually work in groups as well, which makes handling things easier when the demons group up for battle.

    While such an attack can be handled, they want that barrier gone so that they can begin taking out the lesser ones on their terms.

    Which is where I come in. My job is to break that barrier and take out the mid-level demons. It seems that the mid-level ones only came out in the first few days, and it''s only been low-level ones ever since.

    This isn''t on the scale of what happened to cause Interception Day to happen so it''s not a major threat to the nation, they just want to make sure it doesn''t become a problem that affects civilians. The barrier seems to be one that will take around 9,000 units of mana in power to break through it in a single strike at a minimum. Possibly more.

    No wonder they wanted me instead of my parents. They could probably break the barrier, but then they''d not have enough power left to handle the mid-level demons and make sure the barrier is down for good. A barrier like that will have some sort of power source from the demons and so that will need to be taken out as well.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Yep, there it is. Their notes on the barrier mentions that it repairs itself fairly quickly, which is why they can''t just pepper it with attacks until it cracks. Our military is good, but even high-level weaponry has around a third of the power as needed to break the barrier.

    It''s rare for us to need something even stronger than what the magic special forces soldiers can do with their own power so we don''t keep very many of that sort of thing on-hand. That''s why they''ll call in even higher-level mages for help.

    "I''m still confused about why there''s a kid here," one of the soldiers says to the one to his right. "And that outfit is-"

    "Gatewood!" The officer calls from the hatch as it begins to lower. "We''re at your stop!"

    "Alright!" I unbuckle and get up, setting the table down.

    "No parachute?" A soldier asks. "Wait, you''re dumping a kid out?"

    I turn around as I reach the edge.

    "See you all at the base!" I salute, then step backwards.

    As I begin the free-fall from thirty thousand feet, I turn around and lightning-charge my body to allow me an easier time controlling my descent, something I do face-first because it feels amazing. This lightning-charged state is different from the one I normally go in. Without needing to worry about damage to the area or civilian casualties, I have no reason to hold back so I don''t.

    It isn''t just my body that''s sparking here but the air itself just by being in my presence.

    I can feel the electricity of the soldiers sparking strongly at my jump, and I''m sure the officer''s called up the plane''s feed of me so they can watch. It''s got a good magitech camera so they''ll be able to watch me even as they travel away.

    That means I should really put on a good show, so I quickly assess the situation in the moments after I jump. The barrier appears to be a shimmering dome of transparent red energy which stretches roughly a mile in diameter and within it, I can see crude buildings made by the demons and hundreds of demons milling about.

    Near the center of the base but not quite is the rift, a jagged tear in space filled with black and red energy. Nothing can be seen through it, but a demon exits as I descend. They come in a wide variety, but most are scaly or fleshy with coal-black and/or red scales and flesh. Lesser ones have extremely bestial forms and a single horn atop their heads, while mid-level ones have more primate-like forms, including some that are rather humanoid, and a pair of horns atop their heads.

    I''ve never seen a high-level one before, but those are apparently extremely humanoid in form with three horns. None of the electricity sources I can feel are stronger than what I''ve experienced before, so it probably is just twenty mid-level demons and hundreds of low-level ones.

    Five towers have been constructed of some sort of warped red stone, and I can see demons milling about atop them. Hmph. Faking watchtowers to conceal the real power sources for the barrier. The observation notes I was given mentions that MSF suspects the power sources to be some smaller buildings that are more heavily-guarded and clustered closer to the center of the zone..

    But I know better. I can see better in this state.

    And when I''m a hundred feet above the barrier, I flip myself around as a surge of magic surrounds me, lightning filling the air.

    Then I crash through the barrier like the god of lightning I am. On impact, lightning spreads out and dances across the entire dome, shattering it. I hit the ground with an impact hard enough that I would be a pancake if I weren''t using magic.

    An impact that creates a crater in the ground as more lightning blasts outward, zipping towards the five towers and obliterating them. On impact, my lightning doesn''t just obliterate the towers ¨C it spreads in wide bursts, wiping out the areas around the towers as well.

    The barrier had begun repairing itself from my initial attack already, but the destruction of the towers puts a stop to that.

    I''ve wiped out basically the entire demon base now. This was fun! I want to jump down like that again! Next time, there better be something that can withstand the initial impact so I can make a two-finger "come at me, bro" motion and then wipe the floor with it! If I''d realized it would be this easy, I wouldn''t have even crashed through the barrier itself, that was just for show!

    Taking out everything without crashing down would have actually been magically cheaper. My parents could''ve done that if the barrier wasn''t in the way!

    Since my work here is done, it''s time to see if I can''t get some of that metal!

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Luke?" Mom says as I enter the house. "What''s that in your hands?

    "It''s a box!"

    "I can see that," she says. "It looks heavy."

    "It is!"

    "What''s in it?"

    "A cubic foot of mythronium!" I answer. "It''s too rare to use in generators, but I''m betting it''ll work wonders in remote-controlled cars!"

    "There is no way you need that much of it," Mom says.

    "Well, yeah," I say. "But this means I won''t need to worry about getting it again for awhile!"

    "How did you convince them to give you that much?" Mom asks.

    "I tried putting on a show since I was sure they''d be watching and did things too fast."

    "You took out the entire demon base, didn''t you?"

    I''m the one who told my parents, which is probably why Mom was waiting near the door when I got home since she knew I was on my way. I was never forced into an NDA regarding the job, and they wouldn''t bother trying, either. The magic special forces isn''t a secret forces, and everyone knows that they often deal with demon attacks.

    Most people would either not believe that they called in a thirteen-year-old to handle something MSF couldn''t or they''d believe it and just be like "yup, sounds about right". Those who don''t believe there are true powerhouses in the world and those who accept that we''ll sometimes be called to deal with things.

    And not required to do them, either. The government watches us but doesn''t control us. We have zero obligation to work as soldiers. As long as we behave, they don''t call in other big guns. If said big guns aren''t big enough, Adrian King steps in.

    Now that I think about it, he probably controls the whole world from behind the scenes. It''s probably why I''ve never heard about him needing to step in to get out-of-control mages back to behaving.

    "Is Parker still here?" I ask. "Or did he go home?"

    "You didn''t answer my question," Mom says.

    "You call in a thirteen-year-old to do something," I say. "He''s gonna go all-out. You can''t stop it. It''s just a part of us and how we are. Like, if you were to ask Xander to sit down and eat a cheesecake? You''ve gotta specify not the whole cheesecake if you want even crumbs left. Well, he''s only twelve, but that''s definitely a sign of how things will be once he''s thirteen. I mean, just think about it, he''s-"

    "Parker''s in the game room," Mom tells me.

    "Oh, cool!" I say. "Hey, can I call Tyler and see if he wants to come over? We''ve still got a few hours before his curfew!"

    "Go ahead," she says. "Let me know if he''ll be here before dinner. I''m just getting ready to get started on it."

    "I thought it was Dad''s night for dinner?"

    "He went to the office to deal with an emergency," she tells me. "Go on."

    "Alright!"

    I take the box to my at-home workshop, then text Tyler to see if he''ll come over while I change into shorts and a tee. He can, so I let Mom know before heading to the game room where Parker''s logged into his account to play New Frontiers of Zenzialtz, which is surprising. He''s chilling with a large bucket of popcorn and a cup of soda, the lights of the game room turned low.

    Mom calls it a game room, but that''s because that''s what I use it for the most: gaming. It''s a theater room like at Xander''s, except with eighteen seats instead of twelve. I''ve never had that many people over, but that''s fine because I get to play with Parker in here!

    "You haven''t beaten it yet?" I ask. "You normally have that stuff done in like, two weeks!"

    He''d have needed to restart the game to play on my system, but he''d only do that if he hasn''t beaten it on his own yet. I don''t understand why he''d have two different playthroughs of it going at once, but it doesn''t affect me so who cares?

    "Luke?"

    "Yes?"

    "It came out a week ago," he rolls his eyes. "And I don''t play it all day long, you know. It''ll probably take me more than a month or two."

    "Cool!" I say. "Hey, by the way, Tyler''s coming over! He can only stay until eight, though. Mom said she''ll send him up to us once he gets here. Why the long face?"

    "Can''t we just hang out?" He half-whines. "Why does he have to come over?"

    Parker doesn''t like Tyler?

    "What''s wrong with him hanging out with us?" I ask. "He''s a cool dude! And he can talk about magic with me! And he''s a monster hunter!"

    "Well, yeah," Parker says. "But it''s like as soon as he''s in town, you''ve gotta hang out with him all the time!"

    "What''s wrong with that?" I ask. "He''s a cool dude and my second friend! I can have other friends, Parker! We hang out all the time, too!"

    Parker huffs and sinks down in his seat. What''s wrong with him? He had other friends until he ditched them for being jerks but as soon as I have another friend, he doesn''t want me to have friends other than him?

    "If you don''t want to hang out with Tyler," I say. "You can go on home. No one''s forcing you to be here and hang out with him. But it''s my home and he''s my friend. We can hang out plenty just the two of us when he''s gone."

    Parker just huffs again and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

    I fix myself some snacks and sit beside Parker to watch him as he plays through the second chapter of the game. He''s almost completed it and is just preparing for the big boss fight there.

    "Wait," I say. "What''s the gun? How''d you get it? I haven''t seen that gun yet and I thought I had them all!"

    "A hidden unlock," Parker says. "You get it by take an energy core to the Shrine of Light after beating the hzaviit lord. There''s a quest series that unlocks and you get the gun at the end. Now shush. I''m trying to focus."

    He''s still being moody over me inviting Tyler over?

    I don''t say anything else as Parker keeps playing, up until Tyler shows up.

    "Hi, Tyler!" I hop out of my seat and rush over to give him a fist-bump. "Thanks for coming! Parker''s playing New Frontiers of Zenzialtz and is about to take on the boss for the chapter and-Parker? Whatcha doing?"

    Parker''s just saved and closed the game.

    "Going home," he stands. "Bye."

    Parker leaves without saying anything else.

    "Er¡­ is everything okay?" Tyler asks.

    "I dunno," I shrug. "Parker''s just being moody for some reason. Come on! Mom''s probably going to finish making dinner soon, but we can start a game! What do you want to play?"

    "I haven''t gotten to play that one yet," he says. "Can we do that?"

    "Which one?" I ask. "New Frontiers?"

    "Yeah," he says.

    "Sure!" I beckon for him to follow as I return to my seat. "It''s singleplayer. Let''s make you a profile so you can play a new save. The starter enemies are sooooo funny to fight, you''re gonna love them!"

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    What the heck is this?

    I arrived in my workshop with dinner, ready to work on my mega computer some more after a long day of just being at home because Dad said I couldn''t go out until now, and there''s a big-ass spherical mana crystal just sitting by the machine.

    After examining the giant mana crystal from several angles to determine whether or not it may be problematic to keep around, I discover two things. First, it''s absolutely packed with mana. Size doesn''t always equal to quality but this one has both.

    Second is that there''s a note in Xander''s crude handwriting taped to the crystal.

    Grandpa Adrian made this for you. It produces its own mana using the technique I used for the batteries for the puzzle spheres. It''s for the power source for your mega computer.

    It does what now? It makes its own mana? And the puzzle spheres'' mana batteries apparently do the same. Xander''s magical abilities are truly on another level if he managed to figure out how to do that! It also proves that it is possible!

    Yet I can''t figure out how to do it just by staring at this sphere. No matter how much I try to analyze it, I just cannot figure out how it produces its own mana. Once again, Xander is proving his divinity by coming up with something I can''t decipher.

    Not only that, but he did it by making a mana crystal that produces mana instead of just being crystallized mana.

    As much as I want to try and break apart the mana crystal, there''s no way I''ll do that to something Xander acquired for me to use for the mega computer. By convincing Grandfather to make this for me, he just sped up my work on the computer by years!

    I put my food down and pull off my backpack, then get to work while making sure to eat as I replace the power supply network for the mega computer. Doing that takes me almost an hour and once I finish, I boot up the computer and begin running checks to make sure everything is good with the new power supply.

    Mana is drawn out in the appropriate amounts when I run systems that require more power than others, though tweaking that a little is a must as the amounts are a little bit too high. They aren''t high enough to be a concern, though, so tweaking the magic matrices isn''t an urgent need.

    If I turn on the transfer pod¡­ wait. I should actually put something in the pod first so that there''s something to transfer.

    The pod is a coffin-like-chamber temporarily fixed to part of the mega computer and can fit a whole human inside of it and can transfer a variety of things. I know it works fine, but I need to make sure that the power supply is operating as necessary when the processes are in use. There''s a 0% chance that my dad and papa would let me use one of them or my brothers for the check, and Grandfather would likely have a punishment if I acquired someone who hurts little boys to use. It''s not like I can actually make sure the power supply works properly if I go in, so that''s ruled out as well or I''d play with it myself again.

    "Hm¡­" I tap my chin.

    Without a person to give feedback on the experience, I can''t know for sure whether or not the other aspects of the experience went well. Well, it isn''t as if getting feedback on that is important since I already know the transfer process itself works, so I can use something that doesn''t have the ability to give it. All I''m testing right now is the energy draw with the new power source.

    I teleport to a section of wilderness where multipurpose chickens can be found, grab the nearest one, and teleport back. The chicken wants to fight me but I send some soothing feelings into its mind to calm it down, then tuck it under an arm as I punch the buttons to open up the pod.

    Once the chicken''s placed inside and the pod is closed, I tap some stuff on one of the key screens for the computer.

    "Activate transfer process," I say as I finish navigating the menus and inputting my codes. "Transfer Pod 1."

    "Activating transfer process in Transfer Pod 1," a robotic voice says.

    I really want to fix the voice so it sounds more human, but that can wait until I''m using the computer more. For now, getting the computer fully-functional and ready for changing the world is more important.

    Lights illuminate on the pod after the computer responds to my verbal command and I hear a slight humming sound. That''s¡­ concerning. I''ve already fixed all of the issues that Xander showed me the other day so there shouldn''t be anything wrong. It did require me sneaking out at night on Sunday and Monday, but I got it done.

    That humming also wasn''t there last time I tried to activate the transfer process. Great. Now I have to fix something else. Ugh. The life of a ten-year-old genius is so hard. As soon as I fix one thing, another thing breaks.

    "Transfer process completed," the robotic voice says.

    Maybe I should fix the voice today instead of letting it go. I''ll be using the computer more often now that I have a good power supply for it.

    I look to my left, to a section of the computer that''s just a display table. Floating over it is a light magic representation of the chicken, which is just wandering around, pecking at a ground we cannot see. The transfer worked just fine, so I check the readouts for the power. Hm. There was too much of a draw so I''ll need to fix that, but it otherwise worked fine.

    "Activate return process," I say after navigating the menus and inputting some commands. "Transfer Pod 1."

    "Activating return process in Transfer Pod 1," the computer responds, and the humming starts up again. After a few seconds, the lights on the pod turn off and the humming stops. "Return process completed."

    I open up the pod and pull out the chicken, which seems a little bit confused but which was also about to return to pecking at the ground, only this ground was the bed of the pod.

    "You don''t want to eat that," I tell her. "It''s a synthetic material I invented with a 0% chance of you being able to damage it, so you''ll just hurt yourself. Here, have some seeds."

    I toss my right hand toward the ground and some seeds land on it, summoned from a container in my backpack. I set the chicken down, then get to work on seeing what''s wrong with the pod.

    It takes me an hour, but I discover that during my last time performing maintenance on it, I accidentally knocked something loose and it was just straight-up vibrating as a result of the electrical magic flowing through it.

    "Whew," I tell the chicken, which is currently sitting while watching me. "That could have been disastrous if the pod was left in use for too long or if I used it too many times. By my calculations, there''s an 87.41923% chance it would superheat and then explode if the pod was used for more than five minutes, sixteen seconds. That chance goes up to 100% if the pod was used for more than seven minutes, nine seconds. It''s a good thing I only left you in there for eighty-seven seconds or I might not have been able to pull you back until I made a new one."

    My stomach rumbles a little. While I didn''t use too much magic to work on the machine, I''m still a growing boy who teleported a little bit ago and am still recovering from yesterday''s magic use.

    I walk over to the kitchen part of my workshop and pull off my shirt, hanging it up as I grab my apron and pull it on. Then, I walk over to the chicken, which looks at me.

    "You get to be my second dinner," I grab it and snap its neck, then carry it over to my kitchen.

    How should I cook it?

 Chapter 0048

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander," Mr. Trey sits beside me. "I want to start off by saying you aren''t in trouble, okay?"

    What did I do this time? I''m just lying in the living room while I wait for breakfast time.

    "Okay¡­"

    "You''re dressed instead of in your pajamas?" He asks.

    Oh, no. I''m not supposed to be properly dressed instead of in pajamas until after breakfast, am I?

    "Yes."

    Mr. Trey coughs into a fist. Is he getting sick?

    "Xander," he says. "Why did you get dressed? And you''re not in trouble, I''m just a little surprised. You normally wait until after breakfast to get dressed."

    That''s all it is?

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ at the sleepover Tuesday night, I learned that S.G. and the others don''t sleep in pajamas, both when at sleepovers and when not. And it sounded more comfortable, so I wanted to give it a proper try. It was a lot more comfortable, not having the arms and legs and body of my pajamas twisting around me or rubbing my skin while I was slept."

    Though I was still nervous when I tried it, because what if Mr. Trey or someone came into my room? Thankfully, no one did, not even when I had bad dreams. They didn''t get too bad last night and while I did wake up, I was able to hum myself back to sleep.

    "Um¡­ is that okay?" I ask. "You bought my pajamas and you wear pajamas-"

    "I slip the pajamas on before leaving my room," Mr. Trey tells me. "You''re about to turn thirteen, so the choice is yours on what you wear to sleep in your room. If it''s just pants, or shorts, or underwear, or shorts and a tee, or underwear and a tee, or pants and a tee, or nothing, or something else, that''s up to you. The only rule is you''re at least wearing shorts or pants when you leave your room. And if you''re not comfortable letting me see you in whatever you''re wearing ¨C even if it''s shorts and a t-shirt ¨C then leave a change of clothes that you''re comfortable with me being around you in near your bed so I can give them to you. That way, you can change into them under the blanket before coming out, if we play cards or something after you wake up from a nightmare. Okay?"

    He''s not mad at me. That makes me happy because I was a lot more comfortable not wearing pajamas last night. He doesn''t even care what my new sleepwear is and is willing to give me something else to put on when I wake up from the nightmares if I''d prefer.

    Which I would. Even wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt around him during the day makes me a little uncomfortable so I''d definitely feel that way waking up from a nightmare when I''m not wearing a shirt. It''s a lot different than going shirtless for swimming.

    "Okay."

    "Speaking of the sleepover," he says. "How did it go? We only talked about the yard work yesterday."

    "Um¡­" I''m not sure how to respond to that.

    "You''re not going to be in trouble if you guys got up to a little bit of mischief," he says.

    Oh, he thinks I was scared of getting into trouble. At least, I think that''s what he means by "mischief". I don''t really know that word.

    "I was trying to figure out if you just wanted to know how it went," I say. "Or what we did. Um. Can I ask that?"

    "Either one works," he tells me. "You can say as much or as little about it as you want."

    Really? I''m not sure if he knows that it''s easy for me to look in his eyes when he sits by me when I''m lying down like this, so I could tell he was honest about that. He''s really okay with me leaving out information even though that would make me bad.

    "Um¡­" I think. "They were wrestling around when I got there, already changed into shorts for bed even though that was hours away. I changed into pajamas, but in the bathroom so they wouldn''t see me. After that, we ate and played Truth or Dare, and-"

    "Truth or Dare?" He interrupts me. "Mind telling me what that involved?"

    "Well, it was more like challenge than dare," I tell him. "Because a lot of it was just seeing if we could do it rather than braving it. I guess braving it was involved for some stuff, but it was braving the challenge rather than braving getting into trouble."

    "Xander," Mr. Trey clears his throat. "I mean, did anything¡­ sexual happen during it?"

    "What?" I sit up and turn to face him. "Why would it? It''s just a game where you ask questions and do challenges, not anything sexual."

    "Some people take it a little bit further than that," he says. "And I still don''t know those boys that well. It''s your first time at a sleepover, and your first time at one with them. You never know what might happen."

    "Oh," I say. "It was mostly things like ''stuff your mouth with as many grapes as possible'' or ''stand on one foot until your next turn'' or ''drink a mixture of root beer, milk, and hot sauce''. No one asked, challenged, or dared anything sexual for it and the game was completely without anything sexual."

    "Alright," he says. "If anyone ever tries to get you to do something like that, even during a game, you''re more than okay saying ''no''. If someone ever tries to pressure you into it, it''s okay to leave as well."

    "I know," I say. "And I don''t think they''d do that. They''re goofy, not jerks."

    I''ve gotten to know them well enough to know that, and Tuesday night proved it.

    "Plus," I say. "I now know how to breathe fire, so if someone tried to make me do something, I could just-"

    "We''ll talk about that another time," Mr. Trey interrupts me. "Let''s go back to the sleepover. Is there anything else you''d like to share about it?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "So after Truth or Dare ¨C or really, Truth or Challenge ¨C we played cards for a little bit. A little bit later, they started playing a video game. It was mostly S.G. playing it, he was shooting zombies in the ruins of a town in the game. Not in real life. I think he called it an apocalyptic zombie game? The first time I fell asleep was during that. They were all a bit noisy while playing it, like shouting when a zombie showed up out of nowhere or urging S.G. to do something in the game."

    "Would you ever want to play a game like that?"

    "Am I allowed to?"

    "What''s the rule for the theater room?" Mr. Trey asks. "For what you''re allowed to use it for?"

    "Watching movies, shows, documentaries and stuff," I tell him. "And for playing video games like Zevatris."

    "You can play other types of games," Mr. Trey tell me. "Would that zombie shooter game fit into any of those things you''re allowed to use the theater room for?"

    "Yes."

    "So then that means¡­"

    "Oh. I can play normal video games?"

    "Yes," he laughs. "You can play normal video games, Xander! Did you want to give something like that a try? I can buy you a game."

    "I don''t know," I turn a bit, then lie back down and spread my arms and legs out. "But I want to try laser tag. At the same time, I don''t want to try laser tag. It''s gonna be way too noisy."

    "Today''s Thursday, right?" Mr. Trey asks.

    What kind of test is that?

    "Yeah."

    "I looked up the laser tag place they use after Paul gave me its name," Mr. Trey tells me. "Wanted to see if it was safe. They do sensory-friendly hours on Thursday."

    "Sensory-friendly hours?" I ask. "What does that mean?"

    "It means they make some small changes," he says. "To be friendlier to people who have more sensitive senses or who have sensory processing disorders or other issues. One of the changes is they change the lights so they aren''t as harsh. They also add in a mild white noise generator through their intercom system. That helps prevent other noises from being so loud."

    "How does that work?"

    "I don''t really understand it," he says. "But at a guess, it might be that it helps reduce how much you notice of other sounds, even subconsciously. I could be wrong on that, but it seems to work."

    "Oh."

    "They also reduce the actual laser tag games," he tells me. "Normally, there can be ten to twenty players on a team at a maximum depending on the day and hour, and up to four teams playing. During the sensory-friendly games, it''s a maximum of five players per team and only two teams. This way, not as many people are running around."

    There aren''t as many people who''ll be there and it''ll be quieter. That''s what I''m understanding.

    "Does that sound like something you want to try?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Would you like to go today?"

    "Um¡­ oh¡­ um¡­"

    "It''s in the mornings," he tells me. "We can go after breakfast, if you''re okay with not having the classes today."

    "I was going to ask that¡­" I start breathing heavily as tears well up in my eyes. No. Don''t cry! Don''t cry! Just say it! "It''s, um¡­ it''s why I was down here already, um, so I could, um, so I could ask."

    "You wanted to cancel the classes for today?" He asks, and I nod. "How come?"

    "''Cause-''cause-with yesterday-and-"

    "Deep breaths," Mr. Trey says. "In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­ there we go. Don''t try to force the words out and take your time if you need to, okay?"

    "Okay," I nod. "Um¡­ yesterday¡­ was¡­ a very¡­ busy¡­ um¡­ maybe that''s not the right word. But I feel¡­ feel¡­ um¡­"

    "Overwhelmed?"

    "Not quite? But that''s the best I can think of, I think¡­ I''m sorry!"

    "So you wanted a rest day?" He asks.

    "If that''s okay¡­"

    Why am I so pathetic?

    "You can have a rest day if you want," he says. "And we can try laser tag another day. Do you want to go to Greyson''s workshop to tinker around with stuff? You mentioned feeling calm there."

    That''s something I wanted to do but was way too afraid to ask about. For Mr. Trey to mention it, I think that means it''s really okay. I still need to ask first, just to make sure.

    "Is that okay?"

    "It is," he answers.

    "Okay," I say. "Can I go right after I brush my teeth after breakfast?"

    "You can."

    "Okay."

    "Let''s go to the table," he says. "It should be about ready now."

    We get up and go to the table, reaching it just as Ms. Katie''s putting food down. She asked me what I wanted to eat when I came down this morning and confirmed that it was okay for me to pick. Because of that, we''re doing pancakes. Mr. Trey gets chocolate-chip pancakes, and bacon and eggs on the side. I get blueberry-banana-sprinkles-gummy bear pancakes with sausage links and hash brown patties on the side. We''re both getting a bowl of berries.

    One day, I might be brave enough to tell Ms. Katie that I hadn''t meant all four of those in one pancake.

    After breakfast, I go up to the bedroom I''m staying in and wait until it''s time to brush my teeth, then do that, grab my backpack, and return downstairs. Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are talking in the kitchen, and they''re standing pretty close.

    Why do they try to act like they aren''t in love with each other when they are? They should just start dating already.

    "I prepared something for you to eat for lunch," Ms. Katie tells me. "It''s peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, with some fruit, potato chips, and baby carrots. That''s what''s in the lunch box here."

    "Is it creamy peanut-butter?" I ask as I start putting today''s snacks restock into my backpack.

    "Crunchy," she says. "Mixed with a little bit of honey. And I used strawberry jelly."

    I like those over plain creamy peanut butter and grape jelly.

    "Okay," I say. "Thanks, Ms. Katie. And thank you, Mr. Trey."

    "You''re welcome!" Ms. Katie says.

    "No worries," Mr. Trey says. "If you ever want a day off from classes, just let me know. It''s to help you prepare for the start of school, but it''s ultimately your choice."

    "Okay," I say. "Thank you. Um. Can I leave now, or is there other stuff I have to do first?"

    "You can leave," Mr. Trey says. "Before you go, though, here."

    He pulls something out of a pocket and hands it to me. It''s $60 in twenties.

    "Sir?"

    "In case you want something else for lunch," he tells me. "Or stay until dinner and want to get yourself something to eat for that."

    "But I have money."

    "And I''m giving you lunch or dinner money," he says. "Be back by eight, alright?"

    This is confusing, but I don''t want to argue or he might ground me and not let me leave.

    "Okay," I say. "Goodbye, Mr. Trey. Goodbye, Ms. Katie. I''ll see you later¡­ I think."

    "Bye," they both chuckle a little.

    I go to the front doors¡­ where my shoes aren''t. Where did I put them?

    After I find my shoes (they''re at the back door), I put them on and leave the house, then teleport to the workshop. After climbing the fence, I enter the workshop and look around. Greyson isn''t here, which is probably a good thing because I want some quiet for now while I work.

    He was definitely here at some point, though, since the giant mana battery is out of view. When I use my magesight, I can see that he''s installed it into the mega-computer. There''s no way he would''ve left it in there if he didn''t already test it to see if it works good enough for what he needs, and that makes me happy.

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    I was able to help him with his project!

    I enter my work area and pull off my backpack, then pull Trenton out of it and set him in his usual spot, then start working on trying to make a remote-controlled car.

    As I work on this, my mind wanders a bit. Zombie shooter games are just virtual versions of laser tag, right? Not exactly like that, but they''re similar enough. I bet if there was a way to put imaginary zombies in the real world without danger to the players, people would play that game. S.G. and the rest of them would probably love that sort of thing.

    That seems like it might be more fun than just playing laser tag. At least, to me. Now I want to actually do that. Is there a way to?

    I want to stop working on this to do some research, but at the same time, I don''t want to stop working. Anxiety over this is making me bounce and a whine builds in the back of my throat.

    "Nhaaaaaaa!" I cry out, then move the project back to its storage box and get up to look through Greyson''s records.

    It takes me almost half an hour because I don''t know the right terms, but I manage to find something. Augmented reality goggles are a thing people have, where it overlays images into a person''s vision on the goggles themselves. They''re still seeing the real world, but it adds to it. Or rather, augments the visuals the person has.

    That¡­ sounds kind of fun. Okay. What kind of augmented reality stuff exists right now? How does it even work? It looks like it has to identify real-world objects so it needs to know what they are or be able to figure it out. Then, it can give information on the objects such as its dimensions, color, manufacturer, and more. At least, to a limited degree.

    That''s not zombies.

    If I take some of this and some of this, oh, and maybe this, and this one likes making light, and these are useful for scanning things¡­ oh, and I might need these as well. Wait, it''s sort of like glasses, right? So I''d need to figure out how to deal with the lenses, so this book might help me. I should also make sure the magitech programming laptop Greyson put in my zone still works, too.

    Once I have everything I think I need, I return to my work station and get to work doing more research while testing some stuff out. Eventually, I have a pair of goggles on my worktable¡­ but they''re not complete. Before moving on to the next stage, I should probably test them.

    I pull off my glasses and activate my good-vision spell, with the modified version I came up with to completely overwrite my physical eyes. I haven''t told Mr. Trey I figured out how to do that while studying the mind packet book yet. Mostly for two reasons: that I don''t want him quite knowing I''m actually properly learning mind magics, and also because overwriting my real vision for too long makes me dizzy.

    Also because I only just figured it out this morning, before I went downstairs.

    As long as I only use the spell while I''m wearing the goggles, and put my glasses back on after, I should be okay.

    I pull on the goggles and turn them on. It just looks like the world through a lens right now, but if I make a double-tap motion on Trenton¡­ it pops up a window above his head that calls him a stuffed bear. When I tap on that, it glitches up, so I take off the goggles and adjust its magic a little, then try again. This time, it gives me the dimensions it can read for Trenton.

    They''re a little bit off. Did I mess up its measuring abilities?

    "Argh!"

    After ten minutes of working on that, the goggles are able to accurately read dimensions and come to conclusions about them based on what it can see. I add in colors next, and that takes me about fifteen minutes to get right.

    By one-thirty, I''ve finished adding in various databases so that it can register the real world, as well as testing its functions. I''ve even set up an earpiece for it so that it can manage sounds as well. Figuring out how to get it to read and let the wearer get information on those was a little difficult, but only took me half an hour in the end.

    Now that all of that''s ready, it''s time for the next phase!

    [Xander]: Do you have information on fake zombies I can add to something?

    Autocorrect really changes my messages so that they''re more clear. Instead of getting frustrated at my bad spelling and at others struggling to understand my texts sometimes, I just get frustrated at how many times it has to correct me.

    Greyson responds after a minute.

    [Greyson]: Add to what? And are you wanting just images, or do you want them to do stuff?

    [Xander]: Like for a video game.

    [Greyson]: Yeah!

    [Greyson]: Check out the database that contains information on monsters, in the virtual section. There''s a complete database there for them and you can use it to make videos, games, whatever.

    [Greyson]: Now my curiosity is piqued, but I''m at the dentists'' with Papa. It is that time of year again already, unfortunately. Fortunately, my teeth are in pristine condition so I have no need to worry. Henry''s seeing the dentist right now, and it''s almost my time to go in. Cal and Travis are both technically done, and they''re hanging out in the same room until given clearance to leave.

    I locate the database he''s referring to and add zombies to the goggles. It takes me a little bit to figure out how to adjust the magitech program to make them display properly and to move around, but I think I''ve got it now so I try it on.

    Swipe up with my right index finger in front of me, and that pulls up the menu. Tap, tap, tap. Okay, now I can set up the zombie game, and¡­ there we go!

    "Aaaah!" I exclaim as a walking, rotting corpse pops out from behind the mega computer and starts walking toward me. "No! No! Go away! Go! Aaaaah! Stop coming at me!"

    I yank off the goggles and throw them onto the worktable, my heart racing and breathing quick. That was¡­ that was-that-I-no. No, no, no! Too much!

    It takes me a few minutes and about thirty blueberries and ten strawberries and an entire slice of strawberry cheesecake with a blueberry cream cheese drizzle, but I manage to calm down. That was terrifying and it wouldn''t stop coming at me.

    The zombie''s probably eating the flesh of the user right now¡­ so I do a hard reboot on the goggles without putting them on. Then realize I broke them a little and it''s messed up the magitech, so I fix that before adding in some additional features to make the zombie¡­ not so scary.

    Well, part of that was also because I forgot I could turn off the game. It''s not a proper game yet, so I start adjusting the magitech program. That''s so easy to do, too. Why does Greyson act like it''s a big deal?

    Maybe because he just wants everything to have an explosion aspect and figuring out how to get a magitech program to do that is probably really hard.

    Making the goggles and earpiece was really easy compared to a remote-controlled car. Greyson''s obsession with remote-controlled stuff must be for the challenge, then.

    Either that, or I just suck at making remote-controlled things.

    The zombies still scare me a bit when I try out the goggles again, even more so now that I can hear them groaning. I force myself to calm down a little rather than scream in fear and as I try to check to make sure everything is right, I realize I forgot one very important thing for zombie shooters.

    Making the gun only takes me an hour, and linking its magitech to the goggles takes me about ten minutes. Fixing the aim problem takes me, uh¡­ maybe I should have someone else test the aim. I''m probably not that good which is probably the reason I keep missing.

    At least the magic bullets are only virtual and aren''t hitting the mega computer for real. I hope. At least, in theory, the magic bullets are contained fully within the program of the goggles.

    Just in case, I text Greyson and let him know I might have accidentally shot his mega computer with bullets. It''ll be better to do the testing where shooting tech won''t be possible, just to be safe.

    I take the goggles, gun, earpiece, and some other necessary items and teleport back to the house, then enter it and look for someone suitable.

    "Welcome back, Xander," Mr. Trey says from where he''s talking with Ms. Katie.

    He''s dressed in a suit now, so I''m assuming he went to work and hasn''t just been talking with her in the kitchen all day. Oh. She''s making dinner right now. It''s already nearing that time?

    "Hello, Mr. Trey," I say. "Is Roderick still here? Or Mr. Quinn or Franklin?"

    "Frank''s still here," Mr. Trey tells me. "And Quinn''s in his usual spot. Roderick''s left for the day. Why?"

    "Is it okay if I borrow one of them for testing?" I ask. "I know they''re your guards, but-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "They work for me, but they also work for you to some degree. You can ask them to do some stuff and if it''s allowed, they''ll do it. Testing what? What do you have there?"

    "I''m making a game," I tell him. "It''s a zombie shooter game, but I''m not good with a gun so I don''t know how the aim is and wanted to ask someone who''s got good aim with a gun."

    "Frank''s in his office right now," Mr. Trey tells me. "You can ask him if you want, or any of the others."

    "Okay," I start walking toward Frank''s office.

    "You made a zombie shooter game?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Greyson had the stuff so it wasn''t too hard."

    "Oh, okay."

    I go to Franklin''s office and knock on the door.

    "Come in," he calls, and I enter. "Oh, hello, Xander. How''re you?"

    "I''m okay right now," I tell him. "Would you be willing to test something for me?"

    "What is it?" He asks.

    "Augmented reality goggles, earpiece, and gun," I tell him. "Not a real gun, but I made it myself at Greyson''s workshop. I''m trying to make a zombie shooter game, but I''m not a good shot with a gun so I can''t really test how good the aim is. All I know is that I keep missing, but I''m not sure how far off my aim is on its own, which means I can''t make the necessary adjustments."

    "You want some help testing the gun''s aim?"

    "Yeah."

    "Sure, I can help you," he says. "Let''s head out back."

    Franklin and I go to the back yard and as we pass by the kitchen, Mr. Trey stops me.

    "Are you going to eat dinner with us?" Mr. Trey asks. "It should be ready in about an hour."

    "Um¡­" I''m probably expected to since I came back to the house. "Yes."

    "Alright," he says. "Good luck with your testing."

    "Thanks."

    Franklin and I exit the house and walk toward the small peach orchard, then he pulls on the earpiece and goggles and I hand him the gun for it.

    "You pull up the menu by swiping upward with your right index finger," I tell him. "You can get information about items in your view by ''tapping'' on them with it. Not literally tapping, but the kind where it''s just in your vision. The gun design is based on the sorts for the laser tag I''ve heard about. It''s magitech signals so not actual bullets or lasers or whatever."

    "Okay," Franklin swipes up with his right index finger, then taps on something in his vision. "Hey, Xander?"

    "Yes?"

    "Is there supposed to be a training or testing mode?"

    "For the zombie shooter game?"

    "So I can test the gun," he says. "It would be easier to tell if things are working right if I can use it to shoot real things and if I have projected targets to shoot at as well."

    "Oh, uh¡­" I''m really stupid. "Didn''t think about something like that."

    I pull the magitech programming laptop out of my backpack and sit down in the grass and start working on adjusting the magitech program for the goggles.

    "Do you need these back?" Franklin asks.

    "No," I tell him. "It should only take me a few minutes to add the program. I just add in this runic formula like this, and make this one do this¡­"

    "When it comes to the virtual targets," he says. "The testing and training portion should be able to determine how far from the center of the target was struck. If you can, go with a simple ring-based target system as well, and make it so that it can tell which rings were struck."

    "Okay," I say. "Rings¡­ rings¡­ rings¡­ oh, here''s information on that type of target. Okay, so use this rune system¡­ wait, no, that''s bad. If I use that ring, then it''ll fuck up this other setup. Okay, there we go."

    "Make sure you''re able to get feedback on it as well," he tells me. "That will help you know better the accuracy beyond just me telling you."

    "Okay."

    I continue designing the program and once I think it''s ready, I realize something.

    "Oh¡­ um¡­ Franklin?"

    "Yes?"

    "I was wrong," I tell him. "I do need it back so I can add the program to them."

    He gives me the set and I link them to the laptop, then add the testing program before giving them back to him.

    Now that the program''s installed, Franklin does something with the goggles'' menu, then uses the gun to start shooting. There''s no noise caused by this for me apart from the clicks of the gun''s trigger, but Franklin should be having something in his ear from the earpiece. I can watch on the laptop to see the results and even what he''s seeing through the goggles.

    There should be sound¡­ oh, there''s the spot. Okay, now I can hear soft "pwps" each time he shoots and a small impact noise each time something is struck. Those sounds will need to change so they can be more realistic or it''s going to bother me. It''ll probably bother S.G. and them when they play, too.

    It seems the targeting isn''t too bad so I start making some adjustments to the program. It takes Franklin and me about half an hour to get it so the targeting is good, and we test using a few of the other security guards as well so that it''s not all input from one person. Sometimes, I have to adjust the magitech of the gun itself, though, as there are a few accuracy issues that need fixing.

    They don''t take long to correct, however.

    "That''s pretty neat," Franklin tells me once we conclude this part of the testing phase. "I did have some questions, though."

    "Yes?"

    "You said it''s for a zombie shooter game?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "How close to completing it are you?" He asks.

    "I dunno," I answer. "I still have to optimize the goggles and stuff. Greyson and Luke both say they do that so I''ll have to try. And I need to properly design the game. Right now, it just has zombies walk around and you shoot them and they get purged. I think. At least, in theory. I haven''t tested that bit yet since I don''t really know guns. But¡­ you get points for shooting them. I did add in that bit."

    "We got points for shooting the rings in the targets, too," he says.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Oh. I forgot to mention that, didn''t I? That was supposed to be to test to make sure it was working. It did work, I could see on the laptop that you guys were getting the points assigned to the rings."

    "Want me to test to make sure the ring borders are right?"

    What does that mean?

    "When it comes to programs," Franklin says. "Sometimes, the actual boundaries of an object aren''t exactly on the visual for it. So you might have a ring where the border for registering the points is slightly bigger or smaller than the ring itself is, or where it''s shifted to the side a little."

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ are you okay with testing that?"

    "Sure," he says. "Just let me know when you''re ready."

    Franklin puts the stuff back on and once I let him know I have the monitoring program back up, he starts shooting. This time, he aims at and around the edges of the rings of the targets, hitting right at the edges. I don''t think I could ever be that accurate with a gun, even if it''s a magitech augmented reality one.

    "The boundaries all looked like they were right," Franklin tells me he asks once he''s done. "What about on your end?"

    "Same," I answer. "Thanks for the help with testing!"

    "No problem," he says. "Do you want me to test the zombie shooter stuff you''ve got set up?"

    "Do you want to?" I ask.

    "I can if you''d like," he says.

    That doesn''t really answer my question, but pointing that out to an adult is bad.

    "Um¡­ okay."

    Franklin changes some stuff, then jumps a little.

    "Xander, these are pretty realistic."

    "Have you seen real zombies before?"

    "Yes," he answers as he starts shooting. "But I wouldn''t have needed to to know they''re realistic. They look like walking, rotting corpses."

    "Oh, right," my face heats up at my stupidity. "Greyson had them in his database. I don''t know why he has magivirtual zombies, but it''s Greyson so there are a lot of potential reasons. Most of which I can''t think of."

    Franklin chuckles as he continues shooting the magivirtual zombies in his vision. That aspect seems to work fine, so we conclude that phase of testing as well. All that''s left is to optimize the hardware of the magitech and properly design the game, I think.

    From what I remember from the sleepover, they could gain levels that improved their health and stats, and they could put points into improving their other stats. They also got money for killing the zombies that they could use to upgrade their weapons, achievements that awarded boosts or unlocked more shops within the game, and even take on quests to kill special zombies, which earns them more experience for their levels, more money, and even sometimes gave them new gear. Oh! They could also buy gear in the game to increase their resistance to the attacks.

    All of that seems like stuff I should put in the game, so I''ve got a lot of work ahead of me. For now, it''s nearly time for dinner so I pack it all into my backpack and go inside, making sure to take off my shoes as I enter.

    "Thanks for the help," I tell Franklin.

    "No problem," he says. "You have a good one, Xander."

    "Have a good rest of your day," I tell him. "Wait. Oh. Um. It''s proper to pay for testing stuff, right? Sort of like with consulting or specialists? Uh¡­ Mr. Trey?"

    I look over at Mr. Trey, who''s on the dining room side of the counter between it and the kitchen.

    "It wasn''t just Franklin," I tell him. "There were ten other security guards who helped me test the shooting function of the set. It wasn''t very long for the help, so it wouldn''t be much pay, but how much would that be? It''s not really specialist stuff but they still had skills I don''t, and it wasn''t in their normal duties, and-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "If you want to pay them for a few minutes of help, you can. For that little help, I''d say $15-$25 per person, just to also account for them having to take time from other stuff for it. If you need the cash, I can spot that and you can pay me back another time."

    "Spot that?"

    "Give it to you," he says.

    "Oh, okay," I say. "And Franklin would need a bigger pay, right? Because he was there and helping for a lot longer. So, um¡­ $60? And then $20 for the others."

    Mr. Trey confirms, then tells me that Franklin can make sure the money goes to everyone who helped me. He leaves to get the cash and once he has it, he gives it to me, then I give it to Franklin. This seems like a lot less money than I was expecting. My helping Luke earned me way more for not much more time helping, but I guess it''s two different fields of help.

    "Can you tell all of them ''thanks'' for me?" I ask Franklin.

    "Will do," he says. "Have a good one."

    "Have a good rest of your day," I tell him.

    Franklin goes off to do whatever he''s doing next, and I sit at the table with my backpack beside the seat.

    "Do you feel better than this morning?" Mr. Trey sits in his spot at the table.

    "A lot," I nod, then start feeling tears in my eyes as I try to ask him something I want to ask. "But, um¡­ is okay to ask if I can not do tomorrow''s classes, too? I''m still feeling a bit much and overwhelmed and-and-and-I''m sorry!"

    "Hey," Mr. Trey says. "No need to be sorry, Xander. It''s okay. You''re not in trouble."

    "But I''m so stupid and a failure and-"

    "Strike those thoughts from your head," Mr. Trey interrupts. "It''s okay to cancel things, or even quit them if you want or no longer feel like it. There are things you can''t quit, of course, like school, but this is just something optional we''re doing to help you. You can always take a break if you want."

    "Okay¡­"

    "With your great-grandfather coming tomorrow," he says. "It might not be a bad idea to take the day off so you''re not overstimulated from that."

    "I was gonna mention that," I sniffle. "I don''t think I''d be able to focus too well when Grandpa Adrian''s here if I go through classes first. And I feel like there''s something else that I''m forgetting but it''s gonna happen tomorrow and I''m really sorry for being forgetful even with my brain all fixed up and-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey interrupts me. "Very few people have a perfect memory. It''s okay to forget things as long as it''s not important and doesn''t cause trouble for yourself or others. And no, we don''t have any other plans for tomorrow."

    "Oh¡­"

    "Now," he says. "It''s time for dinner. Want to tell me about your project while we eat?"

    Is that him asking or demanding?

    "Your choice, Xander," he says.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ I can tell you a little. But it''s probably not going to be on the quality of a professionally-made game. It''s just something I''m doing because it''s fun and it''s even easier than making a remote-controlled car."

    "It is?" He seems surprised by that.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I got the idea while working on that and had to put that to the side because I wanted to do both but I really wanted to do this more because it sounds more fun. And then I went to Greyson''s stuff and started seeing what augmented reality is and then got the materials I needed and start working on making it."

    "Wait, hold on," Mr. Trey says. "You made it? Not took a set Greyson already had?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He had a little bit of information on how to make augmented reality stuff, but I don''t know if he has his own goggles or not. So anyway, I looked through the instructions and made adaptations, but I had to start by designing some of the core magitech pieces such as the enchantment matrices for the lenses and the mana batteries so that I could actually power it to make sure things were working right. To make the lenses, I¡­"

 Chapter 0049

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts early in Chapter 48.

    "Hey, Parker!" I say when he answers the phone. "So Xander apparently isn''t doing classes again today, so-"

    "I''m going back to sleep."

    "I''m going clothes shopping again," I tell him. "So I thought I''d invite you and-"

    "I''m. Going. Back. To. Sleep."

    He''s never been like this before. Ever. He just grumbles about getting woken up and then comes over and gets coffee from whichever of my parents is still here. I tried asking him after Tyler left yesterday why he didn''t like hanging out with my other friend, but he refused to answer. It seems he''s still annoyed by me wanting to hang out with Tyler.

    "So no clothes shopping?"

    "Just pick some damn outfits and stick with them!" Parker snaps. "Jeez! You''re going every week to get new clothes! How hard is it to just pick some that you like and-"

    "I don''t care for nor want any attitude and drama," I say. "I just want friends, so when you''re done being a little shit, let me know and we can go back to hanging out like always! In the meantime, I''m gonna be at the store, picking out new outfits! Enjoy your sleep! Bye!"

    I hang up and decide on the pink button-up with short sleeves to go with my khakis. Once I''ve pulled it on and buttoned it up, I slip on my shoes and head downstairs, where Dad''s fixing a breakfast of crepes and fruit. It doesn''t seem like Gabe is up yet, but he tends to sleep in so I''m not surprised.

    "Parker''s in a mood," I say. "So he''s not coming over to hang out. I''m gonna go to the store and get some new clothes; I''m not feeling like these outfits anymore or any of my old pairings."

    "I''m sure you have a little of everything," Dad says. "Wouldn''t it be easier to try on combinations from your closet?"

    "Oh, definitely," I say. "But this lets me potentially find new clothes to get, and it''s more fun to try them on at a store and see the combinations there with someone¡­ oh. Crap. Without Parker there, I won''t have him giving me feedback. Well! You never know what you might encounter at the store! Did I ever tell you about the time I came across a lightning monkey in the oral care aisle?"

    It was examining dental floss for some reason.

    "I was there with you, remember?"

    "Oh, right!" I sit at the table. "That was a weird one, even by my standards!"

    Dad chuckles and serves me breakfast before serving himself some and after we eat, I stretch a little.

    "Since Parker''s not coming with me," I say. "I think I''ll just go to the office and work on finishing the generator. It''s not really fun going clothes shopping without him. I''d Xander and see if he wanted to go, but he''s probably got stuff since he''s not doing classes."

    Xander would probably turn me down, but it wouldn''t hurt to ask!

    "Give me five minutes," Dad says as he clears the table. "And I can drive you. I need to head in to the office, too."

    "Okay!"

    I head out to the car to wait for Dad, then he drives us to the office. I hurry inside and up to my workshop, where I adjust some of the alloys for the generator. That lasts basically the entire morning but now that it''s done, I can get to work on cleaning up the enchantments. A few more tests will be needed, a few more rounds of alloy adjustment and enchantment cleaning, and then the generator should be good to go!

    Seems Mom''s coming over, so I hold off on touching the enchantments and wait until she pokes her head into my workshop.

    "Lucas," she says. "I''m getting ready-"

    "Mooooooooooooom!" I protest. "It''s Luuuuuuuuuuke!"

    "Sorry, sweetie," she says. "Luke, I''m getting ready to order something for lunch. Want me to order you something?"

    "Only if you''re paying!"

    "Of course I''m paying, Luke," she rolls her eyes. "What do you want?"

    "Chicken-fried rice, sesame chicken, and a salad, please!" I answer. "Berry tea to drink, and chocolate cake for dessert! Can I get a double serving of food?"

    "Sure," she smiles. "It should arrive in around an hour; I''m not ordering just yet. Want me to bring it here for you?"

    "I think I''m gonna take a break from the generator," I tell her. "And check on one the company is producing rather than just this one."

    It never hurts to let my mind take a break and focus on something else for a little bit. Sometimes, it even lets me come up with new ideas or make new realizations.

    "Alright," she says. "I''ll bring it to you once it''s here."

    "Thanks!"

    I put my tools away, then head to one of the development rooms and examine the generator inside. It''s an industrial generator we''re building for another company. They''re building a research station out in the wilderness and need several different power supplies, and this one''s going to be a supplemental and backup system for them.

    "Are you sure that should be moved?" One of the engineers asks as we work together.

    "Yeah," I point. "Look here. This setup would normally be fine, but it''s too close to the conversion zone. Any errant electricity from that would abrade the runes unless we fortify the enchanting material. Even then, we''d probably need to redo the enchantments in three or four years. If we move it over to here, we''ll need to add in some extensions and connections, but it''ll be safer and more stable than just fortifying it. This change is slightly more expensive, but it''s overall better."

    The engineer looks at the spell matrices and the conversion zone, then nods.

    "You''re right," he says. "Thanks for catching that. We would''ve gotten it during the tests but it''s better to fix that sort of thing now than later. Do you think that''s the best spot to move it to? What about here?"

    I look at the spot he''s indicating and do some quick mental calculations.

    "There shouldn''t be any problems there," I say. "Might need to strengthen the enchanting fluid by about eight percent for there, though, since you''ll have to move it over one of the panels for controls. Make sure shielding''s added if needed."

    "Will do," he says. "Thanks for taking a look."

    "No problem," I say. "I''m going to make one of the parts needed for the conversion chamber."

    I take a seat at one of the worktables and begin using the magitech tools to craft the pieces needed. One of the key pieces for a generator this large is extremely delicate and there are only four people in the entire company with the know-how and skill to actually make one. If not me, then one of my parents would likely be the craftsman for it.

    The "piece" is actually a ring-like disk three inches in diameter with the center hold two inches in diameter. It''s made of a specific magical alloy that''s treated with alchemy and affected by certain enchantments several times before being given its final alchemical coating.

    Despite the generator being the size of a long dumpster, this small piece is absolutely essential to it. Two small divots on either side of it provide a spot for it to be clamped into and held in place by. When the generator is turned on, the enchantment matrices will begin their work and this disk will stabilize the mana while it''s being converted.

    No one really knows how it works, just that it does. Our company''s ability to produce this piece is one of the reasons that we''re a leader in magitech energy for large businesses and as a power company in general. Its owners being able to sense electricity and having a gift with it in both magical and nonmagical forms also helps.

    "Is it bring your kid to work day?" I hear someone whisper as I examine the piece after finishing it. "Who''s the kid? And is it safe for him to play with stuff?"

    How in the heck is there yet another person able to work on a project this big who doesn''t know who I am? I''m a pretty famous thirteen-year-old, and that''s on top of being in literally one of the workshops for the company my family owns. Doing work that''s literally one of the reasons I''m famous ¨C I''ve been in articles about my magitech genius!

    My parents should make reading those articles mandatory for anyone who works on big projects.

    "Got the stabilizer finished," I hand it to Keith, the engineer I was speaking with before. "If it doesn''t work right, just let me know and I''ll make a new one."

    "Thanks," Keith accepts the piece. "Your mom stopped by with your lunch and saw that you''d thrown yourself into something. She asked me to let you know that she''d put it up in your office."

    Probably in a stasis box so it''ll still be fresh. I forgot lunch was coming and creating the stabilizer took me about three and a half hours, even with using magic and magitech which helped speed some of the process up.

    "Awesome!" I say. "Thanks for letting me know! I might come back down after I eat."

    "See you then," he chuckles. "Enjoy your lunch!"

    "He gets an office, too?" The other worker whispers. "Or is it his mom''s?"

    "Dude," another employee says as I leave. "That''s Lucas Gates. His parents own the company and he''s a magitech genius. Probably one of the best when it comes to anything related to making power. He''s got an entire workshop to himself upstairs."

    "And if I were playing with magitech," I poke my head back into the room. "I''d be making either robots or remote-controlled cars, both of which would fight using electric magic."

    That actually sounds pretty cool, so I think I''m going to do that after I eat!

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Alright," I tell Rusteo. "Now you be a good boy, okay?"

    "Woof!" Rusteo responds, then I leave and make sure to lock the door behind me.

    His owner is out for part of the day and wanted to make sure he got another walk in, so she''s paid me to take him for one. We just spent an hour at the dog park and now I''m all sweaty and gross, so I head straight home to take a shower and get some rest. Playing and roughhousing with a dog in the sun for an hour really did a number on me.

    I probably need to drink more water.

    Once my shower''s done and I''m in a clear pair of shorts, I head to the kitchen to get a drink and look for something to eat. Mom and Dad should''ve gone shopping today and¡­ I snap a picture of the fifteen bunches of bananas, then send it into the group chat.

    [Sig]: The heck do they think I''m gonna do with all of these???

    No one responds right away, but I think they''re all doing chores or something. I take a picture of the forty cans of cream of mushroom soup and send them in the group chat, then do the same for the basically-empty cabinets, fridge, and freezer.

    As I contemplate either going down the street to get some actual food or just ordering something, Connor asks if I let Aunt Rachel know.

    [Sig]: Nah. She''s busy with something I think.

    [Connor]: Parents?

    I send a picture of the note on the fridge letting me know they went to Niagara Falls. It''s a day earlier than normal, but I''m not surprised. Since they left a day earlier, they''ll probably be gone for an extra day or two, maybe even four or five or ten. It would''ve been nice if they''d gotten me food, but I can just buy some with my earnings and then pester them to pay me back. It''ll just be $20 most likely regardless of how much, but I can just pick up some extra work to make up for it.

    The friends all say they''re doing stuff when I ask, except for Xander. He doesn''t respond at all but that''s normal for him. Either he answers quite bluntly and sometimes too honestly or he doesn''t respond at all.

    I decide to place an order for some stir-fry, then head to my room to see who''s online.

    None of my MMO friends are online, which is a little disappointing, so I wait until my food gets here, pay the delivery guy, then dig in. Chicken-fried rice with teriyaki chicken and some beef, and a drink of tropical punch. Once it''s done, I dispose of the containers, then check to see who''s online.

    Still no one.

    That means it''s time to hop on the European FPS servers and piss off other players with my skills and limited English.

    I pull on my headset, then load up one of the games I started playing after I turned thirteen. Duty of Loyalty has a competitive league and while I don''t play in it¡­ I did once screw up one of its top teams'' battles. It wasn''t a competitive battle or anything like that, just them playing with normies, but they were pretty pissed at getting total-party-killed by some scrub.

    While I couldn''t fully understand what they were saying and don''t know how to read English, I popped onto one of their channels later to view the VOD of the fight and saw the guy raging. It''s one of the reasons I know how to swear in English.

    Well, me playing on the European servers has taught me a lot of the English versions of our swears.

    After signing in, I join a random game as a result of my situation without checking my friend''s list. This isn''t a game I''ve made any friends on, since I barely know any English and almost no one in North America plays it, which is why I hop on the European servers.

    Where basically no one knows Zrebzialan.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    In other words, I can''t really have a "regular" group yet and haven''t made friends.

    The scenario I find myself in when the random game loads is a two-team battle. Setting: an island which once housed a village of around ten thousand people. It''s now in ruins, many of the buildings damaged or destroyed while monsters roam the land.

    It''s an island devastated by the appearance of a portal, a gateway to a pocket dimension filled with resources ¨C resources which can be used to strengthen whoever lays claim to them. While that sounds good in theory, the appearance of the portal created a large number of monsters. The small island village wasn''t able to handle the situation and was destroyed, with what few remaining survivors it had escaping by boat.

    Now, two different military forces have shown up.

    First among them is the one belonging to the nation the island was a part of. Their nation''s wish is to clear out the monsters, recover items of those who were forced to flee, and claim the portal to use its resources for the nation. Some of that will help with the refugees as well.

    Opposing them is an independent military force which wishes to use parts from the monsters and the resources from the portal to strengthen themselves for when they eventually topple the regime. Power over people is their way, and they''ll stop at nothing to get what they want.

    Both sides will have supply drops sent in regularly, but they''ll need to claim them. They can claim the other side''s as well to boost themselves further.

    There are five players and thirty-five AI-controlled soldiers on each side. The ultimate goal of the mission is to lay claim to the portal and secure the area around it. Just taking out all of the enemy team isn''t enough ¨C with the monsters around, it''s still possible to lose. After fifteen and thirty minutes, another forty AI soldiers show up for each side, but only so long as it still has one player still alive.

    While we can issue orders to the AI soldiers and they''ll follow them, they''ll also work on their own if they have no orders. However, they''ll work toward the goal when on their own ¨C killing monsters, defending and healing allies, scouting out ahead, and so on. Sometimes, it''s better to leave them be to gain resources, clear the area, and learn about things in the area than it is to issue them orders.

    I haven''t played this map before but I''m looking forward to it. This game is pretty fun, even if I can''t communicate too well. It looks like I''m a loyal soldier this time, a part of the nation''s military. Our job is to scout the area, locate the exact position of the portal, take out the enemies, and make sure things are ready for a bigger force to come in and take over.

    My team has someone I''ve played with and against several before and she''s pretty good at the game. I don''t know the other three, but I do know two of the names on the enemy team ¨C one of them is someone I''ve fought with or alongside several times before, and one of them is a pro.

    One of the salty sorts. He''ll probably try to hard focus me until he''s taken out. Again.

    "Fucking North American," one of my teammates says in very bad Zrebzialan, probably learned just to be pissy when one of us plays.

    "Bastion!" The teammate I''ve played with and against says as we select our loadout. "Sniper-med?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "Sniper-med."

    Everyone is presented with a list of preset builds and Classes to choose from. Their build determines what weapons they start with, and their Class determines special effects they get. Teams aren''t limited to how many of the same build or Class can be on it and I like being a sniper-med.

    "Oooh, this is Bastion?" I think that''s what one of the teammates says, but then he follows that up with more that I can''t understand.

    "Yeah," the girl I''ve played with and against says as I finally remember her name.

    My game is in Zrebzialan, but it doesn''t translate English text from others and I can''t read it at all. For my own username, it''s in English, but I had to us a translator and some careful adjustments to make sure it was right. Since their usernames are input rather than from the game, I have zero clue what they actually say.

    "He''s insane," Lexi, the girl I enjoy playing on the same team as, tells the other guy.

    I know that word pretty well, mostly because of how often it gets thrown at me. It seems like the other player has heard about me and I think he''s agreeing with her.

    Once the team setup is finished, the unhappy player getting silenced by Lexi, we confirm we''re ready. The other team is still preparing, though there''s still a couple of minutes left on the timer so it doesn''t matter. Either they''re ready by then or they''re forced to deal as the game begins.

    Some degree of a plan is made while we wait, though I can''t really understand what''s being said. Fortunately, Lexi knows from a previous match that I can understand basic directional words such as "right", "left", "north", "east", and so on and uses that to let me know the directions for a few good snipe points.

    When the game begins, I immediately set off and seven of the AI soldiers follow me. I let them do their thing, as they''re actually pretty good at scouting ahead or making sure an area is clear. We navigate our way through the ruins, gunning down the beasts that we come across.

    Though a sniper, I do have a handgun I can use for closer targets. The AI soldiers use more automatic and high-powered weapons, though, so I let them do the work. They''ll do their best to make sure I survive since I''m both a sniper and a medic, two things not good for close-range combat.

    I make sure to keep the AI soldiers healed up between fights but don''t overdo it. While it''s good to keep my allies alive, it''s also good not to run through my spells healing when it won''t be fully utilized. What good is healing someone for 300 HP when they''re only missing 30?

    On the way, we encounter random items left around and I make sure to loot them and monster parts. The AI soldiers are good at that as well and one of them even finds some ammo for my gun that''s a 30% power upgrade over the starter ammo.

    While I don''t know what my allies are doing, I can pick up some of what they''re saying; mostly directions from Lexi. She''s probably taken on the role of team leader and is focusing on making sure we have supplies for when we go for the portal as well.

    We reach my destination and I scale a building, the AI picking up the path I used and having the soldiers do the same. I can go up some of the stairs, but need to climb walls or pillars as well. It doesn''t take me long to figure out the path and reach the top.

    This probably isn''t one of the sniper nests Lexi was trying to tell me as it''s not got a clear line of sight to a wide area¡­ but it''s more than perfect for my needs.

    I look through my scope to a few key spots and see exactly what I expected at the second one: the salty pro sniper going up a building. Either he dismissed the AI soldiers to help the other team or he''s using them as decoys somewhere to conceal his actual location.

    Not that it''s a bad strategy. In all fairness, it''s a good one. Chances are good he''s got shielding or a tank aspect to protect himself better.

    The latter of which doesn''t do much for headshots. I wait for him to reach the roof of the building, then fire off a shot. His avatar is thrown back but there''s no death notification. Shielding, then. Unless he''s gotten a boost or some better shielding gear, he''s now out of shield and has to wait for it to recover.

    By the way his body was thrown by the impact, he''ll know my general direction and is probably telling his team about it now. Chances are, he''ll want to check to see if he can spot me in a quick head-pop. I''m not sure how well-known my patterns are yet but he probably knows I usually keep my AI soldiers with me.

    The best spot for him to discreetly pop his head up quickly and back down would be¡­ there. Not two seconds later, his head pops up slightly to the left of where I''m aiming. I''m able to adjust my aim and click to fire quicker than he can pop his head back down¡­ and I get the notification that I took out an enemy.

    "Oh, yeah!" I cheer. "That''s how you do-"

    "Enemy spotted, 2 o-clock," one of the AI soldiers says, and I turn to face that direction.

    They''re still a decent distance away and aren''t a sniper, so they won''t be able to take me out. It''s just an AI soldier rather than a player, and they''re moving with three others, each checking to make sure the area is clear. I watch for a minute and that''s all they''re doing and all who are there.

    That''s got to be bait.

    I scan the area and spot the actual player, who''s trying to move in stealth with his AI soldiers split up into three groups ¨C I''m guessing he has some of the dead sniper''s with him.

    "Two down!" I exclaim as he drops to the ground.

    I then get to work on taking out the AI soldiers. There are twelve of them in that area, then I take out some of the monsters. Those are taken out by headshots as well, except for one particularly difficult guy that I don''t even try to take on.

    "Section Fourteen," I activate the comms. "Big boy. Ammo low."

    Most of the ammo I''ve looted is for other weapons and we don''t start with very much for our guns. I hope I actually said the words I think I did so my team knows.

    One of the other guys says something which I think means he''s got ammo for me and that he''s in Section 19, so I head over that way and meet up with him, taking out a few more monsters on the way. An airdrop pops up on our radar, so we make our way toward it and I acquire more ammo for my gun on the way.

    There''s a chance the enemy''s spotted the drop as well, so we split off after that point and I climb up a building suitable for a watchtower, my AI soldiers taking up guard around it.

    Looking around, I spot a group of enemies approaching the supply drop.

    "Northeast," I say. "Two players, twenty soldiers."

    I think the nearby ally is asking me where they''re at, but I''m not entirely sure if that''s right or not. I couldn''t give him more precise information, and it''s not relevant, anyway. It''s even possible I said different words than I thought.

    "Northeast," I say once he finishes asking whatever it is. "Twenty soldiers."

    I love being a sniper!

    My temporary partner, our AI soldiers, and I work together to clean up the soldiers and monsters in the area, then we claim the supply drop, which contains additional armor, some magic shield devices to give us shielding, ammo, and recovery supplies. We reunite with the others as a notification pops up letting us know Lexi took out the last of the enemy players.

    Dealing with the rest of the enemy soldiers and random monsters isn''t too difficult with the five of us and our soldiers traveling together. We slowly but surely manage to locate the portal and reach it, then set up a defensive perimeter using materials from a few supply drops that come after we "radio in" we''ve reached the portal. They don''t drop right on us so we have to go back out to retrieve things, but we get the perimeter set up, then take on several waves of monsters and several random ones as we wait for greater military force to arrive.

    "Good game!" We all start saying after we receive the Mission Success notification.

    Since I can''t really understand what they''re all saying after that, I exit out of the mission and am about to submit for a new game when a hand taps my shoulder.

    "Ahh!" I shout in surprise. "I don''t know what happened to the muffins!"

    "What muffins?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "What muffins?" I ask her back as I pull off my headphones, and she just gives me a confused look. "You scared the bejeezies out of me! What''re you doing here? Didn''t you say you had moving-in stuff you''re doing today?"

    "What language were you speaking?" She asks.

    "English," I tell her. "I only know enough to get by on the European servers for Duty of Loyalty. It''s a fun game I play when none of my North American gaming friends are online. Wait! Hey! You didn''t answer my question!"

    "Connor told his dad who told me about your parents leaving for Niagara Falls and only buying bananas and cream of mushroom soup," she says.

    "Oh!" I say. "You''re gonna buy groceries again? Thanks! There''s the grocery list on the fridge, so you didn''t need to let me know before. If my parents don''t want to pay you back after, don''t worry. I know the combination to their safe. How long were you here for?"

    "About ten minutes," she answers. "You didn''t respond when I knocked but I could hear you so I knew you were here. And no, I''m not here to buy groceries. Do you remember what I said before?"

    "About what?"

    "When your parents go on their vacations," she says, and I just give her my best confused look because I''m honestly confused. "That when they do that, I''d like for you to come stay at my place."

    "Oh, right," I say. "I don''t wanna go over."

    "We can pack up your computer and bring it over, Sig," she says.

    "Yeah, but I don''t wanna," I tell her. "It''s not a problem. They do this all the time and they do pay me back when I get groceries."

    "Really?"

    "Well, just a little."

    "Sig," she sighs. "It is a problem."

    "No, it''s not," I say. "This happens all the time, Aunt Rachel. I''m fine, don''t worry!"

    "And yet I do and will worry," she says. "You''re old enough to spend the day alone. Maybe an evening and night. But you''re not old enough to spend days or even weeks by yourself. The only real change between staying here and staying with me while your parents are gone is that you''ll need to let me know where you''re going, when you''re expecting to be back, and who you''ll be with. Maybe ask permission at times.

    "And you''ll not have to rely on Paul or doing dog sitting/walking, babysitting, and mowing for food," she pokes me in the stomach. "There is a restriction on the pool use, but that''s for safety purposes. If you pack up your computer and some clothes, we can take them over to the house and get it set up in the room we''ve set up for you. Then, we can go to the store and get groceries. I was on my way to do that when Paul called me."

    She''s not going to let this go, and she''ll probably tell my parents I was misbehaving or being disobedient or something when they return. Then I''ll get grounded and that''ll ruin a significant part of the rest of the summer.

    I let out a big sigh.

    "Fiiiiiiiiine."

    "I''ve noticed you''re usually shirtless around the house," she says. "You''re free to do that at my place, too, if that''s what makes you comfortable. As I said, this is mostly for safety reasons, Sig. It''s to make sure you''re fed and you''re not left alone for a long time. Once we get back from shopping, you can go swimming, too."

    I guess one good thing about this "extra supervision" is that I''ll be able to go swimming more often, since it won''t have to be a time where my friends and I are heading into the woods around or outside of town. Hopefully, someone''s free to come over and swim once we''re ready, I don''t like playing alone.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Hi, Dad!" I say as he enters my workshop. "Guess what? So I was going to go clothes shopping, except Parker was in a weird mood and it''s not as fun to go by myself, so I came in to the office to do some work instead! And I helped out on one of the big generators we''re building and made one of those really complicated bits for it that only a few of us can make. Then after lunch ¨C Mom got me something ¨C I built this!"

    I hold up the robot while Dad just stares at me. He doesn''t even look at the robot and I''m super proud of it.

    It''s about fourteen inches in height and has a humanoid shape, including with hands that have fingers it can use like we can. He''s even got the hilt of a sword on his left hip, ready for battle, and a gun strapped to his back. A small, homemade one designed for the robot.

    "It''s a robot!" I tell him as I pick up the controller. "A remote-controlled one that fights with lightning magic!"

    "Luke," Dad says. "I knew most of that already. I''m the one who drove you here, remember?"

    "Oh, right!" I say. "But that''s not important. Look! It''s a robot! So I was designing it and I thought to myself, what would make it awesome? And the answer to that was a sword and a gun and-"

    "Luke," Dad says. "Come with me."

    "O¡­kay?"

    He doesn''t care about my robot, which is really disappointing. I''ve spent hours building it and Dad''s just like "come with me" instead of "that''s so cool, show me everything!" Today is just not my day, and I''m definitely going to spend a few hours playing a game and eating ice cream when I get home.

    Dad leads me up to a testing room I''ve never been in before. I''m not sure what it''s used for, but it has an area around fifty feet in diameter that''s sectioned-off in the center of the room. It has a short wall about eighteen inches in height, and the runes drawn on it indicate that the purpose of it is to contain damage. There''s a sort of barrier in the walls and the floor and a dome-like one will form over it when the protective magitech is turned on.

    "I''d heard you talk about making robots if you''re playing around," Dad says. "And figured you might make one. So I built one myself, because what is the reason for building a combat robot if not to use it to fight against another?"

    Did he just say what I think he just said?

    "Seriously?" I ask as Dad walks over to the other side of the oval-shaped center zone and picks up¡­ a robot about the same size as mine! "That''s awesome!"

    "Put yours in," Dad tells me as he sets his robot into the zone. "Then let''s begin."

    I set my robot down in the arena and pull the controller back out as Dad pulls out a controller of his own. Dad turns on the protective enchantment and a clear barrier forms over the field. This will allow us to battle the robots without damaging the rest of the room.

    We count down from three and once we reach zero, we begin the battle. Dad''s robot whips out a gun while I have mine whip out his sword and charge forward. Though it started as only a hilt, a blade of lightning and plasma forms when it''s drawn.

    Dad''s robot shoots small bullets of ice at mine. The damage readout on my controller indicates each bullet drains about 0.1% of the energy from its defensive barrier coating, so I can handle them for a little bit.

    Dad dodges my robot''s initial strike, but I shift mine into a spin that catches the barrel of the gun and part of the robot''s hand.

    "Ha-ha!" I exclaim as the gun clatters against the arena wall. "Got you!"

    "Only a little!" Dad responds as his robot hold a hand forward, conjuring a barrier of water.

    The gun was a trick! Dad''s robot''s a mage!

    "No!" I exclaim. "Water negates lightning!" My robot''s sword goes through the water. "Or not, because it''s magical lightning!"

    And magical water¡­ which freezes solid before my robot''s sword can strike Dad''s robot, somehow cutting off the blade of lightning and plasma as it forms into a solid barrier.

    "Wait, no, not fair!" I say as a dozen tiny spears of ice mixed with lightning form around Dad''s robot as I have mine dance out of the way and cancel its sword before pulling out its gun to start shooting tiny bullets of lightning. "Wait! Dad! No! One element! Stick to one element! I didn''t think of two!"

    "Should''ve thought of more!" Dad laughs as his robot fires its conjured spears, which slam into my robot, taking its barrier all the way down to 0%.

    Fortunately, the metal I built the robot with is pretty durable and only gets lightly scratched from the attack. The barrier is more of a way to know when to stop the battle.

    "Nooooooooooo!" I cry out in fake agony. "I''ve faaaaaaaaaaaailed!"

    "And when you''re done wailing," Dad says. "Let''s order something for dinner, then you can make some improvements to yours and we can go for a second round. How does that sound?"

    Upgrading my robot is a definite must if I want to best Dad''s, that fight was so short because of how inadequate my robot was! I''ll need to strengthen the defensive barrier, increase the capacity of the mana batteries, add in a few additional defensive enchantments, and add in some more attack enchantments and magitech as well. Those are just the basics of what I need to do to upgrade this, but I can manage all of that in probably an hour, since it''s mostly upgrades and small additions.

    Depending on how long dinner takes to get here, I might even be able to finish before we eat.

    "Fantastic!" I answer. "I want pizza! Can we do pizza? And I can already think of the things I''m going to upgrade on mine so it can win next time! I''m gonna-"

    "Tell me what they are and you''ll just lose again," Dad grins at me.

    "Oh, right!"

    I shouldn''t tell him my upgrades or he''ll counter them with his own!

    With that in mind, I start to leave the room and Dad calls out to me.

    "Calm your sparking before you leave!"

    I guess I was getting a bit too excited, but I don''t care! Dad building a robot so we can play together is amazing and I''m eager for round two. Victory will be mine!

 Chapter 0050

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "-and there was a muffin, and there was a potato," I say. "And it was really weird."

    "I''m sure it was," Ms. Katie says without looking away from what she''s doing.

    She asked me how I slept last night and I mentioned I had weird dreams. After I said that, she asked me if I wanted to share them. I did make the mistake of thinking she was just asking if I wanted to share them, but she wasn''t upset and just let me know that I could share them if I wanted to.

    So now I am. They really were weird.

    "They were hugging each other."

    "That is weird," she looks at me. "How were they hugging each other?"

    "I don''t know," I answer. "Now that I''m fully awake, I''m not really sure what was going on. Or even how they were hugging. It''s all a bit blurry. Not blurry. Hm¡­"

    "Maybe ''hazy'' is the right word?" She asks as she returns to pulling stuff out of cabinets. "It''s there, but not fully clear?"

    "Maybe that would work," I say. "Was it a weird dream? I thought it was weird, but maybe I''m just wrong."

    "No," she says. "That was definitely a weird dream. And then there was-whoa!"

    I grip the seat of the stool tightly as my heart starts pounding hard and fast. These things spinning is not something I knew they could do and it''s my first time sitting on one. It''s one of the stools that sits on the dining room side of the counter which separates it from the kitchen, and they''re a little bit high but not too high. Ms. Katie said it was okay to sit on it.

    And it just spun when I shifted my feet a little.

    "You okay?"

    "Maybe," I answer. "I don''t know. My heart is still pounding really hard."

    "You were about to tell me something else," she says. "Another dream?"

    "Oh, right," I say. "So I had another dream that was even weirder than the first one."

    "Really?" She asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Is it okay to ask questions?"

    "It''s about breakfast?" She asks.

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "Sure."

    "Is that the bread we baked last night?"

    One of the things she pulled out was a loaf of bread, and we baked some last night after I got back from Greyson''s workshop. I was allowed to return for a little bit after dinner to do more work on the AR set since I needed more data from Greyson''s database and a couple of more items for what I wanted to do with it yesterday.

    The preliminary version should be complete now, so next is just improving it and doing the other stuff I don''t remember Luke saying he has to do with the generator. But I should do that for the AR set as well. I should ask Greyson, I''m pretty sure he does all that stuff, too.

    Which isn''t really important right now. My mind is wandering. It''s started to do that a lot lately, hasn''t it? Ever since my brain got all fixed up, I think. Or at least, it''s doing it more since then. I''m not sure if how often it wandered before.

    It''s doing it again.

    What was I thinking about? Oh, right, the bread!

    "Xander?" Ms. Katie asks. "You look like you got lost in thought."

    "Sorry," I say. "Is that the bread we baked last night?"

    It looks like it.

    "Did I already ask that?" I realize.

    "It is," she answers. "And you did, then didn''t respond after I answered. You okay?"

    "Maybe," I answer. "My mind wants to wander."

    "Make sure it puts its shoes on first."

    "But you can''t put shoes on brains?"

    "Never mind," she chuckles. "Did you have other questions?"

    "Right," I say. "Yeah, I did. I''ve been making guesses in my head about what you''re making for breakfast, but I wasn''t sure on it. And then you brought out a loaf of bread. Two loaves."

    She pulled out another loaf as I said that. We baked ten loaves of bread last night, which is pretty fun. Also partially because of how much I eat. An entire loaf can go into making sandwiches for me.

    "A variant on french toast," she tells me. "They''ll be french toast rolls. We''ll slice the bread, then put a filling on them, roll them up, give them a good coating, then bake them. While they cook, we''ll fix up bacon, sausages, eggs, and a fruit salad for the sides."

    "The fruit salad that''s just a bunch of fruit and that glaze thingy you do?" I ask. "Or the fruit salad with layers and yogurt and stuff?"

    "A parfait?" She asks.

    "Oh, right, that''s the name."

    "Do you want a parfait?"

    "Is that okay?" I ask. "I like them."

    "Sure," she says. "We can make you a parfait."

    "Okay! Thanks, Ms. Katie!"

    "You''re welcome," she says. "So about your other weird dreams, you said you had a lot last night?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "So after the one where the muffin and the potato hugged, there was another dream with a muffin, but this time, there was a banana instead of a potato. And the banana said to the muffin ''I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOUL''," I try to deepen my voice for that. "In a deep voice sort of like that but also better and maybe a little bit more¡­ rough? I don''t know if that''s the right word. Anyway, the muffin then laughed and said ''I''d like to see you try! I''m a muffin, I''ve got no soul!'' and the banana then sad ''THEN I''LL JUST CONSUME YOU'' and talking like that makes my throat hurt so I don''t think I''ll do it again even if the pain goes away fast ''cause I heal that fast. But anyway, before the dream showed me what it''s like for a banana to eat a muffin, a turtle showed up and ate both."

    "Do you normally have dreams this weird?" She asks. "When you''re not having nightmares, that is?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "The ones I remember, anyway."

    "I see," she says. "What other strange dreams from last night do you remember?"

    "There was a duck speaking French."

    "A duck speaking French?" She gives me a confused look.

    "Yeah," I nod. "It was talking about its favorite foods. That''s all that was going on. We were by a pond. He likes insects and molle juste. I think it was supposed to be ''juste mou'', though, because ''just soft things'' makes more sense than ''soft just''. Though that doesn''t match up with insects, since most of those are actually hard."

    "It was probably ''mollusque''," she tells me. "The French word for ''mollusk'', which includes snails. Wait. You know French?"

    "I don''t know how, when, or where I learned it, but I do know it."

    "For how long?"

    "I don''t know," I answer. "I only discovered I knew French when I had that dream. It was better than the bear speaking in Japanese, though. That was during last night''s dreams as well, and it was asking for directions to the zoo so it could make fun of the animals there for not getting to eat the fish it caught."

    "What kind of fish?"

    "I don''t know," I answer. "It didn''t say and I didn''t see."

    "I see," she says. "Are there any other languages you know?"

    "English," I answer. "And Swedish. I learned those years ago. I don''t remember learning them, but I maybe learned them from the old man who lived down from the first home I was in. The group home before my last foster home. The place I was living when I got hit by a car. There was an old man who lived a few doors down, and he moved here from Sweden, but he also knew English."

    "Interesting," she says. "Back to your dreams. Were there any other strange ones you want to tell me about?"

    "I got to ride a dragon in one," I tell hr. "That''s definitely strange. Grandpa Adrian''s the only dragon I know of and I doubt he''d let me ride on his back. I doubt he''d even transform back to his dragon form. He even told me that he''s not a dragon, but I could tell he was lying."

    His mana was honest.

    "Who''s not a dragon?" Mr. Trey asks, and I turn to look at him, but the stool spins a little too much and I start to fall off. "Got you!"

    Mr. Trey catches me before I fall and makes sure I''m seated properly before letting me go. He touched me. He touched me. He touched me. I was touched. I was touched. I was touched.

    "Are you okay?" Mr. Trey asks. "Sorry for grabbing you, you were about to fall and I didn''t want you to hit your head."

    "I¡­ think I am," I tell him as I try to get my breathing under control and my heart to stop pounding hard and fast. "But maybe I should get off the stool. That''s twice now."

    "Use a little bit less force and you should be fine," Mr. Trey tells me as he sits on the stool two right of this one. "You said someone''s a dragon but is denying it?"

    "Grandpa Adrian," I nod. "I could tell it when I saw his mana. Oh. Also, he asked me if I knew a good time for him to come over. I told him I''d have to ask you since I don''t know that sort of stuff. That''s why I came down, but you weren''t down yet. Ms. Katie and I were talking about my dreams last night. They were really weird."

    "What kind of weird?"

    "Two cheesecakes were boxing and the peach cobbler won."

    Mr. Trey just stares at me in response. Does he think I''m stupid? I know I am stupid, but¡­ or maybe he''s just confused and doesn''t know what to say.

    "Peach cobbler isn''t a cheesecake," he says.

    "I didn''t make the dream," I tell him. "It just happened. But I think the peach cobbler was influenced by Greyson. It blew up the boxing ring."

    Mr. Trey laughs a little.

    "You can tell your great-grandpa that anytime after eight works."

    "Okay," I pull out my phone and text Grandpa Adrian to let him know, and he responds quickly. "He says he''ll be here at eight. That''s not after eight, though¡­"

    "Eight works," Mr. Trey tells me before I can type out a response.

    "Okay."

    We watch Ms. Katie make breakfast, with Mr. Trey talking with her as she works. Breakfast itself is nice, and it turns out to be rolled french toast with cream cheese and strawberry filling and a slightly-crunchy cinnamon coating on the outside. It''s really good, but I like the parfait better.

    Nothing else really happens until it''s time for Grandpa Adrian to show up, so I wait by the door once I have nothing else to do. Mr. Trey keeps walking around checking things for some reason. If I did that, he''d probably yell at me and send me to my room.

    But adults are always getting to do things kids get into trouble for, so I just wait as patiently as I can by the door.

    "Hello, Grandpa Adrian," I say as Mr. Trey opens the door to let him in once he arrives.

    He''s made himself look like an old man again, and it''s messing with my vision.

    "Is it okay to ask you to not look like an old man?" I ask.

    "Xander!" Mr. Trey''s tone is very scolding.

    Oh, no! I messed up!

    "It''s okay," Grandpa Adrian says as Mr. Trey closes the door. "I was hoping a spell I cast would prevent that from happening, but it seems it''s still affecting you, huh?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "To explain," Grandpa Adrian looks at Trey. "Do you really think a mage thousands of years old has to look like an old man?"

    Mr. Trey''s expression says he hadn''t thought about that. So it''s not just me being stupid, but even adults might not think about.

    "I alter my body''s biology to look like an old man," Grandpa Adrian tells Mr. Trey. "Ordinarily, no one should notice it. Xander''s a bit of an unusual case in that he inherited my perspicacity. I explained it to him when we met the other day, but magical perspicacity is the ability to see what is real. In short, Xander can see the truth when someone or something uses magic to disguise it. He can see through illusions and even see things which are ordinarily unseen. This is separate from his magesight, that''s a different beast altogether."

    "It''s a beast?" I ask.

    "That''s a metaphor."

    "Oh."

    Grandpa Adrian shifts to his real appearance.

    "This is what I really look like," he informs Mr. Trey. "Xander''s perspicacity makes him see both this and my old man form when I''m in the other one."

    "Dragons have some really amazing powers," I tell Mr. Trey.

    "I''m not a dragon, Xander," Grandpa Adrian says.

    "Including the ability to fool my ability to tell when people are lying," I add. "His mana is very honest in being a dragon''s."

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Mr. Trey''s phone rings, and he pulls it out while I look at Grandpa Adrian.

    "It sounds like Ms. Johnson is here," I tell him.

    That''s what the person who called Mr. Trey is saying. Since my good hearing comes from Grandpa Adrian, he can probably hear the other part of the call as well.

    "That was your case worker at the boys'' home, yes?"

    "Yeah."

    "Probably coming to see how you''re doing."

    "Overwhelmed," I tell him. "Want to see the AR set I made? It''s not done yet, I have to do tweaks and optimizations and stuff. I don''t know what all I have to do, just that I have to make sure it''s good before it''s really usable. And then make more of them so that I can play with them with my friends. I''m making a zombie shooter game because I think they like that sort of thing, and I know they like laser tag. So this is me trying to mix the two together for us to play."

    "Sure," he says.

    "Mr. Trey," I say. "Can I show it to Grandpa Adrian?"

    "If you want," he says. "Though Ms. Johnson is here and she might want to talk with you."

    "I know," I hold out my hands and focus. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaand there!"

    My backpack appears in my hands. Sort of. I have to catch it a little, but then I open it up and pull out the AR set and hand it to Grandpa Adrian. He examines it a little, then pulls it on. Ms. Johnson is let into the house as I explain to Grandpa Adrian how to use it.

    "Those are zombies," he says. "Did you make those?"

    "They were in Greyson''s database."

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Grandpa Adrian?"

    "It really feels like I''m being bitten by a zombie."

    "Well, it wouldn''t be done right if I didn''t include that," I tell him.

    What I want to tell him is that he was supposed to use the accompanying gun to shoot the zombies rather than let them bite him. Telling an adult what they''re supposed to do is very bad, though, and I don''t want to get into trouble.

    "Does it have tastes as well?" Grandpa Adrian asks.

    "Also from Greyson''s database, so I know they''re proper," I confirm, then feel like I have to admit something. "I''m scared to ask why he has all this data for magitech AR stuff."

    "I would recommend removing all three of those for the game," he tells me.

    "How come?" I ask. "Isn''t it supposed to be as good as possible?"

    "Sometimes," he says. "Things can be too good. The feeling of being bitten by a zombie, and the smell of rotting flesh isn''t exactly pleasant and can make people sick. Same with tastes, if splatter gets into their mouth."

    "So I messed up?"

    Why can''t I do anything right?

    "No," Grandpa Adrian says as he pulls off the set and hands it to me. "You did too good. I can see uses for that, but not for a zombie shooter. We can talk more later, okay? I wish to speak with Trey, and I''m sure Ms. Johnson here wishes to talk with you."

    "Hello, Ms. Johnson," I put the AR set back into my backpack, then pull Trenton out. "This is my great-grandpa. My biological one, not Mr. Trey''s grandpa or something like that. He''s my birth dad''s dad''s dad."

    "My name''s Adrian King," Grandpa Adrian reaches a hand out for Ms. Johnson to shake, and she suddenly looks very nervous. "Trey was looking into options for helping with Xander''s brain damage and reached out to me for help, as the only option he found was far too expensive for nearly anyone. When I looked into the situation, I discovered Xander was one of my own descendants. It''s a bit complicated on why I didn''t know about him before, but I promise I''m not here to try and take Xander away.

    "He seems quite happy living with Trey," Grandpa Adrian continues. "And I wanted to meet the man himself and speak with him a little. Xander''s not my first descendant I didn''t know about until a decent time after they were born and I have a few things I do in that situation. Taking them away from a good home isn''t one of them."

    The background check that he did was probably far more thorough and in-depth than what the boys'' home did, and in less time. That''s the sort of power the most powerful man in the world has. If he thinks this home is good, then that means it probably is.

    I agree with him. It definitely seems good so far.

    "I see," Ms. Johnson accepts his hand for a shake.

    "Ms. Johnson, do you want to see the classroom where Mr. Trey has a private tutor helping me try to get ready for 8<sup>th</sup> Grade? Wait. Mr. Trey, is it okay if I show her?"

    I mixed up the order of asking and I hope that''s not too much of a problem.

    "Go ahead," Mr. Trey tells me. "If she wants to, that is. You can show her anything you''re allowed to go to or use."

    "Okay," I say. "Ms. Johnson? Would you like a tour?"

    "Sure," she says. "I''m here to see how you''re settling in, so if you want to show me around, you can."

    "Okay!" I say. "This way, please."

    I lead Ms. Johnson to the classroom, which has a few posters up on the walls and the beanbag chairs in their places.

    "We''d normally have a class right now," I tell her. "But with Grandpa Adrian visiting today and me still feeling overwhelmed from the holiday and Wednesday, we decided to cancel them again today. I think we''ll be back to normal on Monday."

    "So you take classes in here?" She asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "I sit on this beanbag," I pat the green beanbag. "And Trenton likes this one," I pat the purple one. "Luke likes this yellow one ¨C he lives next door and comes over for the lessons so it''s not just me and the teacher. And Parker comes over, too. Parker''s Luke''s friend and lives on the other side of Luke from here. Parker likes this blue one. When S.G. was filling in while Luke was away, he sat on it, but also on that green one there."

    "S.G.''s one of the boys from the bowling alley, right?" She asks. "One of the friends of Mr. Thompson''s son? I think Paul called him ''Sig''."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Only people he''s close to are allowed to call him that, everyone else has to call him ''S.G.'' I was at his aunt''s house on Wednesday. I spent the night there Tuesday and didn''t have any nightmares! They were super nice, too! And we helped with the back yard, ''cause it''s a new house for her but an old house that needed fixing up and stuff. Mr. Trey came over and did some grilling for dinner."

    "That sounds nice," she says.

    "It was!" I agree. "And I even got to see Hunter again! Oh. I don''t know if I ever told you, but my old foster brother once got punched by Hunter. He''s sixteen now, so it wasn''t even like it was an older person. He got angry at my old foster brother for not being nice to me."

    "And Hunter is¡­?"

    "Mr. Fuller''s son."

    "And who is Mr. Fuller?"

    "A coworker of Mr. Thompson''s," I answer. "He came over to help Ms. Rachel. Her new house has a pool. Want to see Mr. Trey''s?"

    "Sure," she says.

    I lead her out of the classroom, but get an idea and show her the training room.

    "This isn''t the pool," I tell her. "But Coach Evan ¨C that''s the other teacher ¨C does some fitness stuff in here. Martial arts on the padded floor, and then exercises over there. Dumbbells, bodyweight stuff, and jump rope, for example. The lessons in the classroom are to help me not be stupid, but the stuff in here is to help me gain weight and not be weak. Look!"

    I lift up my shirt and point at the side of my stomach.

    "You can see it kind of," I say. "But my abs are starting to get defined. Just very, very, very slightly. So you have to squint. But that means I''m on the way to being healthy, so I''m happy with that. I''ve even gained weight! Since the end-of-school checkup, I''ve grown nearly an inch and gained about 17 pounds. I weigh about 80 pounds now! Coach Evan says that it''s because I had so little meat to start with, the muscles are able to show more easily as they develop."

    I poke my stomach, then lower my shirt.

    "It''s nice to see you''re filling out some," she says. "You seem pretty happy here, Xander."

    "I am pretty happy," I tell her as we leave the fitness room. "But also scared Mr. Trey is going to decide he doesn''t like me anymore and send me back. I really like this place and don''t want to leave it."

    "We can hope," she says. "Xander, is that the Adrian King? Of the Lumaria Kings?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "Apparently, I even have super-regeneration that''s from his side of the family, but it wasn''t active because I was subconsciously using a bunch of high-level, mana-intensive spells to keep myself alive with the brain damage. I didn''t have enough mana for my regeneration to work. Then Greyson ¨C that''s the dork''s real name, by the way ¨C realized I wasn''t doing that on purpose and gave me some mana potion. A few hours later, my brain was all fixed up from my regeneration. Mr. Trey still wants me to see a doctor to make sure it''s really fixed, so I''m hoping Grandpa Adrian talks him out of it. I don''t want to go back to the doctor''s."

    "You never do," she says. "You wear glasses now?"

    "Apparently, my vision being wonky isn''t supposed to be normal."

    "No, it''s not," she says. "You never said anything at the home."

    "I just thought it was puberty," I tell her. "Mr. Trey gave me a puberty talk. I was too nervous to tell him that I got one at the boys'' home, too. Though the one he gave me was a little bit different than the one Mr. Evanson gives the fifth-graders. He didn''t seem as comfortable giving it, either. And was making sure I knew rules for sexual stuff and for what to do if someone ever tried to pressure me into it, even if he says that probably won''t happen for awhile."

    "It probably won''t," she says. "If ever. Let''s hope it doesn''t."

    "I learned how to breathe fire," I tell her. "So if someone tries to force me, I can just do that. I doubt they''d ever try again. Wow. That''s the first time I''ve been able to get the full thing out. Mr. Trey always interrupts me."

    I look up at Ms. Johnson, who looks like she''s trying to hide a laugh. This is very serious! It''s important to be able to defend oneself!

    "Sorry, Xander," she covers her mouth. "I''ve just never expected to hear you be willing to harm someone, even if it''s self-defense. You''re right that it''s serious, but it might be better to learn a spell that isn''t as damaging. Maybe something to bind them while the police arrives?"

    "I also learned how to teleport," I tell her. "So I could just teleport away. And here''s the pool room!"

    I show her the indoor pool, then take her to the changing rooms and show her my swim trunks and the full-body swimsuit.

    "This lets me pick," I tell her. "So if I think I can be comfortable in just the swim trunks, I can wear those. If not, I can wear the bodysuit. But I don''t like wearing just the full suit because it''s kind of skintight. Not super skintight, so it doesn''t like, do anything inappropriate. But it makes me feel naked if I don''t wear the swim trunks as well so I wear both the suit and one of the trunks if I''m wearing the suit. Swimming class is on Mondays. There''s an outdoor pool, too."

    I lead Ms. Johnson out back and show her the outdoor pool, then lead her back inside and to Mr. Quinn''s office.

    "Hi, Mr. Quinn," I say. "This is Ms. Johnson, she works at the boys'' home and came to see how I''m doing. Ms. Johnson, this is Mr. Quinn. If I want to get driven somewhere and it''s not Mr. Trey taking me, I can ask Mr. Quinn. That''s basically his whole job, along with being a bodyguard for me."

    "We met when we were vetting Trey," Ms. Johnson tells me. "Hello again, Quinn."

    "Hello, ma''am," Mr. Quinn says. "How are you?"

    "Doing well," she says. "Xander''s giving me a tour. This place has changed a little since we did the inspections."

    They inspected the house?

    "Trey wanted to make sure it had the stuff needed," Mr. Quinn tells her. "Renovated some rooms to make learning and training areas for Xander."

    That''s all that''s really said here, so I lead Ms. Johnson to the theater room.

    "I watch documentaries in here," I tell Ms. Johnson as she looks around the room. "And I played a game in here with S.G. and the others. It was fun and I want to play again, but I''m too stupid to figure out the puzzles on my own so I''m waiting until they come over again for the next time I play. Mr. Trey sometimes watches stuff with me. After Ms. Katie and I baked bread last night, we watched a documentary on vortex bears. They come in two main varieties: air and water. There are ones for other elements, but they''re rarer. Greyson claims to have wrestled a stone vortex bear before, but I think he was just dreaming."

    "Do you just use it for that stuff?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "Yeah," I answer as I walk over to the snacks and drinks area. "Mr. Trey says I can use it for other stuff, like watching movies and shows or playing other games, but I''m not sure. Plus, I''m not sure what kind of other stuff to watch or play. This is the snacks and drinks area. Refreshments, I think? Look! Mr. Trey put signs on things so I can know how to use them. I''m allowed to get snacks in here whenever I want, but I usually get them from Ms. Katie in the kitchen if I''m not doing something in here."

    The next place I show Ms. Johnson is the bedroom Mr. Trey''s letting me use.

    "That''s a lot of stuffed animals," she says.

    "Mr. Trey buys me lots," I nod. "Usually one or two, sometimes three or four, when we go shopping. If he keeps doing that, the bed might become super full of them and they''ll need to be stacked on each other. Trenton sits in that middle spot."

    "He buys them for you when you go shopping?"

    "If we''re at a store that sells them," I nod. "I keep looking in that direction without realizing it and then he asks if I want one. I do, but I don''t want him to buy them, but I can''t say that because that''d be wrong. But then saying I don''t would be lying and I''d get into trouble for that. So I just say I do. And then he takes me over and lets me pick one out. More if I''m feeling unhappy. And then I take awhile to decide because I do want one, but I don''t want him to buy one for me, and then I want one that''s more expensive but I don''t want him getting mad at me for asking for it so I try to look at the cheaper ones. Then Mr. Trey''s just like ''Xander, just pick one out. If it''s too expensive, I''ll tell you''. Oh. But I didn''t get all of them from Mr. Trey. That lightning wolf came from Luke. He got it when getting the video game it''s from. I don''t remember clearly, but I think he was hoping to get Trenton a friend? And also to try and get me to like him, but he''s too noisy. Not the way I am when I get comfortable like this, he''s loud and very full of energy."

    Ms. Johnson and I talk a little bit more as I take her back downstairs to where Mr. Trey and Grandpa Adrian are talking, and Mr. Trey looks at her.

    "Tiffany," he says. "I noticed that there are some foods Xander can eat with some convincing, and others that he''ll absolutely refuse even if it would mean getting into trouble. I asked him if he had a list, but he wasn''t entirely sure."

    "Of course!" She smacks her head. "I didn''t think about it when making the binder for you. We do actually have one made up, including the levels of aversion. It''s normally used when someone from the other home is covering since we all sort of just remember it now, so it slipped through the cracks. I''ll get a copy made for you."

    They''re talking as if I''m not standing right here. That''s very rude, but saying that would be very bad since I''m just a kid and they''re adults. Kids aren''t allowed to tell adults they''re being rude.

    "Thanks," he says as Grandpa Adrian steps to the side and beckons for me to come over. "Go ahead, Xander."

    "Okay."

    "Also," Ms. Johnson says as I start to walk off with Grandpa Adrian. "While Xander''s tastes don''t really change, some of what he''ll avoid can change, but don''t try to force it. It''ll just happen on its own. One example is bananas ¨C he refused to eat anything banana, even if it was just in taste, when he first came to the home. About a year and a half ago, he started eating bananas, as long as they were a part of something or cut up. If he cut them up, at first, though eventually started eating ones others cut."

    "Landon helped me with that," I say, and they both look at me. "Sorry, Grandpa Adrian."

    "It''s okay," he says. "Who''s Landon?"

    "Yeah," Ms. Johnson says. "Who''s Landon?"

    Fuck. I messed up and mentioned him when I really shouldn''t have.

    "Um¡­" I squirm a little. "He''s someone I''ve met a few times when I''m out."

    "It''s at one of your safe places, isn''t it?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    She figured that out really fast, but I really don''t want to say anything about where this safe place is or what it could be. Even though she apparently knew about the street with the shops I like going to, I''m absolutely certain this one is unknown to her. Privacy and secrecy is kind of one of their big things.

    "Maybe."

    "Is Landon a therapist?" Mr. Trey asks. "Though you didn''t add the ''Mr.'' in front, so I''m guessing he''s a kid?"

    Why did that sound like a question?

    "No," I tell him. "He''s an adult, but he prefers to be called ''Landon'' over ''Mr. Landon''. I don''t know his last name. He refused to tell me. And he''s not a therapist, he''s a supervisor. We were talking about bananas last January and he asked me if I didn''t like the taste. I told him the taste was fine, I just don''t like bananas. Actually, they taste really good to me.

    "He put a banana on the table," I say. "And said ''so you won''t eat this''? And I said ''no''. Then he put a plate with a slice of banana bread in front of me and asked why I wouldn''t eat it. I wasn''t really sure. I just¡­ didn''t want to? Ever? I don''t know why I didn''t want to eat it, I just didn''t. The taste and texture were fine. So Landon helped me to be able to eat it. After I was eating banana bread and banana chips and banana nut muffins for a few weeks, he suggested trying to cut up bananas to put into cereal. That''s really good."

    Doing that won''t work for something like beans or mustard, though. Nothing anyone can say or do will ever get me to willingly eat those.

    "Sometimes," Grandpa Adrian says. "It can be a matter of how something is prepared, or presented. Xander, would you mind giving me a tour while they talk?"

    This could have been done with the tour with Ms. Johnson, but saying that would just get me into trouble.

    I show Grandpa Adrian around the house. He''s quiet and doesn''t ask very many questions, but I think he''s examining the magics in the walls and stuff. It''s been made very clear to me that he''s very protective of his family, so he''s probably wanting to make sure the protective magics here are good.

    When I finish showing him everything important enough to be shown, I take him down to where Mr. Trey is talking with Ms. Johnson. As we reach them, Ms. Katie walks over and gives me a milkshake.

    "It''s strawberry-banana," she tells me. "And just a little bit of caramel, like you like it."

    How did she know I was going to ask for one? She had it prepared for me when we got down here and everything, so she had to have known in advance.

    It''s possible she''s psychic.

    "Thanks," I say.

    "No straw?" Grandpa Adrian asks.

    "No straw," I drink some of the milkshake. "That limits how much I can drink at once. They have metal straws here, but those feel weird on my lips."

    "You don''t use straws at restaurants, either," Mr. Trey says.

    "All straws feel weird on my lips."

    "As someone who has lived many times longer than straws have existed on Earth," Grandpa Adrian says. "I can agree with Xander on them feeling strange."

    "As someone who has-" Ms. Johnson begins to repeat him in what sounds likes a question, but cuts off as her eyes widen. "You''re not one of the Adrian King''s descendants who has the same name? You''re actually him? You''ve always looked like an older man in media."

    She looks a lot more nervous around him. Why did she become nervous just because she realized that he''s Grandpa Adrian? I would''ve thought that was obvious by him being my great-grandpa. She was even asking me about him being the Adrian King.

    "I use magic to alter my biological age," Grandpa Adrian tells her. "As most people wouldn''t accept or believe a being as ancient as me looking like I''m nineteen or twenty. Xander has a special trait he inherited from me which causes him to see both what I currently look like and what I actually look like at the same time. There''s no reason to make him deal with that, so I saw no reason to hide my real appearance. The intention is to have people accept me on sight, not to mess with the vision of others."

    In other words, it''s not because of me specifically that he''s looking like his real self but because of magical perspicacity.

    "O-oh¡­"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Ms. Johnson would like for me to give her a tour as well. Do you want to join us?"

    They probably have adult stuff they want to talk about and the "good" answer is probably that I don''t. That''s also the honest answer, as I don''t want them talking about me with me right there again. It''s very rude.

    Also something they''re probably going to do if I walk with them.

    "If it''s okay," I say. "And he wants to, can I show Grandpa Adrian the AR set some more? He didn''t get very long to look at it."

    "Sure," Mr. Trey looks at Grandpa Adrian. "Do you mind?"

    "Not at all," Grandpa Adrian says. "I''m glad to hear Xander''s found something he likes, especially with his cousin having not influenced him too much."

    "What does that mean?" I whisper to him.

    "Cousin?" Ms. Johnson asks.

    "I''m sure you know of him," Mr. Trey tells her. "It''s ''the dork''. I''ll tell you more during the tour."

    They walk off, then I look at Grandpa Adrian.

    "Want to try and play the zombie shooter I''ve programmed so far?" I ask. "I can''t promise it''s any good, but I can promise that it works."

 Chapter 0051

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts around the beginning of Chapter 50

    "Where are you going?" Aunt Rachel asks as I reach the front door.

    "It''s Friday and the weather is predicted to be great, so I''m going out!" I answer.

    "Where?" She asks. "And who with, and when do you expect to be back?"

    "Uuuugh!"

    First she forces me to come over and stay with her, then she forces me to do this. It''s never been a problem before, I don''t see why I have to start doing this! This is one of the safest areas in America, too!

    "Sig," she says. "It''s part of the rules for when you''re staying here. You have to tell me where you''re going, who you''re going to be with, and when you expect to be back."

    "It''s not even seven on a Friday in summer," I tell her. "I have no idea where all I''m going, who all will be there, or what time I''ll be back. Happy?"

    "No," she says. "That''s not answering the question at all."

    "It''s the truth!" I tell her. "Connor, Sam, and Isaac aren''t up yet, Xander''s probably got his lessons, so I''m just heading out! First to go back to my house to get my bike, since we forgot it. Then I''ll probably get something to eat, then maybe go to the park. If others are up for it, then to a pond in the woods. Or maybe for a hike. I might go to the games center. Or the rec center. I literally do not know! The only plan for today is to spend it having fun! Or would you rather I spent it playing video games all day again? Because I can do that!"

    "Sig," she says. "Please drop the attitude."

    "Please drop the stupid!"

    "Sebastian Greyson!"

    "Rachel Meredith!"

    We stare at each other for several very long moments. I''m not giving up on this. I love her, but she''s not my boss. She can''t just come and decide to put herself in charge of me ¨C it''s my parents'' choice on that and they haven''t said it. That''s for a very simple reason: my parents don''t care what I do as long as my chores get done and I don''t get into trouble. At the end of the day, I''m always fed and fine, so there''s no reason for Aunt Rachel to try and make all these changes just for her.

    This is how things have been even before Connor and I became friends and his dad started buying my groceries when my parents randomly vanished. It''s the whole reason I know the combination to my parents'' safe. If things really get bad on the food front, I just open it up and take some cash to get groceries. Heck, that''s what I was doing before I started taking on jobs to earn my own money.

    Sure, my parents get mad at me when I do that, but at least I got fed. I''ve never needed to go to the hospital (for my own injuries), never been kidnapped, nothing like that. There''s literally nothing wrong with how things are.

    Things could be better, but all of the boxes are checked. I''m clothed, I''m fed, I have a comfy bed, and my grades are good when school''s in session. My parents don''t abuse me, either, and I''m happy.

    Except when stuff like this happens. So I''m not giving up. Aunt Rachel can deal with me not changing just because she wants me to. Being an adult doesn''t mean she''s right or can boss me around.

    Almost two minutes pass before Aunt Rachel lets out a heavy sigh.

    "Let me know as soon as you know the answers," she tells me. "And where''s your shirt?"

    "In my backpack," I roll my eyes. "It''s summer. When have you seen me come home with my shirt not either in it or slung over my shoulder when it''s warm? I decided I''m going to just skip the ''putting it on'' step unless I need to for something, like going in somewhere that requires one. It''s fantastic outside! Bye!"

    I don''t let her say anything else before I leave to get my bike. Strangely, Mr. Thompson''s car is in the driveway when I finally reach my house. That''s really weird and gives me a bad feeling about his reason.

    Aunt Rachel called him, didn''t she?

    "Sig," he gets out of his truck.

    "Morning, Mr. Thompson," I make my way to the back yard.

    "Your aunt called me after you left," he follows me to the back.

    "About what?" I ask.

    "Your attitude," he says. "She says you blew up at her?"

    "She''s making me stay with her," I tell him as I unlock the back door so I can retrieve my helmet. "Instead of just letting me do what I always do. My parents didn''t tell me to stay with her, my parents didn''t put her in charge of me. She''s just decided it. They don''t have an issue with how things are and I don''t like that Aunt Rachel is forcing me to stay with her. And she''s got all these extra rules she''s forcing on me, too. Like, how am I supposed to know where I''m going and who I''m hanging out with when I leave before literally any of my friends are awake? Except Xander, but he''s got his own stuff to do."

    We all send ''good morning'' pictures in the group chat and Xander sent his first one today¡­ though it wasn''t of him but of his stuffed animals. I''m pretty sure they''re growing in number. The picture taken was really good, too. No blurriness at all.

    Which has me thinking that it might have actually been him just being happy at taking a good picture for once and wanting to show it off. It was a pretty cool picture.

    "She is in charge of you right now," Mr. Thompson says as I grab my helmet.

    "She''s putting herself in charge of me," I say as I turn around to leave again. "And going against what my parents do to do so. If my parents wanted someone to supervise me while they''re on their vacations, they''d arrange that. And Aunt Rachel can''t just decide to force all these new rules and stuff on me just because she wants to."

    "Sig-" he begins.

    "I''m not done."

    I lock the door and stomp over to my bike as I pull on my helmet before unlocking my bike and wheeling it to the front, making sure to lock the gate to the yard as well. Then, look at Mr. Thompson again. He''s got a disapproving look on his face, but I''m not the one interrupting someone who''s trying to explain things, and I''m not the one scolding someone for not being happy that someone is forcing her control over him.

    "You''re like a second dad to me, Mr. Thompson," I say. "But you''re not my dad. Nothing you say is going to change the fact that my parents don''t care what I do or who I''m with as long as I''m not getting arrested. Aunt Rachel can''t just show up, go ''I''m concerned about you'' and suddenly start forcing all of these new rules on me just because. I''ve done just fine for years before you became involved in my life, and I''m doing even better now as I get older. That''s that and you can''t change it!"

    I get on my bike and take off, ignoring Mr. Thompson calling after me. Why are all of the adults in my life getting so mean lately? Aunt Rachel is trying to force all of these extra rules on me and Mr. Thompson''s siding with her! Why can''t anyone understand that my parents have their way of parenting and others can''t just come in and boss me around without my parents'' say?

    After I ride my bike for a little bit, I stop so I can turn off my phone since I can''t bother remembering how to turn off the friend tracker thing, then I just ride for awhile. Eventually, I come to the ruins of Nine Springs.

    It was a large village/small town of about 14,000 people until around sixteen years ago. The game I played yesterday, Duty of Loyalty, has some grounding in reality. Portals sometimes do open up, except they don''t cause monsters to form. Instead, they release monsters into the world before closing back up.

    They''re pretty rare and can usually be handled fine by local enforcement and mages. There might occasionally be loss of life, but it''s rarely too big and the area can be moved back into soon after.

    Nine Springs'' portal opened up right in the center of the town, which was pretty spread out due to having a lot of farms in it. The central areas had more businesses and stuff but there were also a lot of wheat and potato fields.

    They also didn''t have enough mages of their own to deal with the portal and their police force was inadequate. The initial rush wiped out most of them and a significant portion of the population before reinforcements could arrive.

    According to our history classes in school, the portal unleashed a really strong monster, a semi-elemental type in the form of a salamander made of stone. It was about thirty feet tall and while it caused less destruction than other monsters¡­ more effort had to be focused on it.

    The Gates were the ones who finally killed it and both Tristan and Melody Gates had to work together to take it down and it nearly wiped out all of their mana. That''s how powerful the monster was. Other mages and even members of the magic special forces had to deal with the rest of the invading beasts.

    Areas near the border of Dragon Falls and Hidden River were absorbed into those two towns as they were largely unaffected other than the rest of their town kind of being gone.

    What remains now is basically uninhabited playgrounds for teens and tweens. There might sometimes be a random monster showing up since the western and southern edges of the former town entirely border the wilderness and the northern edge partially does. Those are easy to deal with since I just have to go somewhere else and they''ll eventually leave on their own.

    This is somewhere I don''t normally come on my own, but that''s the exact reason I came here rather than the park or rec center or something. Even if it means I''m a bit hungry since I won''t be getting a proper breakfast, but at least I have snacks in my backpack.

    If I went somewhere I normally go when I want to hang out with people, then my friends will probably find me at one of them. Their dads would then try to restart the conversation Mr. Thompson was having with me. That''s annoying and I don''t want that because it''s stupid.

    My parents don''t care so why should other adults who don''t have that authority over me try to force it onto me?

    I shake my head to try and get rid of those thoughts. The whole reason for coming out this way was to try to clear my head and not get angry but I''m only getting more worked up. Maybe I should have gone somewhere I knew I''d be able to find someone to play with instead, even if it meant a higher chance of getting found by the dads.

    Riding my bike on the old road is a little bumpy due to the gaps and cracks that have formed, but that makes it a little bit more fun for me to try and navigate. Just as I start to near my destination of the old park for Nine Springs, a voice calls out.

    "HEY! S.G.!"

    I quickly stop my bike and turn to face the guy who shouted out to me. He''s about a year older than me and is wearing shorts and sneakers, his body toned and tanned from a lot of time in the sun, just like me. His time spent in the sun is for a little bit of a different reason, though.

    Tate lives on a magic cattle ranch a little bit northwest of here and is kind of one of the reasons ¨C other than wanting to shoot lightning like Lucas Gates ¨C that I wanted to learn magic. He has curly brown hair that''s tinted gold from time in the sun and blue eyes as clear as the sky.

    With him is Carter, another kid in the grade above, though I think he doesn''t turn fourteen until next month. His brown hair''s tinted gold from the sun and his eyes are a nice shade of green. Just like Tate, he''s lean and toned and has a tan from playing in the sun and working on his family''s ranch ¨C though he''s from a flaremane horse ranch rather than a magic cattle ranch. Like Tate and me, he''s in just a pair of shorts and some sneakers right now.

    The summer sun feels really nice today.

    Both of them are wearing green baseball caps right now, though Tate''s is a tad bit more faded than Carter''s.

    "Hey, Tate! Carter!"

    I hop off my bike and walk it over to them.

    "What''s going on?" Tate asks as we all bump fists.

    "Was heading to the park here," I answer. "You guys?"

    "Dad came down to drop off some meat and hides," Tate answers. "We finished up a little bit ago, then he dropped us off to look for a good spot for Carter to do some stuff while he went to get us breakfast."

    "Do stuff?" I ask.

    "Yeah!" Carter says. "We haven''t seen each other since the epic snowball fight back in February so you wouldn''t know yet since you don''t watch a lot of stuff online. I started streaming and uploading videos, and some of it is me doing freerunning! Parkour with flair."

    "Oh, neat!" I say. "Can I see?"

    "Sure," he pulls out his phone and calls up his channel to show me one of his videos.

    In the video, he''s standing in a semi-decrepit part of a town, dressed in grey-and-blue sneakers, grey shorts, and a grey-and-blue sleeveless shirt.

    "Hi, everybody!" Carter waves to the camera. "Carter, back for another ep.! I''m in Autumn Vale right now in a section that''s been semi-abandoned for awhile. Dream Best Entertainment has spent the last several years buying up the abandoned buildings and even the streets, and they own this whole section. That means this area is probably going to get torn down and something new put in place and considering the company, probably something fun!

    "That doesn''t mean it''s okay to just come on out and do your thing, though," he says as the camera shifts to show his dad for a moment. "Always be safe, folks! And we actually have permission from DBE to be here and do this, too! It is private property and here on this channel, we don''t trespass so you don''t do it, either!"

    Carter gives me a nod when I look at him, and my attention goes back to the video.

    "Today," he says. "Tate and I looked around for a bit and we saw a few good spots for some running and tricks! I''ve already tested them to make sure they can handle it, so let''s go!"

    Carter takes off running, soon jumping up onto the trunk of a car, then onto its roof, then jumping from there to grab onto a banner bar on a streetlamp. He swings forward once and lets go, doing a flip before landing on the ledge of a windowsill for a building, his balance perfect.

    The video''s about twenty minutes long, and Carter keeps managing jumps and flips that seem insane to me ¨C and landings which look even more insane. How does he land so well on such thin spaces? What''s the most amazing part of this is that Carter doesn''t stop. The entire video is just one straight filming session, no cuts. It was probably Tate handling it ¨C he knows how to fly and float and so can keep up with someone running, jumping, kicking, and flipping around buildings and stuff.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    "Do you always scout out first?" I ask once Carter stops the video at what''s probably the sign-off.

    "No," he answers. "If it''s a more run-down area like here, we definitely check to make sure it''s safe. And DBE had actually reached out to me about that place and asked if I wanted to do a video there! That was just last week I did it!"

    "Companies ask you to do stuff?"

    "It was my first time!" Carter nods in excitement. "And it''s a sponsored video! I didn''t have to shill their brand or anything, just mention it was their space and I had permission, and use it for the full video which had to be at least fifteen minutes long ¨C not that my videos are ever any shorter when I do running."

    "Sponsored?" I ask. "What does that mean? Isn''t sponsoring where you advertise someone, like at sports games? They pay the stadium or arena or whatever a big chunk of change and get a big sign with their company name on it there?"

    "Streamers and uploaders can get sponsored videos, too," Carter informs me. "Companies reach out and offer us a contract that includes stuff like shilling their merch or services, having a product placed in view, or whatever. DBE just wanted me to mention them at some point. You probably missed it, but when we do a sponsored video, there''s a flag at the start of it that mentions it contains sponsored content, and there''s a site-generated flag beneath the video."

    "So you got paid just for mentioning them?" I ask. "Seriously?"

    "Yup!" He grins. "It wasn''t a whole lot. Content creation in North America is focused on real-life stuff like freerunning, trickshots, magic, and games like paintball or laser tag, so the market is semi-saturated. That''s also my market since, y''know, I don''t speak other languages and I do a lot of physical stuff."

    "There are a lot of people doing it?" I ask.

    "Not a massive amount," he says. "But when that''s most of the streaming market for an area, there''s a lot to choose from. I''m doing pretty well, though ¨C I only started back in April and already have seven thousand subscribers and get about two thousand views in the first week of a video! I''m hoping to be able to get advertising ¨C I''m sure you watch some videos. Monetization will let me get some of the ad revenue. For that, I need at least five thousand subs and fifteen hundred watch hours in a year. I''m at over ten thousand watch hours!"

    "SERIOUSLY?"

    "Seriously!"

    That is insane! He''s only been doing it for two months and he''s already gotten a ton of views and time watched! I might not know much about streaming and uploading, but I''m sure they wouldn''t set the monetization threshold to something that''s too low for money to be made off of it. Carter''s really blowing up!

    "That video was from two weeks ago," he puts his phone back into his pocket. "They put in high fences with visual barriers right after I filmed it, so you can''t get into the area. I''m not really sure, but I do know they have construction equipment in there now, which is why I definitely think they''re tearing it down."

    "What''s the company do?" I ask. "I''ve never heard of them before."

    "They actually build play spaces and rent them out," he answers. "So different groups come in and use them. They have some obstacle course areas, and an area used for laser tag and paintball. They bought up a larger area for that project so I''m not sure what they''re doing this time. Plus, I know they''re pretty low on money. The project is probably going to eat up most of their funds. That''s probably why they went with someone smaller. I only got about $40 from it. But hey ¨C forty bucks is forty bucks!"

    "Isn''t that, like, nothing compared to what you get helping out on your family''s ranch?" I ask.

    Magic beast ranches are far more profitable than non-magic beast ranches, partially because of the difficulty in actually raising said beasts and partially because of the market demand for the products they produce. His ranch mostly does trail rides and stuff, but they still earn a lot of money from people wanting to ride magic horses.

    "Well, yeah," he says. "The trail rides earn me a decent bit in tips. But this is money that''s mine from something not related to my family!"

    "Oh! That''s right!" I exclaim. "That''s pretty cool! I hope you get a lot of good luck!"

    "Thanks!" He says.

    "So are you looking for a place right now?" I ask. "You said you''re wanting to do a recording."

    "Yeah," he nods. "I think we found a spot shortly after Mr. Cox left. We''re just waiting for him to get back now."

    "He should be almost here," Tate says, then looks down the street. "There he is!"

    We all look over to see a black pickup truck driving down it. The refrigerated trailer thing isn''t attached to the back like it would be if this was a meat delivery like Tate said.

    "Hey, Dad!" Tate exclaims when his dad exits the truck, dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, and a red button-up. "Where''s the trailer?"

    "Ran into Carter''s dad, actually," Mr. Cox says. "He was surprised to find that we were down here. Told him what we were doing and he offered to take the trailer back for me.

    "Was Mom there?" Carter asks.

    "She was," Mr. Cox tells him. "She said to let you know that she''s going on a girls'' trip for the weekend with your aunt and cousin. That''s why they were down here, actually ¨C your dad was dropping her off at your aunt''s house so they could leave for it. They were getting breakfast for the ladies and himself when I ran into them."

    "Cool!"

    Carter''s parents are a lot more involved in his life than my parents are in mine and they had no idea where he was.

    "And hello again to you," Mr. Cox looks at me. "It''s¡­ S.G. now, right?"

    "Yup!" I answer. "Hello, Mr. Cox!"

    "Now I see why you wanted me to grab extra breakfast stuff," he ruffles his son''s hair. "Did you boys find a place yet?"

    "We did!" Carter answer.

    "Alright," Mr. Cox says. "Lead the way. We can eat once we get there, then test to make sure it''s safe for you to play on. S.G., if you want, you can put your bike in the bed of the truck."

    I do that, and us boys ride in the back of it with Tate using the window in the back of the cab to let his dad know where to go. We arrive in a spot with a higher amount of buildings and stuff, then hop out of the truck. Mr. Cox brings out boxes of donuts and jugs of juice and milk, and we help carry them over to some boulders.

    Considering that there are boulders breaking up the roads and buildings, these were probably created by the monsters. Now, they provide a bit of a playground for kids.

    Or a perfect place to eat.

    "It''s been awhile since you last came out and rode ATVs with us," Tate says as we eat breakfast. "Got any idea when you can do that again?"

    Of course it''s been awhile, considering we only see each other a few times a year at most. One of those hangouts a year is me heading up to their ranches.

    It''s one of the very few times I actually have to talk to my parents before going somewhere, just because of how far away he lives and the fact that we don''t know his parents that well. If even I had known his parents as well as I do my friends'', I wouldn''t have had to ask my parents despite them not having ever met them.

    When I asked my parents for the last visit, their exact response was "Go ahead, we don''t care. Just don''t get arrested or end up in the hospital, understand?" They didn''t even ask to meet his parents again, just agreed to it the moment I asked.

    Situations like that ¨C where I have to actually ask ¨C are so few and far between that it might as well never happen. That was more than a year ago and it''s not happened again since. The dads can take me camping or wherever they want without me needing to get permission just because I know them pretty well.

    "I''d like to go again sometime," I say. "That was freaking amazing! But I''d have to ask my parents again and they''re on vacation, so I won''t know when a good time for it would be until they get back."

    "Aw," he says.

    "How''re things with your parents?" Mr. Cox asks. "You said they''re on vacation?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "They went up to Niagara Falls for their annual trip there. They left a day early, so they''ll probably be gone for a week or two rather than just the weekend."

    "Did they make sure you have food?" He asks.

    "Nah," I answer. "But it''s not a problem. I make money on my own and can buy groceries, and my parents pay me back some of it. I do buy a lot of junk food, too, so they''re not gonna pay it all back. And if I don''t have money, I can just take it from my parents'' safe to buy stuff. I''ll get into trouble, but considering I buy a lot of junk food, it''s understandable they''d ground me for a few days.

    "The real issue," I decide to complain a little because the need for venting is just too strong. "Is my aunt. She''s moved into the area and is being a pain. My parents'' only rules are: get good grades, do my chores, don''t break the law, and don''t need to go to the hospital. As long as it fits within those rules, I can do anything I want and don''t need to tell them anything."

    "And your aunt disagrees?"

    "She''s forcing me to stay with her while my parents are on their vacation," I tell him. "And is putting in all these extra rules. I can''t go anywhere without telling her where I''m going, who I''m going to be with, and when I expect to be back by. My parents didn''t put her in charge of me and they don''t have those rules. It''s just something my aunt decided on her own."

    "I take it you two have been arguing about this?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "My best friend''s dad apparently told her about my parents leaving for vacation last month and when they extended it, she came down here. Turns out she was planning on moving here anyway, she just came earlier because my parents extended their trip. And she kept pushing those rules on me and now she''s got her own house. And it''s like I said ¨C she''s making me stay with her while they''re gone again and is forcing those rules on me. My parents don''t care. They know I''m fine.

    "We got into a big fight this morning," I say. "Then she called my best friend''s dad and told him stuff and he ambushed me and started trying to scold me but it''s like¡­ she''s not my boss? She can''t just decide she''s in charge, that''s my parents'' job. It''s so suffocating, not being able to just do what I normally do! And he''s a second dad to me, but he''s not my real dad and I wasn''t doing anything wrong, so I told him that and left. He''s probably pretty mad at me, but he can''t just ambush me at my house and tell me I need to listen to someone who isn''t actually my boss. Being an adult or an aunt doesn''t automatically make you someone''s boss!"

    Mr. Cox doesn''t respond at first, and Tate and Carter both look a little uncomfortable. Me ranting like this might end what small bit of friendship we have. Sure, I''ve gone to their ranches once a summer the past six summers, but that''s not us being close or anything. We barely see each other ever and so I''m probably not someone they''re comfortable having vent to them or their dads or whatever.

    I''ll be really upset if I can''t hang out with them anymore, but I''m sure I''ll get over it quickly.

    "S.G.," Mr. Cox finally breaks the silence while I stuff my mouth full of donut. "I think I understand both sides of the issue here."

    "What does that mean?" I ask after swallowing my food.

    "Your aunt is worried about your safety," he says. "But you''re used to having free rein to do essentially anything you want. If your parents put those rules in place, would you obey them?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "But I wouldn''t be happy with it. They''ve never done it before, so why would they suddenly start caring about that sort of thing? Aunt Rachel claims it''s because it makes her feel better and like I''m safe. Like, my parents don''t care. They know I''m safe. Heck, the closest I ever came to being sent to the hospital was literally at one of my friends'' houses. With his dad there. We did have to go, but I wasn''t one of the ones who got a mixture of pickle juice and hot sauce in his eyes. My body''s tough as golem!"

    I pound a fist into my stomach a couple of times to emphasize that.

    "I know I don''t have much influence in your life," Mr. Cox says. "But I hope you''ll listen to what I have to say, okay?"

    "You''re going to tell me to listen to my aunt, aren''t you?"

    "Can you agree to listen to what I have to say?" He asks. "If you promise that, then I''ll let you hang out with Tate and Carter today, okay?"

    That''s not very fair but there''s no way I could stop him from that. He''d probably make them leave if I refuse to and then they''d just get mad at me. It wouldn''t be a big loss considering how rarely we see each other, but I don''t like losing even very slight friends once I make them. Plus, I actually look forward to the chance of visiting the ranches each year.

    "Fiiiiiiine."

    "Do you remember when we first brought you out to the ranch?" He asks.

    "That''s one of the few things from when I was younger that I remember clearly!" I tell him. "So much good food!"

    "We''d run into you at the park a few times," he says. "Hadn''t ever seen your parents. When you were seven, however, you''d mentioned being hungry but there not being food at home. That concerned us since you were pretty skinny, and we''d already been feeling something was off."

    "What do you mean?" I ask. "And why did it concern you?"

    "Hold on," he says. "So we tried to get you to take us to your parents, and that was when we learned they weren''t even there. We had to bribe you into taking us to your home so we could meet them, which was problematic on its own. A seven-year-old shouldn''t be bringing strangers home."

    "But my parents were there, so it was fine."

    "Not really," he says. "It can be dangerous to do that, even in an area as safe as here. But that''s not the point. When we go there, we learned your parents were preparing to go on a vacation, yet they were barely feeding you. The math on the funds didn''t add up, there. We asked about taking you to the ranches and two things rang alarm bells in our head."

    "Alarm bells?" I ask. "Why?"

    "First," he says. "They agreed despite having just met us. Second, they mentioned ''it would probably be more fun for you'' and they were planning on leaving you home alone. A seven-year-old shouldn''t be home alone for that long for safety reasons."

    I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up a hand.

    "Hold on, S.G.," he says. "We were worried about your safety, which is why we took you to the ranch for a week after your parents agreed. There''s more, but I won''t get into that. Now, we were essentially strangers who had these concerns about your safety. Your aunt knows you better than we do, right?"

    "Yeah."

    "She''ll have probably noticed a lot more," he says. "And may have even been told about stuff by your friends'' dads. You mentioned that she''d ''told on you to them'', which suggests they talk."

    I''m about to contest that, but then realize he''s right. Aunt Rachel mentioned she moved down here sooner than she intended after learning my parents had just up and left and then only bought me milk, potatoes, and ramen when they extended the trip. Mr. Thomspon had told her. She was worried about my food even though I really would have been fine just because she didn''t know for sure.

    That doesn''t make me happy with how she''s acting, though.

    "It can be hard for parents and other relatives," Mr. Cox says. "To see that someone can handle themselves, especially in a situation like this. And I''m sure she cares for you. She''s probably stressing out a lot over your safety when your parents are gone and at least knowing your plans will help alleviate it for her. She wants to make sure you''re taken care of, just as we wanted to."

    "But I am taken care of," I say.

    "By your standards, sure," he says. "This is what''s normal to you. That can make it difficult to tell the difference between what''s right and not. I''m just an outsider here, so I can''t say things for sure. But your aunt is in a better position, and she''s worried about you. Would it be so bad to let her know your plans when you know them, just while your parents are gone? To ease her mind?"

    This really annoys me, but at the same time, I guess he''s kind of right about telling her. It''s not like I''m not allowed to go out, I just have to let her know. There was also that time that she went off on my parents for not being the ones buying me proper food.

    She does care and worry, I just don''t like her doing this, I guess. It feels suffocating to me, but she''s not stopping me from going out.

    "I guess not¡­"

    "Why don''t you call her and let her know you''re safe," Mr. Cox asks. "She might be freaking out, based on what you told me happened earlier."

    Unhappy as I am with it, I get up and walk away from them to call my aunt. The moment my phone connects back to service after I turn it on, I''m flooded with notifications about missed calls, voicemails, and texts. Sheesh! People can''t let me be moody in peace!

    I ignore all of them and call Aunt Rachel.

    "Bas?" Her voice is filled with panic and worry, and that makes me feel a little bit guilty, though I''m still really upset. "Are you okay? Are you safe? Did something happen? Your phone''s been off for over an hour and no one knows where you are and you''re not anywhere anyone could think of and-"

    "I''m fine!" I interrupt her. "I wanted to be alone after you sicced Mr. Thompson on me, so I turned off my phone on purpose so they couldn''t locate me. I''m in Nine Springs right now and came across some boys I hang out with whenever I see them. Mom and Dad have met their parents and I''ve been to their families'' ranches a few times. And no, I still don''t know when I''ll be back, because I never do unless an actual plan for that is made."

    "We''re going to talk when you come back home, okay, Bas?" She still sounds panicked and has even forgotten that I don''t go by that anymore. "You''re not in trouble, and I''m sorry for pushing this on you. I want to talk with you about it some more when you get back, okay? I''m going to head to the store to get some apples so I can make apie for us to talk over. You still like those, don''t you?"

    The apple pie thing is something she came up with four or five years ago and probably thinks I don''t remember. She knows I''m basically always down for some pie. Apple pie is one I''ll eat, but it''s not like I love it or hate it. That''s why she picked it ¨C if I agree to it, then she knows something''s wrong.

    If whoever kidnapped or whatever studied me first, they''d see that I eat it and so wouldn''t think anything of me agreeing to it and not know it''s a code. If I ask about changing it to something I hate, then she''ll know something is very, very, very wrong and it''s an emergency. Bringing up ice cream on my own is how she knows I''m safe regardless of any other response.

    She probably thinks I forgot yet is still doing this, just in case. She must really be worried and probably thinks something bad really did happen.

    "Um¡­ you saw how many bananas my parents bought before their trip, right?" I ask. "Can we do banana cream pie instead? And I''ve got money, so I can get ice cream on the way back. Do you still like cookies-and-cream ice cream? Wait. Ice cream with a cold pie, um¡­ I guess a berry pie instead? Can we do that?"

    "We can do both," she sounds extremely relieved and the guilt I feel increases more. She really was super worried about me. "You''re an active teen boy, you''re eating a lot of food anyway. You might eat both in just a few days."

    "Maybe," I say. "And, um¡­ I''ll try to be back before dinner, okay?"

    "Okay," she says. "See you then, Bas."

    "You, too, Aunt Rachel," I say.

    "Be safe, Bas," she says. "I love you."

    "Love you," I say. "Bye."

    "Bye."

    Once the call ends, I call up the group chat and send a quick message. They''re all freaking out in chat now that I''m back online and it looks like they''ve all already looked at my location and are saying they''re asking their dads to take them out here or let them come out.

    I''d normally be happy that everyone wants to make sure I''m safe, but this is ridiculous. It''s not the first time I''ve left them all while upset to get myself some time away. Well, all of them except Xander are flooding the chat, but he may not have even checked his phone since he woke up and sent that pic. That''s the sort of thing he does.

    [Sig]: Please don''t come out here, I''m fine

    [Sig]: I already talked to Aunt Rachel, too

    They''re all pretty reluctant, but they agree not to come out. I''m grateful that none of my friends are the pushy sort who''d just ignore me trying to set a boundary. I don''t want to be with any of them right now and even though they''re worried because I ran off¡­ they''ll at least check with their dads to make sure it''s really okay to listen when I say to leave me be. And their dads will probably talk to Aunt Rachel, so things should be fine.

    I pocket my phone and return to Tate, Carter, and Mr. Cox.

    "Can I have another donut, please?" I ask. "I know I wasn''t expected, but-"

    "No worries!" Tate says. "I texted Dad and let him know you were here when he was out, and he hadn''t gotten stuff yet so he got extra for you! Besides, he got food for mages, so there''s always extra."

    "Cool!" I say. "Thanks!"

 Chapter 0052

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    I stab the bed of the rusted-out truck with a very thick stick, then jab another part with it. This is a little bit fun and I do it until I''ve attacked the entire bed. Once I finish that, I whack the top of the cab a few times. I then jump on the bed a few times before jumping up onto the roof and testing its ability to hold my weight.

    "This one seems good!" I call to Carter.

    "Cool!" He says from where he''s watching Tate, who''s hanging from a ledge. "I think that''s everything. Right, Mr. Cox?"

    We''re checking sturdiness of things right now. Since Tate can use float magics, he''s keeping it ready for activation at all times while checking to see if different surfaces and ledges are safe for grabbing. That way, if they break under his weight or when he lands on them, he can trigger the spell and immediately begin floating rather than falling and getting hurt.

    It''s only been about forty-five minutes or so since we started and we''ve still got quite a bit more to check. Even though the videos are around fifteen to twenty-five minutes in length, they apparently usually spend at least an hour to an hour and a half checking to make sure things are safe when doing freerunning videos in places like this.

    Which I think is really cool, even if a bit boring. They''re wanting to have fun but not risk hurting themselves too much. Our types of fun are a little bit different, but I always try to make sure I''m safe, too.

    I hop out of the bed of the truck and go to pick up my whacking stick when I notice another truck¡­ this one driving toward us over the uneven road.

    It''s Mr. Michaels''s truck.

    Great. He came out here when I wanted to be away from everyone for a little bit. Except it looks like there are more in there than just him?

    Wait. All three dads are in the truck, and I think Aunt Rachel is, too. This is stupid! Why can''t I just hang out with other people? Is this about me getting mad at Mr. Thompson for overstepping his authority on me? Because he''s not my boss for stuff unrelated to me hanging out at his place or when he takes me places! Him being an adult doesn''t grant him universal authority rights over kids! Aunt Rachel and I were going to talk this evening, too!

    There''s another truck behind that I''m unfamiliar with and when both trucks stop, everyone gets out. The back truck has four men that I don''t recognize in it and that makes me really nervous.

    "This is excessive!" I tell Aunt Rachel. "I told you I''ll be home later, and you agreed! And-"

    "Bas," she interrupts me.

    "No!" I say. "I need to say it! You can''t-"

    "Bas!" She runs over and grabs me, pulling me into a hug, causing my next words to get muffled.

    I start whacking her with the stick in my hand. Not hard, just enough to let her know to stop. She still takes a few moments to do so while the dads and other men approach more slowly.

    "Rachel," Mr. Thompson says.

    "Right," she lets go of me. "Can you go to the trucks, Bas?"

    "No."

    "Bas," she puts a hand on the back of my head and rubs it a little. "Just for a minute. We need to talk with him," she indicates Mr. Cox. "For a minute and-"

    "That''s not going to work," Mr. Thompson says. "I can see it on his face. Sig, if you don''t listen to us, you won''t be allowed to hang out with our sons for the rest of the summer."

    "What?" I ask. "That''s not fair! I''m allowed to come out here and play and-"

    "Now," he says very firmly.

    "You''re not my dad!"

    I stomp over to the truck and slam myself against it as I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the dads. Mr. Thompson looks at Mr. Michaels and gives a small nod and a slight jerk of his head in my direction. They''re being jerks for no reason! What is wrong with them?

    Mr. Michaels does the head-jerk thing to one of the men I don''t know, and the two of them walk over to me while the other three men I don''t know, the other two dads, and Aunt Rachel approach Mr. Cox. Tate and Carter are told to step away ¨C but not come over to me ¨C and that just makes me even madder. I can''t even hang out with my friends for some stupid reason!

    "Sig," Mr. Michaels says. "This is William, he works at the same hospital I''m based out of."

    "I''m not hurt!" I say. "I was doing just fine until you showed up!"

    "I''m not that type of doctor," Mr. William tells me. "I''m more of a specialist examiner."

    "So?"

    "You told your aunt-" Mr. Michaels begins.

    "That I would be home by dinner!" I snap. "And I made sure she knew I was fine!"

    "Sig," he says. "I understand your upset, but you need to let me explain things. If you don''t listen, hangouts are banned. This is a very serious matter."

    I glare at him more.

    "You told your aunt that you were hanging out with some boys from ranches," he says. "And that you''ve been up there before. None of us have ever heard of rancher boys you''ve hung out with before-"

    "I can have friends who aren''t your kids, you know!"

    "Yes, I do," he says. "However, that immediately concerned us because we know all of the ranching families around here. We''d have known if it was any of them. We asked our sons, and they told us they''ve never heard of these other boys."

    "So you think they don''t exist?" I ask. "What, that I''m hallucinating? He a psychologist, then? I''m not hallucinating, you can see them right there!"

    I gesture to Tate and Carter, who are looking pretty nervous. Mr. Michaels lets out a big sigh.

    "Your aunt contacted your parents-"

    "What, so now I''m getting grounded because you guys can''t understand that I WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE RIGHT NOW!"

    "Sig," he says. "I understand that you''re upset right now, but please listen to what I''m saying."

    "No!"

    "So you don''t want to hang out with Connor, Sam, and Isaac again until school starts?"

    I glare at him.

    "They confirmed that you''ve gone to the ranches before," he says. "They weren''t sure how often or for how long-"

    "Once a summer for the past six summers," I tell him. "For a week at first, but only a day the last three times because of hanging out with Connor and his dad all summer. I did like going for a week. And this whole thing is so stupid! Why are you guys doing this? Why can''t I just hang out with my other friends without you all coming here and getting in everyone''s faces? You''re all being jerks and I hate you! Just leave me alone!"

    Mr. Michaels lets out a heavy sigh again as he grabs my arm to prevent me from stomping off.

    "Sig," his grip is too tight for me to break free. "We looked up the ranches. Mr. Cox ¨C we know that''s him from the picture on his ranch''s website ¨C runs a mindwave cattle ranch. Ranchers tend to need to know magics which can help them deal with their animals."

    "Yeah," I glare at him some more. My arm hurts from trying to break free and he''s still not let go "They know mind magics because their cattle can emit bursts of mental energy that can hurt you when they get stressed. It''s just mind barriers, though. Tate knows how to do float magics, too, but that was just for fun."

    "Right," he says. "But if they know one magic in a school of it, they might know others."

    "You mean like telepathy?" I ask. "Yeah! Tate knows that, too. Last time we talked about it, Carter ¨C that''s the other kid ¨C was bummed about not being able to do it. Mind magics are apparently really difficult to learn if you don''t have an affinity for it. More so than normal for magics you don''t have affinities for. I don''t see why that means you have to come out with a bunch of random people or hurt me for not wanting to listen to you"

    He''s taking forever to get to the point, but at least he lets go of my arm. The look he gives me warns me that he''ll grab me again if I try to leave, so I glare at him again while crossing my arms over my chest.

    "You tend to talk about who you hang out with with our sons," Mr. Michaels tells me. "And yet you''ve never mentioned these two before. Your parents have mentioned that you ask permission at least once a year to go to their ranches ¨C I was going to say that before you interrupted me ¨C but that they have only met their parents during the pickups and dropoffs."

    "So?" I ask.

    "So," he emphasizes that word. "Putting all of this information together, we became concerned that they might have used mind magics on you to keep you quiet."

    "What?" I jerk my head back, only to whack it against the truck since I''m still right beside it. "That''s ridiculous!"

    "It might be," he says. "But we wanted to make sure you''re safe, Sig. William here is a mind examiner. He''s the only specialist in the area who can check a person''s mind to see if they''ve been influenced by mind magics. He won''t read your memories or thoughts, but we want him to check to see if there is magic influencing your mind."

    "Well, they didn''t use anything, so no!"

    "Sig," Mr. Michaels says. "Mind magic can be used to make someone not realize it''s been used. To erase or hide memories."

    "Did my parents approve of you wanting to do an exam?"

    "They don''t need to," he grabs my arm to stop me from leaving.

    "Uh¡­ yes, they do," I try to pull free again but he doesn''t let me. "You need the consent of my legal guardians to do any form of exam on me. You can''t just show up and being a jerkwad, Mr. Michaels! Doing exams without legal permission is illegal, especially when it''s invading a kid''s mind! When the police-"

    "When you first started hanging out with Connor," he says. "And wanted to go on the camping trips with him that his father took him on, Mr. Thompson spoke with your parents. He wasn''t aware of the full extent of things yet, but he''s a mandatory reporter. And your food situation alone is enough to warrant a call to CPS, but there are a few other things."

    "My parents aren''t abusing me," I say.

    "Sig," he says. "The only reason Mr. Thompson hasn''t made that call is because he convinced your parents to give him some legal authority. You were pretty happy and were generally taken care of and he wasn''t fully aware of the extent of things. That authority he convinced them to give him doesn''t make him your legal guardian or anything like that, but it means he''s allowed to take you out of the area without having to speak with your parents and get their permission. He''s also able to authorize medical procedures for you. That includes things like having you checked to make sure your mind hasn''t been messed with by a mind mage."

    I''m not sure if he''s being honest or not, but if something like that is possible, then it does sound like something Mr. Thompson would do. He''s not my dad, but he does like making sure I''m taken care of and treats me like he''s my dad.

    "He can do that?"

    "He made sure to get that because he was worried about something happening on camping trips," he tells me. "And had a feeling he''d be taking you a lot of places and seeing you a lot. Felt it would be simpler to get semi-permanent authority on that to make things easier. He''s never had to use said authority for authorizing medical procedures before, but this is a special case. We''re all really concerned that something is happening that even you aren''t aware of."

    That''s why they brought out so many people. They''re worried my memories were erased. But the dads aren''t mages, they''re not even normal fighters. They couldn''t do anything¡­ these other men can, can''t they? If they looked up the ranches, they''d know that even the kids grow up learning magic, I''m sure. So they brought in reinforcements ¨C and arranging that is what took so long to get out here, rather than just, like, twenty minutes.

    No wonder Mr. Michaels is being so mean right now, he''s trying to make sure my mind isn''t being controlled by someone else and he can''t do that if I leave. I''m still mad and upset with him and the others, but I guess it''s okay to stay for now.

    "I don''t want someone going through my mind¡­"

    "I know," Mr. Michaels says. "It''s just to make sure you''re not being hurt and having the memories erased or sealed. William doesn''t need to look at your memories, and he won''t hear your thoughts. And your own consent on this doesn''t matter. It''s an emergency check being performed by someone with authority to authorize it."

    They don''t need me to agree¡­ I look at Mr. William.

    "I''ve already finished," he says, then looks at Mr. Michaels. "His memories are all his. No traces of being edited, and I couldn''t sense any trace of memories missing from something other than natural forgetting. Nothing was sealed. No binds or controls put in place. That said, he''s extremely agitated right now-"

    "Damn right I am!" I say. "You can''t just go in my mind without permission!"

    "He had permission," Mr. Michaels says.

    "Not mine!"

    "You seem to be misunderstanding something," Mr. Michaels says. "He didn''t need your permission. This was an emergency check to make sure you weren''t under someone else''s control, with authorization granted by someone with the power to do so."

    "Yeah, well-"

    "Sebastian Greyson Bellman," his voice is extremely stern, and I shrink back a little. "Stop interrupting me. Look at it from our perspective: this kid we think of as our son suddenly reveals that he''s had friends for years, friends no one has heard of except his parents. And it turns out that one of these kids is from a family of mind mages. Mind mages are people with power over a person''s mind. And our son-like kid is allowed to hang out with them in a completely different area despite his own parents having only met the parents, not gotten to know them. Does that look good to you?"

    I don''t get why everyone is so hung up on someone needing to know where I''m at or who I''m with, but for the rest of it, I guess I kind of understand him.

    "I guess not¡­"

    "Right," he says. "We''re all just concerned, Sig. We needed to make sure you were okay and not under someone''s control."

    "So you hired someone to invade my mind without asking?"

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "If you were under the influence of mind magic," he says. "Do you really think you''d agree to getting your mind examined for traces of it?"

    Well now I just feel stupid.

    "Oh."

    Mr. Michaels ruffles my hair and pulls me in for a hug. Now that I know what''s really going on, I return the hug. I''m still upset they hired someone to invade my mind, but I now get why they did it. They were all just concerned about me and the situation just looked bad from their perspective, since they didn''t know Mr. Cox or the other boys.

    "Aren''t you concerned about someone trying to use mind magic on them?" I look over at Aunt Rachel and the other dads after the hug ends.

    "See the man with the gun on his hip?" Mr. Michaels asks.

    "Yeah."

    "He''s a mind mage who specializes in shielding," he tells me. "He''s put up a barrier on everyone''s minds, just in case, and will know if something touches it. He put one up on you as soon as you were in range."

    "Isn''t that kind of magic¡­ kind of rare?" I ask. "His services are probably really expensive."

    "Very," Mr. William confirms. "I''m based out of the hospital, while he''s a federal agent, but we travel all over the northwestern US for our work."

    "Mr. Thompson''s a children''s doctor," Mr. Michaels tells me. "Mr. Richardson''s a child psychologist, and I''m a family lawyer. We''ve dealt with a lot of bad cases and know quite a few federal agents, police officers, and more who live in the area. You running off to be alone for a few hours when you get upset isn''t something new and we try to respect your space. You suddenly having friends that no one''s heard of before, one of whom comes from a family of mind mages, was extremely concerning. We called in favors to make sure you''re really safe. The safety code your aunt used means nothing if a mind magic is at play."

    "Because they could use their mind magic to know how to make me respond."

    "Correct," he ruffles my hair again.

    "This isn''t everyone, is it?"

    Mr. Michaels laughs.

    "This isn''t everyone," he says. "The government doesn''t mess around when it comes to people using mind magic to control others, and using it on kids is an even bigger issue. This might be enough for a normal mind mage, except people who work magic beast ranches tend toward being on the stronger side. There are several former or active magic special forces members around."

    It''s pretty cool that I''ve got friends strong enough to warrant MSF soldiers when there''s a safety concern going on. Well, it''s probably mostly Mr. Cox they''re concerned about but children tend to have strength similar to their parents'' at birth. That means that Tate and Carter are pretty strong, too.

    Which I knew, I just didn''t know they were that strong.

    Another thing that''s cool is that the dads were so worried about me that they called in favors from people who worked in magic special forces. I mean, it''s not cool that they were that worried, but it''s cool that they care about me enough that when they get concerned over something like this, they''ll do something like that. My parents would just assume everything is fine and I''ll be home at some point.

    "My parents don''t love me."

    That comes out before the thought really crosses my mind, and Mr. Michaels suddenly doesn''t look comfortable. Why would he look uncomfortable unless my realization is actually true?

    "They¡­ they don''t, do they?" I ask as I feel tears welling up in my eyes. "My parents don''t love me. That''s why they don''t care about what I''m doing, isn''t it? It''s the real reason they never bother planning a vacation I''d enjoy, either, isn''t it? And why they never really pay much attention to food for me but are always eating out for themselves or ordering in for themselves, isn''t it? It''s why I have to buy everything for myself, isn''t it? It''s why they don''t take me clothes shopping unless they absolutely have to despite getting themselves new clothes whenever they want, isn''t it? It''s why I can just disappear for a week and they won''t even notice I''m gone, isn''t it? It''s not that they''re sure I''ll be fine. It''s that t-they don''t love m-me, isn''t it? T-they d-don''t c-care a-about m-me a-at a-all."

    Getting the words out by the end is difficult and I''m stuttering a lot. Tears are freely flowing down my cheeks now, too. I slide down so I''m sitting and pull my knees against my chest as I cry into them. All this time, I thought my parents cared about me and loved me but they really don''t. I just thought my family was different from my friends'' and that''s why things were different, but I was wrong, wasn''t I?

    This isn''t supposed to be normal at all. My parents just don''t care about me, they don''t love me. They probably don''t even want me! That''s why they were okay with me going to a stranger''s ranch. They didn''t really care what happened to me. Maybe they were even hoping that I''d disappear so that they wouldn''t have to take care of me anymore.

    Mr. Thompson sits down next to me and starts rubbing my back. He doesn''t say anything at first, just rubs my back as I cry. That makes me feel a little bit better, and I lean into him. It doesn''t make me feel fully better and I can''t stop crying or thinking about this.

    What did I do to make my parents not want me, to make them not love me? I''ve always done my best to behave and even take care of myself so they don''t have to. I do really well in school, too, so that can''t be it. I''m healthy and never get arrested, never get hospitalized, and am even ripped from being so fit and active so it''s easy to tell I''m strong. I''m social and have a small group of close friends but easily make friends with others, too.

    What did I do wrong? I always aim to be the best and manage it fine. But my parents never praised me. I''m even the top student in my class and the dads showed more enthusiasm individually than my parents did combined when I showed off my progress reports and report cards, even if it made their own sons jealous of my grades. I''m even learning magic, which is really hard to do without a proper bloodline, and my parents don''t care that I''ve made progress in it. I can go somewhere I''ve never been before and leave having made friends, and that''s not something just anyone can do.

    It has to be something which started when I was little. It just has to be, since things have always been this way.

    Is it because I never joined a sport? I don''t know if I ever wanted to when I was little, so maybe that''s it. Maybe it''s because I didn''t show interest in sports when I was little and would''ve been in the super-junior leagues. Because I don''t show interest in competitive things. What use is being at the top if it''s not a competition? That''s got to be it. They don''t like that I''ve never liked being competitive, that I prefer just having fun.

    If I joined a sport, would they love me? I''m really athletic already and I can do them all pretty well. If I put real effort in, I''m sure I''d be the best on the team. Would that make them love me?

    "What''s going on?" Aunt Rachel softly asks.

    I didn''t hear her walk over and my eyes are too full of tears for me to see, so I just keep my head pressed against my knees while leaning into Mr. Michaels.

    "We finished explaining why we were concerned," Mr. Michaels softly responds. "And he guessed there were more people around just in case. I confirmed that there were and he got a happy look on his face, then his expression fell and¡­ he realized about his parents."

    Aunt Rachel doesn''t say anything, but I''m going to assume that''s her who just sat on my other side and is wrapping an arm around me. She pulls herself against me in the hug and rubs my side a little.

    It takes awhile for me to calm down enough to be able to talk.

    "Aunt Rachel?" I mumble.

    "Yes, Bas?"

    "If-if I joined a sport and did really well, would they like me?" I ask. "I''m already the top student. And I''m even learning magic. And I make friends easily. So that''s the only thing missing, r-right? N-not being the best athlete? I-I''m pretty good at sports, though, and that''s without putting in effort. S-so t-they''d love me then?"

    "Bas," she rubs my side again and gives me a squeeze. "We were hoping to wait until much later to touch on this subject with you. Until things were more settled and finalized. This is a little bit more blunt than it probably should be, but your parents never wanted a child in the first place. I''m sorry I didn''t see the signs when you were very little. If I did, maybe things would be different. When you were small, I took care of you more than your parents did. Your first word was ''Ray'', trying to say my name. Your parents were on vacation when you took your first steps. I changed most of your diapers, fed you as a baby, and so much more. But I thought ''once he starts school, things will be easier for them'' and didn''t think more of it. I''m so, so sorry for not realizing sooner, Bas."

    I do remember she was around a lot when I was really small, but I don''t remember too much. It was her who was taking care of me as a baby?

    "It wasn''t until Paul contacted me awhile back," she says. "And told me about what he and the other dads had realized that I started to understand stuff about you and your parents. I knew they hadn''t wanted a kid but since they kept you, just assumed they''d changed their minds. Me moving down here? That wasn''t to be closer to family."

    "It wasn''t?"

    "You overheard Paul and I talking about it the other day," she says. "But the ''one specific boy'' I''m aiming for custody of is you. I moved down here so that you wouldn''t be pulled away from your friends. After your parents up and left to go to Niagara Falls ¨C and I realized that you were serious about how they really do that ¨C and then saw what food they''d left, I made a decision then. That''s why I wanted you to bring your computer over."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Sig," she says. "When your parents come back from their vacation, I''m asking them right then to terminate their rights and let me adopt you. The dads have already agreed to use their connections to expedite the process."

    "We have plenty of evidence that will make it a surefire case," Mr. Michaels rubs my back a little more. "So even if your parents fight it, which we doubt they will, your aunt is guaranteed to get custody of you."

    "Evidence?"

    I try to look at him, but my eyes are still full of tears. They''re not flowing anymore, but I should probably dry my eyes off. Instead, I just close them and put my head back against my knees.

    "Connor, Sam, and Isaac are genuinely curious about what all your parents buy you for food," he says. "They think it''s ridiculous and stupid, and they''re right. They even make fun of your parents for it, no matter how many times we ask them not to. Don''t be mad at them for not telling you about this as we told them in no uncertain terms they''re not allowed to, but we''ve also told them to always ask for you to send pictures of all of what your parents bought if you haven''t and to send us the pictures. Paul''s also taken pictures of your grocery lists on the fridge and then what they actually got and all of the receipts for groceries that he''s gotten you. That normally wouldn''t help our case, except for one major detail."

    "What''s that?"

    "You only write down a couple of junk food items," he says. "Most of what you write down is stuff for meals. And what your parents get isn''t even that. So it''ll show that you''re just trying to get food and your parents aren''t even supplying that much. We also have your message conversations where you complain about the food sometimes, like when your parents order something from a restaurant and don''t even mention it to you and don''t order you anything, so you have to find something on your own."

    "There are probably a lot of those," I mumble.

    "Quite a lot," he agrees. "That''s just some of it, and we''ve got a lot more. But as I said, we don''t foresee them fighting it, not after learning from your aunt that they never wanted a child in the first place. The way they act suggests that''s still the case and are just trying to do the minimum level of care for you. If Rachel asks them to let her adopt you, they''re more than likely going to agree."

    "This isn''t how we wanted you to learn," Aunt Rachel tells me. "I was honestly hoping to put it off until you were a lot older."

    "Even though you were going to adopt me?"

    "The explanation we were planning on giving you," she says. "Would have worked if your parents agreed without a fight. It would just be that your parents didn''t feel fit to raising a child and have struggled your whole life with how to do it and what to do and often relied on your friends'' dads for the actual parenting ¨C which is true ¨C and felt it better if someone else raised you. They wanted it to be a family member you were close to and I agreed to take over that role. That way, you''d not know the truth until their treatment of you was long in the past and you were more emotionally mature. It wouldn''t hurt as much, then."

    They were trying to do things secretly so that I wouldn''t be as hurt and upset and feeling like this. I lean into her and Mr. Michaels moves his hand off my back and ruffles my hair a little. He stays here instead of getting up, and I''m grateful for that. It feels better with both of them.

    "So when we were picking stuff out for your house," I say after a minute of us just sitting like this. "And you kept deflecting back to what I wanted for my room there when I kept trying to ask about the foster kid''s room¡­ that was because I''m the kid you''re wanting to get?"

    "Yeah," she squeezes me again, then rubs my arm. "It was really difficult to not tell you that it was you. I wanted so badly to say ''no, Bas, it''s not some other kid, it''s you, the room that needs setting up is yours because I''m going to try to get you living with me by the end of summer to make sure you''re taken care of and always have food without needing to work for it'' and so much more.

    "That''s why I wanted you to stay with me while your parents are gone, too," she says. "To give us both time to adjust to the difference in rules just a little. I pushed things a bit too fast for you, and I''m sorry about that, Sig."

    "With wanting to know where I''m going and stuff?" I ask.

    "Yeah," she taps her head against mine. "Like I told you before, it just makes me feel better if I know. There''s just some big difference between ''oh, he''s at the park with his friends'' and ''is he at the park? The zoo? The rec center? Did he leave town? Where is he? Oh, my gosh, where he is? Is he okay?'' I know there will probably be times you lie about where you''re at, but since I won''t know you''re lying, I''ll think you''re really at the park and feel fine."

    It still doesn''t make any sense to me how it matters. Why would she feel better knowing I''m at the park versus not knowing where I''m at.

    "Our boys all have to let at least one of us dads know," Mr. Michaels tells me. "And we generally know your location since you''re usually with them, so it''s always been fine for us. We know that if we don''t know where our son is, we can probably just ask one of the other dads and they''ll know. And since our boys do it fairly often, we can usually make a guess and don''t mind them forgetting every now and then.

    "I think your aunt is a bit more affected," he says. "Because she didn''t know until recently that unless you were hanging out with our kids, there was a good chance no one knew where you were. In your eyes, that''s fine. That''s normal. To us, that''s concerning as it makes us worry that you would just vanish. It might seem irrational to you, but that''s because it''s you."

    "Mr. Cox said something similar, I think," I say. "I¡­ kind of vented to him earlier. Is-is Mr. Thompson upset I snapped at him earlier? I was really mad."

    "A little bit," he says. "But he also understands your situation and accepts that he might have overstepped a little when looking at your perspective. That he should have approached it a little bit more sensitively. He told us he probably should have asked Sam''s dad to go instead after Rachel contacted him about you storming off and why."

    "About Mr. Cox," Aunt Rachel says. "He said that the boys only see Bas one to three times a year, whenever they stop down here. It took him until Bas was seven to realize something was wrong and that was why he wanted to see about getting Bas somewhere he could eat well at least for a little bit. After talking with my sister and brother-in-law, he apparently contacted children''s services, too. Assumed things were fine after that, until he realized that Bas was pretty much unchanged between encounters. Got permission to take him to the ranch the next summer and contacted children''s services again. And the summer after that."

    "But not after?" Mr. Michaels asks. "They wouldn''t have told him about the results of their investigation, if any. I''ll have to see if I can get some answers on why nothing was done."

    "Thanks," Aunt Rachel rubs my arm and pulls me against her a little bit more tightly for a moment. "He told us that three summers ago, Bas didn''t want to hang out for as long because ''of a cool new friend'' he wanted to spend the summer hanging out with. He''d also filled out a fair bit and generally looked happier, so he''d assumed that in the five months since the last time they''d seen him, things had changed and Bas was in a different home now. Then that his parents were just better about things, after Bas had to ask them for permission about coming out to the ranches again. Since the food concern was gone, he wasn''t feeling it necessary to have Bas out for a week again so the length was determined by that for the last few years.

    "Though he did say he noticed Bas filling out a little bit," she adds. "He didn''t know he was buying groceries on his own. Or that Bas was taking money from his parents'' safe to get it, nor that he''s now been doing a bunch of jobs to earn money to buy food. That came up while Bas was complaining to him earlier."

    "I didn''t know about the safe," Mr. Michaels says. "Sig? You take money from your parents'' safe?"

    "I did before I started doing jobs for money," I tell him. "And I sometimes still do if I don''t have the money to get me groceries. That''s why I sometimes got grounded after they got back. It was just ''cause I was getting junk food, though. I didn''t know you were having them report that my parents weren''t buying groceries when going on vacation. I did kind of feel bad about you guys buying me stuff but I just wanted to complain about it. Maybe I should''ve waited until after I got some to complain."

    That hadn''t crossed my mind before.

    "You''re really like another son to each of us," Mr. Michaels tells me. "We didn''t mind so much, and we did usually get your parents to pay us back for it. They seemed to misunderstand what we were asking and thought it was for some party we threw for you boys. Not that we were complaining, since they seemed willing to cover the cost of a party just fine and that made it easy."

    "You didn''t tell me about that," Aunt Rachel says, and I giggle a little at her tone. "Feeling better now?"

    "A little bit, yeah," I try to dry my eyes a bit, though I don''t have a shirt on so I can''t use it, so it''s really just wiping them with my hands and hoping for the best.

    "Bas," she says. "Did your parents actually know you were buying junk food? Or do you just assume they knew?"

    "I mean, why else would they be grounding me for buying food?"

    "For taking money from their safe," she says. "I''ll have to ask them about that when they return."

    "They never changed the combination," I say. "It''s mom''s dad''s death date."

    "That''s a really strange date to us," Mr. Michaels comments.

    "She disliked how much control he wanted in our childhood," Aunt Rachel says. "And no, he wasn''t abusive. She just wanted to have no supervision, no responsibilities, nothing. We all went no-contact with her for awhile, and I entered back into her life because of Bas. She contacted me one day and said she just had a kid and had zero idea what to do and wanted to know if I''d come help her and her husband as they adjusted.

    "As much as I wasn''t fond of my sister," she continues. "I wanted to make sure my nephew was fine. As I told you three back when you contacted me about Bas''s situation, I''d honestly thought it was just them having a rough time with a baby and then a toddler and things would be fine once he was in school. Kids had never been my thing, so I thought it was normal at that stage. And Bas? I''m really sorry for not noticing things sooner. If I had, I would''ve talked to your parents years ago and gotten them to let me adopt you. I''m really, really sorry for not noticing."

    "Okay," I press my head into her. "Thanks, Aunt Rachel. I love you lots."

    "I love you, too," she rubs my arm again.

    "I-I''ll try to let you know from now on," I tell her.

    "If you don''t know where you''re going, who you''ll be with, or when you''ll be back," she says. "It''s okay to say that, too, alright? Just as long as you let me know the where and when whenever you figure it out."

    "And Sig?" Mr. Michaels says. "You already know that at least one of the boys texts his dad to let us know when locations are changing, if they remember. I''m sure your aunt will be fine if she knows you''re with them, since one of us pretty much always knows, okay?"

    "I''ll probably still worry my mind off if I don''t know," Aunt Rachel tells me. "But if it''s something I can ask one of the dads, it''s okay. I just need to already know that you''re with the boys or the dads, alright?"

    "Alright."

    We''re all quiet for a minute.

    "Aunt Rachel?"

    "Yes?"

    "Thanks for caring about me."

    "I can''t not," she leans her head against mine. "You''re such a sweet kid."

    "Also¡­"

    "Yes?"

    "I haven''t gone by ''Bas'' in over three years."

    "You''ll always be my little Bastian," she chuckles and gives me another squeeze. "But sorry, Sig."

    "Thanks."

    "Are you feeling a little bit better now?" She asks. "After talking with Mr. Cox, I do feel a little bit better about you hanging out with his kids now."

    "Only Tate''s his kid," I say. "Carter''s the one from the flaremane horse ranch. His last name''s ''Martins''. So it''s okay if I still hang out with them today?"

    "Yeah," she answers. "Do you mind if a couple of us stay as well?"

    I do mind, and I don''t think she''ll change her answer if I say so. But I think she''s still a little worried, now that I know what''s going on.

    "Only if I can have ice cream for lunch."

    "How about after lunch," she chuckles.

    "Deal!"

 Chapter 0053

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Sig!" Aunt Rachel shouts in terror as I hit the ground.

    I roll and spring to my feet, then thrust my fists into the air as I do a little jump.

    "Yeah!" I exclaim. "That was awesome!"

    "Oh, my goodness," Aunt Rachel''s got a hand against her chest and has stopped running toward me. "That was terrifying, Sig!"

    "A drop like that can''t hurt me!" I pound my chest. "I''m made of sterner stuff!"

    "That was an awesome roll!" Carter says. "We forgot to make sure you know how to roll if you miss a jump or if something gives, and you did that perfectly!"

    The bar I''d jumped onto broke when I landed on it and went down with me. I could have grabbed onto something else without an issue, but I wanted to land in style and so let myself fall. As I went down, I made sure to shift my body so I''d do a safe roll to avoid injury as well.

    We''re currently testing the stuff that Carter''s going to use for his video by actually using them now rather than just hitting them or grabbing onto them. More than just jumping and landing, but with some actual running.

    Aunt Rachel, Mr. Richardson, and Mr. Cox are watching as we do this, and I''m having a lot of fun with it. I can see why Carter likes showing off his skills with it to others.

    "Do you have any ideas how many trees I''ve fallen out of?" I ask. "Plus, I''ve done a little bit of freerunning before. That''s just from goofing around with my friends. It was the trees which taught me how to land."

    "Okay, was it like actual trees?" Tate asks. "Or just trial-and-error? Because I''ve heard stories about some trees¡­"

    "You know," I say. "I probably know someone who knows someone who''s met a tree that can talk. He''s got a dorky friend."

    "Who''s a dorky friend?"

    "Aah!" I shout in surprise and look at the kid standing right beside me. "Demon child!"

    "I am not a demon child," he says. "I am a bug-hunting child."

    The kid looks about ten or eleven and is dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a gold sleeveless shirts. He''s the only kid I''ve ever seen at his age with muscle tone like that and he''s always had it, even when I first saw him a few years ago. That''s always struck me as odd since I know developing muscle tone is ridiculously hard until around the teen years, so I''ve been a bit curious about him.

    His sandy-blond hair is styled neatly today even with him apparently hunting bugs, and his blue-green eyes are giving me a look of high curiosity. Even Tate and Carter were only lean at seven and they grew up on magic beast ranches.

    He''s wearing a grown-and-grey backpack with a griffin button fixed to the left arm strap, and he''s holding both straps. The brown, grey, and gold sneakers he''s wearing must be new as they''re really bright.

    "It''s¡­ Greyson, right?" I ask. "I think that''s what Sam and Isaac said your name is. You go to Lakeview?"

    "Yeah," he answers. "I wasn''t expecting others here when I came to hunt for bugs, especially not one of Xander''s friends. Are you hunting for bugs, too?"

    "Xander''s friends?" I ask. "Wait! Xander mentioned that he''s friends with a Greyson kid! Well, he called you a dork until he remembered your name over the weekend. That''s you?"

    During one of the just-chatting sessions during our sleepover, Xander said that he got reminded of the name of his dork friend and it was Greyson. I think he might''ve mentioned it at another time, but he mentioned it for sure during the sleepover. This kid mentioned Xander, so it''s got to be him.

    "We''re second-cousins by blood," he says. "But yes, we are friends. Xander''s currently getting quiet time at my secret base and I was apparently singing a lot, so I came to hunt bugs so that he can have his quiet time."

    He lets go of his backpack and holds his hands in front of him, and a clear bug terrarium appears in it. There aren''t any decorations in it, but there are several grasshoppers with silver markings on their bodies, their wings pure silver in color.

    "Do you like silverwing grasshoppers?" Greyson asks.

    "Uh¡­"

    "If you crush their wings up," he says. "They''re quite useful in making an alloy used in magitech remotes and remote-controlled toys. Not as useful as a multipurpose chicken, but still quite useful."

    "Multipurpose chickens?"

    "Excellent for testing things on," he says as the terrarium vanishes again, and he grabs his backpack straps once more. "But also for eating. In fact, once you finish using them to test a machine, you can then kill them, de-feather them, butcher them, and cook them to eat. You can even race them, too. If you really want to, you can race them, then use them to test a machine, then turn them into food. Very useful, and much more ethical than if you tried to eat a human test subject. You can also use their feathers for arrow fletching if you really wantd."

    This is the first time I''ve ever held a conversation with him. We just sometimes see him when we''re hanging out here and he''s always looking for bugs. Now that I''ve had a conversation with him, as brief as it''s been¡­ I can see why Xander calls him a dork.

    Though I''m also a bit concerned now, too¡­

    "Hm?" Greyson looks at Tate, then at Mr. Cox, then he looks around and spots Mr. Cox''s truck. "Oh. No trailer."

    "I''m not entirely sure where to begin," Mr. Cox says. "But why did you wonder if there was a trailer after seeing us?"

    "Because if you had your fridge trailer," Greyson says. "There would be an 87.938215% chance that you did a meat delivery today or had one. I''m quite fond of mindwave cows and always try to get some when it''s in stock nearby. My allowance is much larger now, so I can even buy more than one steak without having to resort to stealing from mobs. Not that I''m allowed to do that, I''ve been told in very strict terms that I am not to do that anymore."

    We all just stare at him for a moment while he nods, his expression and tone fully that of "this is just how it is", maybe with a slight touch of disappointment.

    Then he sighs.

    "Fortunately," he says. "The new rules do come with a bigger allowance. My great-grandpa wants to make sure I can eat as much as a mage of my caliber needs. I just realized, but it is fully within my means to simply teleport up to Lush Valley and buy the meat from the butchers there directly. Why have I never thought of that before? I think I''ll go and buy some after I finish hunting more silverwing grasshoppers. I do apologize for interrupting your conversation. I heard ''dorky friend'' and it made me think of what Xander calls me so I got curious. That was very rude of me. I''ll go back to hunting bugs now."

    "No, it''s fine," I say as he starts to leave. "Actually, wait! I as talking about you! Have you ever met a tree that can talk?"

    "I have," he answers. "They dislike me, so I do my best to avoid them. It''s not as good as uprooting them or turning them to ash, but Xander gets mad when I do that so I don''t do that anymore. Anyway, I must be off. I need at least three more of these grasshoppers and now I''m thinking about mindwave beef a lot so I''m getting hungry. Goodbye, and enjoy whatever activities you''re doing."

    Greyson wanders off and once he''s a decent distance away, I look at Tate and Carter.

    "Yup," I say. "He''s definitely a weird one!"

    Though didn''t Xander have classes today? They must have gotten canceled for some reason. I bet he had a doctor''s appointment, I can definitely see him wanting quiet time after that. ''The dork'' being chill enough to leave his own space when he realizes he''s bothering Xander when Xander needs quiet is pretty cool, too. All of the mutterings about ''the dork'' I''d heard made him seem like he was insane.

    He''s just a quirky little bug-hunting ten-year-old. Sam and Isaac have mentioned how he''s a bit dorky, too. They don''t see him very much, but his older brother''s in our grade so they see him sometimes.

    "Teleporting?" Aunt Rachel asks. "That''s¡­ an odd thing for a boy to say."

    "Honestly?" Mr. Cox asks. "I''d believe it."

    "You would?" I look at him. "Pretty sure that was just him being dorky. He''s ten. What ten-year-old can teleport?"

    "Did you notice his muscles?" Mr. Cox asks.

    "Kind of jealous he had those three years ago," I say. "Man, when I was seven, I was a skinny runt!"

    "You know how Tate and Carter always leaned toward having some muscle definition?" Mr. Cox asks me. "Not ripped, but at least toned?"

    "Wasn''t that just because they were ranch boys?"

    "No," he snorts. "It''s because of their mana. The more of it someone has as tissue is developed ¨C actively has, not which they can hold ¨C the more it influences said tissue. It doesn''t help them to build muscle, but it can cause said muscles to be stronger than they might be for a normal person. Children who grow up as powerful mages tend to be stronger than they appear as a result, and more resilient to harm as well. This effect is present once it''s begun even if they go low on mana for awhile as their body''s already been altered."

    I don''t fully understand what he just said, but I did understand one part and it confuses me.

    "You just said it wouldn''t have made him ripped," I say.

    "Not by itself," he says. "And the effect is slighter the lower the mana amount is. For someone with a large amount of it, the effects of having mana are more pronounced. Another one is burning fat and building lean muscle. It''s very difficult for a kid to build muscle definition, yet his arms were fully-defined. Either he''s been on an insane workout and diet plan since he as little, or he has a lot of mana and is just an active kid."

    "I don''t have a massive pool of it but have muscles," I slap my abs. "Ain''t every day you see a normal kid with these!"

    "You only recently developed abs, Sig," Mr. Richardson gives me a light bop on the head. "And it''s not unheard of for a boy your age, and one as physically active as you, to develop muscle definition. When was the last time you didn''t spend at least half the day running or biking around?"

    "Wednesday."

    "Smart-ass."

    "What was Wednesday?" Tate asks.

    "We were cleaning up Aunt Rachel''s back yard," I tell him, then look at his dad. "So you''re saying that because he''s ten and ripped, he''s very likely got a large pool of mana and does fitness stuff?"

    "I am," Mr. Cox says. "And if he''s got enough mana to build up muscle like that, he''s probably an anomaly like Lucas Gates. A ten-year-old being able to teleport is within reason when looking at anomalies like them or the Lumaria Kings."

    "Oh," I say, then realize something.

    Wait. Xander''s insistent that he''s not a Lumaria King, but he''s related to someone who might be an anomaly or a Lumaria King, and his last name is King. When he was telling us about being related to the dork, he also mentioned that he''d only just learned it.

    Could it be that he''s actually a Lumaria King? I guess not one of the really powerful ones, though, or I''m sure he''d have known long before now. Next time I see Xander, I''ll have to ask him how strong his cousin is and if he can really teleport.

    I''d send him a text to ask him now, except I guess he needs some quiet right now.

    "Speaking of muscles," Mr. Cox says. "Shirts, boys!"

    "Shirts?" I ask. "Put them on? Why? It''s summer and nice out!"

    "For the videos," Carter says as he and Tate go to the truck to get their shirts. "No being shirtless in them unless it''s something where it''d make sense."

    "Just because the area is safe here," Mr. Cox tells me. "That doesn''t mean it''s safe everywhere. There''s a difference between posting a picture of you and your family at the beach and regularly posting videos where you''re shirtless throughout them. That can more easily draw the wrong sort of attention. So the rule Carter''s parents have ¨C and one which I''m requiring Tate to abide by ¨C is shirts on in all videos where it''s not logical to lack them. So if they''re at a mudfest or a beach, where nearly all guys are shirtless, it''s fine. But for just a normal video like this? It''s required."

    "I''m in agreement with him on that," Aunt Rachel tells me. "You did actually bring a shirt, right? You weren''t just saying one was in your backpack?"

    "I have a full extra change of clothes in there," I tell her. "In addition to a shirt."

    "Go put one on," she tells me. "You can''t help with the video otherwise."

    "No, that makes sense," I tell her. "I mean, I hadn''t thought about it before Mr. Cox explained it, but I understand."

    I grab a sleeveless shirt from my backpack and pull it on, and find that that''s the sort of shirt Tate and Carter pulled on, too.

    Tate''s also retrieved a camera and is aiming it at Carter as the other boy gets into position.

    "Ready?" Tate asks.

    "Ready!" Carter responds.

    "Three¡­" Tate begins a countdown. "Two¡­ one¡­ go!"

    "Hi, everybody!" Carter waves to the camera with a big smile on his face. "Carter here, back for another episode! Today, I''m in the ruins of a place that was destroyed by monsters back before I was born and as always, I''ve got some extras here for safety!"

    Tate turns to show Mr. Cox in the video, then turns back to aiming at Carter.

    "Always remember to be safe when doing your runs!" Carter says. "And always triple-check potentially unsafe surfaces if you want to go on them! And now that that''s done, let''s go!"

    Carter turns and takes off running. Tate follows after him and just as I suspected, he uses his float magic to keep up. Seeing him do his runs, jumps, flips, landings, and other things live is pretty cool and fun to watch and the speed he''s doing it is even more insane in person than in the video he showed me.

    Despite them being the same speed.

    "If you don''t stay with them," Mr. Richardson looks at Mr. Cox, who''s stayed with us rather than following after the other boys. "What happens if he has a bad fall?"

    "It would have to be a really bad one to hurt him," Mr. Cox says. "As I explained before, the more mana you have as tissue is developed, the stronger it is. Children who grow up with a lot of mana have a more pronounced effect. You could hit Carter with your truck at sixty an hour and he''d walk away with some scratches and bruises, but nothing serious. If, by some chance, he did end up hurt, Tate would let me know immediately via telepathy and I can be pretty fast when I need. Mind magics aren''t the only ones we grow up learning on the ranch. Have to be fast if a bull or cow decides it wants to run off."

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    It would probably sound bad to admit I want to see Carter and Tate get hit by a truck now, even though it''s not out of malicious reasons. I just really want to see how unharmed they''d be for it!

    "Psst! Xander''s friend!" a quiet voice whispers, and I look over to find Greyson standing between two buildings. He beckons to me. "Come here!"

    Curious about what he wants, I leave the adults to their conversation and walk over. He had to have used magic to whisper to me because there''s no way I could have heard him otherwise with how quiet his voice was and the adults didn''t seem to hear him.

    "Yes?"

    "You look bored," he says. "Catching bugs is really fun, want to join me?"

    "I''m waiting for Tate and Carter to finish," I tell him. "Then we''re going to play. It probably won''t be too long."

    "Okay," he says. "We can catch bugs around here while you wait, if you want."

    "What would I do with them after?"

    "Give them to me so I can play with them."

    "And¡­ what would you do while playing with them?"

    I''ve heard enough of Xander''s mutterings about him to know to always ask that question.

    "Depends on if they''re useful or not," he says. "If they''re useful, then I''ll use their parts for whatever I need them for. If not, I''ll see what they look like when I draw explosion runes on them. It makes them be the explosion rather than needing other explosive stuff or just be blowing them up."

    I''m not quite sure the difference.

    "That doesn''t really interest me."

    "Oh," he looks disappointed.

    "Are you and Xander Lumaria Kings?" I decide to ask, mostly because of what Mr. Cox made me think about.

    "We are," he answers. "Though Grandfather Adrian didn''t really know about us until recently. Not all members stay with the family and he''s kind enough to let people go when they want to. Xander''s not just a Lumarikang, though. He''s also a reincarnated god. That gives him extra powers."

    A reincarnated god? I think Xander mentioned Greyson believing that for some reason, no matter how hard he tries to convince his friend he''s not.

    "What kind of extra powers?" I ask.

    "I once saw Xander kill every dragon on Earth after they tried to steal his cheesecake," he says with a completely straight face. "In an instant, too. He just glared at the dragons and they all died."

    "Dragons are myths," it''s really hard not to laugh at that and I get reminded that Xander mentioned that he''s pretty sure Greyson mixes up dreams and reality a lot.

    This kid was definitely dreaming when he saw that.

    "That''s because Xander killed them all," he says as a sphere with trapezoidal pieces appears in his hands, a faint glow emitting between the lines. "He also made this. Only a god could make a puzzle so puzzling to me."

    His face lights up and the sphere disappears, replaced by another. This one looks similar, but with pentagons and hexagons for its pieces instead.

    "Oh!" He exclaims. "He also made this one! It''s a little bit easier. Only takes me six hours to crack rather than months! Do you want it? He made, like, three of them for some reason. He made three of the other one, too. It''s probably because he likes that number."

    "It''s a puzzle?" I accept the sphere out of curiosity.

    "Yeah," another of the second sphere appears in his hands. "You can push in or pull out the pieces, and you can rotate or slide them ¨C the surrounding pieces will move if you slide one. Once a piece is shifted," he demonstrates, and all of the other pieces on the sphere change, either their heights, their locations, whether they''re a pentagon or hexagon, or the lengths of their sides. Some of them do multiple of those shifts. "And they change! And the brightness of the glow tells you if you made a good move or a bad one. If the glow gets a little bit brighter, then you made a bad move and are further away from solving it. The glow dims, and you''re closer."

    "That''s really neat," I say.

    Xander made something like this? So he''s dumb on paper but smart in practice? That must be really rough for him and is probably why he''s taking extra classes during the summer. He feels dumb because he gets bad test grades. I did think he was smarter than he was saying, though, and I''m right!

    "It is!" Greyson nods. "And you can even reset them, too! Look, you put a finger on seven of the pentagons ¨C there are always at least seven ¨C just like this, and you go ''reset puzzle'' and look, it resets!"

    The sphere''s pieces shift around for a few seconds.

    "And what determines its starting point differs," he tells me as he presents the sphere to me. "So you can be sure that each run is different. Xander said that it should look like a soccer ball when it''s solved, and no gaps will be between the pieces so no glow will be visible."

    The sound of an acoustic guitar comes from his shorts.

    "Papa''s calling me," he says. "I''ve got to go. Happy bug hunting!"

    Greyson vanishes.

    He seems quite fun to be around, but also a bit scatterbrained and definitely dorky. I can see why Xander likes to hang out with him.

    I reset the puzzle sphere Greyson gave me as I walk over to the trucks, then pull down the tailgate of Mr. Richardson''s and sit on it while I wait for Tate and Carter to finish. They''ve probably got at least five more minutes, so I can see how much I can get done on this puzzle.

    "What''s that?" Aunt Rachel walks over after a few minutes.

    "Greyson showed up and asked me to go bug hunting," I tell her. "Then got a little bit dorky, then gave me this. Xander apparently makes these as a hobby? They''re puzzle spheres, and I think they''re magitech. Greyson said it takes him six hours to solve, but I think I''ve almost got it? It''s supposed to look like a soccer ball. Well, one made of metal, and only three inches in diameter. But when it''s done, it should look like a soccer ball.

    "Actually," I snort. "Xander probably makes them to get Greyson to leave him alone for awhile without worry of being rude. I''m right! Here we go!"

    I twist a piece, push in another, pull another, slide another, push in two more¡­ Aunt Rachel watches as I keep making shifts just as soon as the other pieces stop moving. After a few more minutes, the last adjustment I make causes everything to fall into place, turning into a three-inch metal soccer ball.

    "That''s really cool!" I say.

    "How did you solve that?" Aunt Rachel asks. "I couldn''t keep up with what you were doing."

    "There were patterns," I tell her. "Like, if I turned a pentagon and that was the right move ¨C the glow would dim a little bit more ¨C the next move seemed to always be to mess with a hexagon. If the right move was lowering a hexagon to Position1 from Position 2, what I''m calling when the pieces are down and when they''re middle, and I can only shift them one position at a time, then I had to look for a nearby hexagon that had gone from Position 1 to Position 3. If there wasn''t an adjoining pentagon before but was then, the right move would be to rotate the hexagon on the other side of the hexagon. On the opposite side from the pentagon."

    "You picked that up in just a few minutes?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "They''re easy to spot," I tell her as I take my phone out. "Gonna show Xander!"

    I don''t know if he actually wants us knowing about these since we only started hanging out recently, so I send it via direct text rather than the group chat. It''s a picture of me and the puzzle sphere, followed by a message.

    [Sig]: I met your cousin! Now I know why you call him a dork!

    [Sig]: Also, he gave me one of these and said you made them! They''re really cool! Took about nine minutes from reset to solve! It was super fun!

    [Sig]: Is it okay to show others?

    "Okay! Sent!" I say. "''Cept Greyson said he needed quiet, so it might be a bit before he responds. Carter''s probably about done, too."

    "Before he comes back," Aunt Rachel says. "How are you feeling?"

    "Kind of happy," I look at the sphere. "This is really awesome, Aunt Rachel! It''s so cool that Xander''s good with his hands! I wanna ask him what other kinds of stuff he likes to make. Do you think that''ll scare him, though? He seems to get nervous whenever we start asking him a bunch of questions."

    "I don''t know him that well," she says. "So I can''t say for sure. I do think excitedly asking him questions might scare him, though."

    My phone pings and I check it.

    "Oh!" I exclaim. "He''s responded already! Lemme see¡­"

    [Xander]: He''s apparently fine with being called a dork. I guess he accepts his dorkness.

    [Xander]: Did you really like it?

    [Xander]: Nine minutes? Greyson said it took him six hours. He''ll probably be really jealous.

    [Xander]: If you think they''d like it, I guess you can.

    [Xander]: He really gave it to you?

    [Sig]: I think they''d love it! And yeah, he said he had another.

    [Xander]: So THAT''S where the second one went. I must''ve put it with the one I left out for him.

    [Xander]: If I made them right, they should change their formula based on the location of Errai when the reset happens, so it should be different from use to use.

    [Sig]: What''s Errai?

    [Xander]: A star.

    He must have programmed it with a year-round star chart and a clock so it could do the checks. That''s pretty cool and while I don''t know much about magitech, I''m pretty sure that can''t be easy to do. His uncertainty on if he made it right probably comes from that.

    Before I can come up with a response to his message, Xander sends a picture with a couple of constellations, including Errai.

    [Xander]: I thought about doing Polaris, but picked Errai.

    [Xander]: You really like the puzzle sphere?

    [Sig]: Yeah! Are they hard to make?

    [Xander]: Not really.

    [Xander]: I really like having autocorrect on. Even if it''s always correcting me.

    I giggle a little at the random comment. He probably got annoyed with it constantly fixing his mistakes but then got happy that he can be understood more easily.

    [Sig]: Are you doing okay? Greyson said he was bug-hunting because you wanted quiet and he kept singing while working.

    [Xander]: He was singing about muffins with machine guns¡­

    [Xander]: I''m doing okay. I think. Definitely better than earlier. There was a surprise visit from my case worker earlier and surprises always make me feel overwhelmed. And I was already feeling a little bit overwhelmed.

    [Sig]: Okay! I''ll let you get back to your quiet! Have a good day!

    [Xander]: You, too.

    [Xander]: Don''t explode.

    I''m going to assume that last part is out of habit with Greyson.

    "He''s going back to his thing," I tell Aunt Rachel. "He apparently doesn''t handle surprises well and there was a surprise visit from his case worker earlier. Do you think they''re going to take him back?"

    "No," she says. "Not if he''s happy and safe with Trey. From my understanding, case workers do monthly visits to check on the home and the kid, and can do surprise visits as well if they wish. She was probably just checking in to see how he was doing."

    Aunt Rachel sits beside me on the tailgate.

    "When I asked how you''re doing," she says. "I was meaning about the other stuff. It''s not been that long. You don''t need to pretend if you''re upset."

    "I''m¡­ okay if I focus on other things," I tell her. "Do you think they''ll love me if I get competitive? If I want to do competitive stuff?"

    Aunt Rachel wraps and arm around me and pulls me against her.

    "You''re perfect the way you are, Sig," she gives me a kiss on my forehead. "Don''t try to change yourself to earn love. Remember that I''m here for you and so are the dads, okay?"

    My friends'' dads all like me. How come it''s easier for them to like me but not my own parents? At least I won''t have to change for them.

    "Okay¡­"

    "Also," she says. "It''s almost time for lunch. Mr. Cox wanted to know if we''d be fine with him ordering pizza."

    "Can we?"

    "We told him someone was going to come out here," she says. "And he could pick it up on his way."

    I can''t think of who might be coming out here. The dads had to leave because they needed to get back to work and the backup all left as well. At least, as far as I know they''re all gone.

    "Someone else?"

    "Derrick," she answers. "Mr. Fuller. He took the week off as a vacation, so he doesn''t need to worry about missing work and Mr. Richardson needs to return to the office. He''s also bringing ice cream for you boys."

    "Oh, cool!" I exclaim. "How many gallons of it?"

    "You are not going to eat an entire gallon of ice cream!" She laughs. "It''ll be about fifteen minutes or so before he gets out here with the pizzas and ice cream. If you want to play with Tate and Carter when they finish up their thing, you can."

    "Alright," I say. "And, um, Aunt Rachel?"

    "Yes?"

    "Thanks," I tell her. "Um¡­ again, I mean. For caring. And I''m sorry about getting mad this morning."

    "It''s okay, Sig," she says. "I''ve just been so worried about you ever since Paul clued me in, I really should have taken things a little bit more slowly. Trying to add in extra rules to a teen who''s used to not having any was not the smartest of ideas on my part. And Mr. Richardson told me to let him know if you wanted to talk to a therapist, or you could let him know. He wouldn''t be able to be the one you see, but he can recommend one that you might do well with."

    "Okay," I say. "I don''t think I want to talk to a therapist. I just¡­ I don''t know."

    "The option''s there if you ever want it," she tells me. "Okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Now," she looks away. "It looks like Tate and Carter are coming back. Why don''t you go have some fun?"

    "Don''t need to tell me twice!"

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "What is this?" Cal covers his mouth as he laughs.

    "It''s called ''grilling''," I tell him. "The art of using charcoal in a grill to cook food."

    Papa and I are both on the deck, and I''m watching the charcoal get ready. I was forbidden from using magic to speed up any processes and so am attempting to will the charcoal to finish preparing faster. Using magic to look through the metal of the grill is okay, since Papa closed it so that the heat is contained, but using magic to speed up the heating up is not.

    Maybe I should ask Xander how he bends reality to make what he wants to happen happen. Like dog fur. He enjoys visiting dogs at the pet shelter or petting random dogs he comes across on the street, yet dog fur never sticks to him simply because he does not wish for it to. That is likely a power he has as a god, but it might be something a mortal such as myself could learn.

    Then I could use it to make the charcoal simply be ready. Then when Papa scolds me for using magic, I could just say "All I did was want it to be ready, can you prove that I used magic?"

    Actually, he couldn''t even if I did. Maybe if I-

    "Greyson," Papa''s voice is stern. "No magic."

    Dang it! He somehow knew I was about to try!

    "Aw¡­"

    "I''ve never seen Greyson try to help grill before," Cal says. "He''s even got a new apron for it? That''s not his baking or normal chef apron, right? It matches your grilling one, mostly."

    The apron is pure black and has some pockets for putting grilling tools in. Papa''s apron has "Papa Griller" stitched on the chest in orange, and mine doesn''t have anything on it. Yet. It will after I get my sewing kit out. I like doing that by hand but it takes a little while. I haven''t decided what to put on it yet.

    "I bought it while out," Papa tells him. "Figured he''d want one to match mine."

    "Ah," Cal says. "Speaking of aprons, Greyson? Emily''s is about to need replacing. Do you want to do the name on hers? Dad said he can bring it home after he gets off work tonight."

    "That''ll be twenty bucks."

    "This kid," Cal chuckles. "Yes, Greyson, she''s agreed to pay for it. As always. You''re helping Papa grill today? How did that happen?"

    "Your dad heard about Cox Cattle doing a meat delivery down here today," Papa tells him. "And Mr. King had mentioned that Greyson enjoys mindwave beef, which is the kind Cox Cattle does. Your grandfather felt we might not know since we don''t normally buy magic foods and Greyson usually sprinkles in crushed magic crystals into his food here if he wants it here."

    I only do that if it''s going with sugar that''s not getting dissolved, since there''s no textural difference. It makes it work really well in something like cinnamon rolls, but not in something like frosting.

    "You bought magic beef?" Cal asks. "Wait. Mindwave? That sounds¡­ dangerous?"

    "It doesn''t hurt you to eat," I tell him. "They''re called that because while alive, the cattle will emit waves of mental magics as a defense mechanism or when angry or going on the offensive. The magic in their meat makes it tastes better, especially to mages. Papa called me while I was hunting bugs and let me know he''d bought some mindwave steaks and wanted to know if I wanted to eat them. He then scolded me for suggesting that he see a doctor over thinking I would not want to eat such delicious meat."

    "Your exact words were ''you need your head examined, Papa''."

    "Being magic makes it tastes better?" Cal asks before I can respond to Papa''s correction.

    "Indeed," I answer. "And the type of magic it originates from can even affect the flavors in other ways. For a natural mind mage and dreamsage like myself, foods that come from animals with mental magics are extremely delicious."

    "We knew about you using mental magics," Cal says. "But only your empathy and telepathy, I think. What''s a dreamsage?"

    He''s not sure if Dad and Papa are aware of other mind magics I use, and I currently can''t remember. This one probably won''t get me into trouble unless they think too hard on it.

    "Natural dream mages," I answer. "I''m able to walk through dreams with ease. Mine, and even others. I can even eat them to recover some of my mana. I was born one so it''s not a magic I developed on my own. Papa, is the charcoal ready?"

    "Not yet," Papa says. "We''ve still got at least two more minutes before it should be ready for grilling. And Cal? I got enough for you as well if you want some."

    "I''m curious about the flavor," he says.

    "But I want it ready now."

    "Patience, Greyson," Papa tells me.

    "Cal''s here, too," Cal tells Papa. "We were stopping by to pick something up."

    "He can have one, too," Papa tells him.

    "Henry''s grounded," I say. "He hit Papa at the store and so doesn''t get special meat, only regular. No steak, either. Just a sandwich. A sad, pathetic, PB and J sandwich. Not even the crunchy peanut butter, the creamy stuff. I''ll tell you, that boy is getting worse."

    "You''re a boy, too," Cal snorts.

    "Sadly," I say.

    Needing to get permission to buy materials for my project sucks, but I have to do that now because Grandfather Adrian is now involved in my life and I''m a kid.

    "Henry hit you?" Cal ignores me to ask Papa.

    "He was having a tantrum over me not letting him get toys," Papa explains. "And Greyson? You like crunchy peanut butter?"

    "Yeah."

    "How come you''ve never said anything?" He asks. "We always get the creamy since that''s what Henry likes and he''s the only one who really eats peanut butter."

    Cal doesn''t like peanut butter and Travis just doesn''t eat it unless it''s all that''s there. I can''t eat creamy, only crunchy.

    "Travis and I both like crunchy," I say. "I just thought it was to deter me from eating it so that Dad could sneak spoonfuls of it at night without getting caught."

    "Dad does what?" Papa laughs.

    "Whoops! Didn''t mean to tattle!" I say. "Hey, is the charcoal ready yet?"

    "Let''s see," Papa laughs as he pulls the lid off of the grill. "The charcoal''s ready. Let''s get those steaks out here."

    Papa teaches me how to grill steaks, which includes starting them at different times so they''ll all finish around the same time when there are different cook levels. I like steaks pretty rare, while Papa and the Calsall want medium. As we cook, he lets me put my own steak on the grill and flip it when it''s time.

    "Whoa," Cal says after taking his first bite. "Papa, this really is amazing."

    "Right?" I ask. "It''s the best beef in the world, and you can trust me on that! I''ve tried beefs in all sorts of countries and-"

    "I thought you''ve never left the country?" Papa raises an eyebrow.

    "It was imported."

    "Uh-huh," he says as the Cals both try not to laugh.

    "Anyway," I say. "This is definitely the best beef. And I realized earlier, but why haven''t I ever just teleported up there and bought it directly instead of waiting for there to be a delivery down here? Though I''ve never made a steak before. I get chunks of it and grind it into ground beef and then make cheeseburgers. And with the bigger allowance now, I can even buy more than just one burger''s worth of beef!"

 Chapter 0054

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    The recording session is done, lunch has been eaten, and it''s time for more fun! We boys already took off our shirts after the recording session ¨C especially Carter, whose shirt had started to stick to him from sweat ¨C to enjoy the summer sun more. Now we''re changing into swim trunks behind some rubble so the adults don''t see anything as we change. Tate and Carter are going to bust out their water magic and we''re going to use it to cool off while having fun.

    They brought swim trunks with them because they were planning on jumping into one of the springs of Nine Springs once the recording session was done, but with three of us here, there''s more that we can do.

    "By the way," I say as we put our clothes at the trucks. "I didn''t tell you guys the last couple of times we met, but I''ve been learning magic! Only air magic, though. My teacher says it''s best to focus on just one type for now and while I wanted to learn water magic so I wasn''t the only one left out on this sort of thing¡­ I want to learn lightning magic more!"

    "Really?" Tate asks. "What kinds of air magics can you do? My floating spell''s air magic, you know."

    "I do!" I nod. "And it''s not much. I started working extra to earn more money so I could pay for the lessons after I came back from the ranch last summer. They''re soooo expensive! You guys are lucky, having your parents teach you.

    "Since I''m starting at normal mana values for a person," I tell them. "I can''t do much. Just make some stuff float and stuff like that. Fill up beach balls, deflate them. Make small object float above my palm. Really minor spells. But I have doubled my mana capacity in the last year! So I''m hoping that once I get the techniques down, I can do a lot more!"

    "What techniques?" Mr. Cox asks, and I look over at him. "How''s your instructor teaching you? There''s a right way and a wrong way to do it, and if you managed to double your mana capacity in the last year but you can only make small objects float, something''s not right."

    "Why?" I ask. "Isn''t it like building muscles? I practice a lot, so it would make sense for it to double."

    "Doubling in a year isn''t actually that easy," he says. "Most people manage to raise their capacity by ten percent in a year of dedicated training. You either have a natural talent for building mana, or you''re putting in an absurd amount of effort to learn spells."

    "Just a few hours a week, even when I don''t have lessons," I say. "That''s all I can really do with my current capacity and abilities."

    "So you have a natural talent for building mana," he says. "Though that can also come with a healthy, fit body. Even people who aren''t from magic bloodlines can have some talent ¨C like two ordinary people somehow having a genius of a child. So I''m curious about the techniques you''re using to cast spells."

    "How I cast the spells, not how I''m being taught?"

    "The former will tell me the latter," he says. "And I want to know the part about how you start casting the spell, not the actual spell cast itself."

    While that sounds a bit weird to hear, I know what he means. There are two steps to casting a spell: channeling one''s mana and the actual spell itself. He''s asking about the channeling part, or where I feed my mana into the spell formula.

    "Ah," I say. "Um¡­ air magics are light and fluffy, right? Since it''s air itself that I''m wielding and creating? So I funnel the spell a bit like a tornado, starting wider and then shrinking it down to a point that releases or controls the air."

    "Is that how your instructor taught you to do it?" Mr. Cox asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Buddy," Tate puts a hand on my shoulder, and my heart stops for a moment for some weird reason as I become extremely aware of the touch. "You''re getting scammed!"

    "Scammed?"

    "Yes," Mr. Cox says. "Scammed. They may or may not be doing it on purpose, but that is absolutely the wrong way to teach someone."

    "What do you mean?" I ask.

    "Magic," Tate releases my shoulder and steps in front of me. "Is finnicky. It tends to do its own thing and we are really just its channels. But at the same time, everyone has a little bit of nuance that affects how they use magic. Some of those nuances make it easier to cast certain types of spells ¨C what you know as a ''magical bloodline''. Nuances in my family''s bloodline make it easier for us to cast certain types of mind magic such as shielding and telepathy, but also float and self-enhancement."

    "Mine," Carter says. "Makes it easier for me to use water magics, and also self-enhancement."

    "That''s not all there is to these nuances," Mr. Cox tells me. "As Tate said, they also affect how you cast spells. Some of them can be passed from parent to child, but some of them are based on the person''s own unique quirks. When I cast a spell to enhance my body''s durability, the method involves infusing, for lack of a better word, my body with the visualization of the hardiness of stone."

    "For me," Tate says. "It''s more like I''m pushing my will to not get hurt into my body."

    "They''re both a form of self-enhancement magic," Mr. Cox says. "But they''re cast in different ways because of our individual quirks."

    "A better example''s probably my parents and me!" Carter jumps up and down while raising his hands. "Yours isn''t physical and just sounds weird!"

    "You''re right," Mr. Cox snorts. "Why don''t you tell him?"

    "So my mom," Carter says. "When she uses water magic, she casts it as if gathering rain together within her mana, then unleashing it into the spell she wants. My dad says that for him, it''s more like he visualizes diverting water from a river. For me, however, it''s more like there''s a mist and I pull some of it away from the rest and gather it together as I shape it into the spell."

    "So each person''s is different?" I ask. "So that''s just my instructor''s way of doing it? She said it''s how all air magic is done."

    "It probably is for her," Mr. Cox says. "But no, it''s not how everyone does it. I know a few wind spells, and they follow my quirk of ''infusing with some trait of the magic''. What we''ve all shared is our general trait that''s shared between all of the spells we cast. There are smaller nuances to them that are more difficult to describe."

    He points at my chest.

    "If you''ve managed to double your mana in a year," he says. "And you''re practicing your magic every week, then it might not be difficult for you to find your nuance. You''re likely already familiar with your mana flow."

    "A little bit," I nod, then glance at Tate and Carter. "Is it okay if I give that a try? I''m really super curious now."

    If my instructor''s been teaching me wrong all this time, then I might be able to make better progress on my casting if I figure out the proper way for me to cast.

    "Sure!" Tate says. "I wanna see you cast your first spell properly!"

    Now I don''t want to mess up this, so I close my eyes and focus. I can sort of sense my mana, which fills my body. It''s been a few days since my last use of it so I''m all the way full right now. Tonight was going to be my next practice session if I don''t do a sleepover.

    "Try to channel your mana," Mr. Cox tells me. "Don''t try to shape it into a spell, just try to push some out of your hand. If you can feel your own mana well enough, you''ll be able to spot how it wants to move. Guide it through that pattern."

    "Okay," I nod.

    "Since you don''t have a magic bloodline," he says. "It won''t want to be shifted into any particular form of magic. Don''t feel discouraged if it just wants to be shaped but not into any particular type, okay?"

    "Right."

    I probably would have been a little unhappy if it didn''t want to turn into wind or lightning magic, so it''s good he reminded me I don''t have an affinity for magic itself.

    After about a minute of letting a small bit of my mana flow out of me, I feel the way my mana wants to flow. It doesn''t want to be a small vortex of wind within me. It''s more like it wants to surround me, like a bubble or a gale. If I had a water affinity, it would probably be like if I were completely submerged in a pool. For air magic, it would probably be like it wants to surround me like a tornado.

    If this is the right way for me to make my mana flow, then casting it into a wind spell won''t really show anything. Except maybe some shifting of my shorts and hair. Maybe if I were to tweak the air-generation spell just a little into another one that I looked up, I could show it well. My instructor scolded me for trying to focus on too many magic types when just learning.

    "Eep!" I exclaim as something cold touches my skin in several spots, causing me to open my eyes and jump as well. "Cold!"

    "Did you just make snow?" Tate giggles.

    "I did!" I exclaim. "Wait! I did! I made snow! Jeez, that was cold!"

    The snow''s already melted in the summer heat so I can''t see it, but they saw the snow so I know it worked!

    "Aunt Rachel!" I jump up and down a little. "Did you see that? I cast a spell more properly this time!"

    It was so much easier than my normal casts, too!

    "I did," she says. "That was pretty neat, Sig."

    "It was, right?" I nod, then look at Mr. Cox. "Thanks for helping me!"

    "That wasn''t quite wind magic," he says. "I take it you''ve looked up other types of magics before?"

    "I did," I nod. "And it''s like my mana wants to surround me when I use it. I''m not sure how well that''ll work for most spells, though¡­"

    "That''s where a proper instructor comes in," he says. "They can help you learn how to cast spells which seem to go against the quirks of your casting. Pare down the scale of your magic surrounding you to, say, just your hand. I don''t really know the mages down here that well so I won''t be able to give recommendations on a proper instructor here, though. Sorry."

    "It''s fine!" I tell him. "If I''d known that my instructor wasn''t a good one before now, I would''ve asked some mages I know if they knew a good one. There''s a mage district I go to in town sometimes, and they''re all pretty cool folks. I''m sure one could give me a recommendation for an instructor. Though I probably won''t be able to do even every two weeks like I am with my current one¡­ she just gives basic lessons and charges three hundred an hour. That''s a lot of mowed yards and dogs sat just for one hour."

    "Yeah, no, that is a scam," Tate says. "Three hundred an hour? And she doesn''t teach properly? She''s got no clue what she''s doing. Talk to one of the mage shop owners you''re good with and I guarantee that you''ll get a much better instructor at a much better rate!"

    "Oh, um. Okay," maybe I should have done more research on magic instructors before starting.

    "Whatever it is," Aunt Rachel tells me. "You''ll still need to do some work to pay for it, Sig. That''s too expensive of an extra for me, okay?"

    "That''s fine!" I tell her. "I always pay for my own stuff, remember? Tate! Carter! Let''s go!"

    Tate, Carter, and I run into a grassy section which is part of a park. A run-down park, but a park. The equipment might still be safe to play on but that''s not what we''re doing.

    Carter conjures three-inch spheres of water and shoots them at Tate and me, and we do our best to dodge them. He doesn''t keep controlling them after he shoots them, so there''s no moving them around to make sure they hit. If we do get struck by one of the spheres, we run outside of the ''zone'' we''re imagining exists, then charge back in. Our goal is to tackle Carter while his goal is to keep us from getting him.

    Dodging the water shots is really fun, though he does manage to hit me quite a lot. It takes a few minutes, but I manage to tackle him before Tate does, letting out a yell as I slam into him. We hit the ground laughing.

    "Same as last time?" I ask as we get back to our feet. "I don''t think I could conjure water like that. Just a small bit of snow around me, and that took out a good chunk of my mana, too, so no way could I keep it up."

    All of the past times we played like this, things were a little bit different when I was It due to me not being able to make orbs of water. Instead of me trying to hit them with water magic, they had to try and keep their water orbs away from me, within a few restrictions. It had to be at chest- or head-level for me the entire time, they had to maintain control, and they only got five orbs total. If they lost all five orbs, then the other one was the new It. Moving their orbs out of the same level as my head or torso would also disqualify that orb and they would need to cast a new one.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    The level of my head or torso when fully standing, so me jumping or ducking doesn''t change the requirement. That would be too complicated.

    "Yeah!" Carter says. "And we''re a lot better since we played this in September! I can move around more while keeping control, so you better watch out!"

    "You watch!" I grin. "I''ll get you again!"

    I go to the starting spot for the one who''s It, then count to ten. Tate and Carter take up their positions, and once I reach ten, they conjure three-inch orbs of water. Carter only conjures one while Tate casts two.

    Weird. Isn''t Carter the one who''d have better control? I want Tate to be the next It since I want to tackle him, too. Make it even!

    I begin chasing after their orbs, Tate and Carter both doing their best to keep them out of my reach. Tate manages to maintain two orbs while moving around and moving them around, but he gives up after losing two of them to me charging head-first into them and a third one to just dropping it. I guess he was stretching his abilities to show off, which was pretty cool!

    Carter''s pretty cool, too. He manages to keep his orbs away from me a lot more easily, and I end up taking Tate out instead, so Carter resumes his spot as It. His shots of water are pretty fast, including his casting speed. Tate''s a little bit slower and his orbs don''t go as far, but they''re still fun to try and avoid when it''s his turn as It.

    Running into the water, getting hit by the water, dodging the spheres, and tackling each other is really fun. Them being faster and having more stamina than me doesn''t really give them too much of an edge for this as my reflexes are actually better than theirs so I can dodge more easily, even if they can get closer to the other when trying to tackle the one who''s It.

    So as long as I do a good job of timing my evasions, the playing field''s pretty even.

    We keep the games up for about half an hour, each round lasting about two or three minutes, and by the time we''re done, we''re all exhausted. The grassy field we''re in is pretty muddy and we''ve got a decent amount of mud on us in addition to being soaked all the way from the water. We''ve even got mud covering our feet and halfway up our calves now!

    "Hold on, boys," Mr. Cox says as we approach, gesturing with his hands a little. "Stop right there."

    "Why?" We ask together.

    A shadow covers us and we look up to see water stretching over us, then it drops down and soaks us more. Also washes off the mud, too!

    "That was awesome!" I exclaim. "Do it again! Do it again! Please?"

    "Alright!" He laughs, then gestures with his hands again and creates another span of water to drop on us. "Are you boys ready for ice cream? Mr. Fuller here has some in his cooler."

    "Yeah!" "Ice cream!" "Of course!"

    "Sig," Aunt Rachel says as Mr. Fuller opens up the cooler he''s got sitting on his tailgate. "The dads and I spoke a little before they left and we were talking about maybe going up to the ranches as a group. Me, you, them, and the other boys."

    This is a "they know I was always fine and Mr. Cox and the Martins were concerned about me and wanting to make sure I was fine, but we''re still not completely sure and don''t want you there without us" sort of thing. I''m sure of it.

    Aunt Rachel probably didn''t want to go up there just the two of us, but it''d be weird for one of the dads to come up with me but not his son. Then it''d be weird for just two of the four of us to go without a good reason for the other two to not go. So it probably turned into a group vacation thingy as a result of that.

    That doesn''t matter, as all it means is that I get to go up to the ranches again, and probably for longer than a day!

    "Seriously?" I ask.

    "Seriously," she answers. "We''ll need to sort out the ''when'', since their schedules aren''t that flexible and they still want to do their annual camping trip with everyone ¨C and yes, I''m fine with you going on that ¨C but we''ll be renting some hotel rooms as a group, with one for you boys."

    "Can I stay at Tate''s?" I ask. "That''s where I stayed when I spent the week there."

    "Can he?" Tate asks as soon as I finish speaking.

    Even he wants me to!

    "Please?" I ask.

    "We''ll have to see," Aunt Rachel says. "We can talk about that more later, but maybe towards the end of the trip."

    "Yes!" I tackle her for a hug. "Thank you, Aunt Rachel! Thank you thank you thank you!"

    "Sig!" She laughs. "You''re getting me all wet!"

    I tilt my head down and start rubbing it against her, since my hair''s definitely going to still be holding water. That just makes her laugh more as she tries to push me away.

    "Go get your ice cream, Sig!"

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Hey, Mom," I poke my head into her office. "I''m gonna stop here for today. I''ve made good progress on the generator, so it''ll probably be ready for production and sale by the end of next week."

    Today was really good for cleaning up the magitech and enchantments, but it''s nearly two-thirty in the afternoon now and I''ve been working since six in the morning with only brief breaks for food. Breaks my parents made sure happen because I was a bit too into my work to remember on my own.

    Finishing up for the day now is probably better or I might be here not just the rest of the day, but all night, too!

    "Alright," she says. "Are you heading home?"

    "Maybe," I answer. "Xavier''s going to take me there, but I might see if Xander wants to go shopping. I really wanna do try finding a new outfit style, I just don''t like this one anymore."

    "Good luck," she says. "And remember not to push if he says ''no''. There weren''t classes because he was overwhelmed, so he probably will."

    He''d probably decline even if he weren''t, but it doesn''t hurt to try!

    "See you tonight!" I tell her.

    "See you," she says. "Love you, sweetie."

    "Love you!" I wave, then head downstairs to Xavier''s car.

    He takes me to Xander''s house, and the guard at the gate calls in something, then lets me through after getting a response. At the front door, I''m greeted by Frank, the head of Trey''s personal security.

    "Xander was taking a nap," Frank tells me. "So he''s up in his room now. If he doesn''t answer when you knock, he''s likely still asleep so don''t push."

    "Yes, sir!" I salute, then head up to Xander''s room and knock on the door.

    I can feel Xander''s electrical signals and they''re located in the location I''m pretty sure his bed is, so he probably is asleep. Since I sometimes stay in bed after waking up, I wait a little bit just in case Xander does that, too.

    After about thirty seconds, Xander''s electrical signal shifts a little, then again, then again. It''s just moving to the side, but then it moves up. He''s awake!

    I don''t know what Xander does but it takes him a full minute after getting up to get to the door. When he opens it, he''s wearing shorts and a t-shirt that''s on backwards. Not one of his usual long-sleeved shirts but a regular short-sleeved one. Trenton is clutched against his chest while he gives me a sleepy-but-confused look.

    Oh! He was putting on a shirt and that''s why it took him so long! Though I guess he''s sleepy enough that it took him a minute to actually do it.

    Wait, he sleeps wearing just shorts? That seems so unlike him. I thought he slept in full pajamas, including long sleeves and even socks, too! He must be really comfortable when he''s alone, then.

    "Oh," he rubs an eye. "Hi Luke. I was taking a nap."

    "Did I wake you?" I ask. "Sorry! I didn''t mean to knock that loud! It was supposed to be softer in case you were still asleep, since Frank said you were taking a nap. Do you want to go clothes shopping with me? You don''t have to buy anything, I just want to go clothes shopping but I don''t like going by myself. It''s always good to have a second opinion! Parker''s in a bad mood for some weird reason and doesn''t want to hang out so I why are you putting Trenton in front of your face?"

    "Because saying someone''s noisy is rude."

    "You can always tell me if I''m being noisy!" I tell him. "So anyway, I was thinking I could ask you to come with me instead! I know you don''t like hanging out with me, but I thought it wouldn''t hurt to ask! So what do you say? Want to go clothes shopping with me?"

    Xander lowers Trenton and stares at me for a few seconds.

    "It takes you a bit to wake up fully, doesn''t it?" I ask.

    "Sometimes."

    "Parker drinks coffee to deal with that," I tell him. "But I don''t recommend it. I''m pretty sure it''s not good for youth. I read that it stunts your growth, too! When I''m feeling tired and it''s taking me time to wake up but I need to wake up, I like to do martial arts to wake up! Or go for a run! You might see me going for a job in the mornings sometimes."

    "I don''t have a view of the street from this room."

    "Oh! I guess you wouldn''t!" I say. "Okay. Well, do you want to come? Or do you want to go back to your nap?"

    "I need to ask Mr. Trey if I can go."

    Xander closes the door. Well, it''s to be expected he''d decline. I was making the offer just in case and-wait. Did he say that he needs to ask Mr. Trey if he can go? Xander''s actually agreeing to hang out with me?

    On a day he''s feeling overwhelmed?

    This is awesome! That means Xander''s liking me enough now, right? I might be getting another friend!

    Do I just stay here and wait for him? I''ll stay here and wait for him.

    Xander comes out of his room after five more minutes, now dressed in a green long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and black socks, and he has a new-looking backpack on his shoulders. Trenton is hugged against his chest.

    "Is that a new backpack?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "I need to find my shoes."

    His shoes are located at the back door in the dining room and once he''s pulled them on, we head to the car.

    "Are you feeling better now?" I ask. "Mom and Dad said your classes were getting canceled because you were feeling overwhelmed. Apart from Wednesday''s, which was because you were at a sleepover."

    "The sleepover was done by the time classes would have started," Xander tells me. "I was helping clean a backyard. Mostly, I helped with the shed and then cleaning the siding for the house."

    "Oh, cool!" I say. "Since there weren''t classes yesterday and today, I helped out at work. Did some work on a bigger generator yesterday, then built a robot that uses a lightning sword and a lightning gun! Dad made a robot of his own and we dueled them, but I lost all three rounds. I might be a genius, but he has enough experience to know what I''m going to do and add in countermeasures! Today, I worked more on the generator you helped me out with!"

    "You said it''s optimization stuff now?" Xander asks.

    He''s actually interested in this?

    "Yeah!" I nod. "So it''s things like final tweaks to the alloy formula, making sure the enchantment lines are right, the formula used for the enchantment solution is right, seeing if there are places we can reduce the size of something or if altering the size by a little bit will actually boost it, ensuring there''s no bad magitech or magic interference via testing and consistent use, and so on. We sometimes have to change the shape of something. Most of them are just minor things that could technically be ignored."

    I go on about some of the stuff, Xander occasionally asking a question. We''re at the clothing store I asked Xavier to take us to when I realize Xander''s wearing a pair of green earplugs. He can still hear me just fine though, so I don''t know what they''re for.

    We go into the clothing store and I start looking at different clothes. Xander seems really bored and doesn''t give me much feedback even when I ask him directly. I think he''s scared to say something looks bad, but it''s so easy to tell when he doesn''t like an outfit because he suddenly has a slight look of concern.

    Very slight. I have to pay close attention to his face to actually notice. It''s a nice face. I bet once he''s older, he''ll have a lot of people wanting to ask him out.

    "What about you?" I ask after not finding any outfit types that I feel comfortable in, and I try on at least two dozen of them. "Can you think of something I might look good in?"

    "Jeans."

    "Aren''t those for poor people?"

    Xander looks at his legs and I get reminded that he wears jeans. Crap. That''s probably going to upset him that I called him poor.

    "But I can try on a pair!" I say. "Do you have any you recommend?"

    "Um¡­" Xander looks around. "Over here."

    He takes me to a jeans wall and points at some, and I examine them and pull out a pair. They''re dark blue jeans with "boot cut" legs, whatever that means.

    "Give me just a minute to try them on," I tell him, then we head to the changing rooms.

    In the changing rooms, I change into the jeans and check my reflection in the mirror. Tuck in my shirt, too. It''s a pink button-up right now and once it''s tucked in¡­

    I actually like this look. A lot. Xander was probably just going with what he knows, but I think I like the look of me in jeans and a button-up. How does that work? I''m not poor at all and these only cost $50.

    This is so weird.

    I change back into my regular pants, then go to the jeans wall and grab a few more pairs listed in my size, then try them on. One thing I''ve learned over the years is to always try on every pair of pants, don''t just assume they''ll fit right just because their listed size is mine.

    "Alright, Xander!" I say after exiting the changing rooms wearing the last pair for me to check. "What do you think? How do I look? Does the outfit work for me?"

    "Yes," he nods. "I think you look very nice in those."

    "Cool!" I change back into my regular pants and take the jeans I tried on up to the registers. "I might change outfits against in another week, but thanks for helping me today, Xander! Parker usually does this, but he''s in a weird mood for some reason. Wanna thump him but gotta wait ''till he''s ready to hang out again."

    "You''re welcome," Xander says.

    "Do you want to get something to eat?" I ask as we get into the car after I pay. "It''s not time for dinner yet but we could get dessert or something."

    "Ms. Katie''s making a blueberry pie for me," Xander tells me. "So I want to go back to Mr. Trey''s now. I have a question, though."

    "Sure!"

    "After classes on Monday," he says. "Can you show me how you make robots? Or does that take too long?"

    "Sure!" I answer. "I''d love to show you how I build them! That''s what I''d intended this past Monday, but we got side-tracked! Just a robot, or something like a remote-controlled car?"

    "Whichever you prefer," he tells me. "Though I was hoping to compare your method to Greyson''s and he likes doing remote-controlled cars and planes."

    "I can do a remote-controlled car!" I say. "Can bring the stuff with me to the lessons so I can do it there, if you''re okay with that!"

    "Mr. Trey already said it''s okay," he says. "I asked him when I asked about going to the store with you."

    "Oh, cool!" I say.

    "Also," he opens up his backpack and pulls something out of it, a sphere with triangular markings covering it. "Would you be willing to play with this for a bit and tell me what you think of it?"

    I accept the sphere from him and examine it. The triangles all seem to be the same size, and they fit together nicely, with a seam around the center where only bottoms connect.

    "What is it?" I ask.

    "A puzzle sphere," he answers. "Simplified. Grip each half in a different hand and twist in opposite directions, and it''ll reset the puzzle."

    I do as he instructs, and the triangles begin to move. Some of them rise up a quarter of an inch, some of them sink down a quarter of an inch, and many of them rotate one hundred eighty degrees. That causes some of them to overlap each other as well, and the way they rotated and rose/sunk ensured that there weren''t any pieces that smashed into each other. A faint blue glow emits from within the depths of the sphere as well.

    "That''s so cool!" I exclaim. "Where did you get this? Did your friend make it? Greyson, was it? How does it do all of that?"

    "I made it," Xander says. "It''s a puzzle sphere. The goal is to get it back to its starting state. The one where all of the pieces are fit together properly with no gaps. This is a simplified version, and the pieces can either go up or go down one level at a time, and rotate one side to flip it around. You can only move one piece at a time, and only in one way. Each time you move a piece, all of the other pieces will adjust in some way. The glow will get a little bit brighter if it was a wrong move, and a little bit dimmer if it was a right move.

    "Once you get used to it," he says. "You should be able to tell how many moves it''ll take if every move is a correct one based on the glow, as its brightness is determined by that. Or at least, should be. I''m not sure if I did that bit right, it''s my first time trying to do it that way."

    So it''s sort of like a Rubik''s cube? That''s pretty cool!

    "You made this?" I ask.

    "Yeah," he answers. "A simplified version of others. There''s a pattern to how they move, and that pattern varies from reset to reset. Since I helped you with picking an outfit, can you help me with knowing if this works and is fun?"

    "Sure!" I answer.

    "Oh," he adds. "But be careful. It''s made out of weaker materials and I know mages can be pretty strong. I didn''t want it to cost more than $50."

    "Sure!" I answer, then start playing with it.

    The rest of the ride to Xander''s place, I try to solve the puzzle. I manage to figure out some of the ways the pieces move but I''m sure there are quite a lot more for me to handle. Xander gives me a short goodbye before leaving, then Xavier takes me home.

    Only once I''m in my room do I realize what Xander did. He didn''t agree to come hang out with me because he''s warming up to me. It was a plan of his to do an exchange of help, which he even slipped in a mention of when asking me for it.

    I''m not sure if I should be offended or amused that he gave me the puzzle sphere at the start of the ride back. That was definitely so I didn''t talk his ear off! But this thing is fun! I think I''m going to play with it until dinner and hope that once I get used to it, I can solve it much faster.

 Chapter 0055

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    And when the muffins shoot dead, all the ugly monsters, the baby muffins sleep in peace at night. And when the baby muffins, sleep in peace at night, they dream of bigger muffins loading up their guns.

    "Oh! Hi, Xander!" I wave to Xander upon spotting him in my workshop. "Didn''t you go home earlier?"

    "I returned to the house for lunch," Xander looks over, wearing a pair of black-framed sports sunglasses with green-tinted lenses. "Took a nap, then spent some time with Luke. Mr. Trey said it was okay to come back here. Did you spend the entire day bug-hunting?"

    I''m back in my bug-hunting gear and am holding a bug cage with mithrilhorn beetles in it. It''s not just their horns which are made of mithril, they have it in place of chitin as well, but the horns are what they were named after. It gives them a silvery-blue look and is the reason I wanted them as the metal is pretty useful in a lot of different weapons and magitech. Grandfather Adrian is being too strict on some of the materials and wouldn''t give me mithril.

    So I hunted some mithrilhorn beetles after introducing the Cals to the wonderful taste of mindwave beef. The little bit of the metal in these beetles is all I should need right now.

    "I did," I tell him. "With lunch at home. Oh, but I met your friend S.G. I''ve seen him around before but he looked bored this time, so I talked to him."

    "Yeah," Xander pulls off the sunglasses and puts on his normal glasses. "He told me you gave him one of the spheres. Did I put two on your desk, or did you give him the only one you had?"

    "You did," I tell him. "So I''ve got a second one."

    "Okay," Xander says. "So I don''t need to make another, then¡­ I got mixed up and put two on your desk and one in my backpack."

    Silly Xander and his need to make things in threes if he wants a copy for himself and one for me.

    "I bet it''ll take him months to solve it," I say.

    "About nine minutes."

    "That''s not fair!"

    "I made another one," Xander looks around for a moment, then gets up and grabs a sphere from a shelf. "Here. I gave one to Luke and he says he likes it. He''s apparently been playing with it a lot."

    I teleport the container of mithrilhorn beetles back into my backpack, then approach Xander and reach out to accept the sphere from him.

    "Please be careful with it," Xander says. "It''s made of cheaper materials since I didn''t want it to cost more than $50."

    Why would he be concerned about that? He''s never concerned about money when it comes to what he''s tinkering with here, since the stuff in his zone is his. I even convinced Grandfather Adrian to put some stuff in there for Xander with a note that it''s from him and Xander can use it however he wants.

    I accept the sphere from him and he teaches me how to turn it on, then I start fiddling with the triangles as I try to solve it.

    "This one''s easy," I tell him after a few minutes, the sphere back to its neutral state. "I like the last one better. How come it''s so easy?"

    "Because it''s meant to be on the easier side."

    "But why?" I ask. "Oh! Did you make it as a fidget sphere for yourself? But that''ll be bad once you start really building strength, now that your mana''s able to recover properly. You''ll probably end up even stronger than me."

    "It''s not for me," Xander''s cheeks turn pink and I can feel the shyness over whatever the reason is emanating out of him.

    Probably best not to push it, he gets even quieter if I do when he''s embarrassed or shy about something. That''s disappointing because I really want to know why he made the sphere of inferior materials this time. But if he''s shy enough about the cause that it''s emanating out of him, he might get upset if I push things and I don''t want him yelling at me.

    Nobody likes getting yelled at.

    "Does it change its algorithm every time?" I ask.

    "No," Xander answers. "I designed it to always have specific reactions, but to randomize the pieces when it resets. Once you figure out how to solve it, you''ll always know how. So I guess it''s kind of like a fidget sphere? But still a puzzle. Normal puzzles have a set way to do them each time, too."

    That''s fair.

    "Cool," I say. "Those are some neat sunglasses. What are you enchanting them with?"

    Xander always obfuscates his enchantments, so I can''t tell at all what he''s doing with them.

    "They''re not really sunglasses," Xander tells me. "I borrowed your lens-making machine, sorry."

    "I''ve told you before," I tell him. "You can use any of my machines. But if they''re not sunglasses, how come they''re tinted?"

    "Here," Xander picks up the not-sunglasses and hands them to me.

    I give him back the puzzle sphere as I accept the not-sunglasses and pull them on, the world surprisingly clear despite the lenses'' green tint. There''s some sort of indicator in my vision, a blinking icon which stays in a fixed location when I look at it, in the upper-right of my field of vision when I look straight ahead. Only when I try to smack it do I realize that it''s from the glasses.

    The moment I tap on the icon in my vision, it disappears and several others appear. Some of them come with text, some of them don''t. One of them is a line going from Xander with "Non-Player" at the other end.

    "You''re not a player?" I ask. "Wait! Didn''t you make goggles yesterday, not glasses?"

    "I wanted to try making them as glasses," Xander tells me. "That''s why I came back. I was checking the game program when you got here, but I also made it so it can go into a pause setting when you take them off. That''s what the indicator was for."

    He must have adapted the enchantment and magitech for a smaller system so that there aren''t thick goggles that he''d be wearing as he plays with them. That''s really not that hard to do, I could manage it as well once I have the basic enchantments and magitech down. It probably took him less than an hour to reduce the size.

    "There aren''t any zombies," I look around. "Weren''t you asking about zombie stuff?"

    "The game isn''t on," Xander tells me. "I was just trying to make sure it loaded. There''s still a lot to do to make them ready."

    "Can I play?" I ask. "It sounds fun!"

    "All you know is that there are zombies¡­"

    "Can I? Can I? Can I?"

    Xander grabs a gun-looking toy from his desk and holds it out.

    "This is synced to the glasses," he tells me. "The game''s zombies only take damage from shots from the right things, like this. But there really aren''t any features for the game yet other than shooting zombies and them dying. I was trying to make sure I didn''t mess anything up when I changed it from big goggles to the glasses. Took me almost two hours today¡­"

    Two hours? Not one? I guess he was being extra careful.

    "That''s fine!" I take the gun. "I promise I won''t break things! I''m really good at controlling my strength, which is why I can wrestle with Kale and not hurt him."

    "Kale?" Xander frowns. "Did you mean Cal?"

    "Yeah, but the other Cal," I tell him. "Cal''s boyfriend''s name is also Cal, so I call him Kale and other stuff. Sometimes, if he shows up and Cal isn''t around, he''ll wrestle with me. He doesn''t care that he can''t win against me, too, so I don''t have to pretend to lose, either!"

    Xander suddenly looks scared.

    "You wrestle with an older boy?"

    Oh. He must be thinking of what his former foster-brother did.

    "He''s not like that," I tell him. "He''s like a big brother to me and it''s brotherly wrestling. I''ve heard plenty of guy friends roughhouse as well, though I wouldn''t know."

    Mostly because I don''t have any friends other than Xander and he''s very non-physical. Wrestling with Kale is fun, though, because he doesn''t get upset even though he knows I''m way stronger than him so he has no chance. He''s even let me peek into his mind so I know he''s not got any bad motives.

    Though we aren''t telling Cal about that. Cal would probably freak out if he knew I went into other people''s minds, especially his boyfriend''s. It''s not like I was looking at his memories, just his intentions. Kale thinks of me like a little brother and that''s it.

    I doubt there would be anything sensitive in Kale''s mind, anyway. He''s an ordinary sixteen-year-old, it''s not like he and Cal are trying to change the world like I''m attempting. There won''t be any secrets in there, just memories of the two of them snuggling on the couch while watching TV, or going out for dinner, or to the park.

    Would Kale let me peek at his memories if I asked? He probably would, he seems pretty cool.

    "I can guarantee that Kale is fine," I tell Xander, who still looks uncertain. "I''m gonna play now!"

    "Okay," Xander says. "I might do some updates for the game while you play."

    I turn around and navigate the menu to find out how to turn on the game, and Xander moves one of his laptops in front of him to start doing something on there. For some reason, he''s got two of the magitech programming laptops I made for him open on his workbench. Only one is the norm for him, but I guess the game program requires two for some reason.

    Hopefully, the updates are ready soon enough for me to get to play with it. It''s not like scientech dev where there''s a lot more effort required for even smaller updates. Magitech games can be updated pretty fast once you know what you''re doing.

    Zombies begin appearing in my vision, coming out from behind shelves or the mega computer or crates or other stuff. They all have a line with "Game Zombie" attached to them, probably Xander''s way of "avoiding lying" with the game.

    I shoot at one of the virtual zombies but miss, the visual laser bullet slamming into the wall and vanishing. He must not have added in stuff like damage to the environment yet.

    It takes me a minute to get used to firing the fake gun and once I do, I''m able to hit the visual zombies once out of every three shots. This is so different than I was expecting, but it''s probably just my shooting skills. A mage such as myself has no need of a gun as we can create and fire bullets with magic alone.

    "Whoops?" I giggle a little after a bullet I create with my magic slams into a wall of the building with a loud bang!

    Fortunately, I''ve enchanted the entire building for extra durability so the bullet didn''t do any damage. Xander let out a startled shout, though, so I turn to look at him¡­ and he immediately jerks back and falls out of his seat.

    "Oh my gosh!" I teleport over. "Sorry, Xander! I didn''t mean to scare you! I just wanted to see what would happen if I shot them with a real bullet and forgot I was inside!"

    Xander''s clutching his chest and breathing really hard. He fell out of the chair after I turned around, but it''s not like he could see what the glasses are showing me, which is him being chewed on by zombies. It looks soooo funny, but I better not say it as he''s already startled enough as it is.

    What caused him to jerk backwards and fall, though?

    "Are you okay?"

    "J-just give me a moment to calm down, please," Xander says. "And, um¡­ can you take off the glasses?"

    "Sure!" I take them off. "I really didn''t mean to scare you, that was pretty loud. I should''ve tried it outside."

    That would''ve been the logical thing to do even if no one else was around. For being one of the smartest people in the world, I sure can be dumb at times.

    Xander gets up after a few more moments and I offer him the glasses.

    "You can keep playing if you want," Xander tells me. "I''m just trying to do some updates for the game until Mr. Trey lets me know it''s times to come home for dinner. He''s running late but I wanted to eat with him, so Ms. Katie''s delaying dinner until he''s home."

    "Oh, okay," I say.

    It''s not like he''s holding off eating, though. While I can''t see any cantaloupe, I could smell it a minute ago. Could hear the container opening and closing, too. Even hear him chewing due to how good my hearing is, but I try not to pay attention to stuff like that.

    Sometimes, it''s a curse, but it''s one I try to work on.

    "I''ll go outside and play!" I tell him. "You should make it so real attacks work on the zombies, too. That''d be so much fun!"

    I teleport outside, put the glasses back on, unpause the game, and start shooting the zombies which come out of the forest. After a few minutes, the amount of zombies appearing septuples and nearly overwhelms me, but that only lasts two minutes and I''m able to take them all out before the increase stops and it reduces down to a little bit less than the spawn rate from before the sudden increase.

    That must have been a bonus stage! Xander even put those in? That''s so cool! Shame there''s not a point system yet, I bet I would''ve gotten a ton of points for my speed!

    About ten minutes after the bonus stage ends, the zombies suddenly get health bars. They''re red and start at 50/50, and my bullets do 1 HP''s worth of damage at that point. Too little! Too little! Why did I suddenly get nerfed?

    The gun won''t shoot fast enough! The gun won''t shoot fast enough! The gun won''t-

    Oh, now they''re doing 20 HP''s worth of damage per hit.

    This is so weird. I guess I hit a new stage of the game and Xander did something weird with the magics. Over the next four minutes, the damage values seem to change but be consistent ¨C the bullets all do one amount of damage until the next hit. At one point, they start doing 50 damage with each shot.

    That only lasts four minutes until I hit the next stage, when the bullets do between 1 and 20 HP''s worth of damage per hit. It seems random at first, but I figure out after about ten minutes that it depends on where I hit the zombies. It didn''t seem that way to start with but I guess I just wasn''t paying enough attention.

    "Ooh!"

    A new stage! The zombies now have varying amounts of HP, from 45-55! It''s not a big range, but after about ten minutes, there starts to be a difference in HP from zombie type to zombie type.

    Xander''s game uses three of the zombie model groups I had in my database: ordinary person, beefcake, and soldier. When I reach the stage where there are varying HP levels between types, the ordinary zombies have 40-60 HP, the soldiers have 80-100, and beefcakes have 190-210.

    "Now we''re talking!" I exclaim.

    With the beefcakes having so much HP, I have to move around a lot to avoid them as I take them and the others down. This makes it way more fun and I''m glad I played until I got to this stage!

    Dodge! Roll! Jump! Backflip! Shoot while doing a triple backflip! Shoot the-

    "Aah!" I shout in surprise when I realize I just aimed the gun at Xander.

    I was so into this game that I didn''t even register that the person I noticed behind me wasn''t part of the game¡­ which doesn''t give feelings of things coming up behind me.

    "Sorry, Xander!" I say. "Though I guess shooting you doesn''t earn points."

    "You don''t get points for shooting anything yet¡­"

    "Fair," I say.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "And you shouldn''t get points for shooting me," Xander says. "Mr. Trey said he''s home now and dinner''s going to be soon, so I need to get going. Can I have the glasses back, please?"

    "Awww!" I whine. "I wanted to play with the updates you were going to do!"

    "I did them while you were playing," Xander tells me. "Grandpa Adrian told me this morning that I shouldn''t have the game on the goggles but on another thing, uploaded to the goggles or accessed by the goggles. It was on my laptop, and that let me update it while you were playing."

    "So those weren''t stages?" I ask. "That was you updating it?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods. "Sorry for boosting the spawn rates, that was an accident. I was trying to decrease it a little for the bigger zombies and accidentally boosted the rate for all of them, then reduced them all. Figuring out how to alter the runic matrices for that is going to take me a little bit longer. I think I figured it out after adjusting the HP values. And I still need to finish the AR system, too, but that''s in the goggles and glasses so I actually need them in front of me to work on them. Did you like the game stuff so far?"

    "Yeah!" I nod. "Wait! I just realized, but the glasses didn''t fall off while I was doing flips and stuff!"

    "I wanted to make sure they wouldn''t fall off by accident," Xander says. "Since there''s not a strap around the back like my sports sunglasses have, so I enchanted them to stay on unless purposely removed."

    "That''s really cool!" I hand him the glasses. "Oh! I wanted to let you know, but I won''t be here next week or the one after."

    "You won''t?"

    "Nah," I say. "I''m too smart for regular schools and now that Grandfather Adrian is in my life, he wants me to go to this special school for gifted kids. Sunday, Papa''s going to drive me to it for its testing. All students go through a week of testing in July to determine what classes are best for them to take. New students have to do two weeks of testing since the academy don''t already have a baseline knowledge of where we''re at. I was assured that there would be plenty of fun stuff in addition to the testing, so I probably won''t get too bored when not in a test. I''ll probably come back home next weekend just for fun, or come here via teleport in the evenings, but I don''t know for sure."

    "Okay," Xander says. "Good luck."

    "Thanks!" I tell him. "Grandfather Adrian said some of it will definitely be a challenge for me, so I''m looking forward to it!"

    "Okay," Xander says. "I''m going to get going now. Bye, Greyson."

    I follow him inside so I can get to work on processing the insects I collected today for their parts. For some weird reason, Xander leaves the workshop through the front door after he pulls on his backpack, then he teleports away.

    Is there bad juju for teleporting around inside the workshop? I can''t think of another reason for why he wouldn''t teleport from within, so there might be. I''ll need to investigate to make sure nothing is affecting things and if there is, then I''ll need to eliminate it.

    That comes before processing the insects for sure.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts during Greyson''s PoV

    The classroom I enter is filled with boys and girls between ten and seventeen years of age, who give me an "oh, just another guest" look when I enter. Most of them do, at any rate.

    "Aren''t you Lucas Gates?" One of the girls a few years older than me asks. "You sit in on these?"

    This is a class the local college is hosting, an evening lesson on magitech and enchanting for adolescents interested in learning about it. The collage hosts workshops like this regularly to give kids a chance to see if it''s something they''re interested in, or to learn more about things which they are.

    This classroom is used specifically for some of those so we aren''t repurposing a professor''s classroom. Each student is at a lab desk-style table, with two stools for seats at each. The tables are empty right now, but only because the instructor is supposed to supply the materials for this lesson.

    "No," I answer as I walk over to the instructor''s desk, then pull off the duffel bag I had slung across my body from my left shoulder. "My dad was the one who was going to teach it, but he asked if I wanted to tonight instead."

    "You?" Another girl a few years older than me asks. "But you''re, like, ten."

    Condescending much? I look my age for sure so saying I look ten isn''t from being a bad judge of age unless you''re absolutely shitty at it. Her tone comes off as condescending, too.

    It''s a tone and expression I''m too familiar with.

    "I''m thirteen and will be entering the eighth grade next month," I say. "I''m also the son of Tristan and Melody Gates, the owners of Gatewood Energy. Just this morning, I was working on one of our upcoming products. I''ve taught more than a dozen classes on magitech basics in the last year and a half and actually have a product I designed and built myself coming to market by the time school starts. There are numerous articles written about my magitech genius."

    I snap and the door to the classroom closes, startling a few of the students here. The snap and telekinesis wasn''t really necessary but it''s easy to tell most of these kids aren''t really mages in the first place. Showing a basic use of telekinesis in such a casual manner as that will get their attention a little bit more than what I said.

    As will the duffel bag as I use it due to its nature, which is enchanted with security measures to ensure no one steals it as there is the chance someone will try after they learn what type of bag it is. The law allows for up to a certain degree of protective and anti-theft enchantments for certain types of magical items, and ones with spatial expansion enchantments are among those.

    "Today''s lesson is for making a magitech lamp," I open up my bag and pull out two cubes. "And the difference between that and a magic lamp."

    Each cube is four inches on each side with a white shell. One of them has four stubby little feet while the other lacks any feet. I set both on the desk.

    "Who here can tell me the difference between a magic item and a magitech item?" I ask.

    There are forty others in here, every single table taken up. Most of them raise their hands, so I''m hopeful that someone can give me a proper answer.

    "You," I point at the girl who recognized me.

    "Magic items cast spells and magitech items are tech that use magical energy for power," she answers.

    "Anyone have a different answer?" I ask, and only two hands go up this time. I point at a boy who looks about ten. "You?"

    "Magitech has moving parts and magic items don''t!"

    "Alright," I say. "Anyone else?"

    No one does.

    "Either you''ve had bad instructors or you''re all new to this," I say. "Magic items are items that are imbued with enchantments. You can power them directly, with a mana battery, or with a magic crystal. They''re fairly simple in concept and often in execution, and generally-speaking, they can only come in two types: those that are always on, or those which can turn on or off. That latter part can be through some sort of trigger, such as the detection of another magic or by pushing a button. They''re the ones which require an active power source.

    "Not all magic items do," I reach into the bag and pull out a four-inch sphere which is glowing with a yellow light. "You can put an enchantment on an item and never give it a power source. Those are generally enchantment spells, but not always. This sphere is one example of an always-on spell without a power source. The enchantment itself makes it glow. There''s no fuel going into it, no active mana or energy source for it. It simply glows."

    "How?" A boy about my age asks. "Doesn''t it need power?"

    "It''s magic," I say. "Not science. Things can happen which don''t need a logical explanation. I enchanted this sphere to glow, so it''ll glow until the enchantment itself wears out or is broken by something."

    I set the sphere down and it stays without rolling. That''s because of another enchantment that''s on the sphere, which I placed on it after the first time I used it for one of these lessons. Or rather, during the lesson, since it was fairly quick and easy to put on.

    Next, I pull a small stand out of the bag and set it down. This stand resembles a one-inch holder for a tapered candle, which is what the item I pull out of my bag next looks like. It lacks a wick and has a waxy white color to it, but it''s made of a cheap enchanting materials.

    "This, on the other hand," I imbue some mana into the tapered rod and it begins to glow with a faint yellow color. "Requires an active mana source. Right now, I''m directly giving it mana through my hand. It''s designed to be able to receive said mana at the base like this. And the stand I put down?"

    I cut my flow of mana and the glow stops, but returns when I socket the rod into the stand.

    "There''s a small mana battery inside," I say. "Which will last about forty hours with how little mana the rod requires. Useful in a power outage, on the rare chance that will happen, or if you''re out camping."

    All of the other kids in here are looking at the rod with interest now.

    "My preference is this cube," I tap the one without legs twice and it begins to glow. Several pairs of eyes widen. "It might seem like magitech at first, but it''s actually a magic item. The enchantment''s trigger is simply the cube getting tapped twice by a person. In other words, it''s an ''on or off'' enchantment.

    "Though this one''s actually a bit more sophisticated than that," I chuckle, then touch and hold on the side facing the students for three seconds, and only that face turns off. "It has conditions which allow you to turn off specific sides, and it won''t have on any side that''s covered or blocked."

    I touch and hold the front of it for three seconds and the light comes back on. Then, I slide a finger along one of the edges, and the entire thing dims. I slide my finger in the opposite direction and it brightens.

    "It''s also designed to let you adjust how strong the glow is," I say. "By doing that, it''ll use less magic and last longer. Same with turning off sides or having it so any side that''s covered is off. In the end, however, the entire thing is just a piece of really sophisticated enchanting."

    "Isn''t that magitech?" One of the girls about my age asks.

    "No," I answer. "Because it''s purely enchantments at work here. This is one of the more sophisticated pieces of magic items in some regards, but it''s still just a magic item. There''s a singular enchantment on this cube which determines everything: which faces glow, how to know when to be on or off, how to know how bright to be, and so on."

    From my bag, I pull out a wooden cube that''s four inches on each side, the faces all polished.

    "This is just a solid block of wood," I toss it to one of the kids. "Pass it around. Examine it. Don''t try to break it, but see if you can open it up."

    The kids pass it around for a few minutes, and when it returns to me, I pull out an inscribing pen and begin drawing on the surface of the cube. As I do, the pen leaves behind silver markings which show the runes and connections I leave in place. Since I want this part to be a little bit fast, I use some of my more real level of speed to draw. At this higher speed, it takes me about three minutes to finish the enchantment, which spreads across all six faces of the cube.

    Upon completion, the enchantment vanishes.

    "And now," I set the cube down and tap it twice. The cube begins to glow with a green light. "I''ve made a magic item. It''s the exact same enchantment as on the other cube, except with green light instead of yellow. If I don''t set the color, it would be pure white. Yes?"

    The younger boy who''d raised his hand puts it down.

    "So you can make it any color?" He asks.

    "Yup!" I answer. "As long as you know the runes which can tailor it, at least. Yes?"

    "Why did the enchantment disappear?" The older girl I called on asks.

    "Habit on my part," I answer. "A lot of beginners don''t know how to make their enchantments not visible, but it adds an extra layer of protection to the secrecy of the enchantment, if you want such a thing. This doesn''t need it and you can actually get the enchanting formula for the cube off the internet. I add in an obfuscation aspect as well so that scanners can''t just pick up what the enchantment is."

    I move both of the glowing cubes to the side and center the final item on the desk.

    "This last item," I say. "Is a piece of magitech. Magitech is tech that uses magic. Essentially, an attempt at replicating scientific processes via magic, drawing on the magical laws rather than the scientific ones to operate."

    An important distinction, since the magic laws can seem scientific at first until magic decides it doesn''t actually want to follow them and do its own thing for some reason ¨C such as a magitech lamp suddenly changing colors for eighty-seven seconds for no reason.

    Though now I have a question for Xander, if he''s willing to answer. That''s for another time and I should focus on the lesson.

    From my bag, I pull another cube with four stubby legs, identical to the first, and set it down.

    "This is not," I say, then I pick them up and show the bottoms to the group. "You can see the button on each, yes?"

    The kids all confirm they can.

    "Well," I set the cubes down. "One of these, the trigger for activation or deactivation is being touched in a specific spot. This one," I tap the second one. "Is that one. The button simply acts as the source of that touch ¨C you press the button and it touches the designated part of the cube."

    I turn it on, then scoot it to the side and touch the final one.

    "This one is magitech," I say. "There''s actual technology involved, but it''s tech made with magic. In this case, there are moving parts as well, but that''s not an always thing. Some magitech doesn''t need moving parts, like a screen for a computer or in virtual reality goggles.

    "For this cube," I say. "The five non-bottom walls are made of a material which, when imbued with mana, makes them glow. On the bottom here," I lift it up. "You''ll see the button. It triggers the ''on''. If you look closely ¨C I''ll pass it around in a sec ¨C you''ll note a plus sign of squares. The center one represents the top, and the other four represent the sides they''re pointing toward. Underneath is a rectangle. If you tap one of those five twice in a row, it''ll turn that side off. If you tap it once and then slide your finger along the rectangle, it''ll adjust the brightness of that one. If you tap and hold one, it''ll reset the face to its default lighting.

    "How this works," I toss the cube to one of the kids so they can examine it. "Is by magitech. While that seems simple and not much different as the glow cubes, it''s more like a lamp than that. It''s drawing on a power source ¨C a mana battery inside ¨C and you adjust how much mana is flowing from it into the different faces, and it''s done through different aspects and materials."

    "Does that mean that if you took the light rod and mana battery and made them a single item," one of the older boys asks. "It''d be magitech?"

    Dad probably wants me to teach things like this more often because it''s good at helping me hide my aggravation at certain things. Questions like that are frustrating because the lines between things can get blurred and deeper questions can result in more confusion than answers.

    Magic is as magic wants, after all.

    "Sometimes, yes," I answer. "Depending on how it''s done. But honestly? That would often be considered pseudo-magitech, where it''s technically not but can be seen as such. The term is generally for more complex processes beyond just fueling an enchantment. Magitech can be viewed, in simple terms, as technology which results from interacting magical processes rather than just happening, with or without fuel."

    Just don''t ever try to give that as an absolute answer to any proper magitech engineer, as it''s not fully correct even if it''s mostly correct. Magitech isn''t something which can be fully defined simply because magic itself can''t be.

    "Once you''re done looking at the lamps," I say. "I''ll show you how to make one."

    I give the class three more of the magitech lamps so that they can each look at one more quickly. The desks are in rows of four, so the lamp cubes just go backwards rather than fully around the room. When they return to me, I turn them all on to their default settings, then set them to the side and start pulling more items out of the bag.

    One of them is a projector which will project a much larger version of what it''s reading into the air above. This is different from a projection table as it''s more like a magnifying glass than a three-dimensional screen and is technically a magic item rather than a piece of magitech. Another is a box which contains everything I need to build a magitech lamp cube.

    Which draws everyone''s attention because the box is taller than the bag it was in and just as wide, so it wouldn''t have fit in the bag without magic doing something. This isn''t a bag I''m allowed to use often, but I''m allowed to for stuff like this class.

    The other kids watch as I walk them through how to build one of the magic lamps, including explaining what each item and tool I use does. This project is a simple one with a low cost as most of it is already prepared for construction ¨C just like if they were to buy a kit for making their own lamp at a store.

    Only maybe with a few more steps, since we have to make sure that not just the parts are connected, but the actual magics are connected as well. That uses a type of inscribing pen suited for the job and is the closest to actually setting enchantments as this comes. All of the magitech lamps in the kits I have will be identical apart from having a choice between three colors, but kits can come with varying colors and sizes.

    "Alright," I say once I finish, then turn it on and the cube begins to glow blue. "And now I''m done. As you can see, each of its functions work as described."

    I demonstrate the various settings, then return it to its default state and set it to the side, then pack the remaining items into the box, which I place into the bag.

    "I went more slowly because I was explaining things," I say. "But as long as you follow the directions, it should take you about twenty to thirty minutes at the most. I''ll be here to help you if you need it, but the kits do have directions as well. Starting at the table in the front to my left, going across the room, then back and across again, repeating, everyone come up and get a kit."

    When the other kids reach me and choose between yellow, green, or blue lights, I pull their boxes out of the duffel bag and hand them over, and the students return to their seats to begin working. I walk between the tables as they work to check what they''re doing and offer advice if anyone needs it.

    "Just focus on doing the cube," I tell one boy, who wants to make it a hexagonal prism instead. He''s about a year older than me, I think. "The control pad is designed for that so a hexagon will have sides which won''t turn on unless you link them to others."

    "So if I did an octagon," he says. "And linked two sides to each part, that''d work?"

    "That would take extra work," I tell him. "Since the control panel is designed for the side squares to be relating to the faces they''re for. You''d have to add in extra parts to get around that and while there''s a little bit extra, there''s not enough and you don''t have a proper cutter for the sides or base. If you want to do octagons, I do know of a couple of stores which sell kits for those. For a basic kit, I''d recommend Gina''s Magitech Hobby Store in Dragon Falls. She''s got good prices for beginners."

    "This class costs three hundred," he shakes his head. "There''s no way I can afford that for more kits, I''d have to spend all the money I earn mowing lawns for, like, three months just to buy one."

    That''s probably how he afforded this class, then.

    "That''s not just for the lamp," I tell him. "That''s for getting a lesson from a professional, but also because you get to keep the tools used. There are only a few of them and they''re all super basic ones, but they cost about $200 together."

    I''m getting paid for teaching this class, $25 per student. The college keeps $25 per, and the other $50 is for the parts for the lamp. The actual lamp parts in the kit are on the higher end of the basic ones, so he won''t have to worry too much about the cost.

    "Basic kits are anywhere between $35 and $50," I tell him. "Still a little expensive, but not insanely. The lamps last a pretty long time, too."

    "Oh, okay," he says. "So I get to keep the tools?"

    "Yup!" I answer, then raise my voice. "Though people who set things on fire not only don''t get to keep the tools or the lamp, but they get banned from participating in future youth workshops here."

    The boy who was attempting to set the directions on fire quickly stops.

    "Alright," I tell this attendee. "Get back to work. And remember: it''s Gina''s Magitech Hobby Store in Dragon Falls, if you''re looking for a good place with beginner kits."

    Dragon Falls is central to all of the towns in the area so I use that as a recommendation when doing these workshops so I don''t have to ask someone where they live. If they can''t get to it, they''ll probably look up something more local. They''re not allowed to actually say where they live, mostly to protect the younger members of the class.

    Sure, some of them probably know each other, but it''s still the rules.

    I resume walking around and talking with the students as they talk and once everyone is done, I pull out the puzzle sphere Xander gave me earlier.

    "If any of you decide to work on magitech as a hobby or even go into a career for it," I say. "There are some pretty amazing things you can do. My family makes generators and runs a power supply company that''s all magitech, there are magitech cars and computers, and there are things like this."

    I twist the two halves to activate the puzzle, then start twisting, pulling, and pushing triangles.

    "It''s a magitech puzzle," I tell the kids as I use a faster speed to solve it while being mindful of its weaker materials. "You have to get all of the triangles to fit together in the middle position like this!"

    With my higher speed, I''m able to solve it just while I talk, and present it to the class once I''m done.

    "A friend of mine made it," I say. "And I''ve seen other types of magitech puzzles. My dad made some for me to play with when I was little as a way of challenging me. You can also make things like this."

    I put the puzzles sphere away and pull out the robot I built this week, setting it on the table. Then, I pull out the controller and begin manipulating the robot, making it draw its sword and do some moves.

    "My dad and I actually dueled with this and one he built," I say. "I lost every time, but it''s super fun! One day, Dad won''t be able to predict what I''m going to put into my robots¡­"

    That earns some laughs from the class, and I flash them all a grin.

    "So yeah," I tell them. "Magitech isn''t limited to just things like computers or lamps, but even fun things like puzzles and robots! And that concludes this class, everyone! Make sure to clean up your trash and take your kits and lamps with you!"

    Some of them stay back to ask questions while the others leave, and once they''re all gone, I pack my things up and leave to meet with Dad, who''s speaking with a magitech professor from the college.

    "All done?" Dad asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "I''m exhausted! Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

    "Sure," Dad snorts. "Did you make sure the room was cleaned and the lights were off?"

    "Yup!" I answer. "It was pretty fun! Thanks for letting me do it instead!"

    "No problem," Dad ruffles my hair. "Glad you had fun. Have a good night, John."

    "Have a good one," he tells Dad. "And you as well, Lucas."

    "It''s Luke now!" I wave to him. "Bye!" I look at Dad as we begin walking down the hall. "Can we get magic ice cream this time? With a lightning affinity?"

    "Sure," he chuckles. "But not enough that you''ll stay up half the night."

    "Awwwwwwww!"

 Chapter 0056

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Good morning, Xander," Ms. Katie greets me as she enters the dining room area. "You''re out here earlier than normal."

    Was that bad? I know I came down even earlier than I did yesterday but maybe I shouldn''t have. Neither Ms. Katie nor Mr. Trey were down here and I''m probably supposed to wait until one of them is down before coming out.

    That was probably one of the rules Mr. Trey gave me when my memory was still not working right and I don''t remember it because of that.

    "Sorry."

    "No need to be sorry," she smiles. "It''s your home, so if you want to come out this early, you can. Trey doesn''t mind."

    I''m a fucking dumbass.

    "Did you want to talk about your dreams?" She asks. "Did you have good ones?"

    She wants to know about my dreams again? But they''re so weird, why would she want to hear about them?

    "I had some bad ones," I tell her. "Mr. Trey woke me up and helped me fall back asleep with Go Fish. Then I had weird ones."

    "What kind of weird?" She asks.

    "The weird kind."

    Ms. Katie laughs and I realize that I probably misunderstood her.

    "I was curious what the dreams were," she tells me.

    Yeah, I misunderstood her. I''m so fucking stupid.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ one of them was a pumpkin wearing a top hat and singing about muffins with machine guns. Is it okay to blame Greyson for that? He was singing about muffins shooting monsters, sometimes with machine guns, yesterday."

    "It''s more than okay to blame him for that," she chuckles. "What else did you dream about?"

    "Dogs, turtles, and S.G."

    "S.G.?" She raises an eyebrow.

    "Yeah," I answer. "He was playing with a dog and a turtle. It was really weird. I don''t normally dream about people even when I have crushes on them and that''s what makes it weird. And the longer the dream went on, the more dogs and turtles showed up! Eventually, S.G. was buried under a pile of them! That was so scary¡­"

    "I can imagine it would be," she says. "Seeing one of your friends get buried under a pile of animals. What was S.G. wearing?"

    Why does she want to know that?

    "Black shorts and a blue sleeveless shirt," I answer. "Um¡­ I''m not sure about shoes, though. I didn''t look at his feet in my dream, probably because I don''t like looking at feet in real life. That''s just one of his normal outfits, though, so it''s nothing special or weird."

    I think he likes blues and greens.

    "I see," she says. "What other weird dreams did you have?"

    I tell Ms. Katie about my weird dreams from last night as she starts looking through ingredients to decide on breakfast.

    "Ms. Katie?" I ask as she goes to pull something out of a cabinet.

    "Yes?" She looks at me.

    "I was going to ask Mr. Trey if it''s okay if I get donuts at Ms. Heidi''s bakery for breakfast," I tell her. "Um¡­ that''s part of why I came down here. So I could let you know. But I don''t know when he normally comes down. If yesterday was a normal time for him, or early, or late¡­ so I came down early just in case. And to let you know in case he''s okay with it, so you don''t make food for me if he does say I can."

    "Oh," she says. "He''s up right now, you can ask him if you want."

    I look around but don''t see Mr. Trey.

    "He''s still in his room," she tells me. "Most likely just scrolling through the news feed on his phone. You can knock on his door. Look me in the eyes, please. He won''t be mad at you if you knock on his door to ask, I promise."

    She''s telling the truth.

    "Okay," I say. "Thanks, Ms. Katie."

    I get off the stool and head up to Mr. Trey''s room, then hesitate. What if Ms. Katie was wrong? If she didn''t know it, then it wouldn''t make my power to know when someone''s lying trigger.

    But I can''t know unless I try. Mr. Trey will probably beat me if I''m wrong, though.

    "Just knock on the door, Xander," Mr. Trey''s voice startles me.

    Oh, no! I was taking too long and now he''s probably mad at me for standing outside his door for however long I was¡­ wait. How did he know I was here? His voice came from inside his room?

    I knock on the door and Mr. Trey opens it, dressed in his pajamas.

    "Katie let me know you came up to ask something," he tells me. "Then that you were taking awhile to come back down, so I assumed you were hesitating outside my door. You can always knock on my door, Xander. Even if it''s the middle of the night. Okay?"

    "O-okay."

    "She didn''t tell me what you wanted, though," he says. "What''s up?"

    "The ceiling."

    "No," he snorts. "I mean, what were you wanting? You had a question, right?"

    Stupid fucking me.

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "Um¡­ I was wondering if I could get donuts from Ms. Heidi''s bakery today? I have money from my allowance and what I earned earlier this week, so I can pay for it myself."

    "You wanted to go through the district and talk with some of the workers?" He asks.

    He''s really good at guessing. Even Greyson would be wrong if he guessed something like that and he''s the smartest person I know of. Then again, Greyson would probably mix up his dreams with reality and guess that I''m wanting to hunt evil spirits haunting the street or something like that.

    "That, too," I say. "But, um¡­ I also wanted to go to the place where I know Landon from. I was thinking and realized that maybe they''re like the shops and think something bad happened to me and are worried about me. And unlike the shops, they probably don''t know that I was in a boys'' home so wouldn''t have a way to find out I''m okay."

    That''s definitely the sort of place which would get concerned if one of the youth suddenly stopped showing up. One of the staff always pulls me into a private meeting if I don''t show up for more than a month because they know I''ve tried killing myself before and they want to make sure I''m doing alright.

    They all care a lot there, and not in the bad way. It''s one of the places I feel most comfortable, too.

    "Okay," Mr. Trey says. "You can do that."

    "Okay," I look down. "I guess not telling you where it is means I-wait," I look at him again. "I can go? Without telling you?"

    "Tiffany and I talked yesterday," he tells me. "And she said that there''s a place you go to where you always seem happiest after leaving. She never could figure out where it was but they didn''t mind that at the home since you seemed to have incredible luck in being safe while living with them, even if your life before wasn''t so lucky. Since it seems to be a safe place and you''ve been going there for years, and it doesn''t seem to involve anything illegal, then I''ll approve it. Do you want me to drop you off at the donut shop?"

    I''m really, really hungry, so I want to brave a question that might get me into trouble, since he asked if I want him to take me there.

    "Can I teleport there?" I ask. "Or do I have to get driven?"

    "You can teleport there," he tells me. "Make sure to restock on your snacks if you''re leaving now."

    "Okay," I tell him, then we both head downstairs. "Ms. Katie, Mr. Trey said it''s okay for me to get donuts at Ms. Heidi''s bakery. Also that I should restock my snacks first, so I''m going to change and get my backpack. But I wanted to let you know first so you don''t keep waiting."

    "Thanks," she smiles.

    When I return downstairs, Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are talking with Ms. Katie working on breakfast and Mr. Trey sitting on one of the stools at the counter.

    "Mr. Trey?" I ask.

    "Yes?"

    Big question here from me and it''s making me nervous, but I feel like it''s really important for me to ask before I leave today for some reason.

    "I''m starting eighth grade next month," I tell him. "Does that mean I''m old enough to date, or am I still too young?"

    Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie both seem kind of surprised by that, but Mr. Trey quickly recovers.

    "Let me ask you a question in return," he says. "What is ''dating'' to you?"

    Oh, I guess he wants to know what I mean by dating before answering my question. That''s probably a good thing to clarify since I''m sure adults have a different meaning for it then middle schoolers do.

    "Eating dinner together sometimes," I say. "But not as friends. Or going for walks or bike rides together. Well, I don''t know how to ride a bike so not that bit for me. Maybe holding hands, but not required. Sometimes giving hugs but also not required. It''s, um¡­ doing stuff together that you''d do as friends, but you both like each other more. So you''re not friends but boyfriends, but only if you''ve both decided on that. Right?"

    "That''s a pretty middle-schooler way of viewing it," Mr. Trey snorts. "There''s a more serious version of dating, but you probably won''t think about that for at least three or four more years. If that''s what you view as dating, then yes, you''re allowed to."

    So there is another type of dating, but since he''s not saying what it is that probably means I don''t need to know. I''m fine with that, though.

    "Is this about S.G.?" Mr. Trey asks. "I noticed you''ve seemed interested in him."

    "It''s not," I tell him. "I mean, I do have a crush on him, but I''m pretty sure he''s dating Connor and Sam and Isaac are dating each other, but they''re not telling me because we only really started talking recently."

    "Didn''t you think I was dating several members of my staff when we first met?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "That was different!" I protest as my face heats up. Why did I tell him about that? "You brought me to your house and then started introducing me to people! Of course I was going to think one of them was your boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife! With S.G. and Connor, and with Sam and Isaac, I can just tell they like each other. It''s¡­ it''s¡­ it''s like with you and Ms. Katie!"

    "We''re not in love with each other," Mr. Trey quickly tells me.

    "Mr. Trey," I say. "I know it''s wrong to counter adults or tell them they''re wrong or lying, but I was looking into your eyes when you said that. If you don''t want me to know you''re lying, that''s really not something you should let happen."

    Mr. Trey softly groans as he puts his head in one of his hands and Ms. Katie starts focusing on preparing my snack updates.

    "I don''t get why you two don''t just date," I say.

    "She''s my employee," Mr. Trey says. "I don''t date employees."

    "If you fired her," I say. "She wouldn''t be your employee anymore and could be your girlfriend. Then you could sit next to her when watching a movie. She could be a live-in girlfriend, too. She''s already living here."

    "Things are a lot more complicated than that," Mr. Trey tells me. "Let''s circle back to you, though. If it''s not S.G. you''re thinking of wanting to date, who is it?"

    "A boy named Russell."

    "I don''t know of any Russells," Mr. Trey says. "At least, not with you in context. You know a Russell?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I see him sometimes in different places. Like the park. And since I''ve been at the park once and might go again, that means I might see him again. And I really like him and I know that he likes me. And I don''t really think I''m date-worthy, but if he wants to date me¡­ I wanted to know if it''s okay."

    "And¡­ how do you know he likes you?"

    "He told me."

    "He told you?

    "Yeah."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few very long moments, and that makes me feel like I did something wrong.

    "You seem awfully calm about liking someone else," he says. "Or having someone else like you."

    "I freaked out when Russell told me he liked me," I tell him. "But then Landon talked with me about it. Now, I know the difference between crushing on someone and being an evil asshole who deserves to have their head blown off."

    Ms. Katie starts to laugh but quickly covers her mouth.

    There are other types of liking as well, but it''s hard for me to distinguish them from the evil kind.

    "And how, exactly, did this Landon help you with that?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Well," I say. "He asked me if there was anyone I liked being around, who I sometimes thought things like ''this would be much more fun with them here'' about even if it''s just sitting. And before Russell scared me, he was one of those people for me. And he asked me about of questions about what I think of Russell and like about him, and about Nick, my roommate at the boys'' home. It was a really long discussion, like, three hours. He asked me about different boys and girls and by the end of it, he''d helped me to understand that there''s a big difference in the types of likes. Also that Russell probably meant in the crush kind of way, and that I probably had a crush on Russell. Well, Landon didn''t tell me that bit, I figured it out on my own."

    Landon is really good at helping me out. He''s done that for a lot of the youth at the secret safe space. He''s even helped me a little with dealing with what happened in my old foster home, but that stuff is just too scary and I''m still worried about it.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "I see," Mr. Trey says. "Well, I want to meet anyone you date. Understand? So if you see Russell again and want to date you, you have to introduce him to me. Okay?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Good," he says, then gives me a small smile. "I think Katie''s done fixing up your snack refills. Let me know if you go anywhere else, alright?"

    "Yes, sir."

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    As I go to upload my "good morning" picture to the chat ¨C something I''ve now learned is something the dads got the other boys to start doing as a way of being able to tell I woke up fine without being obvious about it ¨C I realize that Xander''s already posted to the group chat. While it''s a picture, it''s of his stuffed animals rather than him.

    He''s arranged some of them in a circle, as if they''re having a secret meeting. That picture was at 5:07 this morning, so none of us were up yet. I don''t think any of the others are up yet, either, since no one else has posted their morning pics.

    I upload my picture and send a message.

    [Sig]: Morning, Xander!

    [Xander]: Hello, S.G.

    [Sig]: What''s up?

    [Xander]: The ceiling.

    That''s followed by a picture of a ceiling, making me giggle a little. He can definitely be a dork sometimes.

    [Sig]: I meant how''re you?

    [Xander]: Hungry. Going to get donuts at Ms. Heidi''s bakery for breakfast.

    She''s one of the people I''m considering asking for advice about getting a proper magic teacher from and it is a Saturday. I''ve still got money leftover from my various jobs and from what Aunt Rachel paid me for the work on Wednesday, too, so I can definitely buy some donuts.

    [Sig]: Can I join you? I want to go to the park after!

    [Connor]: DONUTS!!!

    That''s followed by a picture of him in the bathroom, in the middle of brushing his teeth. He''s got toothpaste foam all over his lips and his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth while he''s flashing his phone a peace sign.

    [Sam]: Dork.

    He sends a picture of himself still in bed and looking pretty sleepy. He must''ve forgotten to silence his phone last night or put it on vibrate by accident, then gotten woken up by the series of pings or vibrations.

    [Xander]: How long before you guys get to the donut place? I''ll wait if it''s not long.

    [Connor]: Dork? DORK? I''LL MAKE YOU EAT YOUR WORDS FOR BREAKFAST!

    [Sig]: The furthest any of us live is about 15 mins but I think Aunt Rachel is about 7. It''ll probably take you longer even if you get driven, right?

    Xander takes a few minutes to respond. By that point, Isaac''s uploaded his "good morning" picture and the four of us are play-bickering with each other. What Xander responds with is a picture of the front of Ms. Heidi''s bakery.

    [Xander]: I''m already here. The other picture was the bakery''s ceiling.

    [Sig]: I can leave just as soon as I get ready to go!

    There''s no reason for me to wait so I change out of my sleepwear and get ready to leave. I check the stuff in my fun backpack and make sure there''s an extra clean shirt in there for me to put on when I get to the bakery, then I fix on my helmet and head out back to get my bike. Just as I get to the gate, I remember that I promised Aunt Rachel to let her know where I''m going, even if it annoys me, so I hurry up the stairs to the deck and into the kitchen, where she''s pulling out stuff to make breakfast.

    "I''m heading to the park to meet up with the others!" I tell her. "Well, not the park first, we''re going to get breakfast first, then go to the park. There''s a mage district close by and while it''s a little bit more expensive, their food''s really good and Xander wants donuts from there. He''s also already there, apparently, so I don''t want to make him wait too long, or I''d be asking if I could eat some of the leftover pie from last night before I go!"

    I give Aunt Rachel a hug, then hurry out and leave. When I arrive at the mage district, Xander''s sitting on the sidewalk in front of the bakery, playing with Trenton. Well, he''s just holding Trenton in his lap and moving the bear''s arms forward in an alternating pattern, but he''s also shifting his own shoulders as he does in a sort of sitting-dance.

    His face¡­ yup! That''s a happy face for him!

    "Morning, Xander!" I tell him as I hop off of my bike and put the kickstand down so I can let go of it, and he stops playing with Trenton. "Whatcha doing?"

    "Trenton wanted to dance," Xander tells me. "But he can''t move on his own. Ms. Heidi said it''s okay for me to play with him in front of her bakery while I waited. She also said I could play with him inside while I waited, but I didn''t want to do that just in case."

    "In case of what?" I ask.

    Xander thinks for a few seconds.

    "You probably didn''t check your phone while riding your bike here," he tells me. "But Connor, Sam, and Isaac all said their dads are making them do their chores before they leave, so they''ll probably be an hour or so. They apparently didn''t do their chores yesterday. My only chore is doing my laundry, but that''s because I asked for that as a chore. Mr. Trey didn''t want to give me chores yet until I was settled in more."

    Aunt Rachel and I talked while we made the pies last night, and she told me I''ll have to do some chores, but nothing too much until I settle into her house. Mostly just keeping my room, bathroom, and the rec room clean, but also mowing the lawns and helping with the pool. All stuff I was doing at my parents'' house, plus the rec room and pool and I guess those are reasonable even if I don''t want to. I''ll be the one using them more.

    "They can''t come yet?" I check my phone and find that they all said that while I was on my way here. "Awww."

    Maybe this is their dads punishing them for me blowing up at Mr. Thompson and they''re going to get told they can''t come for some other reason once they''re done with their chores. That''s not really fair at all, and it wasn''t Mr. Thompson''s place to talk to me about what happened yesterday.

    "I''m going to get donuts now," Xander stands. "Sorry if you want to do something else, but I''m really hungry."

    "Breakfast first!" I pocket my phone then pull off my backpack so I can pull a shirt on, then we enter the bakery. "Good morning, Ms. Heidi!"

    "Good morning, S.G.," she says. "Good morning again Xander, Trenton."

    "Hello," Xander says, then looks at Trenton for a moment before looking at her. "He wants me to tell you that he says ''hello'' again, too. Only S.G. was able to come right now so it''s only us getting donuts."

    "What do you boys want today?" Ms. Heidi asks.

    "You can order first," Xander tells me.

    "I haven''t decided yet," I tell him. "You can go if you already know!"

    "Okay," Xander steps up to the counter. "Hi, Ms. Heidi. Is it okay if I order now?"

    "Sure!" She answers as I start looking at the choices.

    "May I please have three circles with maple icing, three rectangles with maple icing, three bear claws, three strawberry-filled with a sugar dusting, and an apple fritter, please? That''s thirteen for the baker''s dozen, right?"

    "It is," Ms. Heidi tells him. "That''ll be $15."

    Xander gives her money and she gives him his receipt and a bag with his order, then he steps to the side so I can step up.

    "Three rings with chocolate icing and sprinkles, please!"

    I pay and receive my donuts, then we start to exit the shop.

    "Wait!" I exclaim, causing Xander to jump. "Sorry, Xander! Ms. Heidi! I found out that my magic teacher was scamming me and teaching me badly, so I wanted to know if anyone here could recommend me a good teacher who is, um¡­ affordable for a boy my age?"

    "Depends on what you''re wanting to learn," Ms. Heidi tells me.

    "Lightning magics!" I answer. "But also water magics, I guess? I''ve got some semi-friends and one of the ways they play is with water magic, especially when it''s warmer out but they''ll even use it for snow in the winter."

    "Lightning is a bit more complex and takes more experience," she says. "But for water magics, Laney down the street does offer lessons at $100 an hour, rounded up to the hour. Air and fire magics aren''t a bad choice either, and Roger uses both to make his candy. Same rate. Adriana at the bookstore teaches force magic, which is also a good one to start with. Same rate. That''s everyone on this street who I know is currently offering lessons."

    Whoa. That''s a lot more than I expected, and they''re all people I''ve talked with and have a friendly customer relationship with, too! And that rate is ridiculously low compared to my old teacher''s!

    "Thanks!" I tell her. "Xander? Do you mind if we see if any of them are willing to be my teacher for magic?"

    "We can do that," Xander answers, though he gives his donut bag a wistful look.

    I should make this fast. He''s probably really hungry, and I know I am, too.

    "Okay!" I say. "Come on!"

    We leave the shop and head down the street to the candy shop. Everything''s open now so we head inside, and Mr. Roger gives us a big smile when we enter.

    "Good morning, boys," he says. "You look pretty happy today, Xander."

    Even with Xander''s face still being mostly neutral, he really does look happy compared to usual.

    "I''m feeling happy," Xander tells him. "S.G. wanted to ask you something."

    "Sure, sure," Mr. Roger looks at me. "What would you like, S.G.?"

    "Ms. Heidi says you teach magic lessons?" I ask. "I found out yesterday that my current instructor was¡­ not that great. She was teaching me how to use magic the way she uses it and charges $300 per hour on top of that. Some boys I know from up north were down here yesterday and they told me that was really wrong, and the dad of one of them taught me how to properly cast spells. How to find my own mana''s quirks and how it wants to flow. But he couldn''t teach me more than that."

    "He knew enough to teach you the right way to cast spells, but not more?" Mr. Roger asks.

    "Well," I say. "He didn''t know how to help me adjust how I cast, I think. And he''s from further up north, so he can''t teach me regularly."

    "I see," Mr. Roger says. "Well, he''s right in that each person''s got little quirks that affect how they''re able to cast spells. What are you wanting to learn?"

    "Lightning magic!" I answer. "Though I''ve been repeatedly told I need to learn more simple spells first."

    "That''s right," he says. "Unless you''ve a talent for lightning magic, it''s a bit too complex for a beginner. I have lesson slots from six to eight in the evening on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays right now, and we can do either one-hour or two-hour. I can teach you several different ones which can give you a good foundation for eventually learning more complex magics. I mainly deal in fire and air, if that''s what you''re interested in."

    "My old ones were usually at six," I tell him. "For just an hour, every two weeks. But Ms. Heidi says you charge $100 an hour, not $300 an hour like my current teacher? Or I guess old one, since I''m not going back. So if you do $100 an hour, I can probably do that every week if you''re okay with that."

    "I do," he says. "So Mondays from six to seven?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Alright," he smiles. "I''ll see you then and yes, Xander, we can arm wrestle if you want."

    I look at Xander, who was fidgeting during the conversation while looking like he wanted to say something. Now he''s giving me a nervous look.

    "Arm wrestle?" I ask.

    "Arm wrestle," Mr. Roger walks out from behind the counter and over to a table. "It''s a deal I have with Xander. If he can beat me in an arm wrestle, he''ll get three pounds of candy for free. If he can''t, he''ll either get a pound of candy that I pick out for him for free or he''ll get a pound of candy he picks out, but he has to pay a quarter of the price."

    I want that sort of deal, too, but I''m willing to bet I''ll get turned down if I ask. Xander''s getting special treatment, but the vibe I got when I mentioned him last week felt like he''s probably a lot more close to the workers here than I am. They seem to like him a ton.

    Xander does the arm wrestle with Mr. Roger and while he tries his best and has an intense look of concentration on his face, he loses pretty fast.

    "Not bad," Mr. Roger tells him. "You did about the same as last weekend."

    "I only had one fitness day this week," Xander tells him. "Tuesday was a holiday so I didn''t have classes, and I was helping S.G. and his aunt on Wednesday. Thursday and yesterday, I was just feeling overwhelmed so I didn''t have classes. Well, and there was a visit from Ms. Johnson and from my great-grandpa."

    I know Greyson said they''re Lumaria Kings, but Xander''s actually gotten to meet his great-grandpa? That''s awesome! Yesterday must have been their first meeting, since Xander didn''t know he was a Lumaria King before.

    Xander picks out the candies he''s getting, and they''re all chewy ones for some reason. I love sucking on hard candies and decide to buy a bag of them mixed with some chewy ones once Xander finishes. That''s $20 for me while he only pays $5, which is a little bit unfair and I want to complain but I''d probably just annoy both of them.

    I''m not on that good of terms with Mr. Roger, and he''s probably got some sort of reason for offering this deal to Xander.

    Even if it is unfair.

    "Oh, and Xander?" Mr. Roger says as Xander puts his candy into his backpack, though he''s still holding his donut bag. "Vincent''s card game is once a week for anyone who plays it, so you can do it again."

    "Okay," Xander nods.

    "The card game?" I ask. "Oh! The fudge! Xander, can we try that before eating breakfast? I wanna try and win!"

    "Okay," Xander nods.

    We turn around and head down to where the fudge shop is and enter it. Mr. Vincent''s behind the counter and he greets us with a big smile.

    "Good morning, boys!" He says. "You here to challenge my card game?"

    "We are!" I answer. "Xander, can I go first?"

    "Sure."

    I go up to the counter and Mr. Vincent gets his deck of cards, then he shuffles them and holds them up in front of him in a fan.

    "Ace of Clubs," Mr. Vincent says the name of the one I always have to guess.

    "Okay¡­" I examine the backs of the cards, then start pointing. "Once the dragon lets out its roar, all the demons slam to the floor!"

    I pull out the card I ended up and turn it so I can see it.

    "Ace of Clubs!" I exclaim. "I win!"

    "Congrats," Mr. Vincent takes the card back and shuffles it. "Let''s do Xander''s attempt next, then you can pick out your fudge," he holds the cards up in a fan. "Alright, Xander. King of Diamonds."

    "That one has a slight scuffing in one of the corners," Xander tells Mr. Vincent. "And that corner''s the one that''s visible today. It''s this one right here. Though I didn''t see the scuffing last week until I pulled the card out since it was a different corner that was visible, so last week''s was just a guess."

    "It does?" Mr. Vincent sets the deck down and takes the card, then looks at the corner that was visible. "You''re right, it does. Well, you still got it right, Xander, so you get seven things of fudge as well!"

    "But it''s not really fair," Xander says. "It was cheating since it was marked."

    "Cheating would be using magic to guess," Mr. Vincent tells Xander. "You were able to remember that the card had some scuffing on the corner and it was visible and you noticed it. That''s both memory and luck."

    The old man''s smile widens.

    "And the scuffing is there on purpose," he tells Xander. "Specifically to see if anyone picks up on it. There''s a mix of luck in there on if it''s the visible corner. Now that I know you''ve picked up on it, you''ll be getting a different deck used."

    "Oh," Xander looks uncertain, but I think I know what''s going on.

    Mr. Vincent isn''t just playing a game with kids, he''s actually testing us to see if we notice markings on the cards. That must be why he always calls the same card for the same kid. Each card in that deck must have some sort of marking on a corner.

    "Let''s get the fudge selections," Mr. Vincent says. "What do you boys want? It''s seven each."

    Xander and I look through the fudges and make our selections, then put them into our backpacks. We make our way to the park next, and I secure my bike to one of the bike stands, then take my things to a table with Xander.

    "I''m going to go get milk," I tell Xander as he sits and opens up his backpack. "Want me to get you a thing of it?"

    "I have my own," Xander says. "Thanks for offering, though."

    "Okay!" I say. "Back in a few!"

    I head to the store where I normally get my milk when I get donuts here, then return to the table after buying some. I pull off my shirt and tuck it into my backpack, then dig into breakfast. Xander''s already halfway through his donuts by the time I take my first bite, and he''s done by the time I finish despite having four times as many donuts to eat.

    Jeez, was he hungry!

    "Hey, Xander!" I bounce as I remember something, then pull the puzzle sphere out of my bag. "Here''s the puzzle sphere your cousin gave me! I didn''t know if you wanted it back or not."

    "Thanks," Xander accepts the sphere and puts it into his backpack, then pulls one with triangles for the pieces out. "Here."

    "I wasn''t trying to trade," I tell him.

    "I know," Xander says. "You sent me that you''d solved it four different times yesterday, so I figured you really liked it. This is a new one. It''s¡­ not as complex. I made one for each of you, in case everyone wanted one. And it doesn''t change its algorithm each time it''s reset, so you''ll probably get faster at it."

    "That''s fine!" I accept the puzzle sphere. "I think they''re really cool! How does it work?"

    Xander shows me how this one works and watches as I try to solve it. This one only takes me about three minutes, the patterns way easier to figure out than on the other sphere.

    "Something else," I say once the sphere''s solved. "Um¡­ I probably shouldn''t have, but I asked Greyson if you two were Lumaria Kings when we were talking yesterday. Something Mr. Cox said made me suspect it, and I knew you two were related¡­"

    "Did you tell the others?" Xander looks worried.

    "Nope!" I answer. "I didn''t know if you wanted everyone to know or not and that''s kind of a big thing. The dads have taught us all not to share big things about others without knowing if they want to or not. I just kind of forgot about that when asking Greyson."

    "Does-does it change how you think of me?" Xander looks really worried now.

    Oh. That''s what he''s worried about? That we''re going to think of him different?

    "Nope!" I answer. "You''re still you, after all! The same dude I''m friends with already!"

    Xander looks confused.

    "Basically," I say. "It doesn''t change anything about you! So why would I care? Though I bet if you learned magic, you could do some really cool things! Your cousin teleports around, right? I bet that would make it super easy for you to get wherever you wanted to hang out!"

    I look around, then lean in closely to whisper.

    "But don''t worry," I tell him. "If you learn how to teleport, I promise I won''t ask you to take me places with it. That''d be dumb and I like riding my bike places."

    "Okay," Xander nods. "And yeah, Greyson teleports all over the place. He also uses other magics to get places more quickly. And¡­ I did learn some magic. I can breathe fire."

    That sounds awesome!

    "Really?" I ask. "Can I see?"

    Xander gives me a shaky nod, then gets up and takes a few steps away from the table. There''s no deep breath like I''m expecting, he just opens his mouth and fire begins to stream out of it. It forms a jet that travels about twenty feet before fading away. He''s angled his head up slightly so that the flames don''t touch and burn the grass, which is really cool.

    Five seconds pass. Then ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Sixty. Ninety. Whoa, whoa, whoa! How he is managing to breathe fire for so long without taking a breath?

    "Xander!" I bounce in my seat when he finishes. "That was so cool! How''d you do that? Didn''t you run out of breath?"

    "It''s called ''breathing fire''," Xander tells me. "But I''m not actually breathing fire, I''m just generating flames in a jet in front of my mouth. I''m not sure why they call it ''breathing fire''. So I could still breathe while doing that."

    "They probably call it that because it looks like you''re exhaling fire!" I tell him. "That was an awesome spell! And you learned it so fast? Whoa. Lumaria Kings really are a different breed."

    Xander suddenly looks uncomfortable. Ah, crap. What did I say that''s bothering him? Maybe he doesn''t want to be associated with his family since he doesn''t really know them? I should change the subject.

    "Wanna throw a ball around?" I ask. "We can play with a hacky sack again!"

    "Um¡­" Xander shifts a little. "I actually wanted to go somewhere else after eating breakfast, then maybe come to the park after. That¡­ that was my plan before you all wanted to join me."

    "Oh," I say. "Well, unless I decide to change my plans, I''ll probably be here until lunch!"

    "Okay," Xander pulls three more puzzle spheres out of his backpack. "Can you give these to the others? Do you think they''d like them?"

    "Sure!" I answer as he pulls his backpack on. "And yeah, I think they would! Bye, Xander!"

    "Bye."

    I put the spheres in my backpack and when I turn to look at Xander again¡­ he''s just gone. He can really move when he wants to, can''t he?

 Chapter 0057

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years] ¡ú begins before Chapter 56 and takes place during it

    I use magic to sanitize the bathtub and plug, then fix the plug in. Then, I dump into the now-empty tub the entire box of crystals I brought with me. The crystals resemble Epsom salts in size and shape but have a faint blue tint to them rather than looking white. There''s quite a lot of the magical crystals as it''s necessary for the special type of bath. Once the box is empty, I set it to the side, then pour in the carefully-measured blue-colored bubble soap. Magic is used to get all of it out, then the cup is set to the side.

    Next, I turn on the water and let it run until the bath reaches a specific height, the bubbles forming a dense layer three inches thick on top and fully covering the water. A small touch of magic made sure the water coming out of the spout was the correct temperature, and the crystals will make sure it stays that way.

    I quickly undress, then lower myself into the water. Actually doing that is a little bit difficult but I manage it and float within the center, not on top, of it. Truly, perfectly in the middle, completely surrounded on all sides by the water.

    The specific temperature of the water combined with the magic in the crystals prevents any thermal sensation for me. The magic of the dissolved crystals also prevents sound from traveling through, or even the feeling of the water. Just a weight, pressing in all around me. The bubbles on top and the dissolved soap for them still within the water completely neutralizes my empathy''s ability to reach out.

    Here, now, I have no sensations apart from those within me. No external stimuli at all. A perfect, peaceful realm where the fears of the world do not affect me. Magic within the crystals allows me to breathe without water getting in me, but even that is not fully necessary when I am in this state.

    Isolation tanks? Bah! Those are candles to a sun when compared to my version. This is true sensory deprivation¡­ and it doesn''t take long for the visions to begin.

    Green triangles interlocked with each other. Others dancing across my view. Blue squares drifting by. Red circles rotating as they float across my vision. Yellow four-pointed stars fading in and out. A purple starburst which forms in the background, larger than all other images. A magenta-

    A hand suddenly pulls against my back, forcing me into a sitting position. Pain shoots through my head as some of my senses hit me back in full and the vision itself is interrupted. At least the hand was low enough that it wasn''t touching my shoulders, dealing with the pain is already too much.

    "I''m in the bath!"

    "There''s a three-inch layer of bubbles across the entire surface of the water," Cal is giving me a disapproving look for some reason and the effects of the bubble soap is still affecting me somewhat because of the water on me and bubbles on my head, so I''m not sure why. "Even with me pulling you up. It always shifts to adjust for movements, as strange as that is. Magic, I guess. And also, until two years ago, I''m the one who gave you baths or made sure you''d cleaned properly. It''s nothing I haven''t seen before."

    All fair points, all fair points.

    "Why are you interrupting it?" I ask. "It hasn''t been that long! I get two hours when I do the float bubble session! And you all use the toilet when I''m meditating, so it''s not like you have to stop me!"

    Unlike when it''s just a normal bubble bath. They''re semi-allowed to interrupt me for those since I''m not meditating.

    "Only because we can''t see you and you can''t see us," Cal says. "And that''s not what this is about. It''s also already been over an hour, anyway. Greyson, I looked up information about dreamsages-"

    "You could''ve just asked me."

    "And gotten your censored version so I don''t learn certain things?" Cal snorts. "Yeah, right. It wasn''t easy as dreamsages are apparently somewhat rare and not documented all that well. What you said is that you can walk through dreams or eat them to recover your own mana. What you left out is that you''re also able to easily affect them in other ways."

    That should have been obvious by the name alone and also the magic type involved.

    "Any mind mage worth their affinities can do that," I huff. "You interrupted my visualizing the universe for this, Cal?"

    "Yet influencing dreams comes to dreamsages quite naturally," he says. "And one of those powers is creating and forcing dreams. You''re responsible for Henry''s nightmares."

    "Excuse you?" I glare at him. "I do not make him relive his trauma! That''s all on his own brain! And I''m not going to eat them so he has good sleeps. The only nightmares I eat are Xander''s, if he sleeps around me and is having bad dreams. That''s because he deserves good dreams, unlike that brat."

    "You''re a brat, too," Cal says. "And I''m not referring to the trauma-based nightmares, Greyson. I''m referring to the other nightmares. Like the ones he had last night, which resulted in him crawling in my bed at two-thirty this morning. The only reason I didn''t wake you up after connecting the dots was because you wouldn''t wake up no matter how hard I tried."

    Trying to wake a dreamsage while he''s in someone else''s dreams is like trying to wake a god when he wants to sleep. I was playing with octopuses in Travis''s dreams at about that time. We were playing beach volleyball and I was somehow losing and had to put on a top hat.

    "Those aren''t nightmares," I say. "Those are just annoying dreams. It''s not my fault he''s terrified of math equations that sing themselves to him."

    Seriously. How is that even the slightest bit terrifying?

    "Want to know what made me realize that was you doing that to him?" Cal asks.

    "Me saying what they were?"

    "The fact that they always happen the first night you and Henry sleep in the same house after he antagonizes you," Cal answers. "He called you an arrogant know-it-all during dinner and then had another one of those nightmares last night."

    "First," I say. "It''s not arrogance if it''s not an inflated sense of self, it''s just awareness of what you are. I am a nigh-unstoppable mage talented in many fields with a vast array of knowledge and a level of magitech genius and skill which exceeds nigh any other. It''s not arrogance to view myself that way, it''s accepting reality. Second, he was calling me that because I answered a question I was asked and he didn''t like that I gave additional information."

    "Stop giving Henry annoying dreams," Cal tells me. "If he realizes that you''re the cause behind them, he''ll get even more annoying."

    "Maybe he shouldn''t be annoying in the first place."

    "Greyson," Cal says. "You''re the smart one between the two of you. Do the smart thing and stop now, before it makes the problem worse."

    I huff.

    "Manage it for a month," he says. "And I''ll buy mindwave meat and fix you something with it each day for a week."

    While doing that on my own would probably exceed the allowance I''m being given if I still want to eat at my normal rate off of my allowance, it''s even better if someone else does it. And Cal''s got a job and saves decently so he can afford to do that, too.

    "Okay."

    "Now," he says. "Before you go back to whatever you were doing¡­ we always thought it was some weird thing you liked doing to relax since you usually seem calmer after, just with a little magic to let you breathe and float in the middle of the water rather than at the top of it. That the drops you gave me to let you know when it''s time to stop were just some strange magic signal you decided on."

    He narrows his gaze.

    "What was that about visualizing the universe?"

    "It''s a true total sensory deprivation bath," I tell him. "Not those fake ones that only semi-do it. The magic crystals and the bubble soap creates an absolute sensory deprivation experience which even blocks my empathy. They also enable me to float in the exact middle and maintain the temperature of the water for up to thirty hours. Through this method, one is able to visualize the universe''s flows and receive visions of what once was, what currently is, and what will one day be. Or at least, I do¡­ I''m not sure about others. The drops create a magical disturbance in the water, which I can feel. And when you suddenly pull me out like you did, it causes some of my senses to return in full and abruptly ends the vision. That''s really painful, Cal."

    "Sorry," he at least looks like he''s feeling guilty. "Could you let me experience your version of a sensory deprivation tank once yours is done? See if I get the visions, too?"

    "No," I answer. "Because after mine is done, I''ll be eating breakfast. This tub is too small for you to do it in, too. You have to have at least two inches between you and the sides or ends and you won''t. But I can make a bigger one with my magic at the workshop after breakfast¡­ as long as you promise not to look at anything else."

    "I promise," Cal says.

    "Okay," I say. "I''m returning to it. And the two hours is reset because you interrupted it for no good reason!"

    I sink back down before Cal can say anything, then wait for the visions to return. They do fairly quickly, though I guess the lack of ability to properly tell time like this means it might not actually be "quickly".

    This time, the visions are different.

    Green triangles interlocked with blue circles. Red squares spinning as they circle around my field of view. Opal seven-pointed stars interlocked with each other. Sea green rectangles dancing with fuchsia octagons. A giant purple starburst fading in behind everything.

    On and on the images come, their appearances and movements slow but sure. Just as the lapis pentagons begin their flips, there''s a disturbance in the universe. An oddity that''s out of place. Another one happens and the shapes ripple. Only once the third oddity and ripple occurs do I realize that it''s time for me to stop.

    I slowly sit up, allowing my senses to come back to me slowly as I look at Cal, who''s putting the dropper cap back onto the black vial bottle.

    "Want to share what you gleaned from your visions?" Cal asks.

    "Nothing really useful for me," I say. "Most of it''s really useless stuff or things I learned in prior vision baths. Oh, but Xander''s apparently messed with the flow of the universe again. I get that he''s a god and all, but it can be really quite annoying when he just randomly changes things. There''s a balance, you know? And Xander''s just sometimes like¡­ nope! Don''t like it! And then the weather forecast changes. There was only supposed to be some light rain a few times next week but now there''s going to be a thunderstorm Wednesday night."

    "There''s no rain in the forecast," Cal tells me.

    "Well, yeah," I say. "But how accurate can that be when magic can make things change at any moment? Trust me, the visions are a way better way to predict the weather since reading the flows of the universe is way more accurate. Not that the weather matters to me, but it''s almost always one of the first things I get when I meditate and visualize the universe. How I know Xander went and messed with the universe again was because the forecast changed between the readings today. Only a god could make things change that fast and it''s always the weather that gets affected when Xander decides to change things. I think that''s really what he''s doing ¨C changing the weather. Though it''s weird that he''d make it storm, he hates storms. I would''ve expected him to make it not rain. Or make it snow. He loves snow."

    Maybe he''s accidentally affecting the weather? I always thought he was casting all those spells on purpose but he wasn''t. It''s possible that he''s subconsciously interfering with the flows of the universe in order to make concrete changes to the weather.

    Which would actually be really cool, now that I think about it.

    "So¡­ what sort of other things did you visualize?" Cal asks. "Or learn? You said it''s not useful to you?"

    "Well, yeah," I say. "Why would a leviathan deciding to mess with some of the planes and boats traveling on the Atlantic Ocean affect me? Or a demon invasion south of Boston? That''s getting cleaned up quickly, anyway, so it''s even less relevant. I first learned about that six months ago, too. Really annoying I keep getting that particular bit. The universe should let me see something useful in its place. Though I guess the information about spatial magic I learned is good to know, so there''s that. Okay, so I learned one useful thing."

    "You learned something about spatial magic?" Cal asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "It relates to pocket dimensions, too, and that''s something I like studying how to make. It''ll be really useful. I only got a fragment of information but if I study it, I might be able to learn something really useful. It''s nothing like the session which taught me how to manipulate time. That wasn''t a fragment at all."

    "O¡­kay," Cal doesn''t seem to know how to respond to that and he probably thinks I''m just making stuff up or imagining things. "Make sure to rinse off the suds after you drain the water, both from yourself and the tub. Then get dried and dressed. I''ll let Dad know you''re ready for breakfast."

    Topic change. Of course he decided to do that, he couldn''t understand what I was saying.

    "Thanks!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    I''m really glad I looked at the spell Greyson uses to avoid being noticed when he teleports around, but also looked up the legality of it. As it turns out, his spell is super illegal because it affects the minds of others in a way not permitted by law.

    So I modified the spell using some stuff I researched and made a legal version of it. Instead of interacting with the minds of others to prevent them from perceiving me, it prevents me from being able to get registered by a mind. I''m not influencing their minds, I''m simply not noticed by them in the first place.

    The fact that it''s not illegal because I might be the first to do a spell like that both worries me and excites me. Worries me because if I get found out, I might still get arrested despite the spell being legal. Excites me because it means I came up with a spell that''s either never been done before or is so unknown that it''s not been recognized by the laws.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    I hope I''m the first because that would mean I''ve done something big and cool.

    The building I teleported to after leaving S.G. at the park resembles a slightly-overgrown mansion and it''s set into some of the woods around town. It actually is overgrown, but the taller grass that''s visible from the rusty-looking gate, the ivy on the walls and metal fencing surrounding the property, and all of the other run-down and overgrown-look is deliberate. The metal of the gate only looks rusty, but it''s actually an alloy that can''t rust.

    It''s fake rust.

    There''s powerful illusion and mind magics on the property, but it''s done in a legal manner. This is something they call a "youth sanctuary". It''s a government-approved facility with special licensing which allows it to have enchantments not normally allowed in order to protect those who come here.

    Such as the mind magic which makes it impossible to actually perceive people who come here unless you''ve got permission to. If someone were to follow me here when I walk here, they''d completely forget they were even following me in the first place once they get within a certain distance of the property.

    Normally an illegal magic, but allowed because of the license this place has.

    I''m not really sure how the spell works to do that, and how it differentiates between two people who happen to both be coming here and a person who''s following another with ill intent, but it does.

    Only a few moments pass after I appear at the gate before it silently swings open. There''s an invisible camera with someone always watching it, just to make sure youth can be let in when they arrive. They''re not allowed to leave the security station unless someone else is there to take over for them.

    The gates close behind me after I pass through and when I reach the front doors of the building, I open one and enter. Even though the mansion is huge, there''s no large lobby like Mr. Trey has. The interior of this place was renovated a little bit and is more of a cross between a school and a youth center.

    To the right when I enter is a desk with a couple of men sitting behind it and several monitors. They have two guards at the desk today, it seems. That''s rare and probably means something happened and they''re upping security until they''re sure things are calmer.

    "Hey, Xander!" One of them greets me. "Sorry we didn''t notice you approaching. How''ve you been? It''s been a little bit since you were last here?

    "Hi, Phillip and Ezekiel," I greet them. "A lot has happened since I was last here."

    They might look like they''re normal guys in their early thirties, maybe a little bit on the buff side, but they''re actually security guards. This whole facility is meant as a sanctuary for youth dealing with depression, abuse, and other stuff like that and they can even lie to the police about if someone is here.

    Only youth and approved adults are allowed on the property and if someone manages to force their way in¡­ well, they''re like Mr. Trey''s security ¨C most of the ones here are former magic special forces. Now that my brain''s not broke anymore, I might even remember stuff like that more often.

    "I''m sure," he says. "We already let Landon know you''re here, he''s on his way up. He was monitoring some of the kids in the gym. He said he wants to talk with you."

    Landon''s usually the one who talks with me if I don''t show up for awhile, so I''m not surprised by that.

    "You seem happy," Ezekiel, the other desk worker, says. "We were all a bit worried. Did you try taking your life again, but got some treatment instead?"

    "No," I answer. "I got a new home and I''m really happy there. I made some friends, too. They''re really nice."

    Even if they scare me sometimes, like S.G. did after seeing me use magic not even ten minutes ago.

    "Oh!" He smiles widely. "That''s great to hear, Xander! So you don''t need to come here anymore, then?"

    "I don''t feel fully safe there," I tell him. "I''m still allowed to come here, can''t I? Or do I have to stop now that I''m happy sometimes?"

    "You can," he says. "This place is to make sure the youth who visit it feel safe, after all."

    That''s a big relief, because that means I can still come here if I don''t feel safe, not just when I''m feeling horrible and want to die or disappear.

    "Have you done anything new since you were last here?" Phillip asks. "Anything exciting?"

    "I made friends," I nod, but my answer makes them laugh for some reason. "Did¡­ did I do something wrong?"

    "Not at all," Phillip says. "Other than make friends, have you done anything new or exciting since your last visit?"

    "Oh," I think on what could be a good answer for this, it''s probably a test of some sort. "I learned how to swim. I''m still scared of water, but I''ve been getting help with overcoming that fear. He''s really noisy, though. Not noisy like me when I''m comfortable but an energetic kind of noisy. And look, I''m putting on weight. If you squint, you can even see my abs starting to get defined. That''s a good thing, because it means I''m getting healthy."

    "You can put your shirt down, Xander!" Phillip laughs. "You don''t need abs to be healthy."

    "The healthiest people I know all have abs."

    "Hello, Xander!" Landon greets me as he comes around a corner. "It''s good to see you again! And you''re looking happy, too!"

    "I am happy," I tell him. "But I sometimes feel unsafe or depressed, and I really wanted to be somewhere safe. So I came here."

    "I''m glad to see you''re doing well," he says. "I''d like to talk with you for a little bit."

    Just as I expected.

    "Okay."

    I follow Landon up to the backyard, which is neatly-kept and has a few youth hanging out back here. We then go to one of the gazebos set a little bit away from the mansion and sit at the table set up in here.

    While this might not seem like a great place to have a discussion, the gazebo is enchanted with a muting spell. We can still be seen by others, but we can''t be heard. That only works so long as the volume is low, though, as it won''t mute yelling specifically in case something happens and someone starts yelling.

    Which makes it a good spot to talk about things in private with an adult but not be alone with one. Half of the gazebos out here have those enchantments.

    Landon pulls a deck of cards out of one of his pockets and starts shuffling.

    "We''ve been concerned about you ever since you stopped coming here at the end of May," he tells me. "And since you never told us where you lived, we weren''t able to do a wellness check and make sure you hadn''t had another suicide attempt."

    I start to say something, but Landon holds up a hand to signal for me not to speak.

    "That said," he starts putting the cards on the table in rows, face-down. "Back at the start of May, I was contacted by a man who wanted advice about a boy he was looking into fostering. A boy with severe PTSD, Autism, and potentially other issues which would complicate being raised. The boy came into his care at the start of June, and we''ve been in regular contact ever since. While he never gave me the name of the boy, most of the things he''s asked me about or mentioned align with what I know of you. Am I correct in that you''re being fostered by Trey Caldwell?"

    "But you''re not a therapist?" I say. "Mr. Trey said he was talking to a therapist named Landon. You''re just a supervisor. And he doesn''t know about this place."

    "I''m a supervisor here," Landon tells me. "But I''m also a licensed psychologist specializing in adolescents, with my main client base being wealthier families, particularly mages."

    He puts a finger to his lips.

    "But we don''t bring up that there are actual therapists here," he says. "It makes some of the youth uncomfortable due to past experiences with others. Some have figured it out, but they don''t tell because they''ve realized why we don''t."

    "But you can''t be one," I was looking in his eyes and know that he''s telling the truth, but that really can''t be. "You don''t tell me how I''m stupid and why I''m doing stuff wrong and what''s wrong with me."

    "Because that''s not what a professional is supposed to do," he says. "The job of a psychologist, for the purposes of this discussion, is to help someone recognize what mental issues they''re dealing with and learn how to deal with them. Like you and your aversion to bananas for an unknown reason.

    "I''m doing my job right," he continues. "If my clients facing depression are able to use what I talk with them about to find ways to feel better or cope with what''s going on, if a client who feels as if things outside of their control are their fault, and other stuff. In your case, I''ve been working to help you heal from your trauma. It''s been tricky, but I did make progress some progress. The first time you were here, you''d scream and disappear if an adult came within ten feet of you. We''d find you naked and buried under pillows, blankets, and cushions in one of the quiet rooms. Well, we''d find a big pile of those in there with your clothes outside of them, but that''s close enough. Do you remember what I did, the first time that happened? I know you''ve got a bad memory on things that aren''t repeated enough times, or which you don''t consider significant."

    "Not anymore," I tell him. "I had really bad brain damage and that was why I had a bad memory. But my brain''s all fixed up now."

    "Really?" His eyebrows lift up. "Do you mind if I ask how it got fixed up?"

    "Lumaria King stuff."

    Grandpa Adrian told me that if it comes up and I don''t want to answer, to just say that and it should get them to drop the subject as most people will accept that as an answer.

    "Oh," he says. "I''m guessing your new dad reached out to them to see if they could help and they healed it with their magic?"

    "Something¡­ sort of like that," I say. "He did reach out, and my brain is fixed now. But it''s not quite that. So my memory''s better now, but not for the stuff from before that happened last Saturday. I don''t really remember what you did the first time¡­ or the second¡­ or the third¡­ or how many times that happened."

    It probably happened a lot, though. I always felt safest here like that when I first started coming here. Even now, I might still hide myself like that if I get too uncomfortable, whether here or at Mr. Trey''s house.

    When I do it at Mr. Trey''s house, he just lets me know to come out when I''m ready and I''m not in trouble for panicking¡­ if he finds me. I think he''s figured out that I go into my closet for it, though, since he''s found me pretty fast the last few times.

    "I sat outside of the pile you were under," he says. "And just talked to you in a calm and soothing voice. I didn''t know yet what your fears were so I didn''t know that was making it worse for you, but I told you about the birds we see outside sometimes, some of the activities we have for youth here, the snack room, the hiking trail behind the facility and the creek which flows by it, and more. I told you that you didn''t have to come out if you didn''t want to and that you could stay there as long as you liked, as long as you at least had your pants and underwear back on before leaving the room. The full nudity then did tip me off that you might have textural sensitivities and I figured out after a few meetings with you that you were Autistic, too. I tried to make sure you knew you were fine and not in trouble, and it was okay to be scared and hide if you felt like it when you were here."

    Landon chuckles a little.

    "I think you fell asleep either while I was talking or after I left," he tells me. "You emerged from your hiding spot about four hours later looking quite sleepy. You kept jumping if anyone fourteen years or older got too near you and would bolt backwards a little, and that''s how we figured out that it was an adult walking right up to you that probably triggered your first event. It took me a few months of talking to you, giving you space, and talking with you for you to eventually feel safe elsewhere here other than under a pile of pillows, cushions, and blankets.

    "At the same time," he says. "You started being calmer around older people and stopped being scared entirely around those who were fourteen to sixteen. That was one of the things I tried working with you on. A lot of progress has been made since then, too.

    "That," he says. "Is what therapy is supposed to do. Not tell you what''s wrong but to help you figure out what''s causing you stress and either how to stop it or how to overcome it."

    "Sort of like fears like drowning?" I ask. "I got help with that."

    "Sort of like that," he flips over one of the cards, having finished setting them down while talking. It''s a 7 of Diamonds. "Do you feel comfortable telling me about your new home? I know Trey''s perspective of the situation with you since he''s been asking for advice from me as a therapist, but I want to hear how you feel about it and him."

    "How much are you going to tell him?" I ask as I flip over a card, which turns out to be the Jack of Spades. I flip both cards back over. "Is that okay to ask?"

    "It is," he flips over another card, the 6 of Clubs. "And nothing, unless you give me permission to. Everything you say to me in our discussions stays between us unless it''s necessary for your safety for me to tell others. And anything you say or do here stays between us with the same exception. All of the staff here are under confidentiality agreements."

    "Oh," I say as we continue flipping over cards, with him doing one and me doing one, then me flipping them both back over. "Um¡­ I like living there a lot, but I''m worried that I''m too much trouble for Mr. Trey and he''s going to send me back."

    "From my conversations with him about you," Landon says. "It very much sounds like he cares about you and is concerned. You probably don''t need to worry about that, though I know it''ll take more than me saying that for you to feel that way. Let''s do another question: is there anything you dislike about living with Trey?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "The house is waaaaaay too big, in my opinion. I haven''t gotten lost yet, but I''m really worried I''m going to and end up locking myself in a closet by accident. And there are so many security guards around, too¡­ they''re not all inside but I can tell they''re there. Though Roderick lets me look at his gun and stays nearby when I''m having classes so he can shoot the teachers if they try to hurt me, and Mr. Franklin is super nice. That''s the head of security. And Mr. Quinn is my driver if I want a driver for something and it''s not Mr. Trey taking me places. He lets me look at his gun sometimes, too. There are more than just them, though. Mr. Trey owns a security company and has guards making sure his property is safe and secure and that unwanted people don''t show up."

    "I see," Landon says. "So there are a lot of security guards there, but it sounds like you like them?"

    "They''re all really nice," I tell him as he flips over a 7 of Hearts. "Even the scary ones."

    The 7 of Diamonds was¡­ this one! I was right and now have a color pair, so I move both cards to the side.

    "That''s good," he says. "Is there anything else you don''t like about living there?"

    "The room Mr. Trey assigned me is on the second floor."

    "Have you told him that heights scare you and even being on the second floor makes you nervous?" Landon asks.

    "I haven''t."

    "Why not?"

    "He put a lot of money into making the room good for me," I tell him. "Renovations and everything. Even if he didn''t, he assigned it to me. Telling an adult I don''t like the assignment is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!"

    "Depends on the assignment," he says. "Are there bedrooms on the first floor?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "But Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie both live on the second floor."

    "Ms. Katie?"

    "His live-in chef that he''s in love with and who loves him back," I explain. "Though they refuse to admit that they''re in love with each other even when they''re looking in my eyes. And they know I can tell. Mr. Trey told me this morning that ''it''s complicated'', which I think is just him not really having a reason and not liking that I''m right. I didn''t get into trouble, but he''s probably upset with me¡­ anyway, she''s got her own room. It''s across from him. And the one the security guards use if they need to sleep after their shift is done and are too tired to go home or whatever is on the second floor, too."

    "Could you try something?" Landon asks.

    "Try what?" I ask as I match another color pair and move to them to the side.

    That''s four pairs of the same color and number now. I''m doing this faster than normal, which is definitely a sign that my memory is better now. Or at least, my really short-term memory.

    "Try letting him know you''re scared of heights," he tells me. "And that while you can''t see that you''re higher up, being on the second floor makes you nervous. That you feel like the floor is going to break and you''re going to fall through it."

    "But what if he gets mad at me?"

    "Would you want to live with someone who gets upset at their kid having a fear?" Landon asks. "Or would you prefer to live with someone who acknowledges their son''s fears and tries to help him with them?"

    "Someone who doesn''t try to make me eat my fears."

    "You mean someone who doesn''t try to force you into them?"

    "Yeah."

    "Where did you get ''eat'' from?"

    "I don''t know."

    Landon laughs a little at that.

    "So aside from how big the house is," he says. "How many people there are around, and your room being on the second floor, is there anything you dislike about living there?"

    "There''s not."

    "What do you like about living there?" He asks.

    "How much food there is to eat," I tell him. "I can eat anytime I want, even at night. Sort of. It depends on what I want to eat. And I don''t have to share a room with someone else. Nick was nice and all, but it''s even nicer that I don''t have someone else in the room. And I got to learn how to swim and not be too afraid to get into the water, and Mr. Trey''s hired a couple of professional teachers to help me with fitness and trying to get caught up on academics so I can be ready for the eighth grade properly. There are lots of peaches to eat, too. He bought part of the peach orchard that was behind his property when it was shutting down and I''m allowed to eat peaches from the trees whenever I want. And he''s got a big theater room where I can watch documentaries¡­"

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "What''s wrong with Cal?" Dad asks. "Isn''t he supposed to be getting ready for work? He starts at noon."

    I look at Dad, who''s dressed ready to do owner stuff at his restaurant. He''s probably on his way out and his confusion definitely comes from the same thing which resulted in his question: Cal still being in shorts and a sleeveless and just sitting on the couch staring off into space with an unfocused gaze.

    Apparently, he''s more concerned about that than he is the device I''m working on. The first question is usually "Greyson, what are you making?"

    "He''s currently processing the visions he had from the true total sensory deprivation bath I gave him," I inform Dad. "The good news is that he now believes me when I say that I use it to visualize the universe."

    "And the bad news?" Dad asks.

    "He''ll probably need to call in sick to work," I say. "It''s a lot to process if you''re not used to it."

    Cal slowly turns his head to meet Dad''s gaze.

    "I saw the birth of a world."

    "Yeah," I nod. "I usually see that at least once or twice in a two-hour session. It''s not very impressive after the hundredth time."

 Chapter 0058

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts during Chapter 57

    "To me! To me!" I yell and Sam throws the football.

    I catch it in a roll and spring back to my feet, pumping my fists up into the air with the football sort-of held in one of them. The ball falls out of my hand, but that''s fine because I''ve made it past the goal line so it''s a point to Blue Team.

    We''re not doing shirts-versus-skins this time like we did on Sunday since everyone playing right now is comfortable in whatever. Since it''s a little warmer this week than last week and we''re running around a lot, we''re almost all shirtless to help keep us cool and I''m thinking of changing into swim trunks and heading over to the water pad here at the park. That place will really cool me down.

    The only person playing with a shirt on is Macy, mostly because she''s a girl and yeah. She''s on my team and is pretty good at flag football even with some of the whacky rules we added. Ethan''s on Green Team with Connor and Sam; Ethan and Macy showed up together just like they did last weekend. I guess they live really close to each other.

    Our teams have five members each this time, with four other boys who joined us. I''m not really familiar with three of them but the fourth is Travis King, one of the classmates with Sam and Isaac and Greyson''s older brother. It''s weird that he''s joined us today since he doesn''t really do sports stuff. The few times I''ve seen him at the park, he''s drawing or sketching something.

    Usually an alternate version of the park''s current scene with a giant octopus attacking it.

    "I need a breather!" Ethan calls out.

    "Same!" Connor shouts.

    "Same," Travis says.

    "Let''s take a break now?" I ask. "We''ve been playing for awhile and could all probably use a break and some water."

    Everyone agrees to that and we all head to the table where the ten of us dumped our things. I''m glad that it really was just a chores issue for my close friends, though I kind of wish Xander were here. He seemed to have a lot of fun last weekend even if he didn''t at first and I think he''d have fun today, too.

    "Surprised you''re playing with us," Isaac tells Travis as we all sit at the table and pull out water and snacks. "You normally just sketch, right?"

    "Yeah," Travis says, not expanding on why he''s joined us.

    "How''re your brothers?" Sam pokes him in the side. "We don''t talk much during summer since you never come out. Are they all still a pain?"

    "Cal''s never a pain," Travis tells him. "Henry''s in a foul mood, and Greyson is¡­ well, when I left home, he was ''meditating in the bath''. It''s something he does two or three times a week. I dunno the reason for it."

    "Henry''s always in a foul mood," Sam groans. "I hate being around him. And he''s going into middle school this year, right? So we''ll be seeing him."

    "At least we''re in eighth grade," Travis says. "Fifth graders have lunch with the sixth graders, so we won''t see him much."

    While they talk, I look at the three guys I don''t really recognize. I mean, I do recognize one of them since he goes to our school, but we''ve never really spoken before. He moved into the area last year and has always been a little on the quieter side.

    He also always wears baggy clothes, so seeing him in shorts and a sleeveless really surprised me. I didn''t even recognize him at first, so used to him wearing baggy clothes I am. And when he took his shirt off¡­ I never imagined he was the kind of guy who''d work out or do athletic stuff but he''s fit as heck, too!

    It''s probably a good thing Xander''s not here, he''d definitely see Russell and think he''s extra proof of the "abs mean you''re healthy" thing. We still can''t get that idea out of his head.

    Just what got it into his head in the first place?

    Russell has sandy-blond hair and green eyes, while the other two boys are fraternal twins with brown hair and blue eyes. They''re both lean and toned, but not with six-packs, so Xander would probably wonder if they''re sick.

    I probably shouldn''t look at them without saying something for too long.

    "Where do you guys go to school?" I ask the twins once they finish answering Ethan''s question about their favorite sports. "I don''t think I''ve seen you around before."

    "We''ll be going to Dragon Falls next month," the one on the left, Owen, says.

    "Just moved here yesterday," Chris, the one on the right, says.

    "Oh!" I bounce a little. "Welcome to the area! If you ever want to hang out, where we''re at is always the best place! Though we do explore nature quite a lot, so if that''s not your thing, maybe avoid those bits."

    "There''s a lot of nature to explore around here," Sam tells the twins. "Hiking trails, streams, ponds, springs, waterfalls, and more!"

    "Speak of water," I say. "I think I''m gonna change to trunks and go to the water pad. Anyone else?"

    As some of them say they''re going to join me, Russell''s attention gets drawn to something else and the look on his face is a bit weird. It''s like he''s happy but nervous. Once Travis, Sam, Connor, and Owen all say they''re going to go play at the water pad, too, I look at what caught Russell''s attention and find¡­

    Xander. He''s walking a bit weird, sort of like he''s doing small one-foot hops from spot to spot as if avoiding stepping on something but also to avoid having both feet on the ground at once. Wherever he went must have made him really comfortable for him to do something like that with others around. He always seems like he wants to avoid anything that could get him made fun of.

    "Hi, Xander!" I call over to him, then wave when he looks up as everyone else looks over.

    "Hi," Xander says, then walks the rest of the way over. "Oh! Hi, Russell!"

    "Hi, Xander," Russell looks uncomfortable and is looking around for something for some reason.

    "You guys know each other?" I ask as everyone else greets Xander.

    "We see each other sometimes," Russell says. Why is his face redder now than it was after running around, playing flag football? "I thought you didn''t like going to the park?"

    "I didn''t," Xander tells him. "But I became friends with S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac and they hang out here. Why is everyone but Macy shirtless? Were you going to go play at the water pad?"

    "We all got sweaty playing basketball and football," I tell him. "Some of us were going to change into trunks and play at the water pad to cool off some, though."

    "Oh," Xander looks at Russell. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

    "Um, sure," Russell says. "Let me find my shirt first, though."

    Why would he need his-ooooooooooh.

    He likes Xander doesn''t he? I bet he''s feeling super self-conscious now that Xander''s shown up.

    Wait. He and Xander know each other well enough for that but they aren''t friends? I am so confused but I doubt I''d get answers out of either of them so I just grab my trunks from my backpack and head to the bathroom to change. Once I have and my other clothes are stuffed back into my backpack at the table, I head to the water pad with the others who changed to swimwear.

    It seems Russell ended up not putting on his shirt, and he and Xander are talking off to the side. I really want to know what that discussion is about but the dads would get upset if they learned I tried to push into a private conversation between others.

    So I resist the urge and start playing in the water pad. It''s a spacious zone with a textured floor and many tiny holes throughout it. Water sprays up either in jets or fans or bursts, and some of them move back and forth or turn on and off in sequences. There are a lot of little kids playing in the water, but also some older kids like us.

    There''s more than enough room for that.

    I start chasing some of the kids through the water jets, and they let out squeals and giggles as they try to escape the water monster. This wears me out a lot but it''s pretty fun, as is throwing water ball toys around and just running through the water sprays. When I finally tire enough that I really need a break from playing around, I return to the table with my stuff.

    Everyone else is still there, though Xander, Ethan, Russell, and Macy are playing with a hacky sack and Isaac and Chris are watching while talking.

    "Hi guys," I plop down on the bench around the table, then grab my water bottle and take a big drink from it. "I think it''s almost time for lunch."

    "I agree with that," a not-kid voice says and the three of us at the table turn to look at the speaker.

    It''s Mr. Thompson, and he''s here with Mr. Fuller and Aunt Rachel. Mr. Fuller has a cooler in his hands, while Aunt Rachel and Mr. Thompson each have canvas grocery bags which look full.

    "Grilling at the park?" I ask.

    "Grilling at the park," Mr. Thompson confirms. "Where''s Connor?"

    "Being a water monster to some five-year-olds."

    "What?" Mr. Thompson looks confused.

    "He''s at the water pad," I giggle as I point over that way. "Some of us were doing it to cool off. I''ve been playing here more than an hour longer than anyone else and basically been nonstop so I''m wiped!"

    "You also haven''t taken any breaks, you dummy," Isaac playfully whacks me on the head. "We''ve all taken breaks but you''ve been going nonstop! A park barbecue rather than at someone''s house?"

    It''s not like we never do these, it''s just unusual.

    "Would you rather we went to someone''s house just for lunch?" Mr. Thompson asks.

    "Nope!" Isaac answers. "But there''s a big group of us¡­ did you bring enough for all our friends, too?"

    "Of course!" Mr. Thompson laughs. "We always expect extra kids when we grill here for you."

    That''s probably not a bad idea. There are eleven of us right now and I''d feel bad if we had to tell some of our friends they can''t eat with us when we''re all hanging out together.

    "We brought the cooler jugs as well," Mr. Thompson tells us. "Sig, Isaac, why don''t you two go get them from my car?"

    "Yes, sir!" We respond, and I look at Isaac. "Race you there!"

    "Ha!" He laughs. "You''re so tired, you''ll fall asleep on the way!"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts during Sig''s PoV

    -and if I hop like this, the fairies flutter again. Another hop but like this, and the fairies spin in circles. A double hop like this, and the not-real fairies shimmer. Another hop, and the real fairies flutter again. Then if I hop again-

    "Hi, Xander!" A friendly voice calls out and I look up to see S.G. waving at me.

    So he is still here! But I was going in the wrong direction for that, maybe I should''ve paid attention to where I was going. Trenton likes watching the fairies move around so I was showing them to him since there are a lot more out right now than usual, though I also like seeing them dance and move around, too. That made me even more distracted when I was meaning to see if S.G. and the others were still here.

    "Hi," I walk over to them, only noticing Russell when I reach them.

    He''s busy looking around as if he''s looking for something, but he looks nice, even if a bit sweaty. Everyone at the table is sweaty so they were probably playing something. His sandy-blond hair is darkened and stuck to his head and his green eyes make me think of forest leaves again.

    And the not-real fairies like him. They''re all swarmed around him, just like they do with S.G. Trenton claims that means they''re really good people blessed by the gods. Everyone at the table has a lot of the not-real fairies around them, but not swarmed like Russel and S.G. are. Trenton says that just means the others are really good people, but they aren''t blessed by the gods.

    I asked him about the not-real fairies on Tuesday, when I realized that they like some people more than others and even swarm around some. Those seem to draw out the real fairies, too, so this many people who the not-real fairies like being here is probably why there are more real fairies in one area than usual.

    "Oh!" I exclaim in the same moment I realize he''s here. "Hi, Russell!"

    "Hi, Xander," he looks at me for a moment and gives me a small smile, then goes back to looking for something.

    Did he lose something? He usually looks at me for longer.

    "You guys know each other?" S.G. asks while the others greet me.

    "We see each other sometimes," Russell answers before looking at me. "I thought you didn''t like going to the park?"

    The last time the park came up between us, I probably mentioned not liking the park because of all the people and not being comfortable. I don''t remember such a discussion, but my memory was worse back then.

    "I didn''t," I tell him. "But I became friends with S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac and they hang out here. Why is everyone but Macy shirtless? Were you going to go play at the water pad?"

    That would make more sense. Maybe they''re getting ready to go to the water pad to cool off after playing something else and getting all sweaty.

    "We all got sweaty playing basketball and football," S.G. tells me. "Some of us were going to change into trunks and play at the water pad to cool off some, though."

    So I was partly right.

    "Oh," I look at Russell. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

    Since I don''t know how often I''ll get to see him now, I want to talk with him while I have the chance. It''s going to be big for me to do this but I need to brave through it and then reward myself with cheesecake later.

    Landon said that Russell hasn''t shown up at the sanctuary at all in the last few weeks. Since he''s normally there every day, they reached out to see if he was doing fine, which they could do because they knew his last name and could look him up. He apparently was doing fine, and he looks really happy right now, too.

    He still looks healthy, too. I was a little worried when I learned he didn''t show up for awhile, but he still has his abs so he must not have gotten sick for a long time.

    "Um, sure," Russell says. "Let me find my shirt first, though."

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "Okay," I say as some of the others grab their swim trunks and leave.

    "Where did I put it?" Russell opens up his backpack to look.

    "Won''t it be uncomfortable since you''re all sweaty?" I ask.

    "Well, yeah," he says. "But I''m also uncomfortable because-and you don''t like being close to people who are shirtless-and-argh!"

    Why did he let out a shout like that?

    "I can put up with it if it''s you," I tell him. "I swim with a kid who lives next door and his other neighbor sometimes, and I''ve gone swimming with S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac, too."

    "But I don''t like being the reason you''re uncomfortable¡­" he says. "I can''t find my shirt, though."

    "You''re sitting on it."

    Russell checks under him and finds his shirt, his face turning bright red.

    "Oh," he says. "Wait. You knew it was there but didn''t say?"

    Is he upset with me?

    "I was confused about you wanting it," I say. "That''s why I asked."

    "Oh¡­"

    He thinks for a few moments, then shakes his head and gets up and beckons for me to follow.

    "We can talk over here without getting heard," he says.

    We walk a little bit away from the table, just far enough away that only someone with good hearing like me or who uses magic to hear more would hear us. No one else is close by. I put up a barrier just in case. It''s invisible and only prevents us from being heard from outside.

    It''s not illegal to cast this sort of spell. I checked before learning it. Well, the reason I wanted to learn it was to put up a barrier which prevented loud sounds from reaching me, but altering the spell a little makes it work to give us privacy for a discussion.

    "What, um, what did you want to talk about?"

    "You told me earlier this year," I say. "That you thought I was ''a little cute'' and you wanted to know if we could date. And I freaked out on you back then, but then Landon talked with me and I realized what you meant. Sort of. What is dating to you?"

    Mr. Trey asking me what it means to me made me realize that there are different types, and I want to see if Russell views it the same way. There was the statement that I have a view common about people my age so he probably does, but I want to make sure.

    "Um¡­" he thinks for a few moments. "I just wanna be around you? And sit next to you when eating. I mean, I did that at the, uh, at the other place we''ve seen each other. But like, I also sometimes wanna hug you. Or hold your hand while we''re sitting together. Or maybe while walking somewhere like to an ice cream shop."

    That''s basically the same as me, then.

    "Also," he adds. "You''re a lot cuter now."

    "I put on weight and grew a little," I tell him. "And I stopped dyeing my hair."

    "I noticed," he smiles. "I like your natural color. You look a lot happier, too."

    "I am happier," I tell him. "Um. I never told you or anyone else at the safe place, but I''m a foster kid. And bad stuff happened to me before¡­"

    "Lots of kids who go there had bad stuff happen," he says. "Or they''re just depressed. Did you get adopted? Is that why you''re happier?"

    "Not adopted," I say. "But I got put in a new home and my foster-dad is super nice. And he doesn''t make fun of me for talking to Trenton and he doesn''t tell me that Trenton''s not able to speak and that I need to stop ''playing pretend'' even though I''m not and Trenton really does speak."

    I look down at Trenton, then at Russell.

    "He''s upset I didn''t tell you that he says ''hi''," I say.

    "Hi, Trenton!" Russell greets him. "It''s cool that you got some nice parents now. My parents and I are¡­ doing better. They''re starting to accept me."

    They didn''t like him doing art at all even though he really likes it and it made him depressed. Not as badly as I was depressed, and I think there was other stuff as well. It''s cool that they''re happier now, though.

    "That''s great!" I tell him. "So that''s why you haven''t been there recently?"

    "Yeah," he nods. "I''ve been a lot happier and didn''t need to get away. What about you? If you only learned today that I haven''t been in awhile, then you haven''t been there since May? You weren''t there at all for a couple of weeks in June."

    "Mr. Trey ¨C that''s my foster-dad ¨C requires that I tell him where I''m going," I say. "But he didn''t ask me to tell him about that one today, he just knew that it''s a safe place for me. So I didn''t go because I didn''t want him to know where it was."

    "Oh," he says. "I guess that makes sense. It''s good to see you again, though!"

    "It makes me happy to see you again," I tell him. "Mr. Trey said it''s okay for me to date if that''s how I view dating, but I think it''s also because I''m going into the eighth grade. So if we''re hanging out together, do you want to sit next to me lots? Oh, but he says he has to meet you first. But I don''t think that means we can''t sit next to each other lots."

    "Sure!" He smiles. "Also, do you have a phone? We can text a lot, too."

    "I do," I tell him. "Do you want my number? I want yours, if that''s okay."

    Russell pulls out his phone, so I pull out mine and we swap numbers so we can chat. His first message to me is a picture of him holding up a drawing he made of a wolf, except the wolf has wings and a halo and is summoning lightning.

    "That''s so you can have a profile picture for me," he says.

    "Oh, okay," I say. "Um¡­ please give me some time to check my pictures. Mr. Trey takes a lot with my phone. Ms. Katie does sometimes, too."

    The one I pick should definitely not show that I live with a rich man, so I''ll need to be careful of that as well. I don''t know how well Russell would react to that or if he''d think he could us me to get money. He probably won''t, but I want to be safe. It''s not my money, anyway.

    Well, I do have a lot of money now, but I don''t want someone trying to take it from me.

    "Okay!"

    Russell watches while I look through the pictures on my phone, then I settle on one where I don''t think I look as ugly and send it to him. It''s a picture of me sitting against one of the peach trees in Mr. Trey''s backyard, though the peaches in the tree aren''t visible since the picture''s too low for that. I do have a half-eaten peach in my right hand and Trenton on my lap in the picture, though.

    Russell snickers when he gets the text with the picture.

    "Is it a bad picture?" My face heats up. "I''m so sorry! Um. I was trying to pick a good one but-"

    "It''s a cool picture!" Russell giggles. "I just wasn''t expecting to see you eating in it! You usually hide when eating at the other place."

    "Oh," I say. "That''s a peach tree I''m sitting under, and Mr. Trey lets me eat peaches mostly whenever I want. Oh! I have something for you!"

    Just having a peach tree in the yard doesn''t mean someone''s rich, it just means they have a peach tree in their yard. It''s safe to mention that.

    "You do?" Russell looks confused.

    "Yeah," I pocket my phone and pull off my backpack.

    I put Trenton inside my backpack after opening it up, then pull out a puzzle sphere and offer it to him.

    "You like drawing as a hobby," I say. "And I think I''m liking making small magitech things as a hobby. I made a bunch of these yesterday and this morning and gave some of them to my friends. You''re not my friend but I like you enough that you get one, too. Oh, but we''re also almost-dating now so I guess almost-boyfriends? And that has ''friend'' in it. So I guess we''re friends now? Are we friends now?"

    "Do you wanna be friends, too?"

    "Yeah."

    "So do I," he says. "So we''re friends! What''s this?"

    He takes the sphere from me, and I explain how it works.

    "Whoa," he says after activating it, then adjusts some of the triangles. "You made this? This is pretty high magitech, isn''t it?"

    "No," I answer. "It''s just a basic light enchantment for the glow with a function of brightness based on how correct the puzzle is, and pieces that just move up, down, or turn based on when others do. The materials for it costs about $42 in total and it took me, like, thirty minutes to put together and that''s with cutting the pieces to fit. At minimum wage, that''d be about $7.50 an hour. So it''s worth less than $50. High magitech is worth way more than that."

    I factored in the use of the tools and machines for making some of the pieces for the cost of materials, too. Figuring out how to calculate that was difficult but I think I came up with the right numbers.

    With it not even costing $50 in total, that can''t be high magitech. It''s not like the previous version, which I learned is worth millions due to the sensor it uses to detect the exact location of Errai. I only even used about $150 in materials and time to make that sensor.

    How its value went up by so much, I don''t know, but I figured it''s better not to include it in puzzle spheres others are getting. That, and I didn''t want the cost to be more than $50 and the material and labor cost for the sensor alone is higher than that.

    That''s fine for just making stuff at the workshop since I can do whatever I want with the stuff in there regardless of the price, but for my current puzzle sphere project, I need to keep the cost down.

    "Oh," Russell says. "It''s pretty neat. So you really like magitech?"

    "I do," I nod. "These are easier to make than remote-controlled cars. Those take me so long and are so frustrating, but I like making puzzle spheres. They''re fun."

    "Yeah," he says.

    "Do you wanna play a game or something?" I ask. "Or do you want to play with the sphere?"

    Please want to play something.

    "Sure! We can play something!" He says. "What do you wanna play?"

    Yes! He wants to play something with me!

    "Hacky sack," I tell him. "You?"

    "I''ve never played with one of those before," he tells me. "How do you play?"

    We go back over to the table and he puts the puzzle sphere in his backpack, then I pull a hacky sack from mine. I bought a few things to bring to the park, including my own hacky sack, after last weekend.

    After I show Russell how to play with the hacky sack and he practices for a couple of minutes, we start playing with passing it back and forth.

    "But make sure we don''t get too close or we might kick each other," I tell him.

    "Got it!"

    We play with just the two of us for a little bit, then Macy and Ethan ask if they can join us. After forming a sort of square with the four of us, we start playing as a group and it''s really fun. I practiced with the hacky sack and a couple of the guards at Mr. Trey''s house after dinner yesterday and on Thursday so I''m better at it now, too.

    Nobody gets mad when I accidentally kick the sack wrong, or when I hit Macy in the face with it by accident. While there''s the rule about not apologizing for bad kicks¡­ I still apologize for that one.

    "Hi, guys!" S.G. says when he returns to the table, grabbing his water bottle to take a big drink from it. "I think it''s almost time for lunch."

    My stomach agrees with him on that, as does Mr. Thompson, who approached at the same time. I saw him and Mr. Fuller and Ms. Rachel walking over when S.G. returned, but I''m in the middle of playing a game and can''t just stop without ruining it.

    "Break time?" Ethan asks after a bad kick sends Russell to retrieve the sack while S.G. and Isaac are getting cooler jugs. "Sounds like food''s coming soon."

    We all agree to stop for now, me because I really want some food now and could use a breather and the others¡­ probably for the same reason. As we stop, a boy who looks kind-of familiar comes over and grabs a water bottle.

    "Excuse me," I whisper to him, and he looks at me. "Do we know each other? You look really familiar but I don''t recognize you. But I also had a bad memory until recently."

    Hopefully he doesn''t get mad if we do know each other and I''ve just forgotten. It''s not my fault my memory was awful. But since Trenton told me the other day about the not-fairies thing meaning that he''s a good person, he probably won''t get mad at me.

    "Um¡­" he says. "I don''t think I know you. What''s your name?"

    "I go by Xander."

    "Oh!" He says. "You know my older brother, Cal. He works at the Wolf''s Dragon. He''s mentioned you before. And I think I heard this week that you know Greyson?"

    "You''re their brother, too?" I ask.

    "Yeah," he says. "And I promise you, Greyson is probably as dorky at home as he is whenever you two are hanging out."

    He looks around as if making sure we can''t be overheard, then whispers to me.

    "You know he''s a dreamsage, right?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I whisper back, we''re not close enough to the others for it to be heard without really good hearing or magic, but I put up a sound-privacy barrier anyway. "He says he eats my bad dreams if I nap near him."

    "I''ve known he can go into dreams for years," Travis giggles. "He pops into mine all the time. Last night, I was having a dream about magic octopus thingies playing beach volleyball and a weird one showed up and joined in to play one-on-eight against the ones playing before. I''m pretty sure that was him trying to hide that he was in my dream."

    "It might''ve been him," I agree.

    That definitely sounds like something Greyson would do. He tries to disguise himself as a wolf or a talking cheesecake when he''s in my dreams after he realized that being a griffin made it really obvious it was him.

    "Hey, boys!" Mr. Thompson calls. "We need four of you to fill up the cooler jugs! Two for each to carry back! Any volunteers?"

    "I''ll help," Russell and Ethan answer at the same time.

    "I''m too wiped," S.G. plops onto the bench, having put the cooler jug he''d brought over on the table.

    "I can try," I say.

    "Isaac?" Mr. Thompson looks at Isaac.

    "Yeah," Isaac says, still holding the one he carried over from the car.

    I don''t know where to go but the other three do, and we take the two cooler jugs to a spigot trio that''s apparently just for filling things like this. The park is apparently set up for people to not need to bring their cooler jugs filled with water already. Why they need four boys for this, I''m not sure. It only takes one to carry a jug.

    "We''re not filling them all the way," Isaac says as he sets the one he''s carrying down under one of the spigots. "They''ve got ice to put in as well. Fill up to the eight-gallon line and the rest will be ice."

    Once the jugs are filled, I learn why Mr. Thompson said four boys for this: eight gallons of water is pretty heavy and that makes the jugs a bit awkward for us to carry alone. Isaac holds one handle while I hold the other on one jug, and Russell and Ethan each hold a handle on the other jug.

    Back at the tables, the jugs are set up on one of the park''s tables, but not the one everyone had been at originally. Because it''s a big group that now can''t fit at one table, they moved most of our stuff over to a trio of tables that are close together but still by the big grass playing field. My bag didn''t get moved¡­ probably because it has an enchantment on it to protect it.

    "Travis says that protective magics like your force field are legal," S.G. says. "And that Greyon puts shock enchantments on them. That seems soooo weird! But you''ve got enchantments on your backpack?"

    "It''s a force field enchantment to prevent people from stealing it," I tell him. "And the shock one is allowed as long as it''s not too strong. The enchantment I put on my backpack just keeps anyone other than me from being able to take it without permission. Well, it''s a little more complex than that but that''s as good of an explanation as I can give."

    Since the backpack has a spatial expansion enchantment on it, protective magics are normal. Maybe it''s a sign that it''s worth a lot more than I want them to know, though? That might''ve been a bad idea. But as long as I say it''s because I don''t want it stolen, they might accept it. I don''t want my stuff stolen even if it''s not magic, after all.

    "You can do enchanting, too?" Russell asks.

    This makes me uncomfortable. Not Russell asking but the topic itself.

    "A little," I pull on my backpack. "But it''s nothing compared to what Luke and Greyson can do. Um. I''m gonna go do something. I''ll be back¡­ um¡­ soon. I dunno how long I''ll be."

    "Okay!" Russell says. "Bye, Xander!"

    The others tell me bye or just wish me luck, then I leave. Once I''m far enough away, I teleport with the spell to make sure I''m not noticed. The place I appear at is a smoothie shop I''ve never been to before, but I want a smoothie right now and don''t want to ask Ms. Katie for one.

    If Mr. Trey is right, then I''m allowed in restaurants and shops like this. I''m still doubtful, but I take a few deep breaths and enter.

    "Welcome!" The girl behind the counter greets me. "How can I help you today?"

    Mr. Trey taught me that that''s how employees often ask what I''d like, such as what food I want to order. She''s already asking me and I don''t even know what types of smoothies they serve yet! She''s making me pick without giving me time to think! I must''ve really fucked up and need to leave sooner than later!

    "Um¡­ I''m not sure what I want," I tell her. "Other than a smoothie."

    "Okay," she says. "We''ve got a big selection to choose from, including some pre-planned ones or build-your own. You can see what we have up on the menu. Let me know when you''re ready."

    I''m not being forced to pick now? Oh. Okay. That gives me time to learn what they have and think so I look over the menu and try to decide what I want. They have so many options. In addition to build-my-own, I can choose ones like triple-berry, strawberry-banana, banana-peach, and more. Those three sound good, but they even have some lemonade variants.

    I''m feeling like I want something with blueberries right now, so let''s see¡­ I don''t remember ever having blueberry lemonade before so I''m not sure if I''d like that one. Triple-berry might be good, except it has raspberries and I''m not really fond of those. I could just do a strawberry-blueberry one, though.

    Bravery today. That''s what I want to do. Something new even if it scares me and I might not like it.

    Okay! I''ve decided!

    "May I please have a 20oz blueberry lemonade smoothie?" I ask.

    "Sure," she answers. "That''s $7 for it."

    I pay for the smoothie, then she mixes it up and gives it to me along with my receipt, which I put into my wallet. The smoothie tastes really good when I take a sip of it, the lids from this shop designed for allowing us to sip the smoothie rather than needing a straw.

    Which makes me happy. I don''t have to put a straw into it even if I won''t use it. Since the smoothie is good, that''s two good thing about this smoothie shop. Three if all of the employees here are as friendly as the one currently working is.

    I might come back again.

    "Thank you," I tell her.

    "Have a good day!" She says.

    I leave and teleport back to the park, where the group of kids I met up with are doing different things. S.G., Connor, and Travis are resting at a table while looking pretty exhausted, Russel, Ethan, Macy, and Sam are kicking a soccer ball around, and Isaac and the twins (I haven''t learned their names yet) are playing with a hacky sack. Mr. Thompson, Mr. Fuller, and Ms. Rachel are talking by a grill that''s close to the three tables.

    "Welcome back, Xander," Mr. Thompson says when he sees me. "That was a fast trip."

    "It didn''t take me long," I say.

    "Isn''t that smoothie place, like, a ten-minute walk away?" Connor asks when he looks over. "You got that fast."

    S.G. and Travis both look like they''re realizing something but Connor just looks confused.

    "The smoothie is good," I say. "Mr. Thompson, I realized, but how come there were two water coolers? So that we don''t need to refill one?"

    With ten boys, one girl, and three adults, we might go through eight gallons of water plus however much ice melts into it.

    "One''s for lemonade," he snorts. "Would already have it, but S.G. volunteered to mix it but wore himself out playing."

    "Just like¡­ five more minutes," S.G. says.

    "I still need to get the ice from the car," Mr. Fuller says. "I''ll go get that now."

    "I can mix it if you''re okay with that," I tell S.G. and Mr. Fuller leaves. "So you can rest more."

    "Sure," S.G. says. "Thanks."

    "In the green bag," Mr. Thompson tells me. "There''s a jug of lemonade powder. Not the fake stuff you might have seen before, it''s lemon juice mixed with sugar, then powdered. Inside the container are two scoops, a small one and a big one. Do ten scoops of the big one and don''t worry about leveling it off. Just scoop, dump, scoop, dump, and so on. Once you''re done, take the big wooden-looking spoon from the bag and stir until it''s dissolved. Don''t worry if you lose count, just try to reach ten. It''s okay to be over or under a little."

    I don''t need to be precise? That''s so unlike baking where precision is really important. I''ll still try to do ten scoops but at least I know I won''t get into trouble if I count wrong.

    "Okay," I set down my smoothie and backpack, then mix up the lemonade after checking with the adults which cooler jug it''s supposed to be.

    The answer to that is "either one".

    Mr. Fuller returns with bags of ice while I mix the lemonade, then he fills both jugs with the ice. He does wait until I''m done, which I''m happy about. The ice would probably make it more difficult to stir since there''s a lot of it.

    I rinse the spoon off at the spigots after being told that it''s okay to use them for that, then it gets set on top of the jug with the lemonade in it. After that, I sit at one of the tables and watch the others play while the adults grill beef hot dogs and frozen burger patties for us to eat. We''re allowed to eat the chips and other snacks they brought, and there are drinks other than lemonade and water in the cooler.

    Even though I''m not really playing with the others, just watching, this is kind of fun. Is this what a barbecue that''s not at someone''s house is like? A bunch of kids playing in smaller groups rather than one group, some resting, the adults talking, and food to eat without having to hide it?

    I like this and want to do it more often.

 Chapter 0059

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Yes, Xander?" Mr. Thompson asks when I approach him and the other adults.

    Most of the other kids have either left or are playing right now and I didn''t want to interrupt those still here from their fun. Only S.G., Connor, Sam, and Isaac are still here, with the others all leaving within an hour of finishing lunch. They stuck around and played for a bit so it''s not like they left right after lunch finished, except for Travis who said he wanted to get home after he ate.

    The adults were talking when I walked up to them, but it doesn''t seem like I''m in trouble for wanting to say something while they were talking.

    That''s good.

    "Is there some way to let the others know I''m leaving without interrupting their game?" I ask. "It''s almost two now and there''s stuff I want to do. I know I could just text them but I don''t know if they''d see it until it''s clear I''m gone¡­"

    "They won''t mind you interrupting them to let them know," he tells me.

    That doesn''t make sense because who''s okay with getting interrupted? But he suggests I try so I walk over to where the others are playing with a red disc that they''re throwing around. I wanted to rest a bit after the last game so I didn''t join in for the disc even though it was fun to play last weekend.

    "You wanna join?" S.G. asks.

    "Not right now," I tell him. "But you''ll probably be done by the time I return."

    "Return?" He asks as everyone walks over to me. "You''re leaving again?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "There''s other stuff I want to do today. So bye, everyone."

    "What is it?" S.G. asks. "Is it something we can all do?"

    The next couple of things are, but I don''t want them to come with me. I like them all and like hanging out with them, but I don''t want to make them upset at not getting to do the stuff they want to do, and I know they were talking about maybe going swimming at one of the nearby ponds after this. Even if I honestly tell them I don''t mind sitting out, they try to pick something I want to do and I don''t want to make them feel like they have to.

    No matter what I say, they''ll probably get upset with me unless I tell them they can come, but that would make me upset since I don''t want them to. This is something I like to do alone.

    "It is," I tell him. "But I like to do it alone."

    "Oh," he says. "Okay! We''ll let you know when we''re leaving the park, in case you finish and want to come here!"

    They don''t seem mad, but they could be hiding it. They''ll probably stop inviting me to hang out now that I''ve told them there''s something I want to do without them.

    "Bye," I say, then they wish me a good rest of the day or tell me goodbye, and I leave.

    I walk to the pet store to pet the dogs up for adoption there today and when Turtle is let out last, he''s feeling very sad. Apparently, a family took him in yesterday morning and returned him last night because he was too hyper for them.

    After I''ve pet all of the dogs here, I head to the Wolf''s Dragon.

    "Hello, Emily," I greet her when I approach the counter.

    As usual for Saturdays at this time, there''s only that couple of boys sitting at one of the tables in here. If I didn''t want to do something else today, I''d probably eat in here as well now that I know I''m allowed to.

    "Good afternoon, Xander," Emily says. "Will this be for here or to go?"

    "To go, please," I answer.

    "Eating it outside?" She asks.

    "No," I answer. "But I want to do something else right now so I''ll eat it during that, if Mr. Trey allows me to."

    "Okay," she says. "And what would you like?"

    "May I please have a slice of the red-white-and-blue cheesecake?" I ask. "To go, please."

    "That''ll be $5," she tells me. "You can pay once I bring it up."

    "Okay," I say.

    Emily heads to the back and after a few minutes, returns with one of the to-go boxes for the cheesecake and a to-go cup.

    "That''s a slice of our red-white-and-blue cheesecake," Emily tells me. "Which is $5, and a berry-peach milkshake, on the house."

    "I have to drink it on a house?"

    I''d probably get into a lot of trouble if I tried, even if I asked.

    "No!" She laughs a little. Oh, no! I did something wrong! "It means it''s complimentary, that we''re covering the cost of it."

    "Oh¡­"

    I really am stupid. S.G. and the others probably would''ve known what she meant without needing it explained.

    "Um¡­ here''s the $5," I hand her the money, and she rings me up, then puts the cheesecake in a bag with some napkins and a fork, then hands that, the cup, and my receipt to me. "Have a good day, Emily."

    "You as well, Xander," she smiles. "I hope whatever you''re planning on goes well!"

    I leave the restaurant and once I reach the parking lot, I put the bag, receipt, and drink into my backpack. The enchantment I placed on it prevents stuff from falling over or spilling within the bag, so I don''t have to worry about things getting messed up in there with the drink.

    Just as I pull my backpack on, my phone starts ringing with the tone I set for Mr. Trey.

    Stupid fucking me. Of course he''d call me after I asked him what I did. He''s probably mad at me and now I need to return to his house. It was a stupid idea.

    "H-hello?"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Question: why did you want to buy knee and elbow pads and a helmet, then go to Greyson''s workshop? I can''t imagine they''d be useful against explosions and I know you don''t want to learn how to ride a bike."

    He''s just asking me this to make me relax before telling me I''m in trouble. It''s better to be honest about my reasons now and get into trouble for it than to get into trouble for not being honest and get a big beating for hiding stuff.

    "Because S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac ride their bikes to lots of places," I say. "And while S.G. just walked his bike to the park once he got donuts, which he said is normal for them, he''ll ride it other places. But if I''m going with them, they can''t ride their bikes and stay with me that easily, they have to walk them. And that''d probably make them unhappy and not want to hang out. So I was thinking¡­ if I made a hoverboard, I could go with them and not have to ride a bike."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments, probably as he decides on how to tell me how stupid my idea is, just like me.

    "Aren''t you scared of hoverboards?"

    That''s what he asks? That''s not what I was expecting at all, but I guess it''s his way of trying to call me stupid nicely.

    "N-I''m not."

    Whew. Almost said "no" as the answer, and that would''ve beenbad. I''m lucky he hasn''t punished me for the past times, but there will come a time when he''s done letting it happen. Just telling him he''s wrong is already bad enough.

    "They aren''t much different from a skateboard, are they?" He asks.

    "They are, though," I say.

    "They are?"

    Oh. Maybe he''s testing me?

    "Yeah," I answer. Should I explain? This is probably a time I should explain my answer. "Skateboards are a thin piece of wood or something with wheels. A hoverboard hovers and floats. There''s no contact with the ground. And real hoverboards don''t exist yet as something you can buy at a normal store while a lot of normal stores that sell sports stuff have skateboards so that''s another difference. I don''t know where you could buy one at, but they probably cost a lot. Hoverboards, I mean, not skateboards. Greyson should have all of the stuff at his workshop I need to make it, and Grandpa Adrian''s dropped off materials I can use. He even put a note on them saying they''re for me to use for whatever I want. That made Greyson jealous, since he has restrictions on what he''s allowed to make."

    Mr. Trey laughs a little.

    "Okay," he says. "You can go to the store and get the pads and helmet. Dinner will be at six tonight, be home with enough time to get cleaned up before then, okay?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "See you then, Xander," he says.

    "Bye, Mr. Trey," I say.

    He hangs up, then I pocket my phone and walk to the nearest store with the stuff I want. I buy pads and a helmet that are black and green, then put them into my backpack after I leave.

    With there being not very long between now and when I need to be back at Mr. Trey''s house, I teleport to the workshop and enter. Greyson doesn''t appear to be here despite it being a Saturday so I guess he''s got stuff with his family.

    In my tinkering zone, I pull off my backpack and eat my cheesecake and drink my milkshake as I get to work.

    The first step is doing some research in Greyson''s database to find out the different types of runes I can use to create the hover/float part of the board. That part''s really important since it''s what will make the hoverboard safer than skateboards. Wheels can pop up or break, like what happened to me earlier this year. I don''t ever want to get back on another skateboard.

    For a hoverboard, there are no wheels. Its hover power will be via magic so the only real maintenance it should need is making sure the enchantment hasn''t begun to wear out. If I put in one of my mana batteries, I won''t have to worry about it running out of fuel during travel, either.

    Both force magic and gravity magic seem like good options for the hover effect, but I''m pretty sure I can get an actual proper hover magic itself. Filter the database by any enchanting runes which can be used to make something hover or can work with others to make a hover effect, then look for commonalities and try to build my own using those if none are suitable. That''s what Greyson says to do when I want to try and figure out a rune on my own. Add in float, flight, and levitation runes as well as they can create similar effects.

    I''m really not sure if that''s right, but within twenty minutes, I''ve managed to figure out three separate runes that are just "hover". The next step is using a plain wooden board to enchant with each to figure out how good they are, then realizing I need to add in additional functions so that it does more than hover.

    This might take longer than I expected, but I do have plenty of mana built up even with my minor magic use recently. I start using my modified version of Greyson''s quicken tempo spell, the one which accelerates my own time but not my aging. To ensure my work isn''t affected, I include the board and my tools as I work.

    Once the first proper test version is ready, I put on my pads and helmet and begin a cautious trip. The board wobbles a lot but I''m able to go from one end of the workshop to the other as long as I go slowly. Two more trips with the speed increased each time, and I learn the limit of the current form.

    Any faster than about five feet per second and the hoverboard starts to flip. At least I didn''t break any bones this time and the pain goes away pretty fast. It still hurt a lot, though.

    Get up and try again.

    That''s what I do. I make some modifications to the test board and test it again over and over until I can go pretty fast. Some magics to prevent the rider from falling off are added in and tested as well. The wobbling is a result of me making the sensory aspect for the enchantment''s directional control, but I don''t think I can solve that with just an enchantment adjustment.

    Not easily. This is going to be magitech so it doesn''t really matter. I already know how to smooth it out for magitech since I needed something similar for my puzzle spheres to stop them from vibrating when the pieces adjust.

    The important thing is that I managed to figure out the float/hover enchantment and tune it somewhat. Now I can get to work on making an actual hoverboard. I need a general layout for it, so I get to work on sketching that.

    There''s the primary enchantment, the balancer which will make trips smoother instead of wobbly, the mana battery, it should have a sensor to keep it from bumping into things, and there should be security enchantments to make sure it doesn''t get stolen.

    Now that this is all sketched out, I get to work on using the machines here to make the alloys and pieces I need for it. I have to use my quicken tempo spell on those as well but I have plenty of mana to spare.

    It''s probably a good thing Greyson asked me if I could make my version of mana batteries for them so that they can have internal power sources.

    By the time I finish, the board is about four feet in length and mostly rectangular. There are thicker pieces made of a different alloy on the ends and sides, covering the primary board itself, though the surface itself is also mostly flush with it as the center of the primary board is thicker to make up for the added height and depth from the edge and end pieces. I added in some grooves on the caps just because it looks cooler than being plain, and I put in a light enchantment on the bottom of the board.

    That one was a little bit tricky, but I made it so that it turns on if the light around the board is under a certain level, excluding underneath the board. The bikes that S.G. and the others have all have lights on their fronts and backs, and I think that''s both to help them see at night but also so that others can see them.

    There are also lights on the front and back of the board, but it doesn''t look like it. Those will also turn on if the light level around them is too low. Since the lights are from a mixture of enchantments and the alloy used on the caps, I didn''t have to worry about the looks of the lights when designing the board. The same goes for the ones underneath.

    I''d probably get laughed at if the lights looked stupid on the board so I made sure they look cool. At least, they do to me and based on the images I looked up of hoverboards in games and shows and cartoons. Glowing lines rather than just the entire thing glowing seems to be the normal way to do it.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I avoided looking up real hoverboards so that I don''t accidentally steal from them.

    Once I finish testing the board and gradually increasing my speed as I ride it around the outside of the workshop, I turn off my quicken tempo spell and clean up my supplies. The board will definitely need more work later to make it more efficient and adjust its sensors and other things, but it''s suitable for now.

    Since I used my quicken tempo spell, it only took me around two hours to build the board so I have plenty of time to ride it to the house for its first test run outside of the workshop. Starting and stopping on the way to the house is just as smooth and easy as it was at the workshop and I kind of want to put on some speed because this is fun.

    But I don''t want to get pulled over for breaking any hoverboard-related speed laws. I should''ve looked those up, but I don''t think I''m breaking any at my current speed since bikes go about as fast as I am. The way the wind feels around me as I soar over the sidewalks, the way the world passes by¡­ this is probably almost what it''s like to fly.

    Grandpa Adrian probably knows what that''s like, since he''s a dragon.

    Wait. No. Stop. Don''t do a flip!

    The hoverboard dips back down and returns to its normal gliding as my heart races. That was¡­ almost a big mistake. I''m probably having too much fun if I''m attempting to do a flip. Whether or not my board can even do one isn''t something I tested and I don''t think it can, but doing a flip might also scare me.

    While that''s not too high, it''s still a quick movement in the air.

    Something I do decide to add in for extra fun is a little spin when I stop, my board tilting up just a little as I go. I almost fall off the first few times, until I figure out the right angle to do the spin-stop at. It''s entirely unnecessary and purely because I like the way I feel when I do them.

    Then I remember that I made sure it has protections against the rider falling off and am more willing to try it out. It still scares me a little, but it''s way more fun to do since I know I won''t fall.

    Eventually, I reach the gate to Mr. Trey''s property, and it feels far too soon for how much fun I''m having.

    "Hello, Xander," the security guard greets me from his gatehouse. "What''s that you''re on?"

    "Hello, Simon," I greet him. "It''s a hoverboard. I didn''t know where to buy one, and that''d probably be really expensive, so I built my own. It kind of wobbles a little on the turns if I go as fast as a bike, so I''ll need to fix that."

    "That''s pretty neat," he tells me. "I''m opening the gate now. Have a good rest of your day, Xander."

    "Have a good rest of your day," I tell him back, then head through the opening gate.

    When I reach the steps up to the front door, I dismount from my hoverboard and put that into my backpack, then pull off my arm and knee pads and my helmet and put those into my backpack as well before entering the house.

    Mr. Trey is easy to find as he''s on the back deck, working on getting ready to start grilling. Ms. Katie has today off and I think Mr. Trey doesn''t know much when it comes to cooking outside of grilling.

    "I''m back," I let him know after stepping to a spot where he can see me.

    "Welcome home," he says. "How did your attempt at making a hoverboard go?"

    "I used a modified version of Greyson''s temporal acceleration spell to give me extra time," I tell him. "It doesn''t make the caster age faster, so it''s safe to use. Even though only around two hours passed, it was around forty hours of technical time thanks to the spell. I got a lot of work done. The board needs some more work to tune it better, but I think it''s pretty good. I''m not sure how it compares to a professionally-made hoverboard, but it worked fine when I was riding it."

    Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments, and that makes me really scared. Did I do something wrong? He told me it was okay for me to make it, didn''t he?

    "That''s good to hear," he says after a few very long moments, then starts putting burger patties on the grill. "So it works?"

    "It does," I nod. "I rode it back here and other than wobbles when I turned, it was mostly smooth and the height remained consistent and I was able to control the speed almost exactly as I wanted. It was really fun, too, and I almost tried to do a flip on the way back, except then I remembered that I''m scared of heights and doing a flip might scare me."

    While I don''t want to tell Mr. Trey I''m scared of heights, this feels like a good way to do so. I''m not sure if I can tell him about the second floor scaring me like Landon told me to.

    "Being on the board isn''t too high?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "No," I shake my head. "It''s lower than the bed and that''s not too high."

    "Oh," he says. "After you asked me about hoverboards, I was looking up information on-wait. You''re scared of heights?"

    I can''t tell if that''s angry or confused. It''s probably angry because why would he be confused?

    "Yeah."

    "I noticed you always hesitate at the stairs," he tells me. "But just assumed it was a quirk of yours. Does being on the second floor scare you?"

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "How come you didn''t say anything?"

    "Because I didn''t want to get beaten."

    "And why would you get beaten?"

    "Because that''s the room you assigned me and telling an adult I don''t want the room they assigned me is Very Bad," I answer. "And you spent lots of money on renovating it so that it''d be how I wanted it and that money would be wasted if you moved my room. Wasting an adult''s money is also Very Bad."

    "Xander," he says. "Please look me in the eyes. Thank you. I will never beat you. You won''t get into trouble for being afraid. When I took you in, I agreed to help you with your fears and make accommodations as needed. I also agreed to be your dad, and being your dad mans that if I have half a dozen or more bedrooms that won''t scare you and which aren''t in use, I''ll let you move into one of them. They''re just sitting there, Xander. There''s no reason you can''t change rooms."

    "But you spent so much money on renovating the one you already assigned me."

    Protesting an adult is also Very Bad, but I want to make sure he knows I don''t want to waste his money.

    "And stop obsessing over my money getting spent on you," he tells me. "We already talked about this, Xander. I have more than enough and you''re my son now. I can foster a dozen kids and spend a little bit less on each, or I can adopt one and spoil him. If you want to move to a bedroom on the first floor, we can move you to a bedroom on the first floor and get it renovated to match your current one. Do you want to move to a bedroom on the first floor?"

    The answer is "yes", but if I say that, the money he spent on the bedroom he''s currently assigned me will be wasted. I know he''s saying he won''t get mad and he''s okay with that happening and he''s being honest about that, but what if his feelings when it happens are different?

    Telling him I''m scared of heights was a bad idea.

    "It''s just a stupid fear," I tell him. "And-and-and¡­ um¡­ it''s already been more than a month. And I mostly feel fine once I''m in bed and surrounded by all of the stuffed animals. Mostly fine yeah. Only sort-of scared the floor''s going to break and I''m going to fall through. And-and-and um¡­ it''s just a stupid fear. Like drowning. And loud noises. Maybe if I sleep up there enough, I''ll stop being scared. Like with going in the pool, sort of. Only I don''t sleep in the pool, I mean just being in the pool."

    Mr. Trey stares at me for several very long moments. He''s definitely mad at me for protesting him and telling him it''s okay not to move my assigned room. That was a bad idea. There are no good options here at all.

    "Okay," he says. "If it gets to be too much for you and you change your mind, let me know. Okay?"

    That''s not anger.

    "Okay."

    "Back to the hoverboards," he says. "I looked them up after you asked me about making one. There aren''t any on the market."

    "They can''t be bought?"

    "Right now," he says. "All that there are for hoverboards are attempts at making prototypes. They''re all either very inefficient or don''t travel very long, whether made from scientech or magitech."

    "So I invented something new?"

    "If it''s functional and isn''t capable of only short trips," he says. "Then yes."

    "It took me ten minutes to get here while mostly going about as fast as a bike would," I tell him. "And I could do spin stops, turns, stops and starts, and control the speed. Since it''s magitech, Greyson would say that once you know it does something, there shouldn''t be a reason it''ll suddenly just stop unless it''s a time where magic decides to do something different."

    If it''s something which doesn''t change functions/actions throughout the process, then the moment you know its function works consistently for a minute, it''s good to go. Stopping, starting, slowing, speeding up¡­ those are all a part of the same function for my hoverboard. Since I managed a ten-minute trip, I know that works.

    Though maybe I should have tested it with the lights turning on and off, in case that interferes? I don''t think it will, though.

    "Decides to do something different?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Magic doesn''t always work consistently. People mostly know how to get magic to do what we want, which is why casting spells and performing enchantments works. But sometimes, magic just acts differently. A mage could cast a fireball the exact same way a million times and one of those times, they might make a puppy appear instead."

    "Something other than you not understanding metaphors makes me think that''s not a metaphor."

    I think that''s him asking what I mean by a puppy appearing instead of a fireball.

    "Greyson once conjured a puppy when trying to summon a fireball," I tell him. "It wasn''t him teleporting it, either. I was observing with my magesight when it happened. The puppy didn''t exist, and then it did! And that''s not a fireball at all, but it was Greyson''s fireball spell he cast. Magic just went ''sorry, but you''re getting a puppy this time'' for some reason."

    Personally, I think magic is just going through a rebel phase, but I''d probably get told I''m stupid for thinking that so I don''t say it.

    "I see," Mr. Trey says. "So barring magic deciding to do something different, the hoverboard should work consistently now that you''ve done a test flight and seen it works?"

    "It would even if I didn''t do the test flights," I haven''t been beaten yet for protesting or refusing to answer the way he was probably wanting in this conversation, so I''m probably safe to correct him. "I just now know it should, since it runs for several minutes without a problem. But I haven''t tested it at a higher speed so I don''t know if things are okay there. The enchantment which prevents someone from falling off might not be strong enough. I was thinking of asking Greyson to test that, since he''s a lot more sturdy than I am."

    Mr. Trey laughs for some reason.

    "If it''s the first real hoverboard," I say. "It''s probably a good thing I put security enchantments on it so that it can''t be stolen."

    "Security enchantments?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah."

    There''s silence between us for a few moments.

    "What do you mean by ''security enchantments''?"

    Is he testing my knowledge?

    "Enchantments which protect it, sort of like security guards but as magic and enchantments instead of people."

    "No-I-that''s not," Mr. Trey takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I meant, what did you do as security enchantments."

    That wasn''t very clear at all.

    "Oh," I say. "If someone other than me tries to touch it, it''ll create a force field in front of their hand. It''ll also pop up if they try to use something else to move or grab it. I did the same thing with my backpack when I enchanted it, because I don''t want it to get stolen. Maybe I should change the enchantment so that it''s not just ''anyone'' but based on intent? S.G. tried to move my backpack to a different table earlier but couldn''t."

    If it''s S.G. or Mr. Trey or Ms. Katie, I won''t be too unhappy if they move my backpack if they need to for some reason.

    "Why did he want to move your backpack?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Because they were moving tables and I was getting a smoothie," I answer. "I was stupid and didn''t take it with me. At least it didn''t get stolen."

    "Okay," he says. "Why don''t you go put your stuff away? Dinner should be ready in a little bit."

    "Okay."

    I go up to the bedroom and put my backpack away, then return downstairs and to the deck.

    "Did you see Russell?" Mr. Trey asks.

    Why does he want to know about Russell?

    "He was at the park when I got there," I tell him. "He had been playing with S.G. and the others. There was a big group of kids, including Russell, Ethan and Macy who we played with last weekend, a pair of twins who just moved into the area, and one of Greyson''s older brothers. Not his twin, the next-oldest after Cal. I didn''t know they were brothers until it got mentioned. He does art, too, just like Russell, and they had a drawing competition to see who could draw the coolest apple scene."

    "Apple scene?" Mr. Trey asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "They had to draw an apple for it, but they had to come up with some sort of scene. Travis was the one voted on as the winner, it was a kraken throwing apples at people. I thought Russell''s was cooler, it was an apple firing apples out of a cannon at a castle whose guards were bananas."

    "That does sound pretty cool," Mr. Trey says. "Did you do anything with Russell?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "We talked and exchanged phone numbers. And I offered him a puzzle sphere, since I gave one to all of my friends. Also Travis, but he got one of the ones I made on Tuesday because he''s been curious about the puzzle sphere that Greyson''s been using for awhile now. It''s not the same one, but it''s not as difficult."

    "That was nice," Mr. Trey says.

    "I try to be nice."

    "I know," he smiles. "And it''s time to start the fries. Can you put the basket in the fryer?"

    He''s letting me use the fryer? This is the first time I''ve been given permission to do so.

    I very carefully put the basket with cut fries into the fryer. They''re all sliced into mostly-rectangles and need to be watched so they don''t burn. Also shaken a little partway through.

    "Did you and Russell do anything else?" Mr. Trey asks as I watch the fries.

    "We sat by each other at lunch," I confirm. "And when he went to leave, he offered me a fist bump. Mr. Thompson, Mr. Fuller, and Ms. Rachel brought stuff for lunch. Beef hot dogs, frozen burgers, chips, veggies, fruit, and drinks. There was a biiiiig thing for lemonade, too. I got to stir it!"

    Mr. Trey asks me different questions about what I did at the park and it makes me really nervous, but he doesn''t say I can''t go again. It''s really confusing why he wants to know all this, but I''m happy because I got to hang out with a bunch of people and have fun. We''re halfway done with eating dinner by the time the strange interrogation ends.

    "Mr. Trey?" I say once we''ve cleaned up the dinner stuff.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "Sam posted in the chat awhile ago that they were going to his house and were going to do a sleepover," I say. "And that I could come if I wanted. They were also going to do dinner at his place, but you told me you wanted me home by six for dinner so I waited until now to say. Is it okay if I go to Sam''s house for the sleepover?"

    "Sure," he tells me. "Want me to drive you?"

    Is that just him asking or is that him wanting to and faking giving me a choice?

    "I don''t mind being driven," I tell him. "I used a lot of mana earlier."

    "Alright," he chuckles. "Go get packed for the sleepover and I''ll take you."

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    Scrolling through my feed, I find nothing too interesting right now. The world apparently decided to be boring for a day. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling¡­ wait, hold on. I scroll back to what caught my attention.

    That''s Xander in the article preview.

    Mysterious Boy Riding a Real Hoverboard in Dragon Falls?

    That seems far-fetched and I bet Trey will be pretty pissed if he finds out someone snuck a picture of Xander and is using it for clickbait. I tap on the article to see what all is being said.

    When I do, the picture from the preview is right there at the top. It''s Xander in his usual sneakers, along with black athletic pants rather than jeans and a faded grey long-sleeved shirt. He''s also wearing his backpack and has a look of concentration and worry as he rides a pretty cool-looking hoverboard.

    There''s no way he''d do that, he''d probably be far too scared of falling off. They even edited in pads and a helmet for him, too. Pretty sure he''d have to be in full-body padding to even give something like that a try.

    I start reading the article to see what it''s claiming.

    There I was, driving down the street as I returned home from Saturday grocery shopping, and I saw the most unusual thing ¨C on the sidewalk, an actual hoverboard! I don''t know who the kid is and he looked kind of bored, but he was just cruising down the sidewalk on a hoverboard. No wheels at all!

    So far, hoverboards are just theories, not truly functional. At a guess, I''d say he''s one of the Lumaria Kings based on his hair, and he probably got advanced access to a new magitech they''re releasing soon. I did hear that Adrian King has been in town several times recently, too, including yesterday.

    Once I got ahead of the boy and his board, I stopped and took a video, you can see it below.

    I click on the video and it''s of Xander going down the sidewalk with his look of concentration and worry. How could they think that''s boredom? It''s so obvious it''s not! He''s also not a Lumaria King, he''s been pretty insistent about that and he doesn''t lie. If they did have something like that early-access, it wouldn''t be Xander getting it.

    I skim through the rest of the article, then read the comments. There aren''t many since it''s just a local blogger, and some people are calling it a hoax while others are claiming they saw him, too. Then there''s one interesting commenter.

    [NinjaOfMegaFluff]: What the heck? Why didn''t he tell me about it? I want one!

    [NinjaOfMegaFluff]: What the heck? I think he only made one! Not fair! I want one!

    Those two messages are¡­ pretty different from the rest of the ones here. Is that a Lumaria King being upset he didn''t get early-access to what is probably a hoax?

    I want to respond to the article, but I also want to let Xander know about it and the picture and video with him first. I shoot him a text.

    [Luke]: Hey! Just saw an article saying you were riding a hoverboard around town.

    As I type up a follow-up message, the indicator shows that Xander''s typing so I wait for him to finish.

    [Xander]: Someone made an article about it?

    [Xander]: How did they know it was me?

    That¡­ makes it sound like Xander was riding a hoverboard, but I''m not sure if Xander knows that.

    [Luke]: They didn''t know it was YOU, they just made an article about a "mysterious boy" riding a hoverboard and they used a picture of you for it. I recognized you in it.

    [Xander]: Oh.

    There''s quiet for a few very long seconds.

    [Xander]: Mr. Trey says he agrees that it was a good thing I put a security enchantment on it.

    Hold up.

    [Luke]: Xander¡­ did you MAKE a hoverboard?

    [Xander]: Today. It''s super fun!

    [Luke]: Aren''t you scared of hoverboards? And how did you make it? No one''s succeeded yet.

    [Xander]: I''m scared of skateboards. Those are different. They have wheels that can break and fall off while hoverboards don''t.

    [Xander]: With magitech.

    Okay, I''ll say that I asked for that last answer. I''ve gotten to know Xander well enough to know that that is how he''ll respond to "how" on something. It''ll be easier to ask him in-person than via text, and I really want to try out the hoverboard if it''s real.

    [Luke]: Can I come over and ride it?

    [Xander]: Mr. Trey is taking me to a sleepover so we aren''t at the house right now.

    Of course he''ll go to a sleepover with someone else but not me. Parker''s still in a mood, too, so I can''t have him over or go to his place for one. Dammit, dammit, dammit!

    Why do I have to be too hyper to properly make friends? I want to hang out, too!

 Chapter 0060

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    After all of the running around, playing, and swimming I did today, I am absolutely wiped. Connor, Sam, Isaac, and I are hanging out in Sam''s living room as we try to decide what to do now. They''re all wiped as well so goofing around is off the table. That''s even with there being a pool out back for us to swim in.

    And Xander looks even more tired than I feel. As soon as Mr. Richardson let him in, we all noticed his drooping eyes, slowly nodding head, and the sleepy way he''s holding Trenton against his chest.

    I think he forgot that sleepovers aren''t just sleeping over.

    "Are you guys playing games?" Xander asks as Mr. Richardson closes the door.

    "We were playing with cards," Sam tells him. "But were thinking of switching to something else. No horsing around tonight, though. We''re all too exhausted from the park and stuff for that."

    "Okay," Xander says. "I''m really tired, too. If you guys aren''t going to play video games, is it okay if I take a nap? And then you wake me when you start playing video games? If you do. You guys said you normally end up playing them, right?"

    "We do!" Isaac confirms. "We can do that!"

    "Okay," Xander says. "Um¡­ where''s the bathroom?"

    Sam hops up and shows Xander to the bathroom and when Xander emerges a few minutes later, he''s dressed in his green pajamas. We go back to trying to decide what to do and by the time we agree on a board game¡­ Xander''s passed out. He''s curled up on the ground underneath the corner table between the couch and the love seat, so we didn''t notice it at first.

    That''s¡­ a weird place to fall asleep. How did he even get under there without us noticing?

    Oh, well!

    About an hour and a half after we start the game, we finish it with Connor coming out the real estate king! If I had more energy, I''d probably tackle him and wrestle him down so he knows I''m the real king here but I''m just too exhausted for that.

    "Let''s do video games now?" Sam asks.

    "Zombies, demons, monsters, or space?" I ask.

    "Zombies!" Connor answers. "We still haven''t finished that game!"

    "That was on my account," I remind him.

    "We can always restart!" Sam says. "But with me in control instead of you this time!"

    "You''ll die in tutorial."

    "And learn from the experience!"

    "I''ll wake Xander," I snicker, then crouch at the small gap where the couch and love seat form a corner. "Xander? Xander, we''re gonna play a video game now. It''s the zombie shooter game we played at Aunt Rachel''s last weekend. Xander? I think he''s too asleep. Xaaaander. It''s time for Sam to make zombie brains go splat. Xaaaaander."

    If this were Connor, Sam, or Isaac, I''d do something else to wake him up but I''m not sure how he''d react to my usual methods of waking my friends up. I only jump on them because I know they''ll be cool with it. Some of them aren''t possible because there''s a table in the way, too. Maybe I can poke him?

    Just as I go to poke Xander, he begins to stir.

    "Using the ikrozmin rune as a base would probably work better," he mumbles, eyes still closed. "Might fix the wobbles. Then the apples will be happy and stop eating the gummy bears¡­"

    Uh¡­ what?

    "Xander?" I whisper.

    "But gummy bears are so delicious¡­ just don''t eat them until you get a tummy ache, alright?"

    "I''ll keep that in mind!" I salute.

    "Huh?" Xander sleepily opens his eyes. "Oh. Is it video game time?"

    "Yup!" I answer. "Were you having a good dream? You talked about some sort of rune and wobbling, and then apples eating gummy bears and not eating gummy bears until you get a stomachache. Ikronizmin?"

    "Ikronizmin?" Xander frowns, then moves backwards¡­ and escapes from under the table via the gap between it and the walls. It''s apparently far enough away that an entire boy can fit through it. "It was probably ikrozmin. I was talking in my sleep?"

    "You do that sometimes!" I nod. "What''s the ikrozmin rune? You said it might fix the wobbles."

    "I was dreaming about my hoverboard," he covers his mouth as he yawns. "It wobbles a lot. Would the ikrozmin rune work? Hm¡­ maybe¡­"

    Xander climbs over the arm of the couch as he looks thoughtful and I get the feeling that he''ll be too distracted by his hoverboard to¡­ hoverboard? Xander''s going from making puzzle spheres to attempting to make a hoverboard?

    That''s quite a leap.

    I wish him the best of luck on that. Supposedly, getting a proper functioning one is so hard, it hasn''t been done yet. Even the companies within the Lumaria Group haven''t managed it yet. While I do know that Xander''s a Lumaria King now¡­ I doubt he has access to the sort of funds he''d need to make a hoverboard. I doubt his dorky cousin does, either. That''s gotta be hundreds of millions of dollars'' worth of research, I''m sure of it.

    We start playing the game; well, it''s Sam''s who''s playing while the rest of us are watching are commenting on it. Most of us. Xander mostly watches with an intent look on his sleepy face, as if he''s determined to figure something out.

    "Sig," Xander whispers to me after the tutorial is over.

    Sam only died twice during it, which is a record for the fewest. He normally dies at least four times during the tutorial of this sort of game.

    "Yeah?"

    "So what is it that the XP thingy does?" Xander asks. "I keep seeing it pop up on the side when Sam was killing the zombies."

    Right, Xander doesn''t really play video games. He seemed pretty confused when we played this one on Tuesday and I guess he''s comfortable enough to ask questions now.

    "XP is how you gain Levels," I tell him. "So Sam went from Level 1 to Level 3 during the tutorial he just did. Each time he gains a Level, he gains 5 Stat Points he can use to boost his stats. You pick which stat or stats you want to increase and by how much, up to a total of five points."

    Xander asks more questions about how the stat system works, then about the inventory. Being able to carry more than a human could reasonably carry confuses him, but he accepts it after Isaac tells him to imagine it like the game character has a spatial storage.

    Then he finds out that you can increase the storage by spending Skill Points, which are also gained upon gaining Levels, as well as from completing certain quests or objectives. Quests also earn us a lot more questions from Xander.

    "Do you want to give it a try?" Sam asks after a few hours of playing, along with Xander asking questions here and there. "We can start a new profile if you do!"

    "No, thank you," Xander says. "I''m really tired and don''t think I can play good. And I''m not sure if Mr. Trey is okay with me playing it, and it''s way too late for me to ask. He''s probably asleep right now."

    I guess there are rules for what sorts of games he can play and he needs to ask about any outside of those allowed by the rules. It''s probably something like his dad needs to look into the game and see its ratings and reviews and stuff like that first. My friends'' dads all have that requirement for any violent games, though they do usually get a pass.

    Aunt Rachel might start doing it, too, and I hope she asks the dads how they determine it so that she doesn''t start nixing games like this. I like what I play way too much to give them up.

    "Alright," Sam says. "Lemme know if you wanna take over for a bit!"

    Sam returns to playing and after a little bit, his dad lets us know he''s heading to bed. It''s at that point we realize that Xander''s been unusually quiet for awhile now and find that he''s fallen asleep under the table again.

    How does he get under there without us noticing?

    Well, it doesn''t matter! If he''s comfortable sleeping there, there''s no harm in letting him!

    We return our attention to the game, until we''re all too tired to continue focusing on it and decide to get to sleep. It''s earlier than normal, but we were all extra active today so we''re more exhausted than usual.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    Xander''s not under the table when I wake up, and his backpack is gone. Since there isn''t a downstairs-upstairs deal like at Aunt Rachel''s, that probably means that he''s gone. It''s a bit weird that Mr. Richardson isn''t out here making breakfast, though. The dads can always tell about when we''ll be waking up somehow and are working on making food for us at that time.

    Did Mr. Richardson leave to pick something up for us, then? Or did he take Xander home and Xander actually be okay with that instead of getting picked up by his dad?

    I go to the kitchen to get something to drink and hear a voice that sounds like Mr. Richardon''s coming from outside. Peeking through one of the windows, I find him, Xander, and Xander''s dad on the back deck.

    Just before I open the door to head outside, a ping that sounds like it''s from my phone sounds out. I hurry over to it and grab it and find a message from Carter.

    [Carter]: Hey! Saw this article! Do you know anything about it? I think it''d be cool to use in videos if it''s real!

    If it''s real? Clicking on the link he sent, I find an article about someone riding a hoverboard through town yesterday¡­ with the pictures and video being of Xander. The heck?

    I pocket my phone and head out back.

    "Morning!" I greet them. "Are you grilling breakfast, Mr. Richardson?"

    "French toast skewers," he tells me. "And grilled eggs."

    The eggs are being cooked in a skillet on the grill, while the skewers are not.

    "The skewers are good," Xander whispers to me. "But don''t eat the sticks. That sounds like it''d be gross."

    "It would be," I snort. "You''d probably get splinters in your mouth, too."

    Xander nods with a very serious expression. I don''t think he realized I was just being a goof with that. Oh, well!

    "So you already ate?" I ask.

    "Earlier," Xander nods. "I''ve been up for awhile, but I wanted to try waiting for you guys to wake up before I left. Mr. Trey came over to talk with Mr. Richardson while we waited."

    "I can wake the others!" I tell him.

    "You don''t have to do that," Xander says.

    "I was going to ask him to wake them up," Mr. Richardson tells him. "The other dads want them home soon, too."

    "Oh."

    Heading inside, I wake my friends up with gentle bodyslams to let them know it''s time for breakfast, then everyone has to head home.

    "Oh, Xander!" I say as he and Mr. Trey start to leave. "Almost forgot, but right before I came out here, I got a text from a friend a bit northeast of here! He was asking if I knew anything about a hoverboard because of an article he found, and the article was using pictures of you and a video of you. Thought I''d let you know."

    "Luke sent me the same article after he found it," Xander says. "I watched it on the way here. I didn''t notice him recording me, that was very rude. But it''s fun."

    "Wait, wait, wait," Sam says. "You have a hoverboard?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods. "I built it yesterday so that I can ride it while we go places, so you don''t need to walk your bikes when we go places for me to stay with you."

    None of us really know how to respond to that. He just¡­ built something we know magitech engineers have been struggling to make proper, functional versions of. From puzzle spheres to hoverboards, that''s quite a leap.

    And he did it so that we wouldn''t have to walk our bikes.

    "We don''t mind walking our bikes!" I tell him. "It gives us more chatting time on the way! So we''ll get to see it next time we go to the park or something? In-person, I mean, not just in an article."

    "Yeah," Xander nods. "Um¡­ I think Mr. Trey wants to go now. Bye, everyone."

    "Cool!" I say. "Bye, Xander!"

    "Bye!" Connor tells him.

    The others tell him goodbye, too, then Xander leaves. We eat breakfast while talking about how cool it is that Xander''s got a hoverboard now, then we all head home. I almost go back to my parents'' house out of habit, but correct myself and go to Aunt Rachel''s new house.

    Almost immediately upon opening the gate to the back yard so I can put my bike away before going inside, I get tackled by a dog with dark and golden brown fur. He hits me with enough force to knock me down and licks my face like crazy, causing me to giggle as I try to push him off of me. There''s just too much excitement in him, though, and I don''t put too much effort into it.

    "Turtle! Heel!" A firm voice calls, and the dog stops licking me and walks over to Mr. Fuller, who''s approaching with Aunt Rachel and Hunter. "Sorry about that, S.G., he''s just a little excited."

    "Who''s dog is he?" I get up off the ground. "Yours?"

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Yeah," Mr. Fuller answers. "His name''s Turtle, and I got him at an adoption event yesterday afternoon. Since we couldn''t get the house we wanted, we got a dog instead."

    "That''s cool," I pick my bike back up. "That''s a lot of excitement in a dog."

    "He''s been super excitable ever since we brought him home yesterday," Hunter snorts. "He didn''t hurt you, didn''t he?"

    "Nope!" I thump my chest. "I''m made of pretty stern stuff! Though I guess he did get dirt on me, but it''ll brush off! See!"

    "You''ve got some on your back, too," he snorts. "Rachel invited us to bring him over this morning; Dad apparently let her know about us getting a dog and your guys'' back yard is bigger than ours, so she thought he might like running around it."

    Hunter rolls his eyes while giving me a look that tells me all I need to know. He''s just as aware as I am that my aunt and his dad like each other.

    "More space to run around," Aunt Rachel says. "Even with the pool. Close the gate, he''ll only stay in one spot for so long."

    I hurry and close the gate, then put my bike away, pull off my backpack and set it and my helmet on the deck, then play with Turtle and Hunter. The dog really is excitable and constantly runs around, only occasionally stopping briefly for a two-lap drink before wanting to play with a ball or stick or something again.

    Didn''t Xander mention a dog named Turtle at the shelter? Something about him constantly getting sent back? When we asked him about that, Xander told us that the dog was just happy about having a new home but his new owners never liked that and returned him within a week.

    I bet Mr. Fuller won''t do that. He even joins us to play with Turtle!

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years] ¡ú starts around the beginning of Sig''s PoV

    "You made sure to book adjoining rooms, right?" Cal asks Dad. "Not the same room, and not completely separated rooms? Greyson sleeps better when he has his own room, but it''s still a good idea to have an easy way to reach him. As much of a handful as he can be, he''ll leave that door unlocked if you tell him to. I think, anyway. We''ve never been in a hotel before¡­"

    "Sort of," Dad tells him as I continue fiddling with the small magitech board I''m making. It''s only about six inches long, an inch wide, and roughly a quarter of an inch thick so it requires extra care. "We''re actually staying at at B and B. I felt it might be a better transition for Greyson if it feels like a home, and each room has its own bathroom as well."

    I scouted out the place yesterday to make sure it''s suitable and not a part of the Faction. Everything came up clean except for the air ducts, but I took care of those.

    "That might actually work," Cal holds out a binder. "This has everything I can think of which might be important for taking Greyson on a trip. I know you''ve been raising him for less than a year now, but I still do so much, and I raised him for way longer. There''s a lot which goes into accounting for him being Autistic. Remember that there are a lot of things he can''t help. That''s why associations are key. One of the really important ones is shopping. I know you know this, but make sure you tell him to keep a hand on the cart. It took so long to create the association between that and not being allowed to walk off and mess with things, and it''s the best way to ensure he won''t."

    Hand goes on the cart, no hands go on other stuff without permission. That''s how it is. Others don''t follow that rule, but it''s the rule.

    "I know," Dad tells Cal. "When we got him tested, I studied a bit on it. Autistics tend to have their own ''rules'' and way of viewing the world. And I''ve gotten pretty good at figuring things out with him."

    "Yeah," Cal says. "But I still do quite a lot, don''t forget. This one is even more important. These droppers are extremely important. While I didn''t know what Greyson was actually doing with his meditation baths until yesterday, one thing I did know is what led to the two-hour rule. If he''s in it for two and a half hours unbroken, he will be loopy for the rest of the day, and sometimes the day after. And he likes to do the baths two or three times a week. A loopy Greyson is a weird Greyson-"

    "He''s always weird," Henry says. "And such a brat."

    "Says the brat."

    "Both of you, stop," Papa says. "Henry, stay out of it."

    "But-"

    "No," Papa firmly says. "Do you want your grounding extended?"

    Henry huffs.

    "Anyway," Cal says. "A loopy Greyson is a weird Greyson, and you really don''t want to see what he does while he''s loopy. Plus, it''d kind of mess with his ability to take the tests."

    "I don''t do anything weird while I am loopy," I say.

    "You do a lot of weird things," Cal says, then looks at Dad. "Two hours is the limit because of that, and it messes with his head flow if you cut it short as that''s what he''s used to. And make sure to use the drops. I just thought it was him being him, but they''re apparently really important for him to stop safely. If he doesn''t control his exit, it creates a massive backlash and gives him a nasty headache."

    Something he learned the hard way yesterday, though I was nice enough not to do it back to him in revenge. He even rewarded with me a sucker for that!

    "Okay," Dad pockets the vial. "I know it''s the first time we''re taking him on a trip, Cal, but we''ll be fine."

    "This is Greyson we''re talking about," Cal says. "A boy who''s both Autistic and a super genius and probably something else we don''t know. The past eight months isn''t really much for learning about him and his nuances. It''s in the binder, but when you''re at the school, make absolutely sure he knows where he''s supposed to go for everything. See if there can be a guide to lead him around at first. It''ll create a more stable structure in his mind, allowing him to handle it more easily. And remember, he''ll need a quiet place to go if he gets overwhelmed, and-"

    "Cal," Dad says. "We''ll be fine. I''ve already spoken to the academy, and we''ll be going in today to look around so he can learn where he''ll be taking his tests at over the next couple of weeks. And he''s not a fully unique case to them, some of their other students are Autistic, and some of them have needed an aide to go with them from class to class or test to test. They arranged for that with Greyson when I told them it might be necessary for the testing, and we''ll be meeting him this afternoon."

    "Alright," Cal says. "And sorry, I''m just¡­ worried. There''s so much when it comes to dealing with his disability¡­ and this is the first time we''ll be separated in his entire life¡­ I''m just so worried, Dad."

    "I know," Dad reaches out and gives him a half hug. "We''ll be fine, and I''m sure Greyson appreciates you wanting to make sure that he''ll have an easier time and accommodations are made as needed. Aren''t you, Greyson?"

    "Cal always wants to make sure I''m okay," I say. "I''m always appreciative of that, so I don''t see the need to say it. He should just know."

    "And how can he know if you don''t tell him?"

    "But I have told him."

    "I know you can take being told your help is appreciated once and accept that it''s a permanent view unless told otherwise," Dad says. "But most people don''t, Greyson. It''s a good idea to make sure they know you still appreciate their help and care."

    And they call me the weird one.

    "What are you making?" Cal asks. "You were fiddling with that yesterday, too."

    "An attempt at making a miniature hoverboard prototype," I answer. "Xander apparently made an actual one yesterday, but he only made one, which is weird. He usually does things in threes. Though I guess he did only make one AR set, too. Anyway, since he only made one, that means there''s not one for me. He also didn''t even log any of his notes on it and destroyed the previous versions, so I have no idea how he managed it. I''m trying to figure out how he got it working but even a peek at the notes and research of others who''ve worked on hoverboards and even got semi-functional versions working wasn''t helpful."

    "Greyson¡­ "

    "Yes?"

    "You hacked research again?"

    "I never said that."

    Xander keeping all of his notes in his head makes it a pain for me to recreate his stuff. It''s why I struggle with his first puzzle sphere so much, since I can''t just take a peek at his notes and see what the algorithm is. Even though it''s ridiculously complex, I''m sure I''d be able to adapt and keep track of the key as it changes.

    With the hoverboard¡­ I get the feeling Xander figured out entirely new runes and that''s how he was able to make a proper functional hoverboard. That''s just for if he limited himself to his mortal side and not his godly side, too.

    "How''s the project coming?" Cal asks.

    "As a complete and absolute failure," I answer. "Xander is truly on another level when it comes to magitech he''s interested in. I''ve spent more total time when adding in my acceleration magic than he did based on the temporal energies I detected at the secret base yet have failed to make a miniature version capable of traveling more than a few feet before the magitech fails. Even the best existing ones can''t travel very far, and can only do one trip. They also burn a ridiculous amount of mana to power as well, adding in another hurdle. That''s why I took a peek at the research of others, which I used to improve this. Yet Xander''s was fully functional and suitable for riding around town, and I know he only used the information I had at the secret base."

    That''s the difference between a god doing something and a mere mortal like myself. I might not be able to understand a lot of stuff ¨C including about emotions ¨C no matter how hard I try due to my Autism, but I know that what I''m feeling right now is jealousy and envy. He''s so skilled¡­ I''ll never be able to reach that level, I''m sure of it. But I wish I could.

    "Sadly," I say. "I must await my return from the testing in order to learn from him how he managed to craft his hoverboard. Why then and not during next weekend? Because I have no doubt that Xander will be reluctant to reveal his secrets and therefore will require more time to convince to share them."

    "Alright," Cal snorts. "Did you get your suitcase packed all the way?"

    While I could just stick everything into my backpack, that''s not how it''s supposed to be for trips. A trip means traveling, and that means using a suitcase. Dad even took me to the store to buy me one when I asked yesterday. I was going to go on my own, but Dad wanted to go with me for it for some reason.

    "I did."

    "Can I go through it to make sure?"

    "No."

    "And if you forgot something?"

    "I''ll just teleport back to grab it."

    "Greyson¡­" Cal has a slight scolding tone to his voice.

    "You can check it¡­"

    Cal grabs my suitcase and lies it down, then opens it up and looks through it. I watch him closely to make sure everything is put back where it belongs, and he doesn''t mess it up. He opens up the smaller bag that''s inside to check the toiletries as well, then raises an eyebrow when he finds the small bottle of laundry detergent.

    "It''s good for two loads," I tell him. "Or one really dirty load. I wanted to make sure we can use the right stuff."

    "Dad already packed some," Cal says. "I think. Dad?"

    "I did," Dad says. "And you don''t need to bring your bottles of body wash and shampoo, Greyson."

    "I am not using what is provided there," I say. "It might not be of good suitable quality. I have sensitive skin."

    "What I mean," Dad says. "Is I packed some for us. Your papa likes it, too, remember? I filled smaller bottles with some of it. Enough for both of us."

    "Papa likes the mint scent."

    Even though it''s faint, I can smell it from here despite Papa being twenty feet away. My nose is really good.

    "He''s also got the fruity scents," Dad tells me. "He doesn''t use them as often, but he does have them. I took the coconut and zromelk butter ones, since that''s your current bottles."

    "Oh," I teleport my shampoo and conditioner back to where I store them.

    "Why do you have two toothbrushes?" Cal asks.

    "In case I need to replace one," I answer. "Even if I sanitize it with magic, it won''t change the grossness of using a toothbrush that got dropped."

    "Fair enough," he zips the smaller bag back up and sets it back into the suitcase. "You did forget stuff, by the way."

    "I did?" I run through a mental checklist of everything. "No, I got everything."

    "You probably didn''t put it on your checklist," he says. "Your training clothes and a pair of swim trunks."

    "It appears I have forgotten things."

    I put away the stuff I was tinkering with, then teleport to my bedroom to pick out the workout clothes and swim trunks I''ll be taking with me for the trip. Once they''re selected, I return to the living room and rearrange my suitcase so that the new items are in the appropriate spots.

    "Okay," I say after zipping my suitcase back up. "There. That should be everything."

    "Then it''s time for us to go," Dad says. "Say goodbye to everyone."

    "Bye Cal! Bye Papa! Bye Travis!"

    They all tell me goodbye, and Papa and Dad kiss, then Dad and I put our luggage into the car, get into it, and he starts driving. Once we''re on the interstate, Dad lets me pick what music I want to listen to, and the two of us sing to the song I put on.

    "There are muffins with guns marchin'' right down the street, looking for demons who need to get beat. Workin'' with them are the muffin mages, wieldin'' the knowledge of a thousand sages. With healer muffins followin'' right along, the grenadier muffins won''t take long. These forces combined will claim their vic''try, for they are the final muffin army!"

    "Muffin! Muffin! Muffin! Yeah!" I do small fist pumps into the air.

    "That''s not a part of the song," Dad chuckles.

    "How would you know?"

    "Because you watch that show at least twice a week nearly every week," he snorts. "I still want to know how the muffins came to life."

    "You''re not supposed to question it," I say. "Suspension of disbelief, Dad."

    "Sure, sure," he says. "So theoretically, if muffins could become an army like in that cartoon, how would it happen?"

    Dad and I discuss how it would happen. He doesn''t really know much about magic, but he can still hold a good conversation anyway. Even if not a smart one. It''s okay, though, since he''s still really cool and he''s at least not being dumb. I think he''s mostly just wanting to pass the time.

    After several hours of discussions, singing, and eating snacks I brought, we arrive at the academy. Dad decided to take us straight there rather than stop at the B&B first. It''s a massive facility with an immense amount of magical wards placed on it. They have several buildings, and even a wall surrounding the property.

    Also an anti-teleport ward I''m pretty sure is courtesy of Grandfather Adrian. I don''t notice it until we''ve already passed through and are in the parking lot. That''s extra-evil, if Grandfather Adrian managed to hide it from my examination.

    "Dad, I don''t wanna go."

    "Why not?"

    "Grandfather Adrian put an anti-teleport ward on it," I say. "That means I can''t leave if I want to go home or to the secret base. I need to be able to leave."

    At least at Grandfather Adrian''s, I knew I was going to be leaving again since I was confident he''d let me. This place¡­ I''m not sure. It''s got to be a trap, I''m sure of it. There weren''t any signs that they were a part of the Faction and I doubt Grandfather Adrian would run a place that''s part of it, but they could be doing something shady without his knowledge.

    "They said you''ll have permission to leave after the first month," he tells me. "Remember? And I''m sure you''ll find plenty of stuff to do here to fill the time. A month will be over in no time at all."

    "Not going! Not going!"

    Not to a place with such an evil ward! It''s bad! It''s bad!

    "This is the only place which can really teach you," Dad says. "Come on, Greyson. Let''s go inside so you can see it."

    "No, no, no, no!"

    "Greyson-"

    "NO NO NO NO!"

    "Let''s-"

    It''s too much. It''s too much. I start screaming. I need to scream. There''s too much. I can''t go here! I can''t go here! It''s evil! It''s evil! This is wrong. This is wrong. It''s all wrong.

    Something touches my lap. I''m about to make it explode but register it with my other senses in time not to. My scream stops as I open my eyes and I look at the small container Dad put on my lap. It''s full of hard candies.

    Not just any hard candies, though. They''re all stars and they smell good. These are the ones Cal makes. I try to replicate them every now and then, but I don''t know what I''m doing wrong when I do. They never taste as good as his despite me using the exact same recipe.

    He almost never makes them, though. Dad found some? In the car? When did Cal put them here? Cal hasn''t even made them since before we moved out of the trailer and in with Dad and Papa, though, so they shouldn''t have been here. I already ate all of the ones from the last batch a long time ago.

    My hands are trembling as I open the container and pull out one of the green stars, then pop it into my mouth and let it slowly dissolve. It''s strawberry-flavored, as always for the green ones. It takes a couple of minutes to dissolve away and once it does, I pop a purple one into my mouth. Blueberry. A creamy-orange one is next. Peach. Then yellow. Lemon.

    "Are you feeling a little more calm?" Dad softly asks as I pop another strawberry candy into my mouth, and I nod. "Alright. One of the purposes for today''s visit is to discuss possible accommodations for you, Greyson. The actual IEP ¨C Individualized Education Plan ¨C will be created later in the week, but we''ll be talking with them about some accommodations necessary due to your disability. We can bring up how the anti-teleport ward affects you and see if they might lighten up the rule about leaving the academy grounds for the first month.

    "That rule is only for new students," he continues. "Since most have never been away from their families for an extended time before. If they''re able to contact their families or see things outside of the academy, it might increase their homesickness and make them want to leave more. It''s meant to help them adjust to the academy. But we can ask them if it''s possible to exempt you from that, especially since the best place for you when you''re having one of your more severe meltdowns or panic attacks is your secret base. Are you okay with going in and asking about that?"

    I nod.

    "Alright," he reaches across me and unbuckles me, then slips a pair of sunglasses onto my face. They''re mine, but not the ones from my suitcase. "Come on, Greyson."

    I pop another star-shaped candy into my mouth and get out of the car, keeping the container in my hands.

    "Is he okay?" A familiar voice asks. "I heard him screaming and¡­ is he okay?"

    "Yeah, he''s fine," Dad responds as I try to figure out how I know that voice. I heard it recently, I''m sure of it. "Greyson has Autism, and some things can cause him to have a meltdown due to overload. He''s sensitive to magic and can feel the enchantments on this place, and adding into that a new situation and just the wrong thought¡­ he''s fine now, though he''ll probably be nonverbal and will avoid looking at people directly for awhile."

    "Oh, okay," the other person says. He really sounds familiar. "You said his name is Greyson? Wait. Oh! Greyson!"

    Loud! Loud! Too loud!

    "Would you mind keeping your volume a little lower?" Dad asks. "He''s extra sensitive to sensory inputs while calming down from an attack. It''s why he''s wearing sunglasses, too."

    "Oh," the other boy''s voice is quieter now. "Hi again, Greyson."

    Another star candy goes into the mouth.

    "Do you know him?" Dad asks.

    "Kind of," the other boy answers. "I meet him at the Interception Day fair back home. But your license plate''s from, uh, a lot closer to here than Nezairik."

    "Greyson teleports as easily as some kids eat candy," Dad tells him.

    A kid at an Interception Day fair? In Nezairik, too. There''s only one kid I really "met" at that, and this boy''s voice does sound like his. It''s Cody, then. Yeah, his mind feels like Cody''s for sure, now that I''m thinking about it.

    "That''s really cool," Cody tells Dad. "Is he going to attend the academy? I''ve been coming here for years. They told me that-"

    "Volume," a man''s voice softly says. "Remember what he said? You were going back to normal and Greyson flinched."

    That''s his dad''s voice and mind, right?

    "Sorry," Cody whispers. "They asked if we''d be willing to come a week earlier than the retesting to show a new kid around for the tests. I''m betting that''s him, if you guys are getting here at this time."

    "Someone''s supposed to be helping us with that, yeah," Dad says. "We should check in at the office first to make sure, though."

    "Okay," Cody whispers as he steps closer to me. "Hey, Greyson? Did your brother like the stuffed octopus you won for him?"

    I nod.

    "That''s awesome," he whispers. "Come on! You''re gonna love the academy. It''s owned by Adrian King and he makes sure it only has the best, and there''s so much here!"

 Chapter 0061

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "What kind of stuff are you interested in?" Cody asks. "You said magitech, right?"

    We''ve confirmed with the office that Cody is supposed to be the one guiding me around the academy during the testing and he''s been given permission to show me around. Dad doesn''t have to come with me and while I want him to, he''s staying in the office to talk with one of the staff members about something.

    "Basically anything magic or magitech," Dad tells him. "Though he does like cooking as well."

    Baking. I like baking. Cooking is for eating, baking is for deliciousness.

    "Cool," Cody says. "Come on, Greyson. Lemme show you the magitech labs! I don''t really do magitech stuff, but I know where they are."

    Cody starts walking and I pop another peach star candy into my mouth before following him. As we walk he points out a few different rooms and tells me what they are. This building is apparently the main academics building and teaches more of the standard subjects like Math, Language Arts, Social Studies, and Science. A few others, too.

    For magitech, we have to go into another building, which has most of the labs. Most, not all. The labs for Chemistry and Biology are in the main academics building.

    There are multiple magitech labs, and the very first one Cody takes me to has a teacher in it.

    "Hi, Mr. Miller!" Cody greets him. "This is Greyson, I''m showing him around before the testing tomorrow. He really likes magitech so I thought I''d show him it first."

    "Hello, Greyson," Mr. Miller greets me. I''m all out of the star candies. "Do you want to take a look at our equipment? The academy has the latest in pretty much all for magitech engineering."

    As if anything they have could be more advanced than what I''ve built.

    "You have tables already set up?" Cody asks, and I peek up to see that several of the worktables in here have magitech equipment already set up. "How come?"

    "There are a lot of incoming students receiving tours today," Mr. Miller tells him. "So we have stuff set up in the different classrooms in case they want to take a look, or even make something to test our tools."

    We''re allowed to test the tools out? The table does have more than just tools on it, it has some basic materials used in crafting magitech.

    "Oh, cool," Cody doesn''t actually think that''s cool. "What are those big machines on that wall?" He leans uncomfortably close. "I don''t really know much about magitech and this isn''t a class I take."

    Everyone should know the basics of magitech. How else can they make magitech bombs and remote-controlled vehicles?

    "Heavy-duty equipment," Mr. Miller tells him. "This one here is used for forging alloys. It''s a magitech machine which can perform the process many times faster than a standard forge could."

    He continues explaining things to Cody while I test out the tells on the table, but also the machines. These really are the best that''s on the market¡­ and some of them are even the best that''s not on the market, but which isn''t mine. I want to take apart the metal-smith machine and see how it differs from mine because it''s actually even faster.

    Yet just as precise.

    Maybe I can ask Grandfather Adrian to get me one?

    "What''d you make?" Cody asks when I finish testing out the tools and producing something. "A robot griffin?"

    I shake my head, then nod, then tap the griffin''s head. The six-inch-tall magitech griffin starts walking across the desk, then turns and chirps at Cody. It chirps at him a few times before opening its mouth one more time and keeping it open, this time playing the local weather forecast.

    "It''s¡­ oh! It''s an alarm griffin?" He asks, and I nod. "That''s so cool! And you made it so fast, like, in twenty minutes! You kept blurring around, too! Super-speed!"

    "Were you using a form of temporal acceleration?" Mr. Miller asks, and I nod as I pick up the griffin and examine its underside. "Adrian King told us you sometimes did that while you worked on magitech. I take it you extend the spell to the materials and tools you''re working on and with?"

    I nod. Doing it that way is the only way to ensure the materials and tools aren''t damaged by their use. I wasn''t able to do that with the bigger machines since they don''t have isolated power sources, but they only took a few minutes to perform their processes so it wasn''t too much of a hindrance for me.

    "You can keep that if you want," Mr. Miller tells me, and I pull off my backpack and slip the griffin alarm clock inside before pulling my bag back on. "It was nice meeting you, Greyson."

    I give him a nod, then leave. Cody shows me a few more of the labs here, including the photography lab. That''s his favorite one and he demonstrates some of their equipment to me, including the development process to turn taken pictures into printed photos. There are printers which print them up, but also magitech development machines for higher-quality ones.

    The picture he demonstrates with is one he takes of me, and I manage to look at him properly for the first time today. Same brown hair, blue eyes, and splash of freckles on his cheeks as before, and same athletic build from light fitness as he had when I met him last week. Today, he''s dressed in blue shorts and a yellow sleeveless, his sneakers blue with yellow accents. His camera''s hung around his neck, and he''s wearing a backpack.

    Why did he bring his backpack? It''s not like he''s gone to the park or something. We''re in a school and I doubt that''s a school backpack.

    Cody snaps the picture and demonstrates the process and when it''s done, he presents me with the photo. I put it into my backpack once he says I can, then he leads me back to the main academics building. There, he leads me to a classroom near the front.

    "And this is where most of the testing will be," he tells me. "Anything which can be done on a computer, it''ll be done on one of the ones in here. I don''t really get how they work, but it asks you a bunch of questions and keeps changing."

    "It asks enough to determine your knowledge on a subject," the teacher in here tells him. "Then moves on to the next. If it starts hitting a lot of subjects you don''t know anything about it''ll cycle through faster. It''s an adaptive assessment test designed to quickly go through more than a decade''s worth of knowledge, mostly in multiple-choice, true-false, and matching with only short written segments. I take it you''re Greyson?"

    I nod.

    "Nice to meet you, Greyson," the teacher says. "I''m Mr. Mallory, the physics professor here. "Do you want to see how the tests work for yourself? We have some short tests set up, designed to take around ten to thirty minutes depending on which one you select. They aren''t a part of the assessment you''ll be going through for the next two weeks, just things we have so the ones coming in for a tour today can take a look and get a feel for them before tomorrow."

    I nod.

    "You can sit at any computer," he tells me.

    I sit at the closest one. The desks turn out to be the computers¡­ sort of. They have a glass square in the center of them, and that''s the screen. However, the way it''s designed makes it look like the screen is below and at an angle for easier viewing. The keyboard is the bottom portion of the screen, but I can tap on different spots in place of a mouse, or I can use a small square section of the screen to the right of the keyboard as a mouse.

    Cody sits at the computer next to me, probably so he can take the fake test for some reason. He does something while I''m taking the fake test. It''s not on academics at all but random things, like my favorite color, which circle is bigger, whether or not the sky is blue, what comes next in the sequence, and the current season. Did they put together a bunch of random questions for this?

    Also, this computer is surprisingly fast. It can keep up with me moving really fast even if not at a speed achieved via temporal acceleration. My mind works a hundred times as fast as a normal person''s mind due to my being a dreamsage who actively uses both those powers and temporal magics on a high level. Never before have I encountered a computer I didn''t build which could keep up with my mind.

    Whoa.

    My grandfather has really been holding out on releasing technology to the public. I''m going to have to ask him for one of these so I can take a look at how it works and see if there''s anything in it I can use to improve my own. It might even help me with the mega-computer. That thing needs high speed and while I can achieve it on my own¡­

    There''s no harm in improving it.

    "That was fun!" Cody says when he finishes his. I''ve been done for a few minutes already, and I took all three tests it had ready while he only took the shortest one. "I didn''t get to do that when I applied here. I didn''t do the early tour. Kind of forgot they did them, just showed up that evening ''cause I slept here the full two weeks. Oh! By the way, Greyson, the computers have calculators on them. You can''t see it now since they aren''t giving you access to it but you''ll be able to use one during the portions of the assessment where it''s needed. But not on the math questions it doesn''t want you to use a calculator for. Mental math is something else it checks."

    "Can I use the calculator right here for that?" I point.

    "Um¡­ that''s the air," Cody whispers to me.

    "But there''s a calculator there in the HUD."

    "What HUD?"

    Oh, right. I''ve calmed down a lot more and can talk again, but I got dumb and forgot that others don''t have the HUD.

    "The one in my mind."

    "I¡­ there''s a HUD in your mind?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "I think it appeared when I was five. Or maybe I made it? New features appear from time to time so I probably didn''t make it. I don''t remember, I was a lot dumber back then. It''s a calculator, but it''s in my mind. So does that mean I can use it, or should I avoid using it?"

    "Um¡­" he looks at the teacher.

    "You can use it," Mr. Mallory says. "It counts as being in your mind."

    "Having a HUD in your mind is so weird," Cody tells him. "You''re just gonna accept it?"

    "I''ve taught thousands of gifted children," Mr. Mallory says. "That is far from being the strangest thing I''ve heard come out of a kid''s mouth."

    "Okay," Cody says. "So like, what''s in the HUD? There''s just a calculator floating there at all times?"

    "No," I answer. "I have to open it. Before then, it''s just an icon. And they''re all transparent so they don''t interfere with my vision. I also have an icon for when I have messages, a gauge for how much mana I currently have ¨C in my own scale, not the standard one ¨C indicators for the mana levels of those within my view¡­ well, when I turn that one on. It''s off right now. The current temperature outside, weather, visibility, pollen count, wind speed and direction, wind chill or heat index factor are all included in another icon, which I can expand at any time to actually get the details. Well, the temperature is always visible, right below the time, and it shows the temperature for where I''m at. There''s also a small window right here for my current body temperature, blood oxygen level, iron level, pulse, and a few other things¡­ hm¡­ here."

    I weave together a spell and create an illusory imitation of what I''m seeing for the HUD.

    "That''s so cool!" Cody exclaims. "That''s light magic, right? I love light magic! Whoa! You really do have a HUD like in games! Aw, touching things doesn''t do anything!"

    He was trying to open the calculator, so I access the one in the actual HUD. My illusion is designed to update as the HUD does, because why only give a snapshot of it? That seems half-assed.

    Cody giggles as he realizes what I''m doing and starts tapping stuff on the calculator while Mr. Mallory watches closely. Dad, Cody''s parents, and another staff member show up while Cody''s playing with the HUD illusion, so I ignore them in favor of opening up the weather app in my HUD because that''s what Cody wanted to look at.

    "This only displays what''s around you, right?" He asks. "Not what''s outside?"

    "Yeah."

    "That''s lame," he says. "How come it doesn''t talk about what''s outside?"

    "I''m not sure," I shrug.

    "Okay," he pokes at the mana meter and gets a pop-up with the option to turn on viewing the mana meters for others or minimizing mine. He pokes the one for seeing others'' and giggles when two appear in his vision. "Wait! That''s mine and Mr. Mallory''s, right? Since this is an illusion of what you''re seeing, that means that''s where I''m standing in your vision?"

    "Not just an illusion, right?" Mr. Mallory asks. "I''m not an expert in mind magics, but I''m guessing there''s that aspect as well so that you can update it more easily as you navigate it?"

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "What''s going on?" Dad asks.

    "Greyson''s showing me his HUD!" Cody answers.

    "His HUD?"

    "Heads-up display," the unknown staff member explains. "A user interface commonly seen in a lot of things, including video games. Greyson has a HUD?"

    "In his vision, yeah!" Cody nods. "He says he''s had it since he was five! This is so cool! So I have 318 mana? And Mr. Mallory has 492 and¡­ oh, well, they''re not in your vision. How accurate is this?"

    "Extremely," I answer. "The expanded function where it can display mana meters for others only appeared recently, but its numbers match up with what I can sense in someone when I directly attempt to."

    "Yours says you have over 3,000,000, though."

    "That would be correct."

    Cody gives me a bewildered look.

    "I am a Lumarikang who regularly uses some of the highest magic types in existence," I tell him. "With the amount of use of them I perform, I would easily have ten times this much were I a member of the main family. Sadly, I am limited to the body and blood of a branch member."

    Aw¡­ that just made me realize something. Now that Xander''s not constantly burning through his mana pool but will be recovering and using and recovering and using, his mana pool is going to sky rocket. At least, as long as he keeps up using higher magics, such as the temporal acceleration and teleportation spells he''s used.

    I''ll never catch up.

    I mean, I sort of always knew that since he''s a god, but still. I was hoping I could at least get close for a little bit.

    "You''re a Lumaria King?" Cody asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "A great-grandson of Adrian King himself. I attempted to evade his notice for years, but then when I finally went to him because a god told me to acquire things legitimately instead of illegally, it turns out that he''d already been monitoring me to make sure I didn''t cross any lines too severe. Is it time for the rest of the tour of the academy?"

    "Oh!" Cody nods. "Yeah! I got distracted ''cause you mentioned the HUD! Come on! So they do the testing in here in the mornings. After that is lunch."

    He shows me to the cafeteria and explains that lunch during the testing is from 11:30 AM to 12:20 PM. Starting at 12:30 PM is the final batch of testing for the day, which takes place in different rooms depending on the day. He doesn''t know them off of the top of his head, but he was given a paper when we were sent off to explore the academy that listed them all, and the staff member with our parents helps a little as well.

    Mostly; he lets Cody lead.

    The afternoon testing is largely the same for everyone on some days, with standard non-core subjects covered. Culinary arts, art, music, health, typing, personal finance, fitness, and magic are those ones. They''re either the full afternoon of testing or only half of it with something else for the second half.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    For the other days, it''s various subjects they know we''re interest in or which we might be interested in. Magitech is on my list, and culinary is split into normal cooking, baking, and candy making for me so I get three tests for that rather than just one. Alchemy and enchanting are both also in my list.

    Since the standard academics testing doesn''t take ten total half-days even with as in-depth it goes, whatever days are left once those tests have determined I don''t know anything about those subjects will be used for other subjects. That enables them to cover as wide of a variety of subjects in two weeks as possible, and is one of the reasons why they''re able to determine our course for the coming school year so well.

    "Want to try the cafeteria''s food?" The staff member walking with us asks. "It''s lunch time now, and they''re serving something that''s pretty typical for during the school year. Adrian King makes sure that while it''s cafeteria food, we have the best chefs preparing it."

    "Sure," I answer. "I could smell pizza when we were near and in it earlier!"

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts toward the end of Greyson''s PoV

    "Jeez," Gabe gasps for breath. "When does your stamina run out?"

    "Come on!" I hop from side to side. "You can''t be getting bested by someone three years your junior, Gabe!"

    "Of course I can," he gives an exhausted snort. "You''re several times as powerful as me, Luke, and have the stamina to match that. Give me¡­ just a minute¡­ to catch my breath."

    Once he''s ready for our next round of sparring, I dash toward him. I''m wearing just the leotard I wear under my normal outfits since it''s safer for my magics. Gabe''s dressed in just a pair of shorts, but they''re the sort with a metallic look which results from the material and treatment which enables them to resist lightning magics.

    Gabe charges his body with lightning a little and dashes toward me while I don''t bolster my speed with it. I''m still able to block his attack, feeling his sparks dance across my arm as I twist into a kick that he ducks. With my strength, I''m able to kick up off the ground at the same time, allowing me to defy gravity and physics in a flip over his arm.

    As I land, I spin and kick at Gabe, but he blocks the attack and pushes it away, using bursts of lightning at his elbow and shoulder to give him an added strength boost. He needs to use his magic in order to keep up with my natural speed.

    We continue sparring, with me holding back while Gabe does his best to take me on. The difference in our bodies'' natural states is extremely high due to just how much mana I have and the fact that my body''s base has adjusted as a result of that.

    The sparring match comes to an end, however, when Mom enters the training room with someone I''ve never met in person but only seen in pictures. Even Gabe comes to a stop when he spots the suit-wearing man with platinum-blond hair and piercing blue-green eyes who looks to be somewhere in his fifties.

    Adrian King himself is here. In the mansion. I knew we had a guest who showed up after Gabe and I began sparring, I just didn''t know who it was.

    Is this because I know about Xander being his great-grandson now and need to die? Well, I don''t know if someone told me this past week and I just forgot it, but it''s pretty obvious with how much mana Xander really has¡­

    Which is in stark contrast to his own strength, now that I think about it. Not because he''s weak or anything, that''s actually understandable. He might have a massive capacity, but he''s basically been lower than a normal person most of his life. His mana hasn''t caused his body''s base to increase as a result.

    No, it''s that Xander''s actually too strong. I realized the other day that when I said that Xander had enhanced himself when he was struggling in the pool that first time, he hadn''t. Xander didn''t cast a self-enhancement spell at all and yet I still needed to use a lot of strength to hold him.

    Despite being so low on mana at all times, he has the strength of someone roughly as powerful as I am.

    Maybe he''s actually some sort of secret, twisted experiment and Xander realized I know who he is and now Adrian King has come to kill me?

    It''s probably a good thing they showed up after I was sparring for more than an hour as I''m not as hyper right now, being a little out of breath.

    "I''m going to die, aren''t I?" I ask.

    "Lucas!" Mom exclaims.

    "Well, I can''t think of any other reason for Adrian King to personally show himself at our home."

    "I''m not here to kill you," Adrian King chuckles. "The world is changing and part of it affects and includes you."

    "That sounds more and more like I''m dying today."

    Adrian King''s gaze flicks to Gabe for a moment, then returns to me.

    "I would like to speak with you in private about something," he says. "If you''re willing to discuss it, of course."

    As scary as that sounds, it''s also an incredible opportunity. Adrian King has personally come to talk with me about something. He clearly spoke with Mom first because our guest ¨C now known to me to be him ¨C did that for almost an hour before they came to the training room.

    At least, it''s an incredible opportunity as long as he''s not really going to kill me.

    "Of course!" I say.

    "Go get cleaned up first," Mom tells me.

    "I''ll be speedy quick!" I lightning-charge myself and dash to the changing room attached to the training room.

    Ten minutes later, I''m showered and dressed in the shorts and a sleeveless I was wearing before now, along with my sneakers.

    "Should I go put on a suit for the talk first?" I ask. "Also, how come Gabe left?"

    "This is a discussion between just the two of us," Adrian King tells me. "Though I did already share some with your mother and she has given permission for me to take you elsewhere."

    "Elsewhere?"

    Before I even finish that word, our location has changed. We''re now on a cliff overlooking a valley with a river cutting through it, the air here surprisingly cool. A mountain range stretches out behind us and a forest rests on the other side of the valley.

    Something about the air and the mana here is¡­ different. Far away from anywhere I''ve ever been before, that''s for sure.

    "Where are we?" I ask. "Er¡­ is that allowed to be asked?"

    "It is," he says. "But whether or not an answer will be given is different. It''s not important to our discussion."

    "Oh."

    "For us to have the full discussion I wish," he says. "I ask that you refrain from sharing most of it with others. It includes details which are not and which many never be made public. In fact, it includes information only a handful of people on Earth have ever learned."

    That sounds like "or you''ll die".

    "I can agree to that," I say. "I know I''m only thirteen, but I''m a mage and a magitech genius who works on secret stuff. I don''t talk about stuff that''s not supposed to be. My parents made sure I know how to not do that."

    "I''m sure," he says. "I want your confirmation first."

    "I won''t share any of your secrets," I tell him. "Anything which I don''t know for certain is allowed to be said, I won''t even mention I know."

    "Good," he casts his gaze out across the valley. "You know the history of how I was met, yes?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "The descendants of those who crossed the Bering Strait eventually met you while dealing with monsters some thousands of years ago. It was the first time anyone ever went that far south. No one knows your origins, just that you were there, knew their language, and resembled some of the tribes but were clearly not of them. You then taught them magic, turning them into the first mages of North American and Earth itself. Aside from you, of course."

    "Indeed," he says. "And I had lived there for hundreds of thousands of years, in total isolation."

    "Hundreds of-" I cut off.

    There''s no reason for Adrian King to lie to me and his tone is serious. He''s hundreds of thousands of years old?

    "Even older than what you''re thinking," he says. "I am quite the ancient being, and my power level is great enough that I can shape entire worlds, should I so wish. This form you see before me isn''t my real self."

    His body morphs into that of someone in his late teens, maybe early twenties.

    "This is my real self," he tells me. "Though even this isn''t quite accurate. Rather than shapeshifting like I do when I take on a more elderly form, I alter my body''s very biology with magic to ensure I keep an appearance that''s similar to what the people of the time look like."

    That¡­ honestly sounds insane, but this is the man who taught humanity magic.

    "You''re not really human, are you?"

    "I am," he answers. "But not many people have ever seen this form of mine."

    "Because people would have a harder time believing you as an ancient mage if you looked young?" I ask. "I promise I won''t tell anyone."

    The potential punishments for sharing his secrets is far too frightening.

    "I''m sure you''ve heard of the rumors that I secretly run the world from the shadows," he suddenly says.

    "Well, yeah," I say. "But those are just rumors, right?"

    He gives me an amused look.

    "They''re¡­ not?"

    "Talent comes partly from one''s body and inheritance," he looks back out across the valley. "And partly from one''s soul. If their soul is not strong enough or talented enough for the body, it causes problems and the person ends up destroying themselves completely. On the opposite side, if the soul is too strong, their body adapts to it, allowing it to harness its real talent.

    "When I settled in the area," he says. "The soul cycle didn''t filter souls to match the relative strength of the body it was in. It could be too strong or too weak, and on extreme levels. It would even dump souls into the wrong species type. There were souls millions of times stronger than others being born into the same species."

    "An immense power disparity."

    "Indeed," he says. "And that leads to chaos without a proper way to manage it. I therefore created a filter for the world''s soul cycle. It prevents any soul too strong from being entered into a body not meant for it, and also ensures that souls are entered into bodies of the right species type. So dragon souls aren''t born into human bodies and vice versa, for example. That ensures things progress at a more steady pace. If a soul which is too strong for its species type on Earth comes here from the soul plane, it bounces off the filter and looks for another world.

    "This keeps people around the same relative power level," I say. "With some exceptions based on bloodlines, right?"

    "Indeed," he says. "All it takes is one powerful soul to create ripples, and the filter prevents those ripples from being too severe. This allows mankind adjust to power levels more easily while preventing sudden jumps which can cause problems.

    "That filter," he looks at me again. "Should not have allowed your soul to enter Earth. Your body should have received a soul roughly as great as Gabriel''s."

    That''s¡­ seriously?

    "My soul isn''t supposed to be here?" I frown. "You waited until I exhausted myself a bit so I wouldn''t freak out, didn''t you?"

    "That did factor into it, yes," he says. "Your soul should have gone to another world, been born elsewhere, in a place where such genius and raw magical talent wouldn''t be outside the norm."

    "So some souls can make it through the filter?"

    "No," he answers. "Around twenty years ago, the filter broke. To be more precise, a soul of such great potential and talent crashed into it as it attempted to find a suitable host and caused cracks all along it. I thought I rooted out all of the powerful souls which made it through, but some managed to escape my notice."

    "And mine was one," I say. "What about that other one? Is it Greyson?"

    "No," he chuckles. "If it was Greyson''s soul, he''d even even more of a bundle of talent than he currently is. That soul hit the filter and bounced off like it should have, just with enough force it broke the filter."

    "So my soul managed to slip through when it shouldn''t have been here," I say. "And that''s¡­ causing ripples?"

    "Yours is outside the norm," he says. "And the ripples you create are large enough to impact society. That''s why I monitor you ¨C because your soul is greater than the norm for this world and shouldn''t be here. The portable generator you''re working on will provide power to people in disasters across the continent. The magitech you invented for it? Shouldn''t have been invented for another forty or fifty years without a soul like yours getting involved"

    "So I was born fifty years too early?"

    "More like two hundred," he says. "And as I said, your soul wasn''t the only one which slipped through the cracks. You were right in that Greyson''s is one of them, and there are three more souls even more powerful than his which made it through. Two were born into the main branch of my family, and the third was born to an unrelated bloodline in the eastern Midwest. Ones not as powerful as those four but still far above the norm include the fire mage from Boston and Matt King, both born far ahead of their time."

    "Xander," I realize. "He''s one of them ¨C and there was an article about him riding a hoverboard, which he confirmed to me that he made. That''s why you''re here. It''s too early, isn''t it?"

    "Based on my analysis of other worlds," Adrian says. "We''re still around a century and a half too early to construct a proper hoverboard without an issue in power, distance, or other mechanics. The magitech Xander invented for his? A thousand years ahead, and he''s currently fixing some issues with that tech."

    Xander built a piece of magietech a century and a half before its earliest properly-functional versions, but a millennium ahead of the magitech he created for it. No wonder Adrian King put such a filter on the soul cycle of Earth, if it prevents people from being that far ahead.

    "Small leaps ahead are fine," he says. "They happen all the time, after all. Even bringing something a century early is fine. Souls within the standard can do that if the circumstances are right."

    "But not a thousand years ahead," I say.

    "Not a thousand years ahead," he says. "If it were just Xander, things would be fine. But as you know, Greyson is also a soul beyond what this world should have right now."

    "With two such people," I say. "And the others on their level, and those of us above the norm but not at theirs¡­ things are going to change a lot soon, aren''t they?"

    "Quite a lot," he says. "People believe me to be controlling the world from the shadows ¨C and they''re right, to a degree. I''m slowing Earth''s progress to avoid such a power disparity which could destroy society. At the same time, however, I''ve been helping it to thrive with what it has. Nudging things here and there, making sure the right technology is out when others are released, and so on."

    "Your academy for gifted children," I say. "That''s one of them, isn''t it? Everyone there learns at least the basics of magic, but it''s also there to help them thrive in the areas they''re gifted in."

    There was an offer made for me to attend since I''m pretty gifted with lightning magics and magitech, but I declined. My parents can offer me the resources I need to flourish.

    "That''s one of them, yes," he says. "The free internet for all of North America is another, and some other things. Things which might seem minor but add up to bigger things. I released the basics for the designs behind magitech cars to make traveling easier when I noticed certain types of expansions were happening.

    "In the era that''s coming," he says. "Another magitech item is necessary. With what those two, you, and several others are inventing or which I expect to be invented, it''s time for scientech to fade to the background and switch into magitech."

    "That''s not that easy to do," I say. "Magic crystals and mana crystals are a little on the expensive side since mining them can be difficult and it takes skill for a mage to make them on their own."

    Ordinary materials can be turned into magic ones with the use of mana crystals and is one of the ways ordinary iron becomes steel usable in magitech. The only way for us to move scientech into the background and let magitech take over is to either increase our supply of other materials or increase our supply of magical crystals. Pure mana crystals will be especially important since they''re the origin of the main fuel for magitech as well.

    Most mages won''t want to craft the crystals themselves too often since it requires them using up a lot of mana at once and there''s a lot of waste.

    "Indeed," he holds a hand out to me and a device appears in it. "Or they can channel their mana into the handle of this and a magic crystal will form. All you need to know is how to manipulate your mana and you can use it. Not only that, but it''s far more efficient than nearly anyone can manage with crafting. The loss rate is only ten percent."

    The device he''s handing me doesn''t look all that special, just a rod-like handle which fits into my hand pretty well and a box-like top to it with a sort of screen on it.

    "So lesser mages can use it easily," I say. "They can earn some cash while increase the mana crystal supply."

    "Not just lesser mages," he says. "My academy teaches everyone magic even if they don''t already know it as a condition of studying there. The purpose of that was to try and spread the use of magic more throughout the continent and while it works, it''s slow. The technique for sensing and manipulating one''s mana which is taught there isn''t spread very wide outside, either, but with it, it generally only takes a few months at the most."

    "Wait," I say. "That means even ordinary people could learn to use one of these within a few months."

    "And I''ll be setting up stations in various places across the US and Canada to grant access to these," he says. "Places which will teach you how to sense and manipulate your mana for free. Depending on how things go, the base for Earth will increase within a generation."

    Therefore allowing stronger souls to show up. Just using one''s mana like that won''t really affect their pool, but if ordinary people learn to manipulate their mana to earn extra cash with these, then they might learn magic as well. Casting spells will then help them boost their reserves and talents, which can get passed down to their children once they have some.

    "And if someone''s bloodline is tuned to an element," Adrian King says. "That device will create magic crystals of the related element. So for you, it would be lightning mana crystals rather than plain ones."

    "Really?" I ask.

    "Really," he says. "Would you like to give it a try? Just turn it on, set it to accept mana, then channel some in. It''s designed to create a crystal up to 5,000 mana, but you pick how much goes in."

    "Okay," I say.

    He shows me how to turn it on and adjust the settings, then I channel some mana into it. The display panel on the box shows how much mana is being stored in a crystal and when I stop pushing mana in, the amount on the screen keeps increasing.

    "It''s not converting it immediately," I realize as it reaches 1,003 mana for the crystal, just barely over the amount I tried to bring it to. "But at a steady pace while keeping the rest of the mana put in on hold."

    "Indeed," Adrian King smiles a little. "And when it says it''s completed, you can open up the top and pull out the crystal."

    I do that and find myself holding a lightning mana crystal, small sparks running through the 3" sphere. This is insane.

    He''s just been sitting on this technology, and all because he didn''t want Earth to advance too quickly in case it destroyed itself in the process. I''m sure he''ll continue to ensure things don''t accelerate too fast, but still. This is absolutely insane.

    "You can keep the device, by the way," he says. "I know you use a crystal sphere to move your mana into when you want to lower the amount."

    "Yeah," I say. "This is way more efficient. We don''t need to put a crystal inside?"

    "Indeed not," he answers. "Just move your mana within and you''re good."

    "Alright," I say. "Um¡­ Mr. King? I take it that you wanted to give me context about what''s going to happen and that''s the secret, and this coming out soon isn''t?"

    "Correct."

    "How come you''re telling me all this?" I ask. "Is it okay to ask that? I just feel weird knowing the truth."

    This is some pretty major stuff and while I am one of the genius/over-talented souls he wanted to keep from being born on Earth for awhile¡­ I''m still only thirteen.

    "You''re one of the ones making the changes," he says. "And live in an area with others doing the same. You''re also actively working towards it."

    There''s more to it than that, but he''s not going to tell me.

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ is it okay to ask you about something? Or is that not allowed? I''ve never been taught the proper protocol for when the literal First Mage of Earth approaches me¡­"

    "Is it about your mana?" He asks.

    "How did you-" I shake my head. "Of course you know."

    "Your parents mentioned it while we were talking," he says. "When I showed them the device and they used it, it reminded them of what you told them Xander had mentioned. That your mana isn''t just tuned to lightning magics, that it has sparks in it."

    "Y-yeah," I nod. "I can''t tell what he''s talking about when I try to sense my own mana, though. But he said it always gets more active when I have more mana, and having more mana just starts making my hyper and talkative and since I''m pretty full on mana right now and have had time to properly catch my breath it''s starting to happen again and-"

    "And it wasn''t coming out because you were too focused on what I was saying to have an opportunity to talk," he chuckles. "But I did notice the signs of you getting hyper again. Your hair''s been sparking for about five minutes now."

    "What?" I reach up and feel my hair and the sparks dancing through it. "Argh! Not when I''m in front of you! I''m sorry!"

    "It''s fine," he tells me. "I''ve raised many children in my time, I''m not as strict or stern about appearances as you might think from my position. In regards to your question¡­ I''ll give you a clue and let you figure out the rest."

    Even a clue will be massively helpful.

    "Okay," I say.

    "The law of magical amplification is affected by it as well."

    The next thing I know, I''m back in the training room at home with the crystal-making device in one hand, my new lightning mana crystal in the other, and Adrian King is nowhere to be seen. In fact, no one else is in here.

    "Wh-hey! Don''t leave it at just that!" I exclaim. "How is that even slightly helpful? That makes no sense!"

    The law of magical amplification is already at play because of my bloodline''s talent with lightning magics. He just gave me no help at all!

    But it''s Adrian King¡­ if he mentioned that as a clue, then there''s got to be something else involved which affects it. What do I know of that can cause the law of magical amplification to activate? No, not activate, to be affected.

    Hm¡­ I sit down as I start thinking over the different magical laws and theories I know of which are confirmed to affect or work with that. I set the tool and crystal to the side and conjure some lightning in front of me to give me something to do as I think, as this might take some time and I can''t only sit here thinking.

    Time to start with the things which are known to be affected by the law of magical amplification the most and work down to the ones affected by it the least.

 Chapter 0062

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Total victory!" I exclaim as I bounce and start doing a little dance in my seat. "Oh yeah, I did it! I won! I''m the Bastion you can''t breach! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Ain''t no monsters gettin'' through me! Un-uh un-uh un-uh!"

    "Duty of Loyalty?" A voice startles me from behind, nearly making me fall out of my seat as I turn to face the speaker.

    "Aaah! Attacker! Run away!" I exclaim as I hurriedly but carefully pull off my headset and tackle him.

    "This isn''t running!" Carter laughs before wrestling me into a headlock.

    "Hey! You''re like, a billion times stronger! That''s unfair!"

    "You started it!" He snickers. "Yield to the king or it''s to the pillory for you!"

    "Pillory?" I ask. "Isn''t it the stocks?"

    "Those are for the feet," he says. "Pillory''s the one for the head and hands."

    "Oh, okay!" I say. "I''ll never yield to-wait. Why are you here? Didn''t you return home a couple of days ago?"

    "Yeah," he releases me and I sit up. "But I wanted to meet the guy with the hoverboard, so I asked Dad to bring me back down here! Mom''s coming back from her trip this evening, anyway, so he''d be coming back over later to pick her up. Tate''s here, too. He''s in the bathroom, though. You were super engrossed in your match and he couldn''t hold it anymore even though you were at the end. Did you¡­ solo everything?"

    "Rest of my party was bunch of scrubs and died," I say. "So yeah, I had to take out all of the enemy soldiers and the invading monsters all on my own."

    "That''s really good," he says. "I mean, I haven''t played it, but I''ve seen a little gameplay of it from European streamers. Can''t really speak English, but it looks hard."

    "I''m a god-tier gamer!" I thump my chest.

    "Sure," he says. "So can we meet him? You said you''re friends, right?"

    This might not be a good idea. Xander can be really shy about some things.

    "Um¡­ maybe?" I ask. "I''d have to ask him, and he''ll probably say no."

    "Got some secret contract or something on it?" Carter asks.

    "Nah," I say. "He built it, but he''s also super shy about stuff he makes. I think. At least, he seems that way. You saw the puzzle sphere."

    "Wait!" He says. "It''s the same friend who made that?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He apparently tinkers with magitech as a hobby and I guess he just¡­ went and made a hoverboard? He said it''s so he can stay with us when we''re on our bikes. Guess he felt bad that we''d walk our bikes instead of ride. He''s super considerate like that, and lemme send him a text to see."

    [Sig]: Hey! My friends from the ranches came back out today! They wanna know if they can try your hoverboard! I promise they''re super cool dudes and just wanna check it out!

    He''s typing almost immediately after I hit SEND, then there''s a pause, then he''s typing again.

    [Xander]: I don''t feel comfortable with that.

    The app says he''s still typing, though, so I wait to see what else he says.

    [Xander]: But I made a second one I was going to give to Greyson. They can ride that one instead if Mr. Trey says it''s okay.

    [Xander]: Where at?

    [Xander]: Using the ikrozmin rune definitely fixed the wobbles.

    [Xander]: Did I bother you guys last night? I know I didn''t do sleepover very good. And I asked lots of questions, too.

    That last bit must be what he was originally typing, though the bit about the rune makes me giggle. He was solving problems in his sleep.

    [Sig]: No! It was fun having you over! We had to remind ourselves you didn''t really play games so wouldn''t know that stuff, but we didn''t care we had to explain! You should ask your dad about playing those games with us next time so you can give it a try if you want!

    [Sig]: Oh! Also! Is this the dog you mentioned? The one constantly getting adopted and returned?

    I send him a picture of Turtle and me from when we were playing this morning. Mr. Fuller left with his son and dog after lunch and that''s when I came in here to play games.

    [Xander]: That looks like Turtle. Are you at the store right now? Or the grassy part next to it? That''s not store-floor tile so did he have to go poo?

    [Sig]: I took that this morning from Aunt Rachel''s backyard! Remember Mr. Fuller? Hunter''s dad? He adopted him! I bet they''re gonna keep him! Mr. Fuller seems like a cool dude!

    [Xander]: Maybe.

    [Xander]: Mr. Trey wants to know where at for the hoverboard.

    "Xander says you can''t ride his hoverboard," I tell Carter.

    "Aww," he looks massively disappointed.

    "But you can ride the other one he built," I snicker. "He wants to know where to go."

    "How about Nine Springs?" Carter bounces a little in his excitement.

    "What about Nine Springs?" Tate asks as he exits the bathroom.

    "Lots of space there!" Carter answers as I give Tate a fist-bump. "Xander said we can ride one of his hoverboards. He''s apparently got two, and S.G. says he made them, not that he was given them. We can test them out at the park there!"

    I let Xander know, then pull on socks and sneakers and grab my things. We head upstairs to where Aunt Rachel and Mr. Martins are talking. Whoa. The last time I saw them together was last year so I didn''t really notice it then, but now that Carter''s growing in puberty, he''s starting to look a lot like his dad.

    "Can we go to the park in Nine Springs?" Carter asks his dad. "That''ll give us plenty of space. Xander said I can use one!"

    "Sure," Mr. Martins says, then looks at Aunt Rachel. "Will you come with us?"

    "Xander''s dad''s probably going to be there," I tell her before she can have a chance to refuse. "Since he doesn''t know these guys, he''ll probably want to meet them and figure out if they''re good or not. And you know he''ll want to make sure Xander''s safe, too."

    Meaning he''ll probably have his own security present but hidden, just in case.

    "Alright," she says. "But-"

    "Can I ride with them?" I ask. "Pleasepleaseplease?"

    Aunt Rachel doesn''t look comfortable with it, but she agrees.

    "Yes!" I cheer.

    "Make sure to have a helmet!" She says. "And do you have elbow and knee pads?"

    "All in my backpack!" I tell her. "Except the helmet, lemme grab that!"

    I grab my helmet, then we all leave. Tate, Carter, and I ride in the bed of the truck and talk as we go, while Aunt Rachel drives her own car. Xander texts during the trip to ask about which park and once I remember that Nine Springs had several of them and let him know, he lets me know he''ll be there soon.

    When we arrive, Xander and his dad are there, with Xander riding back and forth on his hoverboard while wearing his helmet, pads, and even some gloves that might be just in case. There''s another hoverboard floating about half a foot off the ground near Mr. Caldwell.

    "And when you want to stop," Xander is saying as the truck parks. "You just stop like this. Oh, I didn''t describe it again. Okay, let me try again."

    "They''re here," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "Yeah, I saw," Xander says. "But I wanted to still practice."

    "Hi, Xander!" I say, and Xander looks over.

    "Hi-" he starts to respond, but his gaze switches to Carter. "Whoa, he''s cute."

    We all stare at him as he gives us small nods. Then his face turns to horror.

    "I said that out loud, didn''t I?" He asks in a panic. "I''m sorry! I didn''t mean to say it out loud it was just a thought I had and-"

    "Hey!" Carter gives him a big grin. "No worries, man! You''re pretty cute, too! S.G. says you built the hoverboards?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods, his cheeks pink in a happy way now. "Um¡­ I go by Xander. He probably told you my name, but I wanted to let you know I go by Xander, just in case."

    "He did!" Carter nods as Xander steps off of his hoverboard, which continues hovering in place. "I''m Carter, and this is Tate! I do streaming and post videos of me goofing around, doing freerunning, playing with magic, and some other stuff! Basically, lots of stuff I find fun! And when I saw the article showing the hoverboarding, I asked S.G. if he knew anything about it because it looks like crazy fun!

    "So I know S.G. didn''t ask you when he texted you," Carter says. "But would it be alright if I posted a video of me learning to ride it? If you say ''no'', then I won''t do a video. It''s kind of crazy tech and you probably don''t want any proper videos up yet."

    "I don''t mind," Xander says. "Mr. Trey already said it''s okay. Um. Please hold on."

    Xander goes to his backpack and opens it up, then pulls out some stuff.

    "These are chest cameras," he says. "Mr. Trey suggested I bring them. You strap them to your chest and can record stuff or even stream live. He had me make an account for streaming the other day ''cause of the AR set, just in case I wanted to, and said when we were getting ready to come out here that it might not be a bad idea to bring the cameras. I don''t know when he bought them or why, but they aren''t needed for the AR set because those can record on their own already, but I''m not telling him that."

    "Xander?" Mr. Caldwell snorts. "You weren''t whispering."

    Xander''s face turns bright red as he gets the "I''m so stupid" look he gets sometimes.

    "And I bought them before I picked you up from the sleepover this morning," Mr. Caldwell tells him. "Specifically because of the hoverboard. That way you can record your trips, though they also work for streaming in case you wanted to do that."

    "Can he stream?" Carter asks. "You have to be thirteen and S.G. told me on the way here that he''s twelve."

    "I''ll be thirteen next month," Xander says. "And you can if you''re younger if you have verification from your parent or legal guardian that they''re managing the account, comments, posts, and so on. Mr. Trey said he''ll take care of that stuff for me right now so I don''t have to worry about it. I wasn''t really sure about why he wanted me to make the account for the AR stuff, but he explained it''s so that I can show off the stuff to others."

    "What''s AR?" I ask.

    "Augmented reality, I think," Carter says. "Is that it?"

    "Yeah," Xander nods. "I''m making an AR game. It''s as zombie shooter, but it''s not ready yet."

    "Ooh! Good luck!" Carter tells him. "I''ve heard AR tech isn''t really there for high-quality gaming yet. You can do low-level gaming with it but nothing too smooth and seamless. Tried looking into it for some of my videos, but it was meh so I never posted them."

    Xander looks uncomfortable for some reason.

    "So if I don''t want you posting a video of the hoverboards," he looks Carter in the eyes. "You really won''t?"

    "Yeah!" Carter says. "I''d love to make an episode of me riding them, but won''t if you don''t want me to! Dad says it''s always good to respect others'' wishes for their property!"

    "Okay," Xander says. "Mr. Trey said it''s fine to post videos or stream. He even suggested maybe I try and stream it and see what others think, but I''m not really sure. These cameras can stream directly, too. We just gotta set up the streams. I don''t know how to do that."

    "Oh, cool!" Carter says. "Can I stream, too? Including you showing me how to use them?"

    "Okay," Xander looks extremely uncomfortable and he''s breathing a little quickly. Should I say something? "Can you show me how to set up the streaming stuff?"

    "Sure!" Carter says. "We just need a phone or computer with the streaming app on it! I''ve got my phone."

    Xander pulls a laptop out of his backpack, and Carter walks him through how to set up a stream. They then strap a camera to their chests and Tate takes the phone from Carter and gets ready to start the stream while Carter asks Xander a few questions in quiet, then they stand beside each other and look at the phone. Mr. Caldwell his holding up a phone as well, so I''m guessing they''re starting the streams with their phones, then will switch to the cameras on their chests once they''re ready to go for rides.

    "Ready, Xander?"

    "No, but I''m not sure I''ll ever be ready so it''s probably best to just start."

    Tate and Carter both laugh a little, and Tate gives Carter the go-ahead.

    "Hey, everybody!" Carter says. "Carter here, back in the same place as my last video! Some of you might recognize this cool guy right beside me! His name''s Xander, and there was an article last night about him riding a hoverboard around Dragon Falls! Well, it turns out that he built it, and he''s got two of them! So I asked if I could give riding it a try and here we are! He seems pretty chill and cool and he''s got his own channel he''s streaming on right now, XTK9! Go on and check him out if you want, it''s his first stream! Xander, wanna greet your viewers?"

    "Hi," Xander says. "I go by Xander and I built my hoverboard so that I don''t have to learn how to ride a bike to hang out with my friends-" the fact that he''s openly admitting that on camera makes me giggle. "-and Carter asked me if I could let him give one a try. He''s not riding mine, though. I have a second one I built earlier and he''ll be riding on that instead. And they''re a lot safer than skateboards because they don''t have wheels which can fall off."

    Xander nods with a very serious expression on his face after he says that part and I have to try really hard not to laugh again.

    "Okay!" Carter chuckles a little. "So we''re gonna get started now! How do you get on them?"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    I probably fucked up greeting the viewers. They''re not going to be mine as I''m too stupid to have them, but Carter''s chat probably doesn''t like me. I don''t know what I did wrong, I just know that I probably did do something wrong.

    And on the channel of someone liked by the fake fairies even more than S.G., Russel, and Luke combined.

    I don''t want to screw things up more, so I go straight to explaining how to ride the hoverboards. First, I move the second one nearer to mine, then I look at Carter.

    "To get on the hoverboard," I say. "You just step up like this," I step up onto it. "It doesn''t wobble as you do, allowing you to get on easily."

    "Okay!" Carter cautiously steps around to the other side of the other hoverboard, then steps up onto it. "Whoa! It really isn''t wobbling at all! I feel like I''m wobbling, though."

    So it''s not just a me thing, feeling as if wobbling when I''m not.

    "I feel the same way after stepping onto it," I tell him, then step off. "But I get used to it after the first few minutes, so you probably will as well. Maybe even faster."

    "I do a lot of freerunning, so maybe!" Carter tells me. "What made you pick their hover height?"

    "I did 7" over the ground for the bottom," I step back onto mine. "Because that''s one of the standards for stairs, so I figured it was better. But if testing shows it should be higher or lower, I''ll adjust that."

    "Okay!" Carter says. "And how do you get them to move? I''m trying to avoid moving around right now in case it makes it go."

    "That one''s currently set to just hover," I tell him. "So you can shift around and stuff without making it glide. You''ll have to change that first, and you can do it by saying ''activate glide mode'' while focusing on it. To turn it off, you can just say ''stop'' while intending it for the board. That''s faster, so it''s easier if you need to do an emergency stop for whatever reason. The commands won''t work unless it''s the person who''s riding them saying them and it''s intended for the board they''re on. That ensures other people can''t just turn them on and off."

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    They also don''t need the commands, but I felt it was a good idea to put them in just in case I make mistakes.

    "It can read my mind?" Carter gives me a look that I think is surprise.

    "No," I shake my head. "It can tell if something is directed at it and whether or not it''s the person that''s on it directing the comment. No mind-reading involved. I wasn''t sure if that''d be legal or not so I did something different."

    "Oh, cool!" He seems to think that. "How does it do that, though, if it''s not mind magic?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think of how to explain this. This wasn''t covered as a possible question. "It''s more of¡­ it can hear voices fine. And¡­ have you ever felt like someone is talking to you but they aren''t even looking at you and you aren''t looking at them?"

    "Yeah!" He answers. "Doesn''t everyone?"

    "So it works on that concept," I say. "Just as people can often tell if someone is talking to them, it can do the same. You aren''t reading their mind, you''re just receiving their intent. That''s hard to explain, but the board does the same thing. It has a setup in it to be able to detect when things are directed at it. It''s a type of sensor similar to the one that lets it know if more physical things are directed at it."

    "To make sure it doesn''t get messed up if something like a ball bounces into the path?"

    Not exactly what the sensor was for, but it''d definitely work for that.

    "Yeah."

    "Cool!" He says. "So once it''s on, how do you control it?"

    "With your feet," I answer, but Mr. Trey and I were working on me explaining this before, so I know that''s not the only answer I need to give. "You can bend your knees like this if it''s more comfortable. I find it more comfortable to ride it this way, but you can also ride while standing straight.

    "To start moving forward once it''s on," I tell him. "You turn the foot that''s on that side of the board in that direction, so if you want to go forward on your right side, it''s your right foot, and left foot for forward on the left side."

    I''m facing him with my right side feeling like "forward" to me, so I turn my right foot away from my body and my board starts moving forward. When I turn my foot back so it''s lined up with my left foot, the board stops. I turn my left foot to face away from my body, and the board goes forward in that direction. There''s no "backwards" for this movement type, since back would be the other directional way.

    I forget the name name for it, but that''s also forward. It''s a two-forward-no-back hoverboard, and I''m not sure how to explain that properly so I skip trying and hope Carter doesn''t ask.

    "You stop by making your feet parallel to each other again," I tell Carter when I stop in front of him. "And if you want more speed, lean in that direction a little. More lean means more speed."

    Carter gives it a try, wobbling a little on his own, without the board wobbling.

    "Wh-whoa!" He exclaims. "I feel like I''m going to fall off!"

    "A helmet and pads are recommended," I tell him. "But the boards have magics that keep you from falling off. I know they work at slower speeds, but I''m not sure about higher ones."

    "I''m tough as golems!" Carter thumps his chest. S.G. does that a lot when he''s showing off, so that''s probably a normal thing for strong boys our age. "A fall like this can''t hurt me! And I know how to magically-enhance my resilience to harm, too. That helps."

    "Oh."

    Greyson tried teaching me that spell before. Maybe now that my mana isn''t all tied up, I could try again? But that''s not for here or now. Teaching Carter how to ride a hoverboard properly is important both because I don''t want to get into trouble for screwing it up but also because he''s streaming it and I don''t want his fans to get mad at him for showing someone like me in his streams or videos.

    Also because the not-real fairies like him a lot. Well, and because he''s way cuter than even Russell is. There''s also that if I make him look bad, he might get mad at S.G. for introducing us and that might make S.G. not want to hang out anymore.

    So I want to make sure I do this right.

    "To turn," I say. "Slide your feet. You won''t actually slide your feet ¨C the board''s magics will keep that from happening ¨C but it''ll let the board know which way to turn. You can lean forward or backwards, too. I like to do fancy turns and stops, that''s really fun. If you lean forward to you but not the board ¨C or just put more pressure on it with the front of your feet ¨C it''ll make the board lean that way. Same if you lean backwards to you or put more weight on the backs of your feet. Like this."

    I demonstrate with my hoverboard, first leaning forward, then leaning back, then I show him how to steady himself after. Then, I show him my fancy turns and stops, where I lean forward a little if I''m turning in the direction of my front of lean back a little if I''m turning in the direction of my back. That includes the way I bring the board up facing away from me in a small spin when I stop, too.

    "What happens if you lean too far forward?" Carter asks as he leans forward. "Whoa! Oh, that''s so cool!"

    The hoverboard prevented him from being able to angle it too much. He tries it backwards and discovers the same thing, then rights himself. The board doesn''t just prevent him from turning it too much, it also keeps him "centered" on it. I think that''s the best term but it''s probably not quite accurate. He won''t slide forward or anything, as if the hoverboard is the ground, rather than the ground being the ground.

    It''s similar to gravity, but I don''t think it''s gravity.

    This kind of stuff would probably be easier for Greyson to explain than it is for me. I''m pretty sure I can''t explain it properly. Fortunately, it doesn''t seem like Carter actually cares about that.

    "Okay!" He says. "I''m gonna try going again!"

    Carter wobbles a little as he adjusts to not having to worry about balance, though he does make several "whoa" and similar noises. I ride alongside him as he goes and he picks up speed, quickly starting to do turns and tilts and even does a few spins and flips.

    It doesn''t take him long to get more comfortable and go even faster, letting out several loud calls for some reason. When he realizes I''m pretty far behind him, he stops where he is and waits for me to catch up.

    "This is pretty cool!" He tells me. "So it won''t let us lean too far, but it will let us do flips if we do the lean to the sides?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "But only if you''re trying for a flip. I did make sure that it can tell the intent for those."

    That seemed to be a thing people with skateboards did based on the videos I watched of them earlier. Mr. Trey suggested I watch them to learn some of the movements people make on those, since hoverboards are similar to them in some ways.

    "It''s pretty cool!" Carter tells me. "You''re really good at riding it. Have you been practicing a lot?"

    "No," I shake my head. "But the hoverboard was designed to be easy to use. I just have to remind myself that I won''t fall, then remind myself again, then again. Then I can ride it without too much worry, and that seems to make it easier. And when I''m actually gliding¡­ it feels kind of like what I think it might be for dragons to fly, too, just in a glide over the ground. So that makes it pretty fun."

    "You like dragons?" Carter asks.

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Can you do magic?" He asks. "Can you breathe fire, too? Then you could really pretend to be a dragon, gliding around on your hoverboard and breathing fire!"

    "I don''t want to pretend I''m a dragon," I tell him. "Since I''m not one. But I can breathe fire."

    Mr. Trey told me I shouldn''t tell people the reason why I learned how to breathe fire whenever I mention I mention I know the spell, so I do my best to resist the urge.

    "Can I see?" Carter asks. "It''s gotta be pretty cool! My family raises flaremane horses and while they can''t breathe fire, I love watching the flames on their manes and tails sometimes!"

    Flaremane horses sound strange.

    "Um¡­ sure," I say. "Let me look away from you."

    Since I''m doing this for his fans, I should make sure it''s the most impressive fire breath I can manage. That should make sure his fans don''t get upset with him for asking someone to do something that''s boring or lame. I inhale deeply as I form the spell, then I begin casting the flame breath spell as I aim it away from people and objects.

    When the flames form, they stream out in a jet stretching over two hundred feet in length, billowing out to the sides a little as well. I maintain the spell for a full minute, then cancel it and look at Carter who''s just staring at where the flames had been flowing.

    Then he looks at me.

    "That. Was. AWESOME!" He jumps a little, and that causes him to fall when his feet slip as they land back on the hoveboard.

    I quickly move forward to catch him so he doesn''t hit his face. He steps backwards up onto the board once he''s regained his balance.

    "Sorry," I tell him. "Sorry! I didn''t-you-it''s just-"

    "No worries!" He grins at me. "I jumped in excitement, that''s not something you''d think about for a hoverboard! It must''ve just registered that I was trying to get off, is all! Totally my fault! That was so cool, though! The fire breath! I''ve never seen one so big before!"

    "I-I meant for touching you," I say. "Without permission or asking."

    "What?" He looks confused. "When you caught me so I wouldn''t land on my face? Why would I be mad about that? You were trying to help me not get hurt! I mean, it wasn''t really needed, but it''s not like you''d know that for sure! I''d try to catch you if that happened to you, too!"

    Oh. I guess he''s like most people and is fine getting touched, but it''s weird he''s okay with it being a stranger. I won''t say that, though.

    "I can do a water breath!" He adds. "My family has an affinity for water magics; using it helps us with the horses so we use it a lot. And recently, I learned how to make it into an ice breath! Wanna see?"

    How does it compare to my spell for it?

    "Sure," I nod.

    Carter lets out a breath of ice and frosty mist that extends out about ten feet from his mouth. He only holds it for about ten seconds before he stops, then he gives me a grin.

    "So?" He asks. "Impressive, right?"

    It''s nowhere near the size of the one I can do, but I''m pretty sure most kids our age can''t make a frost breath at all. I think that means it''s impressive.

    "Yeah," I nod. "How come you make the magic go fwh-fwh instead of bwoo-bwoo, though?"

    "Huh?" He gives me a confused look.

    "The ice magics," I say. "Wouldn''t it be more effective to make the part that actually creates the ice and frosty mist go bwoo-bwoo instead of fwh-fwh? You''re wasting mana and it''s harder to control with fwh-fwh. I''m probably bad at explaining this¡­"

    "You can''t be good at everything!" He laughs. "You made some epic boards, Xander! Wanna see who can ride them the coolest?"

    "I don''t like competitions," I shake my head. "And how would that get compared?"

    "We ask chat!" Carter tells me. "We can set up polls in them! So we can ride the boards for a minute or so and when we''re done, open polls to see who chat votes the best! And it''s just for fun ¨C there''s no reward or anything!"

    "Can you do polls to see which of your flips and turns they like the best?" I ask.

    "Definitely!" He answers. "Dad! I''m gonna do some flips and turns and spins! Once I''m done, can you poll chat to see which they like the best? I''ll do five!"

    We''re over five hundred feet away from the adults and S.G. and Tate.

    "Your dad can hear you from here?" I ask. "You weren''t yelling."

    "He can hear me from the stream," Carter tells me.

    "He can?"

    "Yeah!" Carter nods. "He''s watching it, too. I think. Dad! Dump water on Tate if you''ve got sound on!"

    We can see Mr. Martins summon water over Tate and drop it on the boy as he tries to escape. It looks like Tate is laughing, though, so I think he doesn''t mind.

    I''m glad that wasn''t me. I would get very mad if someone did that to me.

    "Okay!" Carter says. "I''m gonna start now¡­ and go!"

    He glides a bit before doing two spins, two turns, and one flip. Then he dances a little with his upper body as he returns to beside me.

    "That was so fun!" He says. "Okay, chat! Put your votes in! Which did you think was the coolest? First spin, second spin, first turn, second turn, or the flip? Get them in now before the poll ends!"

    Carter does some more tricks, braving fancier ones than I would''ve even though he''s still wobbling. I''ve already checked with my magesight and it''s not the hoverboard''s fault, he''s just still a little unsteady because he feels like he should be wobbling, I think.

    "Hey!" Carter exclaims after a minute of that. "Can Tate and S.G. give it a try, too? If they want?"

    I don''t mind S.G. trying, but letting Carter try already pushed me to the edge of my comfort zone. I only agreed because S.G. said he''s a good person and I don''t think S.G. would lie, but I also don''t think I can handle two people I don''t know giving them a try. Saying "no" to even one of his friends now that I''ve let the other try will probably make S.G. not want to hang out with me anymore and I like hanging out with him.

    "Um¡­ let''s go ask them¡­"

    "Okay!" Carter says.

    We glide back to the others and Carter asks Tate and S.G. if they want to give it a try.

    "No," Tate''s lying when he says that. "It looks fun, but I want to keep my feet firmly on the ground."

    A complete lie. Why is he lying about wanting to ride a hoverboard? I''m happy he''s turning it down, but really confused about why. I want to ask, but that might make them mad at me and then S.G. won''t want to hang out with me again.

    "Sure!" S.G. looks at me. "Can I?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    Carter steps off of the one he''s on, and S.G. steps up onto it. Then he asks me to explain how to ride it again so I do, and we ride around for a bit. He''s not as good as Carter at it but he still adjusts pretty fast. He also doesn''t wobble at all after the first minute, which is really cool.

    When we ride back to the others once he''s done, I look at Mr. Trey.

    "Do you want to try?"

    "No," Mr. Trey answers, and he''s being honest. "That looks a little too dangerous for me."

    He doesn''t want me riding it?

    "But you boys look like you''re having fun," he says. "You look like you''re enjoying yourself when you ride it."

    "I am," I nod. "It feels like what I think it''s like for a dragon to glide."

    "You said," he chuckles.

    "Hey, Xander!" Carter says, and I look over to him. "How fast can the boards go?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think. "So I looked online for how fast people ride bikes and adjusted its maximum speed on that. Based on what I saw, teens usually ride at a little less than ten miles per hour, but it''s possible to go faster, so I put the limit at fifteen instead. I haven''t tested the faster side of that yet but it should be fine. I''m not sturdy enough for that, so I was going to wait until Greyson returned in a couple of weeks and ask him."

    "Who''s Greyson?" Carter asks.

    "One of my second-cousins," I answer. "His body''s very tough, and I''m pretty sure he''s used to me test things out over the last few years, so it''s only fair for him to test this for me. And based on his reaction to the early stages of my AR game, he''d probably just want to ride it for fun. Maybe get mad at the lower speed, too¡­"

    And then try to change the limiter, but I made sure I didn''t just obfuscate it so no one can criticize how bad the work is, I extra-obfuscated it to make sure Greyson can''t read the enchantment matrices and adjust them to boost their speed.

    "I''m pretty tough, too!" Carter tells me. "Have a lot of mana thanks to growing up on a magic beast ranch, so my body''s pretty tough as well. Mind if I push it to the limit? Or maybe not, that might break the boards and I don''t think I can afford to pay for it if I do¡­"

    "The boards can handle high impacts," I say. "But they also have magics to keep them from crashing into other objects, and their parts are made of really durable things and stabilized so that impacts won''t jostle them or anything. So crashes aren''t a problem."

    "Oh! That''s cool!" He exclaims. "So it''s okay for me to try, then?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "But, um¡­ you might get hurt."

    "Nah!" He says. "I''ve been hit by a car before and only had some minor bumps and bruises! My body really is pretty tough!"

    I have way more mana but my body isn''t tough. Maybe it''s just another sign of me being broken? I should ask Grandpa Adrian next time I talk to him. He came over earlier after I texted him, so I don''t want to ask him another question too soon after in case it bothers him.

    "Um¡­" I look at his dad.

    "Carter can wrestle bulls to the ground and suffer no injuries," Mr. Martins tells me. "So it''s safe enough if fifteen miles an hour is the top speed it can go."

    "Okay," I guess it''s fine then. "You can try, Carter. Just¡­ please be careful?"

    "No worries about that!" He thumps his chest. "Ain''t nothing gonna hurt me! Chat, I''m gonna see what its top speed is like!" He steps back up onto the other hoverboard. "Ready? Three! Two! One! GOOOOO!"

    As he yells that last word, he glides forward, quickly picking up speed. Soon, he''s out of sight, but he soon returns while letting out happy shouts.

    "That was so cool!" He exclaims. "Thanks for letting me ride this, Xander!"

    "You''re welcome."

    I feel all light and fluffy inside, and I think it''s because he enjoyed it. That means I can make more than just puzzle spheres which people like playing with. S.G. definitely seemed like he was having fun, too.

    "Did you want to give it a try?" I ask Tate again.

    "No," he shakes his head, but he''s still lying. "Want to keep my feet firmly on the ground."

    Why is he lying about what he wants to do?

    "Okay¡­"

    "It does look fun, though," he adds. "It''s so cool that you were able to build them."

    "I know you have to have lights on your bike at night," Carter says. "Is there a way to fix lights onto them for that, for night riding? It might not be safe otherwise."

    "It has lights already," I tell him. "You just can''t see them unless they''re on. It''s magitech lights with a mixture of the material and enchantments. I can turn them on if you want to see, though."

    "Can I?" Carter asks.

    "Okay," I tap with my fingers, and the lights on the sides, front, back, and bottom of my hoverboard turn on. "There we go."

    "That''s so cool!" Carter exclaims. "You made them white so they''re like car lights, right? Oh, but can you do turn signals? I know bikes are supposed to have those, too."

    "Yeah," I tap with my fingers again, and the left turn single turns on. I turn it off, then turn on the right turn signal, then turn on the brakes for a few moments before turning them off. "That''s all of them."

    "That''s really neat!" Carter tells me. "Can you change the light colors?"

    "Um¡­ I only did the white for most and red for brakes since that''s what car and bike lights are," I say. "I don''t know if having them change colors would be legal¡­ once laws regarding hoverbike usage are out. But they''ll probably be under the same or similar rules as bikes. That''s what Mr. Trey and my grandpa told me earlier."

    That''s why I changed the lights to white with red for the brakes.

    "Not for riding at night," he says. "Or in low light. But like, if it''s a little bit dim and lights aren''t needed yet, or during the day, you could do colored lights just for an added cool look! And you could maybe have colored lights to go with the illumination and brake lights for night, too! Them being on the bottom of the board instead of the front wouldn''t mess with that!"

    "Oh."

    That¡­ was something I didn''t think about. Maybe that would look cool.

    "Also," he says. "How were you changing the lights? Does mind magic work for connecting to it, too? Or can they be set to read your intentions and shift?"

    "It''s the gloves," I hold my hands up. "They were just regular skater gloves, I think, but I modified them with a little bit of magitech. It''s super small so you can''t see it that well, but there''s a little bit of a shimmer on them if the light hits it right and isn''t too bright. If you move your fingers in the right way while wearing them and while on a board, and you have the intent to turn on the lights, they''ll read that intent and transmit it to the board, turning on the right lights. I wanted to incorporate actual mind magics into it for easier use, but my grandpa said I shouldn''t."

    That was why Grandpa Adrian came over earlier ¨C because I''d sent him a text asking if it was okay to do that. Mr. Trey wasn''t sure and I figured my grandpa would know. He said that while it''s technically not illegal, it might make people uncomfortable and it''s a better idea to not for early demonstrations of the hoverboards.

    "That''s still really cool," Carter tells me. "So does that mean you can make the board move using the gloves, too?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "You have to move your fingers right while wanting to. And these ones are the only ones and they''re paired to my hoverboard, so they won''t work for that one."

    I did that specifically so that I don''t have to share my gloves with someone else.

    "Cool," he says. "This was pretty fun, Xander! I''m gonna end my stream now. Wanna say anything to my chatters? Oh! Tate, Dad! Are we still on the chest cams?"

    "Lemme switch back to the phone," Tate says, then holds up Carter''s phone. "Okay, we''re back on the phone cam!"

    "Um¡­ Mr. Trey?" I ask Mr. Trey, who holds his phone up as well.

    "Just switched back to the phone camera," he says.

    "Okay."

    "Alright!" Carter says. "So that was us getting to ride hoverboards, everyone! And if you came in partway through ¨C they were created by this awesome dude, Xander! Check out his channel, XTK9, too! This is his first stream so there''s not much else to it yet, but you can see his perspective for the rides, too!

    "So we''ve got hoverboards," Carter says. "We''ve got gloves you can use to control them and their lights if you want, and we''ve got awesomeness! And that dude right there? That''s S.G.! You might''ve seen him briefly in my last video and he got to try the hoverobard today, too! He''s the one who introduced me to Xander! S.G. and I have been friends for years now, and he and Xander are friends, so when I asked if he knew the boy on the hoverboard, he was able to connect us!"

    We''re connected? I don''t see anything connecting us, though.

    "Before we go," Carter looks at me. "Xander! Want to tell Chad again what inspired you to build the hoverboards?"

    "Who''s Chad?" I look around. "Is there someone else here."

    "Chat!" Carter laughs. "With a T at the end! As in the chatters and viewers!"

    "Oh," my face heats up. Stupid me and mishearing things. "Um¡­ I did it so I don''t have to learn how to ride a bike but can stay with my friends when we''re going places and they''re on their bikes. So they don''t have to walk their bikes and take longer."

    "What about a skateboard?" Carter asks. "That would work, wouldn''t it?"

    "Skateboard wheels can break off."

    That causes the other boys to laugh, while Mr. Rachel and Mr. Martins look like they''re trying not to. Mr. Trey is definitely trying not to laugh.

    "What about roller blades?" Carter asks.

    "They have wheels, too."

    That makes him giggle a little.

    "Alright!" He says. "Thanks for letting me give it a try, Xander!"

    "You''re welcome," I say. "Thank you for enjoying it."

    "Of course I did!" He says. "It''s pretty awesome, man! Is there anything you wanna say to chat before we go?"

    "Bye," I say.

    "See you all next time!" Carter waves. "Byyyyyyye!"

    "And done!" Tate says. "Stream''s over!"

    "Same here," Mr. Trey says. "I think?"

    "Can I see?" Tate looks. "Yeah, you ended it!"

    "Whew!" Carter grins at me. "That was super fun, Xander! Can I come back over and ride it again sometime?"

    "You want to ride it again?" I ask.

    "Of course!" He bounces a little as he nods. "It was super fun! Man, there''s no way I can afford to have you build one for me right now, it''s gotta be ridiculously expensive. But I wanna ride it again sometime."

    He''s being honest with that.

    "If-if that''s okay," I look at Mr. Trey.

    "It''s your board," he tells me. "If you''re okay with that, then I don''t mind."

    "Okay," I nod, then look at Carter. "Maybe again. And. Um. I think the cost for a hoverboard would be around $150,000, but I''m not really sure. My math might be off. Possibly by a lot."

    "Yeah," he chuckles. "That''s out of reach for me right now."

    "Did you not want to ride it while the streams were going?" I ask Tate.

    "What?" He looks confused.

    Maybe I changed topics too fast?

    "You were lying when you said you didn''t want to ride it," I say. "Did you just not want to do it while others were watching, in case you fall off? It''s really safe and won''t make you fall. I tested it really lots yesterday and today."

    "What makes you think I was lying?" He asks.

    "I can tell when people are lying if I''m looking in their eyes."

    "Seriously?" S.G. asks. "You can do that?"

    "I didn''t tell you?" I ask. "I thought I did. Oh. Yeah. Um¡­ sorry for not telling you."

    "It''s cool!" S.G. says. "That sounds like a cool power!"

    "Um," Tate looks at Mr. Trey, then looks at me. "After you and Carter went off, your dad told me that you''d probably offer to be nice, but that letting one person you don''t know use your stuff was probably making you uncomfortable and that two would definitely stress you out, so would I please decline."

    Mr. Trey really told him that? That''s so nice of him.

    "Thanks," I say. "He''s not wrong."

    "And now that this is done," Mr. Martins claps his hands once, and we all look at him. "How would you boys like to do some grilling? It''s nearing dinnertime now, and I brought food just in case we got to do this."

    That must be what he wants to offer as payment for me letting Carter ride on the hoverboard and do a stream with it.

    I hope it''s delicious.

 Chapter 0063

    [Luke ¨C 13 years] ¡ú takes place during Chapter 62

    Even after a few hours of thinking on it, I can''t figure out what Adrian King meant. The law of magical amplification is affected by the same thing causing the sparks in my mana and the increase in my hyper levels the more mana I have. I''ve run through everything I know of which interacts with the law of magical amplification, whether as something affected by it or something which affects it.

    It really sucks there''s no one else around I could bounce ideas off of. Well, I could probably bounce them with my parents, but I don''t know. Something in me says I should ask Tyler, but I can''t right now. He''s not here and his phone has no service from wherever he and his dad are hunting beasts. Maybe it''s just because he''s my age and my parents aren''t?

    We even debated something relating to the law of magical amplification back when we first met. That wasn''t a confirmed interaction, just something we were-

    Wait.

    Nabdioak''s theory of intertwined magics, the idea that magic can be charged with an aspect instead of just being tuned to it. It''s never been proven before, hence it just being a theory. However, didn''t Tyler and I discuss how if it''s real, it had the potential to amplify magic even more?

    Magical amplification is the act of structuring magic in such a way as to make it more efficient, therefore amplifying its strength. That''s what basically all spells and enchantments are ¨C magic structured for efficiency.

    If my mana is actually charged with lightning somehow, that would actually greatly explain my ability with lightning magics being so great compared to my parents''. However, the idea behind Nabdioak''s theory is that when magic is actually charged with it rather than containing it or being attuned to it, it''s also cheaper to cast and more powerful in the result.

    Hm¡­ maybe my "charging" isn''t complete and that''s why the sparks are actually there?

    I inhale deeply and do my best to sense my mana on a level I''ve never managed before. To feel not just the mana itself, but the lightning aspect of it and the lightning within it. The dense, mist-like force spread throughout my body, an energy which bends to my will and dances across my skin as I cast.

    The sparks within it and how they dance and shift. How they stem from the lightning within it, not fully a part of it. Only partially. It''s as if the process began but didn''t complete and did I just begin to actually sense my mana on a deeper level?

    I almost lose my focus upon the realization but quickly return to looking deep within. It''s definitely as if my mana had taken in some lightning and started to merge it into itself. Or maybe that I had? There are traces there. Faint, but there¡­ if I just do this a little¡­ yeah, the lightning is merging into the mana properly. And now, it''s spread throughout it.

    The moment the process completes and my mana is properly infused with mana, I can feel a sudden and noticeable shift in my very being. A calmness of the sort I''ve never known when I''m this full of mana fills me. Sparks continue to dance within my mana, but they no longer manifest the same. They are my mana now rather than drawn from lightning within it.

    As for my mana¡­ it''s now lightning itself, in a sense.

    I open my hands and examine my right hand, then conjure an orb of lightning above it. The orb is only 3" in diameter and sparks lightly, yet it cost only a tenth of what it normally does to make one of the same strength. The casting speed was even faster than normal for me.

    Over my left palm, I manifest a 3" orb of mana. What forms is a 3" sphere of golden-white mana with sparks flowing through it. Now I''m not just attuned to the power of lightning, I am the power of lightning.

    I dismiss the orb over my right palm and summon another 3" sphere of mana. This time, I focus on removing the lightning aspect from it. It''s more difficult than normal to convert my mana, but I succeed in the end, returning it to an orb of ordinary, blue mana.

    As I stare at the two orbs floating above my palms, several thoughts float through my head. First, I can really understand why Adrian King wanted to slow down Earth''s progress and keep it relatively level instead of having several individual true powerhouses running around.

    I just sensed lightning in my mana for the first time and turned a theory into a law. Now, my power is ten times as great as it was when I woke up this morning. If the world has several random people with this sort of ability or greatness in their own ways, or they''re even more powerful than me, they could essentially become tyrants.

    While I''m sure Adrian King is monitoring things on his own to reduce that for those of us who slipped through, it''s better for the world to gradually adjust to greater levels of power. That will prevent tyrants from forming and reduced the need for specialized task forces to deal with such cases.

    My sense for electricity has grown even greater again. I know that mages with bloodlines often have extra senses in them, and that they strengthen usually around the age of thirteen or fourteen, but this¡­ I can sense the electricity in the guards at Xander''s place if I focus on it just a little bit.

    That''ll take some adjusting to.

    I look over to my parents, who are both sitting against one wall of the training room, watching me from behind and to the side.

    "Mind telling us what happened?" Mom asks. "I came in here to let you know lunch was ready, and you were deep in meditation. We couldn''t rouse you at all."

    "And when you finally came out," Dad says. "It''s now dinnertime and you were able to summon an orb of lightning mana above your palm. Not just lightning-attuned mana but actual lightning mana."

    I was messing with my mana for over six hours? Maybe seven or more?

    "That''s¡­ my mana now," I look down at the two orbs. "Before he brought me back here, Adrian King gave me a hint about why I get so hyper when my mana is full and I was right, it''s related to the sparks Xander sees in my mana. Nabdioak''s law of intertwined magic was messing with me as the charge within my mana wasn''t completed. One of the times I ate magical lightning with actual lightning mana, I must have started to convert my own mana into it. Not sure when that happened, though¡­"

    I don''t remember ever eating that sort of magical lightning before. Always felt it was dangerous even with my ability to eat lightning and magic lightning.

    Though Mom and Dad seem to know as they look at each other.

    "Know how we like watching thunderstorms?" Dad asks. "Especially ones with a lot of lightning?"

    "Of course," I answer. "They''re pretty fun to watch."

    "The first summer camping trip you went on," he says. "A little before you turned one, there was a lightning storm at the location. There was a lot of lightning magic in the storm and a bolt came at us. Not normally a problem and we knew it wouldn''t be for you. You¡­ ate it. There didn''t seem to be any adverse effects and the doctors we took you to confirmed you were fine, but that must be when it happened."

    In other words, I was so good at magic when I was a baby that I was able to learn how to convert my mana pool itself into a different type of mana.

    No wonder Adrian King is keeping an eye on me.

    "Damn, I''m badass!"

    "Lucas!" Mom exclaims. "No swearing!"

    "I''ve gotta tell Parker about what happened!" I tell them as my body becomes charged with lightning ¨C though not a spark affects my clothes. "I feel so much calmer now, I don''t think I''ll go on babblefests anymore!"

    "Isn''t Parker mad at you?" Dad asks.

    "He can get over himself," I say. "This is more important! Bye!"

    I leave at top speed and head over to Parker''s, the guards reluctantly allowing me in. They probably don''t want to because Parker probably told them not to, but they do anyway. Once I''m in his family''s mansion, I bolt to the theater room, where I can feel his electricity.

    He''s wearing just a pair of brown-and-orange shorts and is eating a giant bowl of popcorn covered in chocolate sauce and sprinkles, a cup of soda in the right-hand armrest of his seat. The bowl looks half-empty and he''s got chocolate all over his fingers and lips, and he gives me an annoyed look at interrupting his sulking watch of whatever he''s got up on the screen. I''m not looking there.

    "Parker!" I give him two thumbs-up. "Looking good! So I know you''re being a moody shit right now but you can get over yourself for, like, five seconds because something awesome happened! So Adrian King showed up at my home this morning to talk with me about something because I''m apparently ridiculously gifted and am part of some changes happening to the world and he wanted to let me know a better way to drain my mana when I want to, though I won''t need to use it anymore unless I actually want lightning mana crystals. Oh! Yeah! It''s a device which produces mana crystals just by putting your mana into it! There''s only a ten percent loss rate so it''s super efficient!

    "Anyway, before he left, I asked if he had any ideas on why I get more hyper and babbly the more mana I have and he didn''t actually tell me, but he did give me a big hint. All he told me was that the law of magical amplification was affected by it. That doesn''t make sense on its own so I was thinking of everything known to interact with it, but see? That was the wrong line of thought! As it turns out, I had to think of stuff which isn''t known to interact with it! Specifically, stuff which wasn''t even proven!

    "As it turns out, it''s Nabdioak''s law of intertwined magics, not theory! And it''s directly related to why I have sparks in my mana! They''re still there, but once I realized what it was, I was able to look into my mana in a way which let me sense the problem and fix it! So now instead of my mana only being incompletely charged with lightning, it''s now lightning-charged! So I guess it''s really just lightning mana now, but I can convert back to normal mana when I cast stuff if I want to cast something that''s not lightning magic. Now I feel infinitely calmer, like I''ve achieved transcendence and become enlightened, so I won''t be as babbly or hyperactive anymore.

    "Also," I say. "It really does cheapen my mana costs immensely! At least, for lightning magics. And my control over my lightning has gotten so much better, too, just from that! Look ¨C there''s no damage to my clothes from being lightning-charged! And I can move even faster while lightning-charged now, too! It took me, like, thirty seconds to get from the training room in my house to the gate out front of yours!

    "Is that popcorn good?" I ask. He''s been taking bites as I speak, just staring at me as he munches on it. "Did you make the chocolate and sprinkles yourself? Can I have some? I love the chocolate sauce you make! Oh, and I''m almost out of the last thing of it you made me, too! Well, actually, I''m completely out. I overate on ice cream last night. This is also such a big thing for me, too, so I wanna do more ice cream to celebrate! But I apparently haven''t had lunch yet and it''s now dinnertime. Man, focusing on fixing my mana took a lot of time! And I actually feel kind of wiped, too. It''s apparently exhausting. Hey, whatcha watching? Can I join you? You like watching athletic streamers, right? Anything cool on right now? I prefer the magic streamers and the gamers, myself, but some of the athletic ones you watch seem pretty cool."

    I stare at him, waiting for a response. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth just as I finished speaking, and he chews it slowly while keeping his gaze fixed on me.

    "Not going to be a babbler anymore, huh?" He asks after swallowing.

    "Nope!" I answer as I turn off my lightning-charged state. "Now that my mana''s fixed up, it shouldn''t affect my hyper levels anymore! That''s the idea, anyway!"

    Parker snorts and rolls his eyes, then points at the seat beside him.

    "Cool!" I quickly slip off my sneakers, then rush over and sit beside him before grabbing a handful of popcorn. "So what were you watching?"

    "Xander was streaming."

    "Xander was streaming?" I ask. "Okay, now I know you''re messing with me. Xander doesn''t have the confidence for that. He''s more confident in some of his abilities but putting himself out there and showing off whatever he''d show off¡­ yeah, nah. Plus, he''s not athletic and doesn''t use magic, so¡­ what would he even stream?"

    "It''s more popular in other countries," Parker says. "But video games are something people stream, too."

    Xander plays games? I thought he didn''t, that''s why I didn''t include that.

    "And other stuff people stream in all countries," he adds. "Can be crafts, cooking, baking, or whatever."

    "Ooh!" I say. "So he was baking on stream? How''d Trey convince him to do that?"

    "Nah," Parker snorts. "Xander was streaming him riding on his hoverboard and teaching another streamer how to ride it. There''s a new streamer/uploader from over in Autumn Hills named Carter. He does a lot of athletic stuff but also some magic. He went live while I was watching something else and when he went live, Xander was with him."

    "Xander knows a streamer?"

    "Uh¡­ no," Parker says. "Carter knows S.G., who''s friends with Xander. He asked S.G. if he knew the kid with the hoverboard from the article someone made yesterday, then I guess came over today and asked about getting to ride it. Xander seemed really uncomfortable for the whole stream, but¡­ he built a hoverboard, Luke. Xander built a freaking hoverboard!"

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "I know!" I exclaim. "I asked him about it yesterday! Well, I texted him to let him know about the article and he was upset someone recorded him without asking. He''s got some mad skills! Do you think he''d let me give it a ride?"

    "Probably not," Parker licks his fingers clean, then wipes them on a napkin. "He was pretty clearly uncomfortable and just let someone he doesn''t know ride it. Considering how he views you¡­ he''ll probably try to find a way to change the subject if you ask."

    As upset as that makes me, I know it''s true, too. Xander really doesn''t like me. At least Parker''s talking to me again!

    Well, he didn''t really have a choice since I did just barge into his home, but he doesn''t seem upset anymore, just exasperated for some reason.

    "Here," he says after navigating something on his control tablet. "The VOD from the stream. It ended a little bit ago, but I didn''t want to clean my fingers off so I could pull up something else¡­"

    I shove my face into the bowl to take a big bite.

    "Luuuke!" He tries to act mad but he''s laughing. "Watch the video!"

    The video starts and has some kid who''s probably the Carter that Parker mentioned standing beside Xander. Xander''s all dressed up in jeans and a green long-sleeved shirt, a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, and gloves. And his sneakers, of course.

    "Oh, my goodness!" I exclaim. "Look at him, Parker! He''s all geared up for it and he looks so cute and oh, my goodness! Hey, Parker, do you-"

    Parker shoves popcorn into my mouth.

    "Less talking, more watching."

    The flights that Xander and Carter do are pretty amazing and while Xander seems nervous, it''s pretty clear to me that it''s the showing this to others and being on camera that''s making him so. How much he relaxes once he really gets into it makes it evident that he feels so at home on the hoverboards, too. And that look of joy on his face as he glides around on it¡­ well, it''s not so obvious to others, probably, at least according to Parker.

    I guess Xander just has slight facial expressions. They''re obvious to me, though.

    "Dude," I look at Parker when the video ends. "Think he''d build me one if I asked? I''ve got two hundred K. I mean, that''s probably many times my daily allowance but my parents''ll lift it for a day if I ask and I do have the funds from all my work. Heck, two hundred grand is what I got paid for a generator I built critical parts for last month and the board will probably cost less than that. Well, I did more than that for it, but the higher pay was mostly for that. And when you add on the interest that accrues on everything I earn and it''s a fat wallet, I could even buy you one, if you want! Do you want a hoverboard? Do you think Xander''ll build us both ones if I ask? ParkerParkerParker, come on! Answer me! Do you think he will?"

    Parker flicks me on the nose with a finger covered in chocolate sauce.

    "Wh-hey!"

    "You''re totally not hyperactive and babbling like a monster anymore," he tells me. "Definitely not."

    "See?" I grin. "I told you I was a lot calmer now! So what do you think? Think he''ll build them if I ask?"

    <hr>

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    "So?" Dad asks after we finish eating dinner in the academy''s cafeteria. "What did you think? Does the academy seem fun?"

    For the afternoon part of the tour, I got to play with more of the facilities, such as the athletic and magic training areas. Now, we''re eating with Cody and his dad in the dining hall, and even their dinner food is good.

    We''re not the only ones eating in here. Students coming in for testing over the next two weeks are encouraged to stay at the academy for it to make it easier to arrive on time for the tests. There are about sixty of us in total and nearly all of them are here and have already been given room assignments and are eating here now to give the cafeteria food a try. Some of them still have their parents present, too, so it''s not just Cody and me with a parent eating with us.

    Some of the kids would be seniors in high school this year, but most of the kids are as young as me or even younger ¨C the academy starts at kindergarten age. However gifted children are found, it seems to be relatively easy to find them by the fifth grade at the latest.

    There will probably be more who start during the school year, but this is most of the ones who''ll be starting as fresh students. I''m the oldest Lumarikang here, but not the only one. There are three five-year-old Lumarikangs eating dinner right now, so I guess the gifted ones within my great-grandfather''s awareness start school here.

    "Yeah!" I nod. "They have so much magitech that I don''t have or which is better than mine. I''ve already texted Grandfather Adrian a list of things I''d like to have delivered to the secret base so I can take them apart and see how they work so I can improve me own. He did respond, too."

    "What did he say?" Dad''s amused by that.

    "That I need to follow the protocol outlined in the instructions on how to request resources rather than hacking his phone to ask him."

    Dad snorts at that.

    "Xander can text him random questions," I say. "I apparently can''t text him a legitimate one. Well, it makes sense. Xander''s a god so he gets special permissions."

    Dad seems to think it''s something else, but he doesn''t say.

    "Have you changed your mind and want to go here?" He asks.

    "No," I shake my head. "The anti-teleport wards are too stuffy, this place is evil. But it was nice to get to visit it as I now know of some pieces of magitech which I am lacking or inferior to. That should be corrected soon, if Grandfather Adrian delivers the machines and devices after I fill out the request form."

    "You don''t wanna come?" Cody asks. "But the academy''s so fun!"

    "I''m sure it is," I say. "But it has anti-teleport wards, and that makes it evil."

    "While Cody was giving you the initial tour," Dad tells me. "I spoke with them about the situation. You normally have to give up your phone for the first month as well, so that there''s no contact outside of here during the transition period. They''ll allow you to keep your phone on you outside of class time and during the sleep hours. You''ll also be permitted to leave the campus on weekends during the first month."

    "That''s not the same thing," I say. "If I cannot evacuate-hello, Grandfather Adrian."

    Grandfather Adrian appeared behind Cody, who''s sitting opposite of me and the moment he appeared, others who are eating in here quiet down and look over. He''s pretty famous, after all, and most people here have probably heard of him since he created the academy.

    "Hello, Greyson," Grandfather Adrian says. "I was listening in on the conversation. If you stay at the academy for the next two weeks, then I will also deliver to your workshop the items you requested in the text if you file the appropriate form, and also an additional mana battery of the previous rate. Furthermore, I will key you into the anti-teleport ward here after your first month as a student. The ward is older than your father and its primary purpose is to prevent unwelcome people from coming into the academy. It helping keep spatially-gifted students from sneaking out is a mere side benefit."

    I don''t want to stay here for even one night, but two weeks of it for all that stuff is really hard to pass up. The biggest benefit is definitely the second mana battery. But that would mean spending two whole weeks here without leaving a single time.

    "Maybe I can give it a try," I say. "But if something bad happens, I won''t hesitate to blow my way out."

    "Try walking out first," Grandfather Adrian tells me. "So it''s a deal?"

    "You have no idea what I could do with a second one of those crystals," I say. "The amount of stuff I could add to my project¡­ the benefit is worth the attempt. I cannot believe that Xander was holding back on me with that technology, though I do fully understand the reasons leading up to him not mentioning it to me. As there is great benefit from the battery, I will attempt to undergo the torture of staying here for two weeks. Permission to leave to retrieve my suitcase?"

    "You can get your suitcase," Grandfather Adrian snorts. "Be on your best behavior while here, Greyson. Or I''ll be sealing your magic for a month."

    Evil man!

    "Yes, sir!"

    Grandfather Adrian walks off to visit his other descendants, and Dad and I leave to grab my suitcase from the car. When we return, Cody''s at the front with his dad and a staff member.

    "They said you can room with me," Cody says. "If you want. Everyone has to have roommates for the two weeks of testing and since we''re getting along, they asked if I''d be willing to be yours. That means I get to see my new dorm room! Until the school year you''d be entering fifth grade, there are eight to a room. Then starting when you''d be entering fifth grade at a normal school, we get put into pairs."

    I don''t want a roommate, but I don''t think I can talk the staff into allowing this. Grandfather Adrian would have already arranged it if solo roommates were permitted.

    "I find you an acceptable person," I say. "However, I ask that you do not disturb me when I am attempting to sleep or focus."

    "Can do!" Cody says.

    We''ll see.

    I''m asked to channel some of my mana into something so that they can key me into the room. It''s a device which records my mana signature, which is unique to each person, and the dorm room key requires channeling my mana into it.

    As great at magic as I am, even I cannot imitate another person''s mana signature. In other words, it''s a very secure way of locking things¡­ even if the walls might be weak enough to just blast through.

    "Will it be individual or communal bathrooms?" Dad asks the staff member as we make our way to the boys'' dorm hall, which I wasn''t shown before.

    "Communal," the staff member answers. "The floors of the dorm hall are split into sections, and each section has its own toilet room and separate showers with attached changing rooms. Stalls in the former, not in the latter. An accommodation can be made if necessary when taking into consideration his disability, but you didn''t mention that when it came to the paperwork for the school year."

    "The middle school I was to start this year has communal showers," I say. "While I do find such things strange, I do not mind them and have accepted they are a standard part of school experience. Additionally, it is likely there are times in which there are fewer students in there so if I start feeling shy for whatever reason, I can simply use them during those times."

    "Greyson doesn''t have shyness or modesty problems," Dad tells the staff member. "Greyson, since there are only showers involved, that means you can''t do your meditation baths."

    "While unfortunate, they are not essential to my routine."

    "You do them two or three times a week."

    A fair point. The meditation baths are important to my routine and disrupting my routine is Never Good. The last time I tried not doing the meditation baths for a week, I became too stressed and eventually gave in and did them. It ruins my day and I struggle to focus and think.

    Even attending the testing will do that a little to me, but at least I can focus on the tests and not be bothered too much. My scores will probably be a little bit lower in some of the subjects from this, but I''m the smartest person here so that''s okay.

    "I will attempt to convince myself that it is okay."

    Dad looks at the staff member.

    "He might become irritable at having his routine disrupted," Dad tells him. "I know I mentioned it earlier, but just coming the to the testing is disrupting his summer routine and can do that. If he starts pacing around ¨C especially if he''s muttering ¨C it''s better to let him go until he calms down some. It can take a couple of hours sometimes, but he''ll usually return to whatever he was doing once he''s done."

    "We''ve had plenty of Autistic students," the staff member says. "We''re well-versed in how to handle many of the situations which arise, even if they students are unique. You allowing us to copy the pages from the binder is helpful as well, since it grants us more information about his situation. I know you said before that he only has Autism, but does he have anything else?"

    "An ego," Dad answers. "But not really anything else."

    "Arrogance is only if it''s an inflated sense of self-worth or abilities," I tell Cody. "It''s only ego and not arrogance if you can actually do what you claim. Considering I can teleport across the country with ease, manipulate gravity at will, and am knowledgeable in a wide variety of subjects, I actually am better than nearly everyone else in most ways. Though social situations elude me. I''m jealous of kids like you, who understand how to communicate more effectively and who can make friends. You''re like aliens to me. Do you think aliens exist? Outside of demons, I mean."

    "We did have him tested for ADHD before," Dad says. "But he doesn''t even meet a third of the requirements, and his display of them isn''t at two or more locations in the sense and amount of time needed. He focuses just fine when it matters. Any lack thereof can typically be boiled down to one of two situations: he''s deliberately allowing his mind to wander or he''s a ten-year-old boy reacting excitably to something."

    "Aliens probably exist," Cody tells me while Dad says that to the worker. "They''ve just decided not to attack Earth because they''re scared of your great-grandfather."

    "He''s definitely scary," I nod. "I wouldn''t be surprised if there were aliens who attempted to attack us, but Grandfather Adrian wiped them all out before they could even do anything. Or Xander. He probably whups their butts in his sleep."

    We arrive at the dorm hall after that, and it turns out to have a dining hall of its own on the first floor, along with a couple of lounges for students to hang out in. We''re taken up to the third floor, where the staff member shows us the showers and bathrooms for our floor section. There''s also a lounge for our floor section, and a poster with the rules for it is by the entrance. We''ll be allowed to use it as we wish during free time during the testing period.

    The staff member has to set the door locks for us once we''re at the dorm room, then Cody and I are allowed to enter.

    It''s not massive, but it''s not small, either. There''s a bed, a desk, and a dresser on either side, as well as two closets. Each side also has two bookshelves for us to store things on. The desks themselves have computers set up on them and based on how it reacts when I turn one on, they''re just as fast as the ones in the room with the fake test.

    "Greyson?" Dad says. "You didn''t even ask."

    "It''s clearly meant for us to use," I say. "Oh, neat! It''s got magitech programming tech! It''s so hard to find good ones for that, it''s actually easier to have one custom-built for you. Understandable, of course, since being able to manipulate magical runes directly via computer can be hard. Well, that''s only, like, a tenth of what you''re actually doing with magitech programming, and it''s way harder than scientech programming. At least that, you just type in words and stuff. And this is some sophisticated software, too, so you can do even more in-depth work on it. I normally have to build my own computers when I want something this deep. It has a full magitech runic library! Look, you can just move things around. One of the big things is figuring out the right combinations, locations, connections¡­ and that''s still less than a tenth of what goes into magitech programming. This can do all of it! That''s really neat. Cody, wanna see me program a game that lets you be a fish that eats sharks?"

    "You mean a shark that eats fish?"

    "That is so pre-aught," I say. "We weren''t even born when people were making things so common and basic. Branch out! Do something different! Be free! You don''t mind sleeping on that side of the room, do you? I want this side, it''s more comfortable to me. Okay, great! So back to the game, it''s fun to program and I can do it in about ten minutes with how fast this computer is."

    "You didn''t let him answer about the room sides," Dad says.

    "Yeah, but it''s fine because this is my side now," I say. "Also, I''m gonna show him me programming a game where you''re a fish that eats sharks! You can go now! Bye, Dad! I love you! Okay Cody, now that the adults are leaving, what you wanna do for the game is¡­"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "That did look super fun," Russell says.

    We''re on a phone call right now, though I have him on speakerphone rather than holding the phone to my ear. He called me a few minutes ago and while I don''t know what he wanted to talk about yet, I''m pretty sure it''s not the hoverboard stream I did earlier. I mean, I did text him so he''d know I was going to stream and he watched it, but I''m pretty sure he''s only talking about it instead of what he called about because he''s nervous for some reason.

    It feels like something I would do if I got nervous about telling someone something or asking them something. At least, something I might do sometimes.

    "Yeah," I nod, even though he can''t see me. "It was really, really fun. But I was really uncomfortable because a lot of people were seeing it. But it was still fun! I''m actually kind of happy S.G. asked me about it."

    "He''s a pretty cool dude," Russell says.

    "He definitely is," I nod. "So what did you want to talk about? Is that okay to ask?"

    "Um¡­ yeah," he says. "So I told my parents about you when I got home from the park yesterday and that I really liked you and stuff¡­ and Dad told me that we''re moving at the end of the month. Not because of the dating, though. He found out on Monday that his work was transferring him again. They do it every year or two and I was hoping this would be the last move, but I guess not¡­"

    So we can''t date. I can''t see his eyes so I don''t know if he''s being honest or not, and he''s probably just lying after changing his mind.

    "But I do wanna still hang out with you before I move," he quickly says. "And I go to a youth group on Wednesdays. They''re a bunch of cool people who are fun to hang out with. Would you want to go there, too? It''s just a bunch of middle-school kids playing games or hanging out. I think you''d like hanging out there."

    A bunch of kids I don''t know, playing games. That doesn''t sound like a fun time but if Russell''s inviting me, then I do want to go. Just to hang out with him more even if he''s not going to date me. He''s nice as just a friend, too, I think.

    "I''ll have to ask Mr. Trey," I tell him. "And I don''t make any promises¡­ but I might go. Okay?"

    "Okay!" He sounds happy, but I''m not sure since it''s over the phone. "I hope he says yes! I''m gonna go now, I''ll talk to you later! Have a good night, Xander!"

    "Bye, Russell," I say.

    Russell ends the call and I pocket my phone. I don''t feel good for some reason, and I also want cheesecake. Will Mr. Trey let me have some even though I''m supposed to be getting ready for bed in a few minutes?

 Chapter 0064

    [Greyson ¨C 10 years]

    Cody remains asleep as I prepare for my morning workout. My workout clothes are a pair of brown shorts and a gold sleeveless shirt, plus special socks and a pair of sneakers. They''re comfortable and allow my body to breathe well.

    Ready to go, I exit the dorm room and the dorm hall itself, then do some stretches on the side of the path. I already checked and it''s okay for me to come out this early and do my morning exercises. Grandfather Adrian also adjusted the campus''s warding scheme so that I''m keyed into the teleportation ward.

    Good Grandfather Adrian. Now the ward isn''t as evil anymore, and I hope he keeps it that way.

    I start with a light jog around the campus, keeping it up for fifteen minutes. My ending destination is not far from the athletics hall, and I walk for a post-jog cool-down the rest of the distance. Upon my arrival, I dip my head to the staff member standing outside the door.

    He''s keeping an eye on everyone who shows up this early so that the staff in the actual open fitness rooms can make sure people are going where they''re allowed.

    Since it''s Monday, I go to the room intended for the body rather than weights and machines. Once inside, I perform a series of push-ups, pull-ups, planks, squats, lunges, and other exercises, then repeat. While I don''t use magic to accelerate my speed, I do use it to add some weight to myself so that I can get better results.

    Upon finishing, I leave the athletics hall and jog back to the dorm hall, then head inside and up to my room. Cody''s just waking up as I enter and he gives me a sleepy look.

    "Why are you all sweaty?" He asks.

    "I was working out," I tell him. "And now I''m gonna shower."

    That''s exactly what I do after retrieving some things, and fifteen minutes after talking to Cody, I''m clean, dried, and dressed in a fresh set of shorts and a sleeveless. Cody''s gotten ready for the day as well but still looks sleepy, and we eat breakfast in the dorm''s dining hall.

    They have a fresh waffle station and I get ten of the ones made with magic ingredients, plus a giant scoop of ice cream for each. This academy might have evil wards, but they know really how to treat a kid to breakfast.

    When the first test of the day begins, I start tapping away at the computer I''m assigned to. It''s a test on math and it starts with baby math. Simple addition, soon followed by simple subtraction. Then it adds in basic multiplication while increasing the values for addition and subtraction. The complexity of the problems continues to increase as the test progresses. Soon, I''m doing algebra and geometry, then calculus and trigonometry. Even a little bit of physics math gets added in eventually.

    They''re really trying to cover all fields, aren''t they? It''s not just those ones in the test but more, the program doing its best to find my limits. There''s still time left for today''s test session once it determines where I''m at in terms of math, so it switches over to social studies.

    What a leap. Why did it have to go to a boring subject, though? Magitech would''ve been a much more fun subject to switch to after dealing with all of that math.

    Well, at least it''s happening sooner rather than later. If the bad ones come early, that means the later tests will be in more fun subjects.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts early in Greyson''s PoV

    "-and then the turtle ate the frog and gave the other ones a very smug look because it proved it could do what it said," I finish telling Ms. Katie about that dream. "Which doesn''t make sense. The frogs could teleport, so how could a talking turtle with no other abilities eat one? Couldn''t they just teleport away?"

    "I''m not sure," Ms. Katie answers.

    "I''m not sure, either," I tell her. "It made no sense! I liked the dream with the dragon better."

    "Oh?" She looks over. "What happened in that one?"

    "It went fwooooosh!" I tell her. "Was flying through the sky just enjoying the feel of the wind over its body. And after flying for a bit, it went to a restaurant and got steaks! They looked so good, too, but they were huge! Sized for a dragon. If dragons were real, and they get steaks sized for them, just how big do you think the cattle would be? Um¡­ is it okay to ask you that?"

    "It is," she chuckles. "And I''d guess they''d be pretty big, for someone to make dragon-sized steaks from them."

    "Yeah," I nod. "Good morning, Mr. Trey."

    "You''re not even looking over here," Mr. Trey says as I turn around. "How did you know I was approaching?"

    "Your footsteps," I answer. "Are we expecting someone? Um¡­ can I ask that?"

    "We are, why?" He asks.

    "I dunno," I answer. "I just feel like someone''s on their way here."

    Mr. Trey''s phone pings, and he pulls it out.

    "They are," he says. "Security just let me know he''s at the gate, and you probably picked up on Katie fixing more food than normal."

    Now that he mentions it, she is making more food than she normally does. Enough for a second me, even.

    "Oh."

    Mr. Trey heads to the front door as I realize that he''s wearing a suit for some reason instead of his normal breakfast clothes. When he returns to the dining room, Grandpa Adrian is with him.

    "I''m in trouble for the stream yesterday, aren''t I?" I get off the stool.

    "Why would you be in trouble for that?" Grandpa Adrian asks.

    "Because you showed up in time for breakfast," I say.

    "I''m here partially because of the stream," he says. "But you''re not in trouble. You made it sound as if you were okay with building them to sell to others."

    That''s what this is about? But if I''m not in trouble¡­ or maybe I am and he''s using his power to fool my ability to tell when someone''s lying.

    "Would you mind explaining that to me?" He asks.

    "No."

    We stare at each other for a few moments.

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Grandpa Adrian?"

    "I was asking if you would."

    "Oh," my face heats up. I should''ve known that but I''m too stupid. "Well¡­ the stuff with Luke last Monday made me realize that I do have some talents. And then S.G. liking the puzzle spheres made me realize that I can make stuff that other people like. So I was thinking that maybe, if it''s okay with you and Mr. Trey, I could maybe make stuff to sell? Like the puzzle spheres. And maybe the hoverboards, too. And-and it would let me earn money, too. That would help make up for the cost of the materials I use at Greyson''s workshop, if it does kind of okay. I think. And if I''m not the only one with a hoverboard, it won''t stand out as much, too."

    Mr. Trey snorts a little as Grandpa Adrian examines me for a few moments.

    "The reason you wanted the puzzle spheres to be under $50 in parts and labor is because you wanted to sell them?" Grandpa Adrian asks.

    "Yeah."

    "You don''t quite know enough about how that works to set prices," he says. "There''s more to it than parts and labor, and labor cost itself can be higher than minimum wage depending on what it''s for. If you can get one where the materials cost is under $5, under $10, or between $80 and $120, I can have them produced on a larger scale and sold in stores for $10, $20, and $100 to $150. The first two would be more likely to be purchased by normal families, while the higher price point would be more attractive to mages. If you''re able to make one where the material costs fit into that, I can have them produced in workshops under my control ¨C where your secret techniques won''t be shared.

    "In fact," he continues. "That is something your father and I discussed yesterday."

    Mr. Trey is only my foster-dad, but it''s Very Bad to correct adults, especially one as powerful and important and my great-grandpa.

    "I set up another company," Grandpa Adrian informs me as a small box appears in his hands. "Xanson Technologies. I had a feeling you were going to want to sell things and set it up so you don''t have to do as much work. You can invent something, and the company will produce and sell it for you, and you''ll earn money for each item sold based on its sale price."

    "Since you''re a minor," Mr. Trey says. "And under my care, I''ll be handling a lot of the stuff directly relating to you. Your grandfather set it up as he''s better-equipped to handle magitech production and other matters relating to the company."

    "We were originally going to tell you in a few days," Grandpa Adrian says. "After your father''s lawyers have gotten to look at the contracts for it, but the stream last night accelerated things a little on my end. This box contains business cards you can give to people if they ask you to make something you''re selling through Xanson Technologies. Purchases will have to go through it, anyway, so you''d need them to contact even if you agree."

    I open up the box and find a bunch of business cards in it, just as he said. They''re all identical and have a little bit of magic in them for some reason. Strengthening magic, I think?

    "Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You can ask him whatever is you''re wanting to ask about the company. You have that look that says you''ve got a question each time he said its name and again when you looked at the cards."

    "I have lots of questions," I say. "But the one I want to ask is how come it uses the first syllable in my name and the last in Greyson''s?"

    Mr. Trey looks surprised. Did he think I wouldn''t notice? Or maybe he didn''t notice for some reason, even though he''s an adult.

    "Because I''m going to do the same with Greyson," Grandpa Adrian informs me. "Can you keep a secret from Greyson?"

    "I can try," I say. "He usually doesn''t push if I say I don''t want to say or am not allowed to say, though."

    "Alright," Grandpa Adrian chuckles. "Greyson likes making magitech, too. Particularly computers. Those can be sold as well if he''s willing to give up the designs for them, and since the two of you share a workshop and probably work together on some things, I figured it''s better to make the company for products from both of you."

    That''s probably really smart, though I don''t see what the secret is.

    "Oh."

    I close the box and hold it in my left hand while focusing a little. My backpack appears in my right hand, and I put the box inside, then pull out a puzzle sphere.

    "So I made this one when trying to make a cheaper model," I show it to Grandpa Adrian. "Well, cheaper from my original one. I had no idea that the part I made to detect the location of Errai was worth so much. This one costs about $103 in materials, if I did the math right."

    I put the sphere down on the dining room table, then pull out another.

    "And if my math is right," I say. "Then this one is about $4 in materials cost," I set it on the table and pull out another. "And this one is about $10," I set it down and pull out another. "And I know you didn''t list it, but this one costs about $18 in materials, so it''s just-under $20. I didn''t like leaving them incomplete so I did final tweaks on them already. Oh, but I obfuscated the enchantments¡­ I''m not sure how good my work is so they probably need more tweaks by a professional. I can undo the obfuscation, but, um¡­ can they be nice when they tell me what I did wrong? Is that-is that okay to ask?"

    "I''ll be the one doing the checks," Grandpa Adrian tells me. "And if there''s something wrong with your work, I won''t be rude when I let you know how to do it better. That''s just common courtesy."

    "O-oh."

    "Are you okay with me taking those?" Grandpa Adrian asks. "I can see through the obfuscations so you don''t need to undo them."

    Of course he can do that. If I can do it, then so can an ancient mage of far superior ability.

    "Y-yeah," I nod.

    Grandpa Adrian gestures at the puzzle spheres and they vanish, then Ms. Katie serves breakfast for all of us. My great-grandpa sits on the end of the table beside me, opposite from Mr. Trey. There isn''t really much conversation while we eat breakfast, which feels awkward to me, but I don''t know what to say or if talking when the adults haven''t given me permission is allowed.

    Then Grandpa Adrian leaves and I get ready for my classes. I''m ready early enough that I can change the horrible drawing on the board, so I do that. This time, I try drawing a turtle with a dog riding on its back. A big dog.

    Mr. Trey tells me I should draw on the board from time to time, but he didn''t say why and I''m too scared to ask. I''m horrible at it, and it makes me nervous that someone''s going to get mad at me, but it also feels kind of fun¡­ when it doesn''t look too bad.

    I sit on the green beanbag chair I normally sit on, then wait for Luke and Parker to arrive, Luke carrying a duffel bag in addition to his backpack for some reason.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Luke''s mana looks different than it did the last time I saw him. It''s a lot calmer than before, the sparks not as crazy.

    "Morning, Xander!" Luke says. "I saw your stream last night! Well, the VOD of it! Can you build me a hoverboard? I can pay you for-what''s that?"

    "A business card," I answer. "Grandpa Adrian said to give one to anyone who wants to buy a hoverboard from me. They have to contact that company to order one."

    "You had that ready!" Parker laughs. "You were expecting him to ask, weren''t you?"

    "Yeah."

    "I can do that!" Luke pockets the card, then plops onto the beanbag chair he usually sits on as Parker sits as well. "I brought the stuff for the demonstration later."

    "For the building a robot?" I ask.

    "Yeah!" He nods. "I tried getting Parker to help me design it last night, but he kept telling me I was trying to make it too fancy."

    "No," Parker says. "You were trying to make it to flashy and ridiculous. Why would it need to be able to shoot lightning bullets from thirty different spots?"

    "To make its rapidfire even faster!"

    "And why would it need four arms?"

    "Two for swords and two for guns!"

    "And the rockets on the feet?"

    "Explosive jumps!"

    "Yeah," Parker rolls his eyes before looking at me again. "Without me stepping in, the design for the one he''s building this afternoon would be a bit wild and complex."

    "He wanted me to show him what I can do!" Luke says. "That''s why I''ve gotta throw in all of the stuff! And make it cool!"

    They bicker for a couple of minutes, all the way until the lesson starts. When it''s time for the swimming lesson to start after that, I do my best to get in the water without Luke helping me¡­ and I manage it!

    Except I don''t jump in, I teleport in because I find that easier for me to brave through. Luke charges toward the pool and jumps in once I''ve stopped flailing, then my lesson begins.

    After it''s done and we''ve eaten lunch, Luke asks where a good spot to build a robot is.

    "This way," I tell him. "Mr. Trey got a room set up for a workshop over the weekend. It''s not got all of the protections and stuff, but it''s got tables."

    "Okay!" Luke says.

    We enter the room and he looks around it while Parker takes a seat at one of the tables. There really isn''t much in here, just a few tables with chairs, and some shelves against the walls. Some supplies are put in here as well, but Mr. Trey only bought basic materials to work with. He probably can''t afford too much for proper magitech, which is why it''s a good thing I''m going to make money now. He won''t need to afford too much for proper magitech since I''ll be able to buy the stuff on my own.

    Already can, a little bit. I''ll need to get permission if it''s over a certain amount a day but I have the money.

    Luke drops his backpack beside the door and sets his duffel bag on the table Parker sat at, then begins pulling things out of it. I think the bag has a spatial expansion enchantment on it, based on how much he''s pulling out.

    I sit across from Luke and watch as he starts building a robot, and he even tells me what each step he''s doing is and what the different parts and enchantments are for and do. It''s a very different way of doing it from Greyson''s, and also involves a lot fewer explosive aspects.

    "And there we go!" Luke says once he finishes. "A robot, all done! Here, watch!"

    He starts fiddling with the controller he built and has the robot move around, even makes it do a few martial arts moves. While he does have it use some of its lightning magic, that''s weak enough to not damage anything, and he doesn''t let it strike the tables or anything, so it really wouldn''t be a problem, anyway.

    "Do you wanna try?" Luke asks. "Show me what you can do?"

    "I''m bad at it," I tell him. "I''ve been trying to build a remote-controlled car for awhile but I''m not that great it."

    Luke gets a confused look on his face, then looks thoughtful. At least, I think that''s a thoughtful look.

    "You like dragons, right?" He asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Try building a robot dragon!" He pulls materials out of his duffel bag. "Maybe you''ll have better luck if you''re not making a vehicle!"

    I''m not really sure about that, but I start working on it. I pull my special laptop from Greyson out of my backpack so I can access the database for building remote-controlled stuff and robots and use that as well. After about two hours¡­ I have a robot dragon sitting in front of me and feel very, very confused.

    "But I''ve never manage to make a car before!" I say. "How could I do a dragon? That''s way more complicated!"

    "Did you want to build a car?" Luke asks.

    "Well, no, but aren''t they the simple ones?"

    "And there''s the problem!" Luke says. "The less interested someone is in doing something, the more they might struggle with it. I bet you were struggling with it just ''cause you didn''t really enjoy it. But you did want a robot dragon, so it was easier for you!"

    "I''m also very stupid," I tell him. "And that doesn''t make any sense to me."

    "Xander," he snorts. "Hoverboards are, like, a million times more complicated than a robot dragon. That''s why no one''s-wait. Xander?"

    "Yes, Luke?"

    "Can your dragon fly?"

    "Yeah."

    "Can I see?"

    I grab the controller and activate the dragon''s flight magics, then have it fly around the room. It''s an adapted form of the magitech used for my hoverboard, since I didn''t want to use the normal magitech used to make planes and helicopters fly. That seemed like a bit too much, especially since those are intended for much larger machines. The robot can do flips and spins and other tricks and I try to do that, except the dragon crashes face-first into a table, breaking it.

    "Fuck!" I hurry over to the table and pull the dragon off. "No, no, no, no, no!"

    I push my free hand forward and use time magic on the table, undoing the damage. Mr. Trey is going to be so mad at me for breaking the table, especially since it''s new! It won''t matter that I fixed it, I fucked up and broke stuff!

    "Did you just use time magic on the table?" Luke asks.

    "Mr. Trey''s gonna be so mad at me!"

    "Mad at you for what?" Mr. Trey asks from the doorway.

    He''s back from work!

    "I''m sorry!" I wail. "I didn''t mean to break the table! It was an accident! I''m sorry! Please don''t beat me, I didn''t mean to do it! I''m trying to behave! I don''t wanna get sent back!"

    "Are you hurt?" Mr. Trey interrupts my pleading.

    "It was the table that got hurt and I''m sorry and I fixed it, I promise, please don''t beat me and-"

    "Are. You. Hurt?" His tone is scary.

    "N-no," my voice is very quiet, and I can only stare at my socks.

    This is bad. This is way too bad. I fucked up bad and broke something and I don''t even have the reason of my grip being poor. He''s going to beat me unconscious and then dump me outside so the boys'' home can come pick me up.

    "Good," he says. "How did you break the table?"

    "Luke asked if I could show him my robot dragon flying and I tried making it do a trick and it crashed into the table and I''m really sorry! I didn''t mean to break the table! Please don''t-"

    "Xander," Mr. Trey''s voice is still scary. "That''s the sort of toy which should be played with where there''s more space, such as outside. Especially if you made it able to breathe fire. Did you make it able to breathe fire?"

    "Y-yes."

    It''s a toy dragon, of course it can breathe fire. If it couldn''t, then it would just be a toy winged lizard. That''s nowhere near as cool.

    "Alright," he says. "Why don''t you go outside and play with it, then?"

    "W-what about my beating?"

    "Why would you get a beating?"

    "Because I broke the table."

    "Did you get hurt?"

    "No."

    "Have I ever beaten you?"

    "Not yet."

    "Not ever," he says. "A grounding is more appropriate as a punishment, if you ever deserve one. As long as you aren''t hurt and the damage wasn''t something serious, I don''t see a reason why you''d get into trouble, either. And it looks like you fixed the table, anyway, since I can''t see any damage."

    "I reversed its time."

    "You say that so casually," Parker comments, and Luke snorts.

    "Dinner will be in about an hour and a half," Mr. Trey says. "Luke, Parker, will you two be staying for it?"

    "Nope!" Luke answers. "I''m going to a dinner with my parents at six, so I gotta be home by five to get ready for it."

    "Alright," Mr. Trey says. "Clean up the mess in here, then head outside to play with your toys."

    "Y-yes, sir," I say.

    He''s really not beating me for breaking something? Or even something else? I misbehaved and I''m not even getting a small punishment for it. This is so confusing.

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    I get off my bike feeling very nervous. It''s my first magic lesson with Mr. Roger at his candy shop and I don''t know how it''s going to go. After hooking my bike up outside and pulling on a shirt, I enter the shop.

    "Good afternoon, S.G.," Mr. Roger greets me. "Are you ready for your lesson?"

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "I do require the payment up front," he tells me.

    "Here," I pull cash out of one of my pockets.

    He counts it out, then pockets it and walks around the counter to close the shop, then he leads me through the back and into a small yard behind the shop. A stone wall eight feet in height surrounds it, magic runes running across the top of it.

    "Privacy enchantments," he explains when he notices me looking at them. "Prevents others from seeing into the yard. Since I live above the shop, this is my backyard and I like some privacy. Also makes it easier to give lessons without being interrupted or peered in on."

    "Ah," that actually makes me a little more uncomfortable.

    "Have a seat," he gestures to a small table. "I''ll be right back."

    Mr. Roger returns with a tray which has a pitcher of water, two glasses, and some cookies on it. He serves himself a cup of water while I eye the pitcher warily. I''m brave, not stupid, and this setup has me really worried.

    "How was your old teacher telling you to use magic?" He asks.

    "She taught me that air magics are cast by funneling the spells like a tornado," I answer. "Starting wider and shrinking it down. ''Cept Tate''s dad told me that that''s not how air magics are cast ¨C it''s how she casts her spells, and it''s not limited to air magics. Each person''s way of casting is different, though in people with magic bloodlines, it can have similarities to their parents'' way of casting."

    "That''s correct," Mr. Roger says. "It''s dependent on a few things. Your bloodline, for instance. Any particular quirks you inherited through it. A random factor no one has ever figured out. A little of your own personality shows through in it as well, and it''s theorized that it may even affect your personality to a degree. Have you figured out the quirks of your mana?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "He taught me how to tell. My magic wants to, I guess it''s like swirl around me? Or surround me. Like I''m surrounded by a bubble or gale, or am submerged in it."

    Mr. Roger gives me a nod.

    "That matches up with what I know of you," he says. "You put yourself out there, drawing attention to yourself even if you don''t mean to. You''re outgoing and friendly, and maybe a little bit of a showoff. Your magic wants the same ¨C to be noticed and shown off.

    "For the more specific type you mentioned," he says without letting me protest the showoff part. "Try drawing some of your mana above the palm of one hand while focusing on the feel of how it wants to move. Not any particular spell but mana manipulation itself."

    I nod and try doing that. It takes me a minute to figure out how to do what he''s asking and when I do, a sort of glowing, whitish-blue mist forms above my right hand. It swirls around like a tornado, but in the form of a bubble. Maybe¡­ more like one of the gas giants?

    "Wait," I realize something. "That''s my mana! I''ve never managed to manifest my mana like this before!"

    "Because you were being taught incorrectly," he chuckles. "Now, think of what it was like for you to shape it like this. What did you do?"

    "It''s odd," I examine the swirling sphere of mana. "It''s not like I''m drawing it out of my hand, more like I''m just¡­ showing what''s already there? But I can tell it''s my own mana."

    "Magic doesn''t have to come directly out of you even when fueled by you," he says. "It follows its own rules and can simply manifest in another spot from where it''s cast. You can stop now."

    He rises and walks over to a chest sitting to one side of the patio we''re on and pulls something out of it. A small, inflatable beach ball that''s not inflated.

    "Focus on that feeling," he tells me. "Your magic wants to be outside of you, it wants to be seen. It wants to surround you and show itself to the world. Channel that desire, that focus, that intent and create air to fill this up. Let your magic be the air."

    I follow Mr. Roger''s directions and inflate the ball. He has me levitate it above my palm after with air magics, then move it back and forth between my palms using air magics. That''s not something I really know how to do, but he walks me through the steps for the spell.

    Moving the ball around is a little bit of a struggle and I can''t stop the ball from wobbling, but I manage to be able to pass it to him, then catch it, all with my magic by the end of the lesson. That''s even more difficult than just moving it back and forth between my hands, since I have to stop the spell when I pass the ball and then cast it again to catch.

    "And that''s the hour," Mr. Roger says. "Will I see you again for this next Monday?"

    I managed to learn a new spell in the very first lesson.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Thanks for teaching me!"

    Mr. Roger walks me through his shop and to the front door, and I wave before unlocking my bike and hopping on it to ride to Aunt Rachel''s. When I arrive, she''s in the room she set up as her office, reading something on one of her computers while tapping her stylus on the air.

    "I''m back!" I tell her.

    "How was it?" She looks over.

    "It was awesome!" I answer. "He taught me a spell for catching and moving objects with air magic instead of just making them float! I''ll need more practice with it, but it''s already better than with my old teacher!"

    Aunt Rachel asks me a little bit more about the lesson, then I look at her computer. She''s not normally working this late.

    "Get something big in?" I ask.

    "Hm¡­ maybe," she says. "I know you enjoy playing games. Have you ever considered streaming?"

    "Streaming?" I ask. "You mean like what Carter does? Yeah, but there''s not really a gaming viewer base in North America. I looked it up after hanging out with Carter the other day, when he mentioned it. That''s mostly an Eastern Hemisphere thing. North America seems to prefer live streams like crafts and athletics, which I think might come from Adrian King''s influence on things. Pretty sure he''s a secret overlord."

    "Pretty sure it''s not secret," she snorts. "Even if there isn''t much of a viewer base for it, there''s still some. You don''t need to do it for a job, either, but can do it for fun, too. You like hanging out and chatting with others, and that would give you another way of doing so. I know you''ve complained before when none of your online friends are available to hang out and you don''t feel like playing a game where you can''t really just chat with others while doing so."

    She''s kind of right about that. When I''m playing games, I love talking with others. I really only boot up Duty of Loyalty when I''m in certain moods and I can''t play it too much or I burn out, since I can''t just chat with my teammates due to the language barrier. My real-life friends don''t like online games much, though, so I also can''t just chat with them while gaming.

    Well, sometimes one of them will go into a call with me, but their attention goes elsewhere once I start talking about the game or if I have to focus on something in the game.

    "It''d take awhile to build up an audience," I say. "Since, y''know, gaming isn''t really a streamer thing here. Not many''ll look for people like me."

    "You''d be surprised," she says. "You were in Carter''s stream yesterday and he got a lot of views. If his viewers find out that one of the other kids who appeared has his own channel, they might check you out. And you don''t have to do only games, you can do other stuff as well. Real-life stuff, for example. You''re a pretty active kid and some of the stuff you do does fit into the North American audience."

    She spins her stylus around for a moment, then points at me.

    "Magic is something else that gets streamed a lot in North America," she says. "It''s usually people showing off their skills. I did some research today and you know what there''s not really any streaming of?"

    She put effort into looking into streaming for me? Why?

    "What''s that?" I ask. "And why are you looking up this stuff? You want me to be a streamer?"

    "Showing off a person''s progress in learning magic," she states. "Everyone who streams magic comes from a family of mages or has been doing it for years and is already good at it. You could do a weekly stream of your progress in magical abilities, and you''d own the market on it for a little while.

    "As for why¡­" she spins her stylus around before pointing it at me again. "Because you like showing off and need a proper avenue for it, but one which also gives you a way to chat with others at the same time. I think you''d enjoy it a lot.

    "Also," she adds. "There''s a game I want to play with you that has a viewer base across the globe. I think you''d enjoy it, too. It''s an open-world game you can reshape as you please, take on boss battles, explore different biomes, take on dungeons and challenges, uncover lost ruins and artifacts, grow skills and learn spells, and more. A bit like your MMOs and FPSs, but without a set story, allowing you to develop your own."

    "You play video games?" I ask.

    "I play that one," she says. "Some of the people who commission art from me are streamers who play it. I watched a few of their streams and gave the game a try. It''s pretty fun and I think it''d be nice to play it with you. We can set up a server and stream it, even if just for a smaller audience. That said, I do want moderation privileges on your account if you stream. You might think you have good judgment on what''s appropriate or not, but you''re thirteen. You''re prone to making bad decisions."

    "Stereotyping based on age is an awful thing," I say. "But maybe I can give the game a try? Just don''t get upset when I pick up on it faster and end up whupping your butt."

    "I won''t," she snorts. "Let''s get things set up for doing it on Thursdays? We can make it a weekly thing, after dinner. That way when school starts, we don''t have to adjust the schedule again."

    That means I probably won''t be able to do sleepovers on Thursdays, but that''s only if this continues instead of being a short thing.

    "Alright!" I say. "And maybe I''ll do the magic-progress thing. I think it''d be cool to show people how my skills are developing from week-to-week! And if I hang out with Carter more and end up in more of his streams, that means I can also have my own going for it, too! In fact, I might even be able to do some without, like if I stream laser tag. If the place would let me. Oh! And I could also¡­"

 Chapter 0065

    <u>[Xander]</u>

    "How much flour do you need?" Ms. Katie asks as I move the first bag onto the cart.

    We''re at a bulk grocery store with magic ingredients rather than non-magic ones so that I can buy stuff for making muffins that taste extra-good for a stream. Mr. Trey already gave me permission, as long as Ms. Katie watches and is acting as a moderator for the chat. Quinn also agreed to act as a moderator for the chat, just in case it''s needed even though I doubt I''ll really have enough chatters to warrant moderation.

    Thank goodness Mr. Trey didn''t ask me much about what I wanted to stream today. All I told him was that I wanted to bake some muffins on stream, and he''d just asked me some basic questions. Nothing like "how many muffins" or "how big are the muffins".

    I wasn''t trying to mislead him, I just didn''t know how to mention the bigger details and reasoning and I wasn''t lying at all. I really do want to bake some muffins for a stream.

    Since he said I can bake muffins on a stream today, I don''t think he cared about the number or size. Especially since I also asked if I could go to Greyson''s workshop to get big muffin tins and he didn''t ask about the size or other details. That''s the only reason I don''t think I''ll get into trouble ¨C he knew I wanted to go to Greyson''s workshop first and didn''t ask more questions.

    "Eighty pounds per muffin," I answer Ms. Katie''s question.

    "Per muffin?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "One for me and one for you and one for Mr. Trey and one for Quinn. So that''s, um¡­ eight and four is¡­ thirty-two? So, oh, and remember the zero. So it''s three hundred and twenty pounds."

    "How big are the muffins?" Ms. Katie asks.

    "They have a two-foot base," I tell her. "I used Greyson''s computer to figure out how big to make the tins, and then to know how much of each ingredient to buy. I have them all written down."

    I show her the list, which shows how much I need per ingredient per muffin, but also a section that has them all combined.

    "It might have issues with rising," she says. "If the ratios aren''t correct. A standard muffin recipe is designed to help something that small rise."

    "Greyson''s computer does all the math on that," I tell her. "He''s that smart."

    "Alright," she says. "Just be aware that the muffins might not become that big, if he''s never made them that big before and adjusted the system so it would know."

    "I don''t think that''ll be a problem."

    I grab another bag of flour onto the cart, then another, continuing until I have enough. Once that''s done, we move on to the sugar, then the other ingredients. Once it''s all collected, we go to the checkout.

    "Whoa," the cashier says as I start putting everything on the conveyor belt. "Having a baking party with your mom?"

    "She''s not my mom," I tell the cashier. "She''s Ms. Katie."

    "Xander wanted to bake some muffins," Ms. Katie informs the cashier. "We came to get the ingredients for them."

    "These are all for muffins?" The cashier asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "They''re reaaaaaaaally big muffins. And I got stuff to make a drizzle to put on top of them, too."

    "Glaze," Ms. Katie tells me. "It''s a glaze to drizzle."

    Stupid me. I''m pretty sure she mentioned that while we were grabbing the things for it.

    "Sorry."

    "You''re not in trouble," she says.

    The cashier finishes ringing up the stuff, and I make sure to put everything back onto the cart after it''s scanned. Then, I insert my debit card into the slot. Mr. Trey upped the limit for today just in case I needed it, and I really did buy a lot of stuff.

    Once we finish the transaction and have everything I need for the stream, Ms. Katie takes us back to the house.

    "Where do you want to do the baking?" She asks as she parks. "The kitchen might not be big enough¡­ I''m assuming you''re using magic?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Luke mentioned during lessons today that he sometimes shows off his magical abilities because it helps people know he''s not someone to mess with. Keeps people from trying to kidnap him and stuff. That''s what gave me the idea for the muffins. Since I''ll be using lots of magic and it will include time magic, that should tell people I''m not someone to mess with. I don''t want to be someone you don''t want to mess with, but I don''t want people to mess with me."

    "Alright," she chuckles. "What about out on the deck? There''s plenty of space there and it''s a nice day outside."

    "Okay," I say. "Should I get the cart?"

    There are a few types of carts here that can be used to move stuff around. Ms. Katie has a flatbed cart that she uses to move stuff from the garage to the kitchen, though it can also be used to go to the deck. I think.

    "I''ll grab it," she says. "And hold it still while you put everything on it. How does that sound?"

    Since it''s my purchases, it''s only fair that I''m the one who does the lifting. I''m even strong enough for it now, unlike when I first moved into Mr. Trey''s house.

    Once everything is on the back deck, Ms. Katie and Quinn help set up the camera and I pull out the muffin tins I made at Greyson''s workshop. They''re constructed of a sturdy alloy I know can resist heat and sticking. Greyson uses it for his own muffin tins and other baking things so that he never has to worry about preparing them for anti-stick.

    One of the cameras gets set up to look down into the first muffin tin ¨C I made four separate ones ¨C and another is aimed at me, while another is aimed at the table where the ingredients were placed on or around and another is aimed at the clear glass mixing bowls I also pulled from my backpack.

    With all of that taken care of, I go up to my bedroom and change outfits. I''m not as comfortable in MountainStorm Gear since it''s not really that plain, but it looks a lot better and I think that''s important for the stream. Looking as good as my ugly self can. The clothes are comfortable, they''re just not made to keep me cool in long-sleeves and pants when it''s warm out.

    But I think I know a spell for that, so I cast it and feel my body cool down a little bit.

    "Are you ready?" Ms. Katie asks once I''m back on the deck and have pulled on my baking apron.

    I don''t think I''ll ever be mentally ready for this, and I think that''s what she''s really asking, since she knows we have everything set up now.

    "No," I answer. "But we can start if you two are."

    "Did you forget anything?" She asks.

    I forgot something, didn''t I?

    "Maybe?" I answer. "We have the ingredients, and the camera, and the laptop with the streaming stuff set up on it, and I''ve got plenty of mana and changed clothes¡­ that''s everything, right?"

    She points at her eyes.

    "Oh! Right! Thanks, Ms. Katie!"

    I open up my backpack and pull out my glasses case, then put my glasses inside before pulling out another glasses case and slipping on the black sunglasses with green-tinted lenses. They resemble sports sunglasses, but are actually from my augmented reality set creations.

    One of the adjustments I made to it was so that streamers can view their chat and some other stuff while streaming. This way, I can just have the recipe in my vision and respond to chat without having to check my computer or my phone. The recipe''s also been loaded into the database for these glasses since I felt that would make things easier.

    "Now I think I''m as ready as I can be," I tell her.

    "Alright," she says. "Look in my eyes, Xander. Thanks. Remember: Quinn and I are here to help you out if you need it, to change cameras if you need it, and to take care of bad chatters. Just ask if you want us to change cameras or mute a chatter, okay?''

    "There probably won''t be very many people," I tell her. "Since I''m ugly and stupid and not cool like S.G. or Carter. Those who come probably will be bad chatters. If-if you think someone needs punished, please don''t beat them."

    "It''s preventing them from chatting," she chuckles. "Not beating. We don''t beat people here, we beat eggs."

    That does seem to be how it is.

    "Okay," I say. "I think I''m as ready as I can be, so, um¡­ can we please start the stream? Is that okay?"

    "You''re in charge," she says. "But one more thing, alright?"

    Uh-oh. That doesn''t sound good.

    "W-what is it?"

    "Look in my eyes again," she says. "Thanks. I know you''ll want to introduce yourself, so I want to make something very clear to you, okay?"

    "O-okay."

    "My name is Katie."

    "I know."

    "My name is Katelyn."

    Huh? But how can both of those be true?

    "You didn''t detect a lie, did you?" She asks.

    "No," I answer. "But how?"

    "Because both are true," she says. "My name is Katelyn, but I prefer Katie. To most people, the name or nickname they prefer to go by is also their name. That''s what they identify themselves as. There''s no attempt at deception ¨C to the common person, nicknames are the same as names. No one will accuse you of lying for saying your name is Xander. So you can just call yourself Xander, you don''t have to say it''s your nickname. Okay?"

    That''s so confusing and I don''t want to believe her, but she''s being honest. I can tell.

    "O-okay."

    "Alright," she smiles. "Going live in five¡­ four¡­ three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ go!"

    Carter said when we were talking after the stream a couple of days ago that he likes to chat with his chat a little before actually getting to the events of the stream. He didn''t for Sunday''s stream because he was too focused on being able to ride a hoverboard, but he said it helps his viewers have time to come in and watch the stream.

    Since he''s a proper streamer, I think I should try to follow that advice. But I don''t know what to talk about. I didn''t think that far ahead because I only just remembered what he''d said.

    "Hello!" I wave to the camera aimed at me. "X-Xander here, for my second stream. I''m going to be doing some stuff, but let''s give people a few minutes to show up. Hi. I can see some of you are here."

    How do I be social? Ask what people did? I know S.G. and the others often do that when making conversation, so it''s probably safe.

    "Did you guys do anything fun today?" I ask. "I had some lessons earlier, and did martial arts before lunch. It was pretty fun, even if I accidentally punched Luke in the face. He wasn''t mad, either, he just laughed and said that was his fault for trying to goof around instead of helping me train properly."

    One of the chat messages going by catches my attention. There are so many messages going by already, I''m surprised I caught it.

    <u>[GarbledGargle]</u>: are you a black belt?

    "I''m a white belt," I say. "I only started learning last month. Luke''s a black belt, though. He''s helping me learn, but it''s with a professional instructor. I was surprised he didn''t get mad I punched him. It really was an accident, but who''s okay with getting punched in the face? He even said it was his fault. I mean, it sort of was, I guess¡­ he was goofing around a lot during the lesson. The coach had to tell him to stop a few times. Parker said that Luke had waaaaaaay too much sugar with breakfast.

    "What did I have for breakfast?" I read another message. "Blueberry-banana-sprinkle-gummy bear pancakes with sausage links and a parfait with fruit, berries, vanilla yogurt, chopped nuts, and some granola. I helped Ms. Katie make some of the pancakes today and she let me make a cream cheese drizzle for them. What did you guys do today? Anything fun?"

    I talk with chat for about ten minutes, and then a rude chatter shows up.

    <u>[DamienTheBest]</u>: it''s been just talking for 10 minutes when are you actually going to bake?

    The message vanishes a moment later, which I think means it was deleted by a moderator.

    "First," I say. "Your message popped up at nine minutes and forty-three seconds, so it hadn''t been ten minutes yet. Second, it''s called ''chatting with chat''. We''re having a conversation and it''s rude to interrupt. Third, somebody obviously needs more cheesecake in his life. Who can be grumpy when they''re eating cheesecake? I don''t-I don''t get what all of the emotes are for. So anyway, what are your guys'' favorite muffins?"

    That was a lot of emotes that look like someone was laughing and I really don''t understand why they were laughing at me. Then a message pops up in my vision in a private message from Ms. Katie, letting me know that they weren''t making fun of me, they were laughing at the rude chatter getting put in his place.

    When I look over at her, she gives me two thumbs-up and mouths "You''re doing great!"

    I keep chatting with chat until the fifteen-minute mark, then move on to the actual intended content for the stream. That should''ve been enough time for people to show up and not miss the explanations. It looks like I have 4,317 viewers right now. That''s really not a lot, is it?Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Well, I guess that makes sense. It''s just a baking stream by some stupid, ugly kid, not someone cute and sociable and talented like Carter.

    "Okay, everyone!" I say. "Now that people have had time to show up, I''m going to start the baking! Today, I''m baking muffins! But not normal muffins, big ones. Very, very, very big ones. Ms. Katie? Could you please show this?" I put a hand on the tin that has the camera aimed into it. "This is one of four muffin tins, and they''re all this size. I''m making four of the muffins. They''re going to be banana-nut with a strawberry glaze drizzled on top. And the ingredients-oh, can you please switch the cameras to show the table?"

    "Switched over," Ms. Katie says.

    She really did switch just from me asking both times. I know she was honest when she told me to let her know when I want them switched, but still. She never said she wouldn''t get mad at me or that I wouldn''t get into trouble for doing so, yet she doesn''t look upset at all. In fact, I think that''s a friendly smile, not a mean one.

    "Thanks," I walk over to the table. "And these are the ingredients. As you can see, the bananas are yellow, not ripe. We''re also out on the deck, where there''s no oven that can fit muffin tins this big. That''s because, as the stream title says, we''re baking with magic today! It''s not all magic, but there''s going to be a lot of it. Let''s start with the first step!

    "First," I say. "You wash your hands. We have a sink on the deck here, so I''m going to wash my hands in that instead of returning inside."

    I wash my hands in the sink, then dry them off.

    "I used magic to dry them," I add so that chat knows my hands are dry now. "Always make sure to dry your hands, too. Okay, let''s move on to the second step. This is normally where you would grease the tins and preheat the oven, but the magical alloy used in these tins doesn''t let anything stick to it period, so there''s no need for the greasing and magic will be used to bake, so no oven is needed.

    "So for the second step," I say. "We''re moving right into ingredients! This recipe calls for eighty total pounds of flour for one muffin, or four 20lb bags. I''m only mixing up the stuff for one at a time. Oh, wait, hold on. How do I open this bag? Oh, wait, here we go."

    I open up the top of the first bag of flour, then carry it over to the mixing bowl and start pouring in flour.

    "You''re going to notice that the flour''s floating up like flour likes to do," I say. "But not leaving the mega mixing bowl. That''s because I''m using air magic to keep it in. And that''s why it''s not spreading out as it falls out, either. Um¡­ making the little flour cloud as it exits the bag."

    "Billowing," Ms. Katie says.

    "Thank you, Ms. Katie," I say. "That''s why it''s not billowing out. Air magic can be really convenient at times. And it''s eighty pounds of it for one muffin, so that''s four of these bags."

    I think I already said that, but no one in chat is being mean over me repeating myself. Once I finish with the flour, I add in the baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

    "And here''s for a really fun part," I say. "I''ve never done it on this scale before, but I really like watching as everything mixes up. If you''re wondering ''where''s the mixer'', it''s also magic! I''m keeping the air barrier over the top to prevent a dust cloud and am going to use a mixture of air and force magic to whisk the ingredients! Ready? Set? Go!"

    The powders in the bowl begin mixing up, lines sort of cutting through them, showing where the "wires" of air and force magic are. A sort of dust cloud forms inside of the bowl, but the barrier on top keeps it from leaving the bowl.

    When I finish mixing the ingredients, I use a little bit of air magic to make the powdery cloud settle down onto the mixture.

    "Now that that''s done," I say. "It''s time to prepare the bananas! I love doing this bit, so Ms. Katie no longer lets them ripen. If you didn''t know, yellow bananas aren''t actually ripe and what people call ''overripe'' is actually ''ripe''. We''re actually going for overripe this time, which is when they''re completely brown, rather than yellow but covered in brown. This is a mixture of plant magic to help them ripen, air magic to create a bubble around them, and time magic to accelerate the process. And telekinesis to hold the bananas. Don''t put your hand inside of a temporal bubble when the rest of you isn''t. It probably won''t go well for you."

    I move some of the bananas away from the rest. Each bunch comes in six, and I need thirty-six of the large bananas for this. Once they''re separated, I hold my hands forward and work my magic.

    The bananas float up into the air and quickly begin to brown, the process completing in only thirty seconds.

    "And done!" I announce before telekinetically moving the bananas over to a separate bowl. "And now with force magic to peel them, I''m going to let them just drop into this bowl. And you''ll see that the peels are going into another bowl. They''ll be made into compost."

    Once all of the bananas have been dropped into the bowl and the peels into a separate one, I nod.

    "Time to mash them!" I say. "This is just force magic, and it''s really fun to do. At least, I find it fun."

    I hold both hands over the bowl, and the bananas start mashing from the invisible force. After a few moments of this, I make the force magic visible, giving it a green tint.

    "That''s the shape of the spell," I tell my viewers. "It''s not normally green, I did that so you can see it. And once they''re all mashed up, it''s time to add the sugar and other wet ingredients. For a muffin of this size, it takes¡­"

    I continue explaining the process to my viewers, and they seem to enjoy watching me chop walnuts for it. At least, they get more active in the chat when I use the knife and no one''s being mean. They even go "hmp, hmp, hmp!" with me.

    Once I pour the batter into the first tin, I begin preparing the second muffin''s batter. Eventually, it''s time to bake things and I ask Ms. Katie to switch the camera to the tin view. She''s been changing the cameras as I work, but I was worried she might have forgotten that the tins had their own camera.

    That was probably just me being stupid, but she doesn''t comment on it so I think I''m fine.

    "Now here''s the baking part," I say. "It''s a mixture of heat and time magic, with a bubble of air magic around the tins to make sure the heat doesn''t escape. Also telekinesis to hold the tins in the air."

    I gesture to the tins and they float up into the air.

    "So now I''m going to-oh, hello, Mr. Trey," I greet Mr. Trey, who just stepped out onto the deck, changed into his around-the-house clothes. "I''m about to bake the muffins."

    He looks like he''s trying not to laugh for some reason.

    "Hello, Xander," he says. "Are you having fun?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Chat, that''s my foster dad, Mr. Trey. Oh, I don''t think you can see him. He was in my last stream, and he''s over by Ms. Katie. And now it''s time to bake the muffins! Three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ baking!"

    The muffins immediately begin to rise as they bake, eventually forming domes over the tops of the tins. I''m glad I gave the tops a flat space around the edges, as the muffins even spill over a bit, making their domes sort of like hats. It takes only a minute for the muffins to finish, then I use air magic to cool them down a little as I move them onto the large trays we set out for them.

    "That way," I say after telling chat what I''m doing. "The glaze drizzle doesn''t stay liquid as long after getting poured on them and can harden faster. And now it''s time to make the glazes! I was originally thinking of making the muffins like volcanoes, with the glaze leaking out of them, but then I realized it wouldn''t look as good if it was just strawberries or orange glaze, it''d need chocolate to really resemble lava as much as a glaze could. So we''re just going to do a strawberry glaze, though I did grab the stuff to make an orange glaze, in case someone wanted one. And yes, I''ll be using magic to make the glaze. Mr. Trey, Ms. Katie, and Quinn? Do you want a strawberry or an orange glaze? Or we could do both."

    Mr. Trey wants both, while Ms. Katie and Quinn only ask for strawberry, so I make a big batch of strawberry and a smaller batch of orange. The batches are still pretty big since they''re supposed to cover pretty wide muffins, so that''s "big" and "smaller" in relation to that.

    "Also," I say after finishing making the glaze. "Here''s a piping bag. Ms. Katie is a professional and I know she likes doing decorations, so I got her a piping bag," why is Mr. Trey laughing? "Well actually, there are several of the bags because they came in a set, not individually. And now I''m thinking about-about the stream on Sunday, when Carter had his chat vote on stuff. I know me attempting decorations would be a failure since I''m not good at art, but if the adults want to compete, they can do that. Do you want to?"

    I look at the adults for the question.

    "Sure," Mr. Trey says.

    "I can do that," Quinn says.

    The three adults start piping glaze onto their muffins while I just pour it onto mine. It''s really hard to resist just eating some of the pink icing on my own and once I finish covering the top of my muffin with it, I give in to the temptation and eat what''s left in the bowl I prepared for myself.

    I''m the one who paid for the ingredients, so I probably won''t get into trouble as long as I don''t lick the bowl.

    Once the adults do their glaze art, my viewers vote on which one they like the most. Mr. Trey tried to do a flower design, while Quinn drew a bunch of hearts in a circle. Ms. Katie ended up using both strawberry and orange glaze (and I find out that I made more than was needed for one person), and she drew a very good flower design on her muffin.

    Ms. Katie wins by a lot.

    "Alright!" I say. "And now it''s time to eat the muffins."

    "Xander?" Mr. Trey asks as I pull off my apron.

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "I think I''ll only be taking a slice of my muffin."

    "They can be saved for later," I sit down by my muffin. "I don''t mind if you don''t finish your food."

    I take a bite from the rim of my muffin, and it tastes really good. Buying magic ingredients instead of non-magic ones was definitely the right choice.

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    Parker and I can''t stop laughing. We were playing a game when I received the ping that Xander had gone live and switched to that instead to watch it together, and it''s so damn clear to every mage that he''s quietly issuing a threat. Him demonstrating that he can casually use magic the way he did is basically him saying "mess with me or try to take my money and I''ll roast you alive".

    Which probably wasn''t necessary after his flame breath demonstration a couple of days ago, but I guess that''s why he was asking me how come no one really tries to kidnap me or take advantage of me. He wanted to try and figure out a way to deter others.

    The fact that he''s using time magic only makes it funnier because very few mages can even wield it slightly and he went and casually did it twice. A demonstration of his mana reserves.

    Pretty much every mage in his chat is commenting on Xander''s not-so-subtle warning to leave him alone, and there are quite a few people there. Xander drew attention with his hoverboard demonstration and he''s basically blown up as people want to learn more about him. Knowing him as well as I do, even if for as short of a time as I have, I know that he probably thinks he has a small follower base and nearly 5,000 viewers isn''t much.

    To top off the threat, Xander''s eating the entire muffin. It''s not even taking him very long. Ten minutes in and he''s already halfway done with it. The fact that he can keep going tells pretty much any mage or mage-aware viewer that Xander really can burn an immense amount of mana.

    This isn''t really what I''d meant when I told him I do some demonstrations of my magical abilities to make sure would-be attackers and kidnappers and exploiters know not to mess with me, but it gets the point across. Probably a whole lot faster, too, since he''s streaming it live and actively responding to chat, which means people know it''s actually live.

    A few times, they switch the cameras to show both Xander doing that and Trey and Katie trying not to laugh or looking like they''re baffled by the amount he can put away. I think having the quantity as a single item really hammers home just how much high-level mages can eat.

    Tomorrow is probably going to be really fun and I can''t wait to see if Katie offers me more food now that she''s seeing Xander tackle such a giant muffin.

    It''s bigger than his entire torso!

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts during Xander''s PoV

    "Sig?" Aunt Rachel asks as I pass her by.

    "I really need a shower to wash the sweat off!" I tell her. "That''s why I didn''t put a shirt on, you know."

    I just got back from mowing some yards and feel really gross right now, so I don''t want her to delay me taking a shower.

    "Pretty sure that''s just because it''s summer," she says. "Why do I smell honey?"

    "Oh, I''m also covered in honey."

    "And how did that happen?"

    "There was a bear with water balloons filled with honey and it threw some at me while I was running away."

    Aunt Rachel gives me an unamused look.

    "No, seriously," I turn my head to look over my back. "Yeah, look, you can see a balloon bit on my back. You can check the news, too. I''m sure it''s getting reported on, I wasn''t the only victim. I really do need to go shower now! Once I''m done, I''m gonna test my streaming stuff! I got the email that my account is ready to stream while I was out, so I want to test things to make sure it''s working right."

    "Give me about thirty minutes to finish up some stuff," she pulls the piece of balloon off of my back and examines it for a moment. "Then I''ll be ready to moderate."

    "Please," I roll my eyes. "No one''s heard of me. This is purely so I can test out the stuff, so it''s unlikely I''ll get any viewers."

    "Sig," she says. "It''s just in case, alright?"

    I don''t like this, but I get the feeling she might just take my computer away for a little bit if I don''t agree.

    "Fiiiiine!"

    After my shower, I set things up to start streaming, then wait for Aunt Rachel to be ready. Since there won''t be any viewers for a nobody streamer like me, I''m going to play Duty of Loyalty, but on a solo mission rather than a team mission. I boot up the game and start picking out the settings, then wait for Aunt Rachel to let me know she''s ready.

    Rather than coming down here to let me know, she sends a message in my chat.

    <u>[AuntBastion]</u>: Ready when you are.

    I go live.

    "How''s the volume?" I ask. "Can you hear me fine?" She can. "And is everything displaying? It''s supposed to have my game on the screen with my webcam over the map section. Alright, cool! And is the game volume too loud? No, alright! Then let''s start. Wait! I should do an intro!"

    Even if there''s no one here, that doesn''t mean no one will check out the VOD later. I plan on telling my gaming friends about it so they might check it out.

    "Hi, everyone!" I say. "I''m TheUltimateBastion, but you can call me ''Seb''! This is me just making sure the streaming setup is working right in preparation for a stream I''m doing with my Aunt on Thursday, so I''m solo-playing Duty of Loyalty! Going to do a solo mission they released a few days ago, and I haven''t played it yet so this is my first time! We''re going to jump right in, so here we go!"

    I tell it to start the mission.

    "The setting is a deep, dense forest," I say. "I was the captain of a squad on its way to a rift that spawned monsters near some mines, wiping out the entire village and workers. However, the plane we were on got downed by an aerial monster no one knew about and I¡­ was the sole survivor.

    "Now," I continue narrating. "I must wait until backup arrives. An hour of myself and the monsters of the rift¡­ or rather¡­ I and the deaths of countless monsters as they fall to my greatness! Bwahahahahahahaha!"

    I can just imagine Aunt Rachel smacking her head upstairs.

    "Let''s do this!"

    For the next hour, I slay monsters and use parts from the wreckage of the plane and the mining facilities to build a base to defend against attacks from. The mission is a pretty fun one and when it ends, I notice that I have a match request. The name is familiar to me, but it''s in English, not Zrebzialan, so I''m not sure who it is.

    "Wait!" I realize. "I think that''s Lexi inviting me to a tag-team match! Okay, so Lexi is a European gamer. I think she comes from the British Kingdom. We''ve played with and against each other a few times and she''s pretty awesome! Lemme look at the scenario. Oh! It''s the same one I just did, but with two players instead of one! That means there should be a little more difficulty. Let''s accept!"

    I accept the match and receive confirmation once we arrive that it''s Lexi. The two of us play together, her with very broken Zrebzialan and me with broken English. She knows even less of my language than I do of hers, but we manage to communicate well enough to work together and defend against the monsters. In the two-member version of the mission, we have to take out the flying monster before reinforcements arrive and the mission is an hour and a half instead of just an hour.

    That''s fun to take down, especially since we have to get creative due to it being, well, flying while we''re stuck on the ground. Lexi and I manage to figure out how to use grenades to launch things into the air, though, and we succeed in hitting the winged best with shrapnel, tearing part of its wings.

    "Crazy bastard!" Lexi laughs after I do it the first time.

    Okay, maybe I didn''t communicate with her well enough what I wanted to do, but there is a language difference.

    "I''m the best!" I pump my fists up in the air. "Let''s do this!"

    I have to fight to not look at chat during the battle. It suddenly got super busy right before the monster attacked. Since Aunt Rachel didn''t switch the chat into slowmode or Follower-only or something, I''m assuming it''s not bots and I really want to know what''s going on. But I can''t look, I have a monster to take down.

    Finally, at long last, Lexi and I manage to down the beast, my shrapnel-based attack idea helping us in tearing apart its wings so it comes to the ground. When we kill it, we give each other virtual high-fives, then clean up the remaining monsters as they surge, one last battle before help arrives and the mission ends.

    "GG, Bastion!" Lexi says.

    "GG, Lexi!"

    A friend request comes in from her and there''s no way I''m passing up the opportunity to be able to better-coordinate team matches with someone as great of a player as she is. How she knew I was online and was able to send me a match request confuses me, but I can figure that out later.

    "Whoa," I say as I look at my view counter. "Hold up. What''s going on? Uh¡­ wait, on here it says a raid from Xander? Four thousand nine hundred and seventy-two viewers? Whaaaaaaaaaaat? Wait, Xander was streaming? Are you still here?"

    There aren''t as many people here as what he sent over, but there are still over two thousand people who saw me and Lexi try to communicate in languages we don''t know to take down a boss monster. Xander might still be here or he might have left already.

    <u>[XTK9]</u>: That was a really cool fight.

    "Thanks, Xander!" I say. "You were streaming? What''d you stream? Wanna call me?"

    My phone rings almost immediately, and it''s him, so I answer it and connect the call to my microphone so chat can hear him properly.

    "What''d you stream?"

    "I baked muffins."

    He sounds really sleepy, so I think streaming wiped him out and he''s going to need a nap before bowling later. We''ve got plenty of time before then, so he''ll probably take one.

    "What kind?" I ask.

    "Banana-nut," he answers. "Then I ate one. Mr. Trey, Ms. Katie, and Quinn all only ate a part of theirs."

    "Guess they weren''t very hungry, huh?"

    "Not hungry enough to eat as big of muffins as I made."

    He must''ve made dessert-sized muffins. Those can be pretty big.

    "Probably not," I giggle. "Did you have fun?"

    "Yeah," Xander answers. "Especially the part where I mashed the bananas with force magic. That was super fun."

    There''s some sort of clattering sound followed by an "oops" from Xander.

    "I''m gonna have to watch the VOD!" I tell him. "You''re probably busy with something right now, right?"

    "I''m helping Ms. Katie make dinner," he answers.

    "Alright!" I say. "I''m gonna let you go now! Bye, Xander! See you later!"

    "Bye," Xander replies, then the call ends.

    "Alright, chat!" I say. "Thanks for coming in and watching that fight! I''m gonna get going now, too! This was just me testing the stream setup and it''s probably close to time to make dinner here, too! Bye everyone! I should be back on Thursday at about 7 Mountain Time! Byyyye!"

    I end the stream, then stretch my arms and back. That was a fun fight, and Xander raiding in right as it was starting was cool timing. Who''d have thought he''d do another stream so soon after the first?

    As for my own stream, I think it went great, even if I wasn''t expecting any actual viewers. That was definitely a good test run for Thursday, too.

    How many of them will come back for it?

 Chapter 0066

    <u>[Xander ¨C 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 ¨C such as Luke''s ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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?

 Chapter 0067

    [Sig ¨C 13 years] ¡ú starts during Xander''s PoV

    "Really?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    Why does she keep acting like I might be lying? I just told her I wanted to do a weekly progress stream on my magic progress and she''s spent more time asking me if I''m sure than I did telling her I wanted to do this.

    "It was your idea!" I roll my eyes. "Why are you asking me, like, a bazillion times if I''m sure?"

    "Don''t roll your eyes at me," she snorts. "I''m just surprised you decided to. When do you want to do it?"

    "Now!" I answer.

    "With your friends over?" She asks.

    "Yeah!" I nod. "They wanna see what I can do now, too! That''s actually what made me think about it. Their dads have all said they don''t care if they show up in my streams!"

    "Alright," she says. "Give me about ten minutes to finish what I''m working on, alright?"

    "Alright!" I say. "How come you always hide what you''re working on before you let me open the door?"

    "Because you don''t need to know what I''m drawing."

    "It''s something sexual, isn''t it?"

    "No," she rolls her eyes. "It''s stickers for the chat app you use. It''s a commission that came in yesterday, and I''m giving it priority. Just give me ten and I''ll be ready to moderate. And do not start without me, understand?"

    "Yes, ma''am!"

    I salute to her, then close her door and head back down to the basement.

    "Aunt Rachel said I can do it!" I tell the others. "Let''s get the camera set up! Though I don''t know how we''ll do that in the yard¡­"

    "We can use your phone," Sam says. "Just unlock it and give it to me and I''ll do it."

    "Okay!" I give him my phone, then we wait for Aunt Rachel to come out.

    "Ready?" She asks.

    "Yeah!" I answer. "Are you? You took forever!"

    "I said ten minutes and it''s been seven," she says.

    "That''s, like, eighty-four longer than I wanted to wait!"

    Aunt Rachel rolls her eyes at me as she takes a seat.

    "I''ll be watching chat from here," she tells me. "You do your thing."

    "Alright!" I look at Sam. "Ready? Let''s go!"

    "Give me a second to start it!" He laughs. "I put it on that starting soon screen Isaac made a little bit ago while we waited so that some of the chatters would show up before we actually start. I''ve gotta switch it over and it''s not as easy on a phone as I thought it''d be."

    "Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

    Sam takes forever to start the stream.

    "And¡­ go!" He says.

    "Hi, everyone!" I wave. "It''s TheUltimateBastion again! Did you like that starting soon screen? My friends and I were goofing around a little bit ago and made it! I''ll probably get a proper one later. So I know you''re all probably wonder¡­ ''why''s Seb doing a stream right now, live, in his backyard, rather than another gaming stream or some athletic stream? And that stream title? He''s a mage? What kind?''

    "Well!" I say. "I''ve got some answers for you, so don''t be too weird!"

    "You''re the weird one," Connor snorts.

    "Says a weirder one!" I say. "Anyway! I''m actually a kid from an ordinary family, no magical background at all! Just a standard North American kid!"

    "Not with those abs and grades you aren''t," Connor says.

    "You''re just jealous I get better grades than you," I stick my tongue out at him, then look at the phone again. "Oh! By the way, that guy you''re hearing''s Connor, one of my best friends! The camera''s a little shaky because it''s actually my phone, being held by Sam, another best friend of mine. Aunt Rachel and the guy who actually made up the starting soon screen ¨C his name''s Isaac, another best friend of mine ¨C are also off-camera. If you''re wondering how I can have multiple best friends, well, it''s because they''re all tied for first!

    "Anyway," I say. "Aunt Rachel actually gave me a good idea a couple of days ago! See, last year, I started taking lessons in learning how to use magic. A couple of days ago, I changed teachers to this awesome dude in town and it was when I got home that Aunt Rachel made the suggestion!

    "You''ll note the stream title!" I say. "It''s ''Magic Training Log #1''! Since I''m from an ordinary family, no magical background, and not years or a lifetime of professional mentors teaching me, I kind of have a unique perspective on magic when it comes to mage streamers. See, most are people who''ve either been doing magic for years are from magical families or whatever. Me? Not so. I have to build up bigger mana reserves and actually work my butt off on practicing my magic skills.

    "So what I''m doing," I finally get to the point. "Is I''m going to be sharing with all of you my progress! That''s unlike other mage streamers, who are just doing performative magic or competitive or such. My goal is to eventually switch to learning lightning magic, but that takes a ridiculous amount of mana and skill, so I''m starting more basic and am learning air magics.

    "Now," I say. "Air magics aren''t really visible, so I can''t just show what I can do that way. But what I can do is use objects to help demonstrate! Connor!"

    Connor tosses me a small, inflated beach ball and I catch it.

    "So you can see this ball is already filled up," I say. "I filled it up with my breath, not with air magics, as I wanted to be full for this. This ball is what I''ll use to demonstrate. Before I get into that, though, I want to say something to everyone."

    I pause for dramatic effect.

    "If you''re like me and are from a nonmagical family who did research on how to use magic and to find an instructor," I say. "There''s a chance you found one who''s teaching you wrong. My old instructor was, and that''s why I stopped. Know Carter and Tate? The guys I appeared in a stream for the other day? They''re actually the ones who let me know I was using magic wrong, and I was using it the way I was taught.

    "If your instructor is teaching you to use magic through a specific method," I say. "It''s entirely possible that they don''t know how magic works at all. Every person has little quirks in their mana flow which affects how they can manipulate mana. When a magical bloodline develops, those quirks make it easier to use certain types of magic."

    I set the ball down, then hold my hands out toward Connor, who throws me a second beach ball, this one complete clear. There''s glitter inside of it, which flutters around within it. That took us some effort to get inside but we eventually figured it out.

    "See the glitter inside?" I ask. "My previous instructor was teaching me to use magic by shaping my mana in this formation to channel it into the spell."

    I focus on the ball for almost twenty seconds as I try to manipulate the wind in the way I want. Over those twenty seconds, a small twister forms within it, the glitter allowing it to be seen by the way it gathers and swirls.

    "She taught me to view mana as a force which you channel in a funnel," I say. "Gathering it from a wider space and then narrowing it down until it reaches a small point which you use to fuel the spell. She said that''s how all air magic is cast."

    I shake my head.

    "Tate, Carter, and Tate''s dad found out and told me that was wrong," I say, then concentrate on the ball. "And not only is that partially wrong, it''s completely wrong. The spell your casting doesn¡¯t require you to channel your mana into it in a strict input like that. Um¡­ I''m not good enough to do this while talking. Hold on."

    The glitter slowly starts to move towards the outsides of the ball, the air within it swirling in a more spherical form this time.

    "Here we go," I keep focusing on the ball. "This is tiring, by the way, so I''m going to keep staring at it. But this is how my mana wants to be shaped. Except that how the glitter is? It''s on the outside. More like¡­"

    I stop manipulating the air within the ball and cast the first spell I ever cast after learning how my mana really wants to form. Small flakes of snow form around my body, sending shivers through me from where it touches bare skin rather than cloth. Fortunately, it melts pretty fast in the summer heat.

    "My mana prefers to be ''out there''," I say. "It''s a little hard for me to explain like this, but think of it like my mana wanting to be an aura around me that needs to be gathered up! Oh, and that small bit of snow is all I can do with a single cast right now. If I want to generate more, or over time, I have to cast it over and over and over again. Not gonna do that."

    I drop the ball, then pull a deflated ball out of my pocket.

    "And now for the start of the progress log!" I say. "There are only a few spells I can do right now, and you saw my manipulation of the air with the glitter. I can sort of manipulate it in a small space ¨C which is why I used small balls rather than big ones ¨C though as you can see, this ball is bigger.

    "Right now," I open the blow valve. "I can''t create air within it very well, but I can manipulate the air inside. I can also create air right above my palm, so I can fill it up with generated air. Watch!"

    The ball begins to inflate and once it finishes, I plug the hole and toss it up in the air, catch it, then toss it to Connor, who smacks it hard with one hand, sending it flying across the view of the camera. If I weren''t streaming right now, I''d chase after the ball to send it back to him.

    I really want to do that right now.

    "Next up," I grab the small ball that''s empty and hold it above my right palm. "Levitating via air magic. That and what I just showed you is about all I learned under my previous tutor, over the course of a year. It was a real struggle for me to do it the way she was teaching. Now that I''m channeling my mana properly, however, I can do it more easily and for longer. However, I still end up losing control after a bit. Let''s time it! Wait. I don''t have a stopwatch-"

    "We can use my phone!" Connor says. "I''ll start the moment you say ''go''! Just lemme grab it!"

    "Come into camera view if you''re gonna do that," I say, and he comes over to stand to the side of me, facing toward the ball. "Ready?"

    "Yup!" He says. "Just tell me when!"

    "Aaaand¡­ go!"

    The ball lifts up and begins to float about an inch above my palm, wobbling a little while turning slightly in each direction from the wind that''s been conjured to levitate it. Even though it''s easier now, it does still take a lot of concentration after the first ten seconds. Eventually, the ball drops onto my palm.

    "Time!" I call.

    "One minute, fourteen seconds!" Connor announces, showing me the stopwatch before showing it to the camera.

    "The only other things I can do right now," I say. "Is pass the ball back and forth between my hands using air magic, and doing that with someone else. The latter takes a lot more effort since I''m actually casting a spell over and over rather than sustaining one, and it takes two people to do so I can''t really show that one off. But I can do the first. Connor, time it! But, uh¡­ give me a second to recover. It probably doesn''t seem like it, but that actually took a lot out of me!"

    "While you rest," Aunt Rachel says. "Your chat''s been asking questions. Why don''t you answer them?"

    That means people are actually watching. I''m really curious how many people are still around from yesterday''s stream ¨C I know I gained about 2,000 Followers since then, but I don''t know how many are actually sticking around and watching. Most of those came from Xander''s baking stream, and I''m doing pretty different stuff from that.

    "Sure!" I answer. "You gonna ask?"

    "Anyone can if you want," Aunt Rachel says.

    "I know some of them," Sam says. "One of the big ones is them wondering why you wanted to learn magic."

    "Lots of little things!" I answer. "I figured it might impress my parents if I became good at magic, since we don''t have any magical bloodlines. But we also have Lucas Gates of the Gatewood Gates in the area, and I heard about how much of a magical prodigy he is and he''s one of my inspirations. It''s why I want to learn lightning magics!"

    "That was another question," Aunt Rachel says. "Why you wanted to learn lightning magics."

    "Yeah!" I say. "Part of it is because of Lucas Gates, and part of it is because I think it''d be cool to throw lightning around!"

    "You are not throwing lightning around in my back yard," Aunt Rachel says, and my friends all chuckle.

    "Not yet, at least!" I tell her. "I don''t have the magical skill or mana capacity for that!"

    "Not ever!" She laughs, as do my friends.

    I answer a few more questions from chat, then I''m ready to play with the ball a bit more.

    "So before," I say. "I levitated it using air magic and now, I''m going to use air magic to pass it back and forth between my hands! This is a continual spell, so we''ll see how long I can maintain it! Are you ready, Connor?"

    "Ready!" Connor announces. "Say when!"

    "Set¡­ go!" I conjure and manipulate air around the ball to move it back and forth between my hands, which I hold about two feet apart.

    The ball wobbles as it moves between my hands, taking about fifteen seconds for each pass.

    "Wope!" I exclaim as the ball falls.

    "Forty-eight seconds!" Connor announces.

    "Not as good as for hovering it," I say. "But not too bad for someone who only learned how to do it two days ago, in my opinion! And now you''ve all seen what I can do and how much I can do! I''m gonna make a spreadsheet to include the times for it, and we''re gonna add in a new line for them after every log stream! So next Wednesday, we''ll do it again and I''ll update the sheet! That''s all-""

    "Hold on!" Sam calls out. "Chat wants to know if you can see how long you can maintain the funnel! And how long you can maintain pushing the glitter into a sphere against the ball!"This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    "Oh!" I bounce a little. "Didn''t think of that! Yeah! Let''s do that! Though I do need to rest a bit before I can try another. It really puts a strain on my mind to hold spells as long as possible. Same with casting repeatedly. When I did that during my lesson to pass the ball back and forth, I got a headache after only five passes. Let''s talk again!"

    When it comes time for the funnel, I manage to sustain it for thirty-two seconds. For the wind ball, I only manage seventeen seconds.

    "We''ll put those in the spreadsheet!" I say. "Thanks for watching, everyone! Oh! And I''ll be back tomorrow, at about 7 PM Mountain Time! That''s going to be Aunt Rachel and me playing a game¡­ I haven''t learned the name of yet! But I hear it''s pretty popular and she wants to do a server with me, so you''ll get to see my first attempt at the game then if you come back! Byyyyye!"

    I wave as I call an end to the stream, then Sam announces he''s ended it.

    "I think?"

    "You did," Aunt Rachel says. "And now that it''s done, it''s time to make dinner. What do you boys want?"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "You don''t need to help," Ms. Kimberly tells me. "You can play with the others."

    For the most part, I was watching the others play games or shoot hoops, feeling very awkward and unsure of what to do. I don''t like playing basketball because of the bumping that can happen, and I didn''t know how to play the other games that were being played. Some of the other kids chatted with me a little, but it felt like they were forcing themselves to. They''d stay for about five to ten minutes, then swap out with someone else. Russell stuck around with me for a bit, but then I told him he didn''t have to stay with me.

    And he kept staying with me until I was very clear that he could go play basketball like he wanted.

    Now it''s time to get dinner from the delivery driver, and I volunteered to help bring it in.

    "I know," I say. "But I like helping and an extra pair of hands is helpful, right?"

    "It is, indeed," she says. "Alright, you can come."

    I set Trenton on a chair and follow Ms. Kimberly and another supervisor (whose name I don''t remember right now) out of the Fellowship Hall and to the doors where I was let in with Russell. There, we meet the delivery driver, who''s pulled his SUV up to the door with the trunk of it facing the door, the back of it open. They ordered pizza, breadsticks, and wings.

    Ms. Kimberly checks all of the boxes, then pays the delivery driver and gives him a tip on top of that. That part confuses me, since tips aren''t necessary. They''re something that''s paid extra, if I remember what Mr. Trey said, and he usually only does it if the service is above standard by a decent amount, if I''m remembering what he said correctly.

    This is just¡­ delivery. Russell''s talked about books he''s read with me before and in some alternate-Earth stories, tips are sort-of required for some workers. Those stories often sound like horror tales to me, with things like plastic that isn''t biodegradable, car fuel that releases a lot of gas into the air, and a giant plastic trash heap in the ocean.

    If someone tried to make that a reality, then they''d have the elementals, spirits, and fairies revolting. They''d also probably have to deal with Grandpa Adrian putting a stop to them and Santa putting them on the Permanent Naughty List.

    "A tip?" I ask.

    "Yes," she says. "Since it''s such a big order and we do it regularly, they start preparing things a little bit ahead of time so that they can actually make the food faster. That''s why they were able to get it here right at six, too. And he has to deliver a large amount of things, make sure they get here safely and while still hot, so we give him a tip as a bonus."

    "Oh," I say. "That''s really nice."

    The delivery driver chuckles a little as he hands us the boxes. I''m given four of the boxes, though one of them is just breadsticks. Ms. Kimberly and the other supervisor take most of the other boxes, though the delivery driver comes in with us to carry the rest.

    When we return to the Fellowship Hall, the other two supervisors are putting more things out on the tables where food and drinks already were. More fruit and veggie trays, giant bottles of soda and juice, and a giant bowl of salad. The pizzas are put on the tables, organized by topping, and the breadsticks, cheesy breadsticks, and wings are set down separately.

    "Okay!" Ms. Kimberly calls out claps her hands once after all of the food is set out. "Dinner!"

    Everyone comes over this way and I start to move out of the way so that I don''t get crowded and the others can get their food first.

    "No, no!" One of the high schoolers says. "You helped bring it in, so you go first."

    Some of the other kids all nod or agree with him on that. That''s such a weird rule but they all really seem like they mean it, so I go first. Two slices of beef, one cheesy breadstick, a bowl of salad, a bowl of fruit, a small bowl of fruit dip, and a cup of lemonade, then I find a spot to sit and hope this isn''t taken by anyone. There''s not a bag sitting here, at least.

    Russell and a few others join me at the table and talk while eating. They''re mostly talking about some show they watch, so I don''t have anything to contribute to it. Everyone''s allowed to go back for seconds and I''m not too sure about doing that, but since pretty much everyone else does, I grab a couple of more slices of pizza, another piece of cheesy breadsticks, and some more fruit. When someone finishes eating, they throw away their trash and then return to where they were sitting for dinner instead of returning to playing.

    Why are they all just returning to the tables instead of going back to playing?

    "Okay!" Ms. Kimberly calls out and claps once nearly everyone has finished eating dinner. "We''ll be splitting into groups now based on what you all want to do! As usual, you can keep playing in here, or you can go out to the parking lot or yard to play! Will there be anyone who wants to play Sardines inside?"

    What''s Sardines? I look around and see nine of the other kids raising a hand, but I really don''t know what Sardines is.

    "Hold on," Russell says. "I don''t think Xander knows the game. Xander?"

    "I don''t," I shake my head.

    "You know how in Hide-and-Seek how one person seeks and everyone else hides?" He asks.

    "Yeah."

    "It''s the opposite of that," he says. "One person hides and everyone else looks for them. If the seekers find them, they have to hide with that person. So the person hiding needs to hide in a space that can fit everyone else who''s seeking except the last seeker. Once the last seeker finds them, they become the new hider and everyone else seeks."

    That sounds crowded.

    "Oh," I shake my head. "I don''t want to play that."

    "Didn''t think so," he says, then raises a hand. "I''ll play, though."

    "Okay!" Ms. Kimberly says. "The lights are already out or dimmed in most of the building, you can play anywhere that isn''t locked or one of the bathrooms! Stay inside the building for it! Go on and have fun!"

    The kids playing Sardines leave the Fellowship Hall, then those who want to play outside head out there. I''m not really sure what to do, but there are five of the kids who stay inside. They all want to play Charades, so one of them gets some paper, some pencils, and a bucket from the "fun" closet at the other end of the room. Everyone gets to write down three things to act out, myself included. The papers are split into even-sized slips so that it''s not easy to try and go for someone''s own.

    I''m not too familiar with doing something like this and struggle to come up with something to write. Once I do, I fold each of my three slips in half the way everyone else did and drop them into the bucket.

    "Do you know how to play?" One of the other kids, whose name I''ve already forgotten, asks me.

    "Sort of?" I answer. "Um¡­ you have to act out what''s written on the paper."

    "One person is It," he tells me. "And they have to try to get us to figure out what''s on their paper. They hold up fingers showing how many words it is, then they hold up a finger to tell us which word they''re going to act out. Then, they act out what word they''re trying to get everyone to guess, and they''re not allowed to talk until the round is over. It keeps going until either it''s guessed or all of the guessers give up. Whoever guesses it correctly first gets to be the next It, and you''re not allowed to guess if you realize that it''s one you wrote down."

    "Oh."

    But if I try acting, I''ll get accused of lying and no one will like me and maybe even beat me. But if I back out now, then they''ll hate Russell for inviting me here and then he''ll hate me for losing his friends.

    "What''s wrong?" He asks.

    Crap. They''ve already realized something is wrong. Was it that obvious?

    "I don''t act," I tell him, then realize I can probably get away with an honest explanation that doesn''t upset anyone. "I''m really bad at it."

    That''s inherently true because I have zero experience with it at all that I can think of and acting is definitely a developed ability.

    "Oh!" He says. "It''s not really acting, but if you don''t want to do it, is there something else you want to play? We''d talked about playing this earlier which is why we got the stuff for it, but if you want to play something else, you can and maybe one or two of us might join you."

    "I''m fine with watching," I tell him.

    "You sure?" He asks, and I nod.

    "I don''t think any of us will have an issue with you guessing," the only high schooler in the group, a boy who looks about sixteen, says. "Even if you don''t act as It at all. Right?"

    They all agree on that, but I''m not too sure so I just watch while they play. At least, at first. I really get into watching them play and trying to guess things on my own that I accidentally blurt one out when I realize what it is.

    "Bowling!"

    I didn''t even write that one down, someone else did.

    "Yes!" The girl who was trying to get us to guess says. "It was bowling!"

    "You got that fast," the high schooler tells me. "All she did was make a sort of underhand throwing motion with her hand."

    "I go bowling most Tuesdays," I say. "So I make a similar motion a lot."

    "You go bowling?" He asks. "Play on a team?"

    "For fun," I tell him. "But some of my friends have been invited onto a team. They declined because they''re not competitive and just like playing for fun, too."

    "That''s cool," he says. "What''s your average?"

    He probably wouldn''t believe me if I just said it, so I grab my backpack and pull out my scorecards from yesterday to show him. His eyebrows go up when he sees it, and he looks at me.

    "A 300?" He asks. "You scored a strike on every round?"

    "I practiced a lot."

    "Wait, seriously?" One of the girls asks, and everyone crowds over to look at the scorecards, so I move back a little. "Whoa!"

    "Who''s Trey?" One of the other boys asks. "Is that one of your not-bowler friends?"

    "That''s my foster dad," I say. "He was playing with me last night, but he sometimes plays with my friends'' dads. Except for S.G., his dad doesn''t go bowling."

    The others invited me to the sleepover last night, but I didn''t go because I was too tired and felt I''d probably just sleep through it. When I arrived at the house after, I went up to my room, got ready for bed, laid down, and passed out until my normal wake-up time.

    So I definitely wouldn''t have managed to stay awake for the sleepover.

    "That''s cool," he says. "But your bowler friends don''t play with you?"

    "They play either in the next lane or two lanes over," I tell him. "It was the next lane yesterday. We met from bowling for fun, but I like bowling by myself or with Mr. Trey. They''re a bit noisy and hyper."

    "Okay," he chuckles.

    The high schooler gives me the scorecards back, and I put them back in my backpack as the game resumes. Once all of the slips have been done, the game switches to Bird, Fish, Beast. I''m not familiar with it, but the rules are simple enough for me to learn.

    Everyone except the one who is It sits in a circle, and the one who is It stands in the center and points at them in turn, saying Bird, Fish, or Beast as they do. They stop on someone and quickly count to ten, and that person has to say a bird, a fish, or a beast before the count is finished. They''re allowed to rush the count, but they must clearly say each number in it.

    If they succeed, then the person who is It keeps going. If they fail, then they become the new It. If they say an animal that''s already been given, then they become It.

    Broad categories aren''t allowed: we can say something like "mouse" or "rat", but not "rodent". "Deer" only counts for the normal view of deer and not for elk or a moose even though those are both types of deer.

    Those rules are extremely simple and easy to remember, and I have fun trying to come up with something when it''s my turn.

    If someone fails to out-count the one they called on five times in a row, then everyone in the circle does something they call "nose-goes" to pick the next It, so that one person isn''t stuck being It the entire time. I think that''s a pretty fair rule, but they have to teach me what nose-goes is, and it''s apparently where everyone puts a finger on their nose and whoever was last to do so becomes It.

    As we play, some of the kids who were playing Sardines comes in and joins us or begins shooting hoops, though a few kids break off from the circle to play cards. I want to join them, but this game is a lot of fun.

    Eventually, though, the adults who are supervising in here start bringing out the desserts. There''s a wide selection of cookies, brownies, cupcakes, and more. Some of them are on paper plates or in plastic zipper lock bags, so I''m pretty sure that means others brought stuff as well. Since that''s happening, I get up and grab my backpack, then walk over to the adults.

    "Yes?" Ms. Kimberly asks. "Did you want to help?"

    "I brought cookies," I tell her.

    "Oh, right!" She says. "You can put them on the table, if you want. We''ll move them if there''s a better spot."

    "Okay," I open up my backpack and pull out the platter of cookies, and she gives me a surprised look. "Is this too many?"

    "You had an entire platter in there?"

    Oh, right.

    "Um¡­ it has a spatial expansion enchantment," I tell her. "Also an anti-theft enchantment and one which lets me just grab whatever it is I''m going for. That one was tricky to put on with the others, but then I realized that Greyson''s design is¡­ kind of weird."

    "You put it on, yourself?"

    "A magitech engineer and a spatial enchanter?" One of the high school girls asks from the Bird, Fish, Beast circle. "Really?"

    She recognized me from the streams? At least, I''m pretty sure she did because I haven''t mentioned that I like doing magitech to anyone here tonight. But she didn''t say anything at all, so I guess I was right about not being that great at it.

    "Yeah," I nod as I set the platter down on the table. "But it was Greyson''s design for the enchantment¡­ modified to remove a bunch of unnecessary stuff and to change the security enchantment from a shock to a barrier."

    "That''s pretty cool," she says.

    "Did you bake the cookies with magic?" A sixth-grade boy asks, bouncing on his feet from where he''s watching desserts get put out. "I saw your stream yesterday and that was so cool!"

    "You''re a streamer?" Ms. Kimberly asks.

    "I''ve only streamed twice," I tell her. "Once was because I was showing my hoverboard to a streamer and he wanted to stream, and then yesterday to bake some giant muffins."

    "They were bigger than he was!" The other boy exclaims. "Like, this huge!" He stretches out his arms. "And he ate one of them all by himself on stream!"

    "A giant one?" Ms. Kimberly asks. "You do some pretty big magics?"

    "He used time magics to do the baking!" The boy excitedly tells her. "And he''s a Lumaria King, too! You didn''t realize when he showed up on a hoverboard? He''s super cool! His baking video got in my feed ''cause I was looking up baking recipes ''cause we''re having a birthday party for my cousin soon and I saw it and it was awesome!"

    More than one of the kids here saw at least one of my streams or videos? But I''m not that good at it. And no one commented about it, either.

    Wait.

    Didn''t Russell mention he came out to wait for me when he saw me arrive? That means he saw me show up on the hoverboard, and others would''ve, too. Especially since I was doing circles in the parking lot while on the phone. No one''s even mentioned to me about the higher-tier stuff I have or can do.

    They definitely would''ve if they wanted to take advantage of me or try to get something out of me, I''m sure of it. Especially with how excited the other boy is talking about it.

    Now I''m just confused but I decide to just focus on his question.

    "I didn''t bake them with magic," I tell him. "I baked them the normal way."

    Or maybe they didn''t bring it up because they understood the warning that yesterday''s stream was?

    "That''s cool, too!"

    Once all of the desserts are set down and some more drinks are ready ¨C including a large bowl of punch ¨C us kids are allowed to get dessert.

    The rest of tonight''s gathering occurs here in the Fellowship Hall, with everyone eating snacks or playing games or shooting hoops. When it finally ends, I put the platter back into my backpack and pull it on, then say goodbye to the kids near me and leave, Russell coming out with me.

    Mr. Trey is talking to another man, the two of them leaning against the front of Mr. Trey''s truck.

    "Hi, Dad!" Russell says as we approach.

    That''s Russell''s dad?

    "Hey, bud," Mr. Jackson (at least, I think that''s his last name since that''s Russell''s) gives him a half-hug. "All done?"

    "Yup!" Russell answers. "This is Xander, by the way!"

    "Nice to meet you, Xander," Mr. Jackson greets me. "Russell''s mentioned you quite a bit."

    He did?

    "Hello, Mr. Jackson," I say. "Russell, this is Mr. Trey, my foster-dad."

    "Hi, Mr., uh¡­"

    "You can call me ''Trey'' if you like," Mr. Trey says. "This isn''t a formal setting."

    "Okay!" Russell says. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Trey!"

    "Likewise," Mr. Trey says. "Xander looks about ready to fall asleep, so we should probably get going."

    Today had a lot of stuff going on for me and I feel really tired, especially after interacting with people so much. It was extremely fun, though, and I hope I get invited back again, even if I didn''t like the start of it where they were talking religion. The rest of it was fun, though, and I even felt like a normal boy towards the end.

    "I feel about ready to fall asleep," I tell him, then look at Russell and whisper. "Russell?"

    "Yes?" He whispers back.

    "Can I hug you?"

    I know we can''t date because he''s moving, but I still feel like hugging him as thanks for inviting me. Tonight was a lot of fun and my body wants to hug.

    "Sure!"

    I step closer and give him a hug, and he slides his arms under mine to return the hug. That makes me happy, because it means he''s not pinning my arms down.

    "Have a good night, Xander!" He tells me after we release each other.

    "You, too," I tell him. "Bye, Russell."

    "Bye!"

    I get into the back seat of Mr. Trey''s SUV, setting my backpack on the seat beside me, then buckle up. By the time Mr. Trey''s buckled in, I''m asleep.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    BOOM!

    "EEP!"

    I bolt upright, my breathing fast as my heart rapidly pounds in my chest. What was that? Something just woke me up. What was it?

    BOOOOOOOOOM!

    The rumble of the thunder draws out, and I bury myself under my blanket. Thunder. It''s thunder. It''s so loud. It''s so long. And there''s another. And another. Stop. Stop. Stop! I don''t want thunder! Too loud! Too loud! Too loud! Stop! It needs to stop! Please stop!

    Another scream escapes me and I throw my blanket off and get out of bed, then quickly change out of my sleepwear and into pajamas and socks before running out of my room and down to the other end of the hall.

    "Dad!" I start knocking on his door. "Dad! Dad! EEEP! DAD! DAAAAD!"

    It''s thunder it''s thunder it''s thunder!

    "Xander?" A voice asks from behind.

    "Mom!" I tackle her and wrap my arms around her, burying my head against her. Safe. Safe. It''s not safe here. "Dad''s not answering! AAAAH! THUNDER! DAD!"

    The door to Dad''s room opens, and he''s wearing just a pair of pajama pants. He must''ve been getting ready for bed and didn''t hear me because he was in the closet to change. It took him so long to hear me but he''s here now. I''m safe. I''m safe. I''m safe.

    "Dad!" I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him. "The-the-the thunder! It won''t go away! Ah! Again! Dad, please hide me! I-I-I-AH! Please don''t go, Mom!"

    "What do you want to do?" Dad wraps an arm around my back, rubbing it slightly. "You want to stay in here with the sound barrier on?"

    "Can I please?" I ask. "Please? EEE! Mom, too?"

    "Come on," Dad pulls me further into his room. "Katie?"

    "Let me grab some cards real quick," she says. "That might help a little."

    "Alright," Dad says. "You can stay as long as you want, Xander."

 Chapter 0068

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Morning, Dad!"

    "Morning, Luke," Dad greets me. "No classes with Xander today."

    "So it did end up getting canceled?" I ask.

    "You thought it might?"

    "Ever since I fixed my mana," I explain. "My sense for electricity has gotten waaay stronger. I can feel the signals from Trey''s house, and I''m able to distinguish the ones in people I''m familiar with. I noticed Xander going straight to bed when he got home last night, then at about nine-thirty, when the thunder started, he went to Trey''s room. That confused the heck out of me! Especially since he stayed there after that, and Katie went in there, too. She and Trey left it a little bit ago, but Xander''s still in there so I think he''s still asleep."

    Xander''s way more scared of thunderstorms than he is of being hurt by Trey if that''s where goes during the storm, which I think means he''s comfortable with Trey now. That''s pretty awesome, even if he''s not comfortable with me.

    "Huh," Dad looks in the direction of Trey''s house, though he can''t see it since he''s in the kitchen and there''s quite a bit of stuff between here and there, including walls. He looks back at me. "Is Parker up?"

    Parker spent the night here last night. That''s not really all that unusual, even from before we stated helping with Xander''s lessons. Parker and I usually stay together at one of our homes when there''s no school the next day ¨C or even if there is school the next day. We only don''t if Parker or I have business or work that evening or the following morning, or if our parents tell us that we aren''t having a sleepover that night.

    I''m so glad he''s over whatever mood he was in, getting to play video games with him for hours is so much fun and I missed doing it.

    "He said that if there''s not coffee when he comes down, he''s going back to bed," I say as my phone pings. "Oh! That''s probably him saying he''s on his way down."

    I pull my phone out and find a picture from Tyler instead. He''s in shorts, his floppy hair a darker shade of brown than normal due to the water that''s sticking it to his head, probably from a shower judging by the towel hanging around his neck. He''s giving the camera a peace sign, his blue eyes bright with energy.

    <u>[Tyler]</u>: Finally! Civilization again! Finally got to wash the gunk and grime off and feel like a human again!

    "Oh! It''s Tyler!" I say. "Looks like he''s returned to society!"

    <u>[Luke]</u>: And a good thing, too! You look great as a human! Probably not so much as a gunk monster.

    <u>[Luke]</u>: It''s not even seven yet! Did you get back last night?

    <u>[Tyler]</u>: Half an hour ago! Slept on the way so feel energized! Wanna hang out after your thing?

    That means he''s in the area!

    <u>[Luke]</u>: Canceled for today! We can hang out now! Wanna grab breakfast? Or come over for it? We just gotta get Parker some coffee and he''ll be good to go!

    <u>[Tyler]</u>: Lemme ask Dad!

    "I take it you''re arranging hanging out with him?" Dad asks.

    "Yup!" I look up. "He''s gonna ask his dad. We might grab something to eat so don''t start cooking yet."

    Dad looks at the food he''s cooking, then at me.

    "I''m sure you, Mom, and Gabe can eat all of that!" I tell him.

    "Why not us?" Parker grumbles as he approaches.

    "We might be going out to get something with Tyler!" I say. "He''s finally returned to civilization and wants to hang out with us!"

    "Uuugh!" Parker complains.

    "Stop that!" I lightly whack him in the back of the head. "You aren''t my only friend and I wanna hang out with both of you! So you''re getting coffee, you''re coming with us, and you''re going to enjoy it! Got it?"

    Parker just huffs and accepts the cup of coffee from Dad before adding stuff into it.

    "You know that being addicted to that will stunt your growth, right?" I ask.

    "You know that''s just a myth, right?"

    "It''s not healthy to be addicted to coffee at thirteen."

    "And who was it that was running around outside, trying to eat any lightning that went for his yard?"

    Last night''s storm was particularly bad and felt incredibly full of magic. Something about it was strange, but it definitely wasn''t caused by elementals so I''m going to chalk it up to some oddness with magic. That happens from time to time, and there was so much lightning.

    "LIGHTNING IS DELICIOUS!"

    "Calm down, Luke!" Dad laughs. "And you did stay in our yard this time, yes?"

    "Yep!" I answer.

    "Nope!" Parker answers. "He vaulted the fence and soared into Xander''s yard to nab a lightning bolt that was going for a peach tree."

    Dad gives me a reprimanding look as he goes to say something.

    "Do you have any idea how upset Xander would be if any of the peach trees were destroyed by lightning?" I ask. "And there''d be more than one due to proximity, too. And then I''d no longer be able to get peach pie that he bakes! It''s sometimes served as dessert after lunch! And he''d probably be all mopey, too, and that''s not a good look on him. Trust me, he looks way better when he''s happy."

    My phone pings again so I check it.

    <u>[Tyler]</u>: Dad said sure! We can be at your place in about fifteen minutes!

    "He''ll be here in fifteen!" I say. "Gotta go get dressed! Come on, Parker!"

    I lightning-charge my body and dash upstairs, then try to decide on what to wear. What would look best for hanging out with Tyler and Parker? I do like the jeans and polo outfit Xander suggested I switch to, but I''ll probably need more mobility than jeans today. They also get pretty warm outside due to the summer heat, so I''m kind of envious of Xander of being able to handle them.

    "Oh, my goodness," Parker says when he enters my bedroom. "You''re still not ready? Argh. Here."

    He grabs a pair of silvery shorts, then a yellow sleeveless, and throws them at me.

    "Wear those," he says. "You look great in them."

    I do?

    "Okay, then!"

    I change into them, then slip on my socks and shoes before heading downstairs with Parker. Tyler''s getting dropped off by his dad just as we reach the front door, and we immediately leave to get something to eat.

    "Parker, look at this picture!" I tell him as we eat a massive breakfast at the restaurant we picked out. "It''s so cool!"

    The picture is of Tyler sitting on the back of a massive horned wolf, which has a few injuries covering it. The wolf itself has deep orange fur with red and yellow streaks, and probably at least thirteen feet to its shoulders when standing. Scorch marks spread throughout the section of forest he''s in, some of the trees burnt to a crisp. All of the fires are gone, so Tyler and his dad must have hunted responsibly and took pictures after everything was done.

    It''s one of the beasts he and his dad hunted during their longer hunt and is a pretty impressive catch. According to Tyler, he fought the thing himself while his dad took on three more.

    Tyler himself is dressed in a pair of black shorts and a green sleeveless shirt with a black vest over it, boots on his feet. There are a few injuries on him, including some burns on his left arm which are no longer there, so he received quality medical treatment after the hunt.

    Despite being covered in blood, grime, and wounds, Tyler looks pretty happy, cheerful, and cute. I''m not surprised, though, as he generally seems upbeat to me.

    "Luke," Parker rolls his eyes. "He''s showing it to both of us."

    "Can I ask something?" Tyler suddenly turns serious.

    "This doesn''t sound good," I say. "But go ahead! If it''s bad, then you''ll just have to arm-wrestle me until you admit you''ve got no hope against my endless might!"

    "I have less than a hundredth of your mana," Tyler says. "Your body is ridiculously strong compared to mine. I''d have better luck finding a unicorn."

    "So you admit it before even starting, then!" I point my fork at him. "You''re going to ask me why Parker has awful tastes in clothes! Unfortunately, even the gods of clothing can''t fix his bad taste. That''s why he''s only allowed to go clothes shopping with me, so that someone with actual taste can make sure he doesn''t try to match something like a pink shirt with green leopard print with a pair of neon orange pants. And yes, he''s tried that before. And no, it does not look good."

    "You did what?" Tyler snickers.

    "What''s your question?" Parker asks, apparently not in the mood for the usual teasing.

    Is he still upset about me wanting to hang out with Tyler? I really don''t understand what the problem is.

    "Are you two dating?"

    What a weird question.

    "Why would we date?" I ask. "I mean, sure, he''s cute and cool and fun to hang around, but he''s a guy, too."

    Tyler seems bothered by that answer for some reason while Parker just sighs.

    "Two guys can''t date?" Tyler huffs.

    "How would that work?" I ask. "Isn''t the goal of dating to eventually marry and have babies?"

    "Isn''t the point of it to be with someone you like and want to be closer to?" Tyler asks.

    "Isn''t that the same thing?" I ask.

    "It doesn''t have to be for baby-making," he says. "And we''re all going into the eighth grade. Pretty soon, high school. My dad says dating during this time is mostly to get a feel for what relationships are like, see what we like in them and are looking for, and give us experience so that when we reach the college years, we''re more prepared for proper, serious dating. Not that we have to date in middle and high school, just that if we do, that''s what it should be for. And if we find someone we end up with long-term, like, for life during this time¡­ then we''re one of the very few. It can just be someone you like spending time with and get closer to them. Texting each other lots and just hanging out more often. And you and Parker¡­ seem like that? Like, the way you bump into each other, always sit right next to each other, I keep expecting you two hold hands or kiss. You really seem like you like each other like that. So I figured you two were maybe together, with all of that in mind."

    "Two guys can date?"

    Since when? That''s a thing? But Tyler''s acting like it''s normal. I haven''t heard of this. I''ll need to consult someone and see where I''ve been wrong this whole time. Who do I know who can advise me about this? My parents? They''ll probably just think I''m wanting to date someone. Gabe? I don''t know if he really has any experience with dating.

    Hm¡­ something to consider another time. For now, I should answer Tyler''s question. He''s not really been waiting that long since my mind operates much faster, but a prompt continuation from my question is better than letting me get lost in thought.

    "Don''t be mistaken," I shake my head. "Parker''s my best bud! That''s why I like hanging out with him. And I like hanging out with you because you''re cool and cute and smart and fun to be around! Plus, when we start talking about magic, it gets really neat because there aren''t too many people I can do that with even at the school we attend despite everyone there knowing at least some magic!"

    "O¡­kay," Tyler doesn''t seem to know what to say and looks at Parker. "Um¡­ what are your thoughts?"

    "That Luke''s just an oblivious dolt," Parker answers. "And my parents said I''m not allowed to date because I struggle with managing and conveying my emotions and am therefore not emotionally mature enough to date even in the way that a middle-schooler would. Well, they used a whole lot more words than that, but that''s the short of it."

    "You''re awesome at managing your emotions!" I say. "Apart from your little hissy fit over the weekend, you''ve always been cool! Well, and I guess you struggled with what to do about those former friends of yours being assholes, but that''s okay!"

    "Not like-" Parker groans. "No, Luke. I¡­ get jealous. Bad. I hate admitting it but I do and my parents said that until I can learn to deal with it in a healthy manner, I''m not allowed to date."

    "You should treat jealousy like coffee and kick it to the curb!" I say. "I get jealous of others all the time! Like, how can you go the park and hang out with complete strangers and not annoy them just by trying to chat? That makes me suuuuper jealous! Very envious. Well, I guess you do have trouble managing some emotions, but we''re eighth-graders, not thousand-year-sages. Like, I don''t get why you don''t like Tyler at all and being mad that I want to hang out with him when he''s here is annoying and all, but I still love you, you big goof! Even if you can get pissy! Like, I''m allowed to have more friends than you, you now!"

    "I know!" Parker snaps. "I just-argh! Just forget it."

    Parker shoves some more eggs into his mouth. Did I say something wrong?

    "Parker," I poke him in the side, but in a spot that won''t trigger his ticklishness. "Parker. Parker. Parker."

    "Stop!"

    "Did I say something wrong?" I ask. "If I did, I apologize. I love hanging out with you, even when you''re a little bit moody. Tyler''s not gonna replace you, I don''t replace friends, I just make new ones. Alright?"

    "Whatever," he mumbles, and I put an arm around him and pull him in. "Luuuuke!"

    "No frowns, only funs!" I say, then release him. "Oh! Hey! Let''s head to Whitemane Simulation Center! I wanna test some stuff out! And you two can show off your skills!"

    "I''m an odd duck for that¡­" Parker mumbles.

    "Nope!" I poke him in the side, causing him to squirm as I targeted a ticklish spot. "You''ve got some cool abilities, too! Let''s hurry up and finish our breakfast!"

    We finish eating, then I pay and we leave. All three of us sit in the back of the car as Xavier drives us, with Parker forcing himself to sit in the middle instead of letting me. That''s strange since they''re both my friends and I''m his only one, but he did that on the way to the restaurant so I know he''ll refuse to answer on why.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    "Wait, really?" Tyler asks while we''re on the road between Dragon Falls and the city. "Adrian King''s really doing that?"

    I just told him and Parker about the devices for making mana crystals and how magic will start being taught more in North America. Nothing that I know is a secret, such as the seal on the soul cycle or how Adrian King is wanting to boost Earth''s baseline because of souls like mine and Xander''s, just the more public stuff.

    Definitely not my suspicions that Xander is some sort of experiment. If I start telling people that and I''m right, it only puts them at risk of getting put down, too.

    "It was officially announced while we were eating breakfast," I nod. "I just saw it on my news feed, look," I show the others the article on my phone. "Though I did kind of already know. He came to talk with me the other day and gave me one of the devices. That''s actually part of why I wanted to go to a simulation center ¨C he helped me figure out what''s wrong with my mana and why I become so hyper and babbly, and I now have ridiculous control over my mana, so I don''t get that way anymore. Remember when we were discu-STOP THE CAR!"

    Xavier swerves onto the side of the road and parks, looking back at me. The road here passes through a grassy field, though it''s only grassy for about one thousand feet to either side. Then, it''s forest ¨C a forest which is deliberately cleared this close to the road to give a clear view in case of a monster attack. There''s nothing visible in the fields, but that doesn''t fool me.

    Not since the very thing I was about to tell Tyler about.

    "Stay in here and put a barrier on Parker!" I order as I unbuckle and get out.

    There''s no way this is coincidence. Whoever left the golems here before, those were just a test, I''m sure of it. They must have a lot of funding, to be able to build more and place them here to wait for me to come this way again. These ones are likely a lot stronger than before, too.

    I close the door walk around the car and onto the road, looking around as I do. I can''t sense any other cars within range of us, which is part of what tipped me off that something was wrong. A barrier must have gone up after we went through that''s either holding others in place or causing them to turn around.

    Illegal, of course, but it seems these people really want me.

    "Hey," I call out, using magic to amplify my voice and spread it around. "I know you''re there. Are you controlling them remotely? I sense twenty-six¡­ no, twenty-seven smaller ones and fourteen larger ones. I''ll give you one chance to surrender, or your golems will be surrendered to the government for inspection."

    I punch my right fist into my left palm.

    "You have ten seconds."

    The golems I sensed burst out of the woods from either side of the road, charging toward me. The smaller ones are a little bit faster than the larger ones, but not significantly. They''re probably more agile, though. Based on the particular hue of the metals the bodies of both golem types, they''re made of a lightning-resistant metal.

    Unfortunately for whoever these people are, actually finding materials which can withstand my level of power is difficult.

    Especially since we don''t actually publicize too well how strong I really am. In addition to that, I''ve actually grown more powerful since fixing my mana.

    Sparks flash across my body as my skin and hair begins to glow with a yellow light, and I float up into the air as a few larger sparks begin to dance off of my body. The golems don''t seem to be equipped with spells, which means they''re probably designed for physical combat, the majority of their expenses poured into improving their defensive capabilities.

    Though they probably do still have some ranged attacks. The controllers are probably waiting to see what I''m doing before activating those.

    "So," I say. "You''ve chosen to surrender your golems. They can withstand want, enough force and power equal to around 2,000 mana''s worth?"

    I scoff.

    "Not a bad idea," I say. "Attack by overwhelming. I shouldn''t be able to handle them as long as they maintain space like they''re doing.

    Small sparks shoot off of me, flashing to the golems. The moment they make contact with the golems, lightning explodes outward in spheres. Some of the golems attempt to evade the sparks, but my magic is much too fast.

    Thunder rolls out with each burst and the sound of glass shattering reaches my ears. That would be the windows to the car. Even with my improved control over lightning, I can''t stop the thunder itself unless I weaken my attacks to the point they can''t destroy the golems. There''s enough thunder, and from close enough, that the sheer force of it shatters that which is fragile.

    At least I know that the three in the car are safe. Xavier will have put up the barrier I ordered him to.

    "Hello there," I fix my gaze on the sole surviving golem, a larger variety I didn''t send a spark to. "Care to talk about why you''re sending forces after me?"

    It answers by aiming a hand at me, revealing a cannon in the palm.

    "No?" I raise an eyebrow. "Very well, then."

    I extend a hand out toward the west and a little south and send a bolt of lightning in that direction. It travels almost two miles, then ceases traveling forward and turns into a pillar of crimson lightning.

    "It''s not that hard to properly do your research," I say. "Anyone who wants to kidnap me would know that I help rescue people trapped by disasters¡­ and take on demons that the special magic forces can''t easily handle. I don''t know who you are or who you''re working for, but there''s a reason no one tries to kidnap a kid like me."

    I raise up my left hand in a ready-to-snap motion.

    "I''m just too powerful."

    I snap, and the golem collapses to the ground. No sparks, no lightning, nothing. Just a snap and a drop.

    Returning to the ground, I release my lightning-god mod and hurry to the car. The serious-and-pissed mode is off, now it''s time to be back to my normal self.

    "Parker!" I exclaim. "Are you okay? Xavier got the barrier up in time, right?"

    "Y-yeah," Parker says. "I knew you got stronger, Luke, but what the hell was that? I''ve never seen you use lightning magic like that before!"

    "That was me being a lightning god!" I boast.

    "More importantly," Tyler''s frowning and looking out the window. "What''s that pillar of red lightning for? That seems¡­ random."

    "When I boost myself with lightning," I say. "My sense for a person''s electricity becomes massively boosted. It always kind of did that, but now it stretches miles. And I know there''s not supposed to be anything over there, so I figured that that''s where the golem''s controllers were located since I can sense a group of people and a bunch of devices. Especially since it seemed like the people there went into a panic after I took out most of the golems. The lightning is acting like a barrier, keeping them from escaping ¨C and an alert to the military to send in the magic special forces.

    "Though this really sucks," I say. "I wanted you to see how awesome Parker is! Now we gotta deal with the military and stuff. Oh! We can do that here while we wait for them to show up! Hey, Parker! Wanna show off while we wait?"

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    Something is wrong. This doesn''t feel like my bed or blanket, but these are my stuff animals around me and I''m snuggling the leviathan plushie I bought the other day. I like sleeping on my side, and I recently found out that some people have an easier time if they hug a pillow but I didn¡¯t want to do that, so I bought a large leviathan plushie.

    It''s got a mix of green and blue for its fluffy body, is about a foot and a half in diameter, and about seven feet in length. My arms and legs are wrapped around it and it''s very comfortable, it''s head right up at my chest, which is covered rather than bare.

    That''s actually uncomfortable, feeling it on the other side of my shirt.

    Wait. I''m dressed in pajamas, not my new preferred sleepwear? Why?

    Oh. That''s right. I got really scared from the storm last night and came to Trey''s room, and he and Katie played Go Fish and talked with me until I fell asleep. He really let me come to him and didn''t hurt or abuse me or touch me bad when I got scared.

    I don''t really remember much from when the storm woke me up, but I remember that much. Trey and Katie helped me fall back asleep and didn''t hurt me.

    I return my stuffed animals to my room, realizing as I do that it''s past the time when I would normally be in classes. Even that was allowed today.

    When I head downstairs, Trenton held against my chest, I find Trey, Katie, and Ms. Johnson talking in the kitchen. Katie''s also cooking something, which is strange. It''s past nine in the morning

    "Morning, Xander," Trey says.

    "Good morning, Xander," Ms. Johnson says.

    "Hello," I say. "Sorry for bothering you last night, Trey."

    "You can always come to me if you''re scared," he smiles a little for some reason. "How do you feel now?"

    "Confused," I tell him. "But also calm and a little happy."

    "That''s good to hear," it is? "I decided to let you sleep in, so classes are canceled for today. I wanted to talk with you about them, too."

    "Now I''m feeling scared."

    "You''re not in trouble," he chuckles, patting one of the stools at the counter, and I walk over and sit on it, making sure to grip it properly so I don''t spin, and I put Trenton on the one next to me. "Tiffany and I were just discussing your classes. Based on your progress so far, you won''t be ready for eighth grade in time for the school year to start unless we up your lessons by a lot."

    "So we''re doing that?" I ask. "Two more in the afternoon?"

    "Let me finish," he grabs a box that was sitting to the side and gestures towards Trenton. Is he offering to let Trenton sit on it so he can watch Katie cook, too? I pick up Trenton and Trey puts the box on the seat, then I put Trenton on the box. There, now he can watch Katie cook. "What we were discussing is to cancel the summer lessons altogether and have you be home-schooled this next school year. It''s not normally allowed for foster kids, especially ones as far behind as you are. However, since I''d be hiring professionally-licensed teachers for it, Tiffany said that an exception can be made. This would allow you to have an entire school year to gain the basics and catch up to the bare minimum needed for ninth grade."

    "So I''d have another year before having to go to school again and get made fun of for being dumb?"

    "You''d have another year to catch up on your classes so you can be ready to enter school again," Trey says. "How does that sound to you?"

    "But then it''d just be me and the instructor, right?" I ask. "Not me and other kids?"

    "You don''t have to do this if you don''t want to," Trey tells me. "We just felt it might make things easier for you, so that you''re not on a time crunch to try and catch up."

    "Oh."

    So if I do this, then the summer lessons end, but if I don''t do that, then the summer lessons will get more intense.

    "If you''re thinking what I''m thinking you''re thinking," Trey says. "The summer lessons are independent. We can continue them if you''d like, but if you go with getting home-schooled for eighth grade, then there''s no reason for you to continue them."

    "But I still need to get healthier," I lift up my shirt. "See? I don''t have abs yet, only traces of abs."

    "We can still continue them if you want," Trey tells me. "And you don''t need to make a decision today. Just think about it and let me know what you decide, alright?"

    I have time to think about it?

    "Okay," I say. "Is it okay to ask why Katie''s making something? It''s not breakfast time or lunch time. And that looks like breakfast to me."

    "One of the guards in the guards'' guest room let us know you were moving around," Trey tells me. "So we figured you''d be coming down and that you''d be a little hungry. She''s fixing your breakfast."

    "Oh," I say. "Thanks. Also, hello, Ms. Johnson. I don''t remember if I greeted you."

    "You said ''hello'' to all of us," she smiles. "I''m glad to see you''re still doing well. I heard you went to a youth group to hang out last night?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "How was it?"

    "Awesome!" I answer. "So they have this giant room where some of the playing was in, and dinner was mainly pizza, but they had other stuff as well, and dessert was a ''you can bring some if you want'' sort of deal so there was a big variety to choose from, and¡­"

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Hello, everyone!" I greet my viewers. "Here is the promised Thursday stream, where I experience World of Myst for the first time! I''ll be playing on a server my aunt is hosting, where she''ll be running me through some of the basics! I''ve only briefly heard of the game before and don''t really know much about it. Sandboxes aren''t quite my type of thing, but I want to play a game with my aunt, so here we are! Time to load in!"

    I join the server and when my character loads, Aunt Rachel''s got her avatar right in front of me. Her skin is designed to be wearing a pair of cargo pants, some boots, and a beige vest with pockets over a green t-shirt. Mine is a matching skin, with shorts instead of pants and no shirt, just the vest.

    "Hi, Aunt Rachel!" I say. "Long time, no see!"

    "You just saw me five minutes ago," she''s definitely rolling her eyes. "One thing I forgot to mention, but worlds have a randomly-generated seed, which is used to determine its layout. Where the biomes and challenges are, where structures spawn and which structures they are, and so on. You can find everything in the world, but you might need to explore a bit to find some things."

    "That''s cool as long as it''s fun!" I look around. "So we''ve got grassy fields and some trees?"

    "Plains," she says. "And you can see a mountain over there and an ocean over there. This is a seed with a decent start, provided by one of my viewers. I opted for that instead of a random one, to make things easier for your start. Before doing anything, though, join the voice group. That way, if we get separated, we can still talk."

    "Okay!"

    Aunt Rachel teaches me how to access the voice group, which I join.

    "Rachel," I deepen my voice. "Your time has come¡­ I am your nephew!"

    She''s probably rolling her eyes again, though maybe she''s saying something to her chat as well as her in-game microphone icon just got a slash through it.

    "Okay, Sig," she comes back. "The first thing we should do is get some tools. There are a few different ways you can do this. The first is by breaking some trees and crafting wooden tools, which you can then use to mine stone to make stone tools with. Or you can check out a village or other structure if there''s one nearby and see what they have. There can also be buried treasure and shipwrecks in water which might have ingots. You only have a limited amount of oxygen when swimming but if you see bubbles coming from something, you can go into them to regain some. If your oxygen reaches zero, you''ll start taking damage every second while still underwater."

    "Okay," I look around. "Oh! I see something in the distance over there! But the water''s closer! I wanna look pirate corpses!"

    "Alright!" Aunt Rachel laughs as I take off toward the water. "Though I don''t think those are pirate ships!"

    "Psh! They are now!"

    I reach the water and start swimming. I can see the wreckage of a ship not far away, half-buried on a sandy shore a little to the side. I probably could''ve just walked over to it, but why walk when I can swim?

    Upon reaching the shipwreck, I start looking for chests. There are sevenin total: one with metals and other ores; one with gems; one with foods; one with paper goods, ink, quills, books, and a map; one with potions; one with some leather armor; and a hidden one with a spell scroll in it.

    "Hey, Aunt Rachel!" I exclaim. "I found a spell scroll! Oh, using it taught me a spell! I now know [Arcane Blade]! Oh, cool, it breaks the blocks instantly! That was fun! Let''s go loot the village!"

    "Slow down, Sig!" She laughs. "You haven''t even made tools with your stuff yet. What did you get from the ores chest?"

    I pop out of the water and back onto the ground, then open my inventory up.

    "Fourteen iron ingots," I say. "Twenty-eight iron nuggets, twelve gold ingots, six gold nuggies, nineteen carbon chunks, thirty-four bronze ingots, and something called ''mystic essence''."

    "Not a bad haul," she says. "I did ask for an easy-start seed for your first play and they really went in on finding me one. I can see another shipwreck over there. Let me go loot it real quick. Stay right here."

    I follow her to the other shipwreck and watch as she loots it, then we loot a third one that''s a little bit further into the water than the first two. Once all three are looted, we return to shore and she grabs some wood from the half-beached shipwreck, then teaches me about making a crafting grid and using it to make gear.

    "But don¡¯t make anything yet," she says. "You can make steel, which is the fifth level of gear. It goes wooden or leather, copper, bronze, iron, steel. If we make a furnace, we can smelt the iron and carbon into steel ingots. The mystic essence can be used to enhance it, though we don''t have the stuff to do enhancements yet."

    "Okay!"

    We get to work on making a furnace, then on smelting some steel to make a full steel armor set for me to wear. There''s a setting which lets me show or hide the gear while it''s on my body, and I have it set to hide so that my skin is visible. The outfit is just too cute to cover up!

    Aunt Rachel says I should take all of the armor for now and she''ll get some on her own later. She also gives me a pickaxe, a sword, and a shield, as well as some food items.

    "Just in case," she says. "I want to loot the village, but you can do some exploring. If you go mining, you''ll be able to find some ores and stuff underground. Also, take this spell scroll. It gives you [Barrier], which enhances your body''s toughness. Your spells are only Level 1 right now but the more you use them, the more Experience they''ll gain and they''ll go up, improving in strength and lowering in cost. If you find Skill Cores, you can use those to improve the Levels, by spending as much as the next Level. So to reach Level 2, it''s two Skills Cores."

    "Got it!" I say. "I''m gonna mine! Go have fun looting the village! Leave no villager with stuff of their own!"

    "Keep an eye on your hunger as well," she tells me. "If it starts getting low and you''re out of food, come back up to the village. I''ll have food from there and a small farm set up by the time you get bored."

    "Aye aye, Captain!"

    I start digging down, eventually coming into a giant cavern. My descent takes me down into one of its walls, so I don''t fall¡­ but that makes me realize that I should start doing a spiral just in case fall damage is nasty in this game.

    "But at this point," I keep digging down, my mic muted so I can talk with my chat without bothering Aunt Rachel''s, and I think she''s doing the same. "I just wanna see how far down I go! It''s gotta have the better stuff lower down, right? Though maybe the monsters will get stronger the further down? But the ores¡­ THE ORES! They''re guaranteed to be better!"

    Eventually, I reach another cavern, this one illuminated by braziers with blue flames flickering in them. The circle is about a hundred blocks in diameter, and there are some chests set up at the other end, to either side of a stone pedestal with a small statue on it.

    "This. Is. AWESOME!"

    I start entering the circle of braziers, noticing as I do that my chat is telling me to run away.

    "Run away?" I ask. "Why-WHAT IS THAT?"

    The moment I entered the circle, the chests and pedestal vanished, the flames in the braziers grew bigger, and a monster appeared. This one has stone plates protecting some of its fleshy bits, and also some tentacles and horns. It looks horrifying and there''s an HP bar at the top of my screen, calling it the Lord of the Phantasm Cavern.

    Then it attacks me and takes out most of my HP.

    "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!"

    I can''t leave the circle, either! There''s some sort of invisible barrier!

    "Crap! Operation Survival! Operation Survival! Dodge! Dodge! Ha! How do you like that? Can''t take me out when I dance like that! Oh, crap, you can dodge, too? Hey! No dodging! That''s my thing!"

    The next time I feel like I''m going to miss dodging an attack, I use [Barrier], my HP already recovered thanks to passive regeneration and one of the potions from the shipwreck. It only reduces the damage by 5%, but that''s still a significant amount for something that can nearly one-shot me.

    Between [Barrier] and [Arcane Blade], I quickly run low on mana and I decided to only use [Barrier] as it recovers.

    My sword and armor eventually break and I manage to craft a new sword without getting hit. I don''t have enough steel for a new full armor set and I think missing even one piece means an instant death for me if I get hit, even with [Barrier]. Because of that, I switch to using [Arcane Blade] and my fists (once the second sword breaks).

    "No, no, no, no, no!" I exclaim. "Bad Phantasm! Bad! Let. This. Be. The. Fi. Nal. Blow. How. A. Bout. This. One? No? Come. On. And. Die. Al. Rea. Dy! May. Be. This. One. Will. Be. The. Fi. Nal. Blow. You. Must. IT DIED!"

    I lean back in my chair and let out a big breath of relief.

    "That was so intense!" I say. "Almost like when I fight against some pretty high-tier gamers in an FPS! I guess if I went in there with gear that was better than steel, it wouldn''t have taken me an hour and seventeen minutes, huh? Lemme check the loot!"

    I gather up the loot from the boss, then open up the chests that reappeared and loot the statue from the pedestal. The statue looks like a dragon, and I wanna put that in my house on here to represent Xander. I''m gonna have little things for all of my friends in my base in this game for sure!

    "Sig?" Aunt Rachel asks as I''m collecting my loot.

    "I just fought a really tough monster!" I say. "It probably would''ve been a lot easier if I had proper gear rather than just steel. It broke my armor and I broke my first sword, so I had to make a new one and-"

    "Sig," Aunt Rachel interrupts me, laughing a little. "I know. My chatters let me know you found a Lord of the Phantasm Cavern. The one who recommended this seed apologized and said she didn''t think we''d find that so fast."

    "It was super fun to fight!" I say. "Though I should probably go back up to sort out all of this loot before coming back down and looking for ores. I want to see how deep I can go and-"

    "Sig," Aunt Rachel says. "That''s an end mid-game mini-boss. I don''t think you''re supposed to be able to beat it while naked with just a steel sword and a couple of basic, Level 1 spells."

    "Really?" I ask. "Well, you know what they say! Ain''t nothing breaching this bastion! Lemme get back up there and you can tell me what the loot is!"

 Chapter 0069

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    All the fun I had playing World of Myst with Aunt Rachel last night is gone now. We''re on our way to¡­ somewhere, I don''t know where. Aunt Rachel said it''s to celebrate and she had my bring my outdoor play backpack, but I don''t know where we''re going. Or care, really.

    My parents really don''t love me. They really don''t want me. They even said that to the judge. I really shouldn''t be feeling this awful over it, but why don''t they love me? I''ve tried being the best I can be and they don''t want me.

    The judge didn''t even go through all three binders of evidence the dads brought for the hearing. I don''t blame her, they weren''t thin ones at all and they were full of pictures, screenshots, texts, receipts, and more. There was even a flash drive with video footage ¨C the dads apparently sneakily recorded them stocking the fridge and cabinets whenever they showed up with food for me, showing that things were completely empty when my parents weren''t home.

    Including when there was a note on the fridge beside the grocery list.

    I didn''t know they made those recordings. I also didn''t know my parents were back. They''ve apparently been back since Monday. Aunt Rachel says that they''d texted her to let her know they were going to be gone for longer and she let them know that they needed to be back by Monday at the latest and there was a court hearing on Friday.

    They apparently came back, but never even said hi to me.

    It feels like we''ve been driving for awhile now, and I still can''t bring myself to be happy over getting to live with Aunt Rachel and not having to buy most of my own food.

    "We''re here," Aunt Rachel says. "Come on, Sig. You''ll cheer up fast, I promise."

    "Whatever," I mumble and get out of the car.

    Within seconds, I''m tackled to the ground by something big, fluffy, and a little bit wet. It''s a large dog with blue-clear fur and blue skin with a faint green hue. Around his paws and ears, water "flows" off of them in a sort of wiggle-bubble pattern, smaller drops pulling away from them before vanishing.

    "Bubbly!" I giggle as he licks me. "Get off of me, Bubbly! Stop licking me! Wait! Bubbly?"

    Bubbly is one of Carter''s family''s dogs. He''s here?

    A sharp whistle sounds out and Bubbly gets off of me and trots over to Carter, who''s sitting in the grass about twenty feet away, dressed in jeans, his boots, and a brownish-red button-up that''s tucked into his pants. In addition to that, he''s wearing a black belt around his waist and a black cowboy hat with a flame-like pattern around the band atop his head.

    Sitting beside Carter is Tate, who''s dressed similarly, though his shirt''s a more pinkish-purple one and his hat is a deep purple. That outfit looks good on him.

    "Come here, you big goof," Carter messes with Bubbly''s head as the dog takes a seat beside him, and he looks at me. "Hey, S.G.!"

    "No wonder the ride felt so long," I say as we all stand and walk forward, giving fist bumps when we reach each other. "Wait. Aunt Rachel?"

    "I told you," she smiles. "It''s something that''s going to cheer you up."

    But this? I know she''s not really comfortable with them because of their ability to use mind magics, so her bringing me out here for this is just incredible. So much so that I give her a big hug before returning to my friends.

    "We only found out after you were on your way here," Tate tells me. "But were sworn to secrecy!"

    "Figured we''d have Bubbly out here to give you a lick attack on arrival," Carter tells me. "Your aunt''s paying for trail rides for the two of you, and I''m gonna be the guide!"

    "You''re allowed to do that?" I ask.

    "As of this summer!" He puffs up his chest.

    "With your dad or brother present," Tate adds.

    "Well, yeah," Carter says. "But it''s still me doing the actual guide work! Also, I know you don''t have riding clothes ¨C that''s fine! You can borrow a change of mine, we''re the same size. The friend special! Come on, let''s go to the office! I''ve already got them in there!"

    We head to the first building here, the one right off the parking lot. Mrs. Martins is in the reception room when we enter, and she gives me a big smile when she sees me.

    "Afternoon, S.G.," she says. "Been quite awhile. How''ve you been?"

    "A lot has happened."

    "I''ve heard," she chuckles. "Carter said he''s letting you borrow some of his riding clothes, you boys can go get changed now, then head to the barn."

    "Yes, ma''am!" Carter salutes, then we head past his mom and into one of the changing rooms here, where the outfit''s already set out. "Here you go! And that''s a spare pair of boots but they''re broken in, so your feet should be fine."

    The outfit''s almost the same as theirs is, except the shirt is reddish-orange and the hat matches his own.

    "Oh, and the hat''s new," Tate adds. "I bought it before coming over and they altered it for the ranch''s design."

    "Why?" I ask as I start changing.

    "For you!" He grins. "To celebrate!"

    It''s a gift for me? That''s pretty awesome and makes me feel happy in a weird way.

    "Thanks, man!" I give him a half-hug. "It''s pretty cool!"

    I finish changing outfits, then slip the hat on and give my best smug look, but that just sends the three of us into a fit of laughter.

    "By the way," Carter says once we calm down. "We do have someone else coming from Dragon Falls for trail rides. We got a call during asking about booking a slot for them."

    "Really?" I ask. "I know you guys do rides on Fridays during summer, too, but two groups from Dragon Falls?" I narrow my gaze at him. "They aren''t my friends, are they? That''d be an awesome surprise."

    "It''s not," he snorts. "Dad''s going to take them, it''s a rich kid named Lucas Gates. He comes out here usually two or three times a summer, though this is his first time this year. Which is weird, but I guess he''s just been really busy."

    Lucas Gates? If I remember correctly, he''s the one who normally hangs out during Xander''s classes so that he''s not alone.

    "His friend''s coming out, right?" Tate asks. "Parker, was it?"

    "Parker always comes out," Carter tells him. "It''s a group of five this time, so there''s someone else aside from them and Luke''s dad. Maybe his mom? Or one of Parker''s parents? Maybe both, since it''s two more."

    "I know Parker," I say. "He''s a cool kid and hangs out with us at the park sometimes. Come on! Let''s go ride horses!"

    We leave the office building and head to the barn where the horses available for riding are. In the prep area are several horses already, including both Tate''s and Carter''s.

    Carter''s horse is a flaremane, with a coal-black pelt and blue-and-white flames for a mane and tail, more flames drifting off his feet the same way water drifts off of Bubbly''s. It''s a gorgeous horse and I''ve kind of always been a little jealous that he gets his own¡­ but he literally lives on a flaremane horse ranch, so he kind of has an unfair advantage in that regard.

    Though Carter''s horse isn''t a "standard" flaremane, but a high breed. Normal flaremanes ¨C like what Aunt Rachel and I will be riding ¨C have orange, yellow, and red flames. They''re still pretty awesome, though, and I love riding them regardless!

    Tate''s horse has a deep purple pelt with a faint pink hue to it, mostly seen when the light catches it just right. His mane and tail are both pink with a faint purple hue to them, mostly seen when the light catches them just right. Much like the flaremanes, it''s a magic breed. Thoughtwalls are a specialized breed of horse that was developed just for people who deal with beasts that use mind magics ¨C such as mindwave cattle.

    Since his horse is here, that means he probably rode the big guy over. Did he ride to the store to buy the hat, too? The drive from Dragon Falls to here takes a few hours so he definitely had the time for that.

    Much like Carter, Tate gets his own horse because of his family. They actually raise thoughtwalls on their ranch, in addition to the mindwave cattle, but they aren''t open to the public.

    I kind of wish I had one of those, too, but I know I can''t. Both breeds require a lot of special attention so they''re not something someone can just have. With me living so far away, I doubt I could really make use of my own horse, only riding him on a rare occasion. They also probably cost quite a lot to care for, too.

    "Since your aunt''s never ridden before," Carter says as we reach the horses. "She''s going to get taught the basics and allowed to ride in the beginner''s pen for a little bit to get a feel for it."

    "Hi, Mr. Martins!" I call as Carter''s dad enters the barn with another horse.

    "Hey, S.G.," he says. "You boys getting ready to go out?"

    "Nah," Carter answers. "We gotta get his aunt riding a horse before we can go."

    "And here I am," Aunt Rachel says, and we turn to see that she''s changed into riding gear, though she''s not wearing a hat. "What do we do now?"

    "Saddle up!" I answer.

    "A bit more than that," Carter snorts. "I''ll show you."

    We prepare the horses for riding, then mount them. Collin, Carter''s seventeen-year-old brother, comes out and supervises and prepares and mounts his own horse. One thing I notice is that Aunt Rachel looks nervous about the guns that Carter and Collin have fixed onto their saddles.

    Ma''am, you are riding a horse with a flaming mane. Yes, it''s only a force of light right now, but it can turn it into real flames and incinerate you. Precautionary guns for some wildlife is nothing. And it''s not like Carter and Collin can''t actually handle things without the guns, those are just for "just in case", and I''ve never learned what that is.

    Ready to ride, we go out to the practice pen so Aunt Rachel can get a feel for riding. Just as Carter announces that she''s ready for a trail, the other group comes out. It really is Lucas Gates and Parker, along with another boy our age and Lucas''s dad, with Mr. Martins riding with them as well as a man I don''t recognize but am assuming is the other boy''s dad.

    They do look similar.

    "Hi, Parker!" I wave to him.

    "Hi, S.G.," he greets me as they get near. "You''re out here?"

    "Yup!" I answer. "Tate and Carter are my friends, and I usually come out here once a summer. Hadn''t yet, and Aunt Rachel decided we''d go riding to celebrate something. You guys?"

    "That''s me!" Lucas says. "I usually come out a few times a summer, but got busy with stuff this one and hadn''t managed it yet. Then Parker, Tyler, and I were talking while waiting for the military to show up yesterday and it made me realize I hadn''t been out here yet. This is Tyler," he gestures to the boy I don''t know, then to the unfamiliar man. "And his dad!"

    "Waiting for the military to show up?" Carter asks.

    "Huh?" Lucas looks confused for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Some organization keeps trying to either kidnap or kill me. That''s twice they''ve sent golems after me. Will have to wait until the military finishes interrogating them to find out what''s going on."

    "You''re so nonchalant about getting attacked¡­" Aunt Rachel trails off.

    "Yeah," I say. "You''re not worried they''re gonna try again?"

    "Please," Lucas rolls his eyes. "If they were a group that actually had the ability to take me on, there''d be a concern. They''ve already proven they can''t. At most, they''re just annoying me. Ended up taking forever to get to where we were going yesterday because of them and having to deal with the military! But that''s not for today! Today, we''re having fun! Let''s ride!"

    They head off with Mr. Martins while we take a different trail with Carter and his brother. As we go, I try to see if there are any magic animals wandering around in the woods we go through. I don''t spot much, but I do spot some fish whose scales shimmer and shift between blues and greens as they swim.

    "Those taste so good," I tell Aunt Rachel. "At least, I remember them being so good. I haven''t had them since I stopped the week-long visits."

    "They are good," Carter agrees. "Their scales are useful in making a few things, too, so we''ve had to deal with poachers trying to catch them here. You can''t find them in many places and we''ve got a decent population on the property."

    "How do you deal with that?" Aunt Rachel asks.

    "Depends on who you ask," Carter grins.

    "There are some pretty good security enchantments on the property boundary," Collin tells us. "If they don''t stop someone, they sound an alarm and put tracking magic on the person. We''re able to find you anywhere, and these boys," he pats the neck of his mount. "Can run pretty fast when we ask them to. Most poachers aren''t willing to deal with someone with a gun on a flaming mount and the few who do quickly learn that magic beast ranchers tend to be pretty strong. Then they learn that there''s a pretty hefty fine and even jail time for poaching."

    "Collin and I are allowed to fish here, though," Carter adds. "It''s our family''s property. And guests can if they have a fishing license."

    "Though since I''m under sixteen," Tate says. "I don''t need one since under-sixteens don''t for fishing here. In this state, I mean. Just need permission from the owner!"

    "Oh!" I remember something. "Do you still have the picture of the one we caught last time? In the lake?"

    "It''s hung up on the wall in my room!" Tate nods. "That thing was huge!"

    We talk more about the fish for a little bit, then return to trying to spot other magical animals in the woods. After about forty-five minutes, the barns come into view once more.

    "This was pretty fun," I tell Tate and Carter as we make our way toward them. "It was nice seeing you again so soon!"

    "Yeah!" Tate says. "You coming out here again was pretty cool! Was starting to doubt it for this summer."

    "Speaking of that," Aunt Rachel says. "We''re not out here for just this evening."

    "What do you mean?" I ask.

    "We''re returning home on Sunday," she tells me. "And I already got permission from the Coxes and Martinses for you to stay with them tonight and tomorrow."

    "Seriously?"

    I know she''s not comfortable because of the mind magics and this is beyond anything I''d hoped for. She''s willing to let me stay the night here as part of a celebration, and I absolutely love it! It''s been so long since I stayed the night here and while I''ll miss out on hanging out with my friends for the weekend, it''s going to be totally worth it.

    "Seriously," she answers.

    "Awesome!" I pump my fists up into the air. "Wait, I don''t have a change of clothes for tomorrow or Sunday."

    "I packed a bag for you," she tells me. "I''ll grab it from the car after we dismount."

    When did she do that?

    "If he''s staying the night," Carter says. "Then we can go out to the lake and catch some fish for dinner! Hey, Collin! Let''s get the fishing rods!"

    "Why use a rod?" Collin asks. "You just use your magic to catch."

    "Because it''s fun!" Carter and Tate exclaim.

    "Also," Carter adds. "S.G. can''t do that."

    "Not yet," I say. "But one day¡­ I''ll use magic to catch a bigger fish than any of you!"

    "Alright," Collin rolls his eyes as he responds to us before we can start goofing around, then he looks at Aunt Rachel. "I''ll get one of the hands to help you with the finish, those three look ready to burst out of desire to head to the lake."

    "The horses can go back out this soon?" She asks.

    "These are pretty high-quality magic beast breeds," Carter says before his brother can respond. "Their stamina and endurance are nothing compared to a normal horse. We can ride ''em on mountain trails all day and they''ll be fine! Oh! We should probably grab our bags to pack some stuff for the lake. Like more food and drinks so that we don''t just have trail mix and fish."

    "Already in your saddlebags," Collin says. "Mom informed me ahead of time that S.G. was going to stay with either use or the Coxes for the weekend and that y''all''d want to go to the lake upon finding out. I put everything we''ll need for that in the saddlebags while you were meeting up with S.G. Alan! Come help Rachel here with the finish. Rachel, you can just drop the bag off at the office."

    Aunt Rachel lets out a small shout when she notices how close I''d gotten while Collin was talking. I''m not close enough to risk an injury, but I did get fairly close.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "See you, Aunt Rachel!" I tell her. "And thanks so much! It''s gonna be so fun!"

    Since we''re good to go, the four of us guys head back onto the trails, nearing the lake after about an hour. It''s one of their longer trails, and the part of the lake we''re going to is actually hidden from view ¨C it''s below a cliff and we have to leave the trail to go to it. As for the trail itself, it''s about fifty yards from the cliff and only half of the lake can be seen from it.

    Thank goodness we''re that far from it. I don''t like getting too near to the edge from up here, and they avoid doing that on the horses just in case probably for the same reason.

    Once we reach the lake, we dismount and remove the gear from the horses, which are allowed to roam free here ¨C all of the ones we were riding are good about staying near their set location.

    Collin opens up the saddlebags from his saddle, and he really did pack a lot of stuff for us to be able to come and swim and cook at the lake. The bags themselves have spatial expansion enchantments on them, and he was even able to bring a grill!

    "You packed fishing poles!" Carter exclaims while looking through his own saddlebags, causing his brother to laugh.

    "I had a feeling you''d ask for them," Collin chuckles. "You three have fun swimming. We''ll catch some fish to cook in about an hour or so, alright?"

    He doesn''t need to tell us twice and within five minutes, Tate, Carter, and I are in the lake, splashing each other with its cool, crystal-clear, and pretty pure waters. The magic of the lake keeps the waters clean no matter which, which means it''s safe to swim in, cook with, even drink without any additional treatment.

    It also means it stings our eyes a little if we open them while underwater since it''s not salty, but I love doing that and take a look around while trying not to giggle at the goofy faces Tate is making.

    Even after we get out and dry off and catch some fish to cook, Collin doesn''t seem to be in any hurry to make us leave, even after we eat dinner.

    "Shouldn''t we have started heading back by now?" I ask. "It''ll take awhile to get back and the trails will start getting dark if we take too long. Won''t that make it dangerous, since the horses won''t be able to see as well on the trails?"

    "Oh, right," Collin grins as both Tate and Carter realize that we really should be heading back. "The ''rents said if y''all wanted to camp out here tonight, we can. It''s a clear night with no rain so we can sleep under the stars, or I''ve got tents in my saddlebags we can set up. I figured y''all''d want to camp, so didn''t bother mentioning it."

    "Camping!" I pump my fists up into the air. "Let''s do that! Tate! Carter! What do you wanna do?"

    "Let''s camp!" They say.

    "No tent," Tate says. "Did you bring bedrolls, though? Or are we sleeping on the bare ground?"

    "Up to y''all," Collin says. "But I did bring stuff for s''mores, too. When I said I packed everything we''d need for tonight, I meant it. That includes changes of clothes for y''all for the morning, too."

    There''s zero way I''m going to tell Aunt Rachel about what we do¡­ she''ll probably freak out if she finds out that we went swimming in the dark and there''s no way we''re not going to.

    Tonight is going to be amazing!

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years] ¡ú starts during Sig''s PoV.

    "-and I was just so excited and before I knew it, there were twenty of them and I was running late," I finish explaining why I didn''t show up on time. "And I didn''t want to leave things a mess, so I cleaned up my tools first, too. Even with accelerated time, that did take a few minutes. So I''m sorry for being bad and not back on time, Trey."

    Here''s hoping I''m not in too much trouble and Trey doesn''t cancel the trip.

    "So that''s why you took so long returning from Greyson''s workshop?" Trey asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Well, you''re not in trouble," he says. "The leave time was flexible."

    "So I''m not in trouble?"

    "Correct."

    "But I''m an hour late."

    "I did say you could come back later than that," Trey says. "The latest time I said was five, remember?"

    "But isn''t Russell coming, too?"

    "He is," Trey tells me. "But his dad said they''ll wait for us."

    This is so confusing but I don''t think I''ll be able to understand if even if I keep trying to get clarification.

    "Oh. Okay."

    "Did you pack clothes for the weekend?" Trey asks.

    "Yes," I answer. "Also extra clothes and Mr. Leviathan and plenty of snacks."

    "Alright," he says. "Let''s get going."

    "Are we taking the truck today?" I ask as we walk toward the garage. "Or still the SUV?"

    "Did you want to take the truck?" Trey asks.

    "I don''t know," I tell him. "But we''re going out to the country, right? Don''t they drive pickup trucks there? There''s gotta be a reason for that, right?"

    Trey snorts for some reason.

    "We can take the truck," he says. "Come on."

    For the ride out to Autumn Hills, I listen to the sound of waterfalls on my headphones while doing some programming tweaks on my magitech development laptop. We''re going to Autumn Hills instead of Autumn Vale because they have a better hotel and Trey only wants the best. The two towns are next to each other, though, so I don''t think it really matters.

    "You looked pretty thoughtful there," Trey says as I pull off my headphones when he parks. "Confused?"

    "No," I answer. "Well, a little. This isn''t a hotel, is it? It''s a restaurant."

    This definitely looks like a restaurant to me.

    "It''s past seven in the evening," he says. "So we''re going to get dinner before heading to the hotel. There''s a decent population of mages around here due to the numerous magic beast ranches in the area, so there are a more than few restaurants which cater to them. This is one of them and with how much magic you''ve done over the past few days, I felt you could use it for the recovery boost."

    "Oh," I say. "Thank you. I''ve been doing my best to stay full of food with magical ingredients so that my recovery is faster. But then I went and used a bunch of time magic again yesterday and today. Thank goodness Greyson decided it''s okay for me to have his mana potions. He put a bunch of them in my zone at his workshop. I had two whole bottles before returning home and that wasn''t enough for me to recover all the way. Or even halfway."

    "Don''t over-cast," Trey tells me. "I''m not sure if there will be negative effects from that."

    "I''ll try not to," I tell him.

    "Alright," he says. "So want to share what had you confused?"

    "Oh, I wasn''t confused," I put my laptop back into my backpack, then pull Trenton out. "Not fully. More¡­ uh¡­ not confusion but still not unconfused. About what to do?"

    "Indecisive?"

    "Yeah, that!" I say. "Indecisive! So Grandpa Adrian said I could do what I wanted for the demonstration tomorrow, as long as Mr. Milton and his workers got a good look at the functionality of the AR set, right? And so I was thinking, there''s no better way to do that than to have actual kids play the game. Like, my friends and me. I know Russell was coming along just because you suggested I invite him so that I''ve got another kid to hang out with, but Carter lives in the area. He''s also a streamer, and I was thinking I could stream the demonstration as well, so that it could demonstrate the streaming abilities of the set. And if it was two different streamers doing that, that''d be more effective, right?

    "But," I continue. "S.G.''s out here to hang out with Carter and Tate as a celebration for getting away from his neglectful and abusive parents. And I don''t want to interrupt that. But then at the same time, I also know that S.G. would probably love to play the game. And so would Connor, Sam, and Isaac, who are going to be meeting up with them in the morning."

    Except no one is allowed to tell S.G. that bit as it''s a surprise. Connor, Sam, and Isaac keep sending messages in the chat and I think it''s them attempting to not let S.G. know there''s a surprise. A lot of their conversations seem even more random than usual, and they aren''t posting any pictures at all. Just images of memes from the internet, and it''s never just those.

    They often include pictures they take as well when talking this much. I would be very suspicious, but I guess S.G. isn''t. If he''s figured it out, he''s definitely not saying.

    "So I want to invite them," I say. "But at the same time, I don''t want to interrupt their fun."

    "Xander," Trey says, but then doesn''t say anything else.

    Does he want something, or did he change his mind? I can''t figure it out. Better to ask.

    "Yes, Mr. Trey?"

    "You can still invite them," he says. "They might say ''no'', but you never know ¨C S.G. and Carter might enjoy coming to hang out and play your game."

    "Okay," I say. "Um¡­ can I do that before we go in?"

    "Sure."

    I pull out my phone and call Carter. He gave me his number and asked for mine on Sunday, for potential future collaborations for if he wants to while back in the Dragon Falls area again. But maybe it counts for if I come out to his area?

    "Hi, Xander!" Carter answers the call on the second ring. Is that a fire I hear? "What''s up, man?"

    "I''m a boy," I say. "Not a man. And I''m in Autumn Hills right now and will be doing a demonstration of my augmented reality stuff for a company tomorrow in Autumn Vale. Mostly, its gaming capabilities. It''s at ten in the morning, at the Dream Best Entertainment ''live gaming zone'', as they''re calling it. It''s okay to stream it if you''d like. The game itself is a first-person shooter that mixes laser tag and zombie apocalypse aspects, where you go around shooting zombies in the game. I know you''re hanging out with S.G. this weekend, so I''ll understand if you decline. I just thought I''d invite you just in case. And S.G. and Tate can come as well. I''m going to ask S.G. as well, but I don''t have Tate''s number so I can''t ask him."

    "I can ask both!" Carter says. "S.G.! Tate! Xander''s apparently doing some testing for his augmented reality set tomorrow at ten! It''s a first-person zombie shooter. He wants to know if we''d like to come! Streaming allowed!"

    "I don''t want to head back to Dragon Falls yet," S.G. says in the background. "I don''t think Aunt Rachel would want to go there and then come back, either."

    "He''s doing it in Autumn Vale!" Carter tells him. "At the place where I did that freerunning video I showed you! Apparently, the demonstration is for Dream Best Entertainment!"

    "Oh!" S.G. exclaims. "Yeah! I''d love to go, then! Can you tell him that?"

    "Same," Tate says. "If y''all are going, so am I."

    "They both said they want to go," Carter tells me. "And I already know the location! I did a recording there not long ago! You said it''s at ten?"

    "Yeah," I answer.

    "Then we''ll be there!" He says. "See you tomorrow, Xander!"

    "Bye, Carter," I say, then hang up and look at Trey. "Okay. They said they want to come."

    "Alright," he chuckles. "Let''s go get food."

    I nod, then we exit the truck and head into the restaurant. It''s a burger place that really caters to the mage population of the area, and they even use beef from Tate''s family''s farm, so it''s a higher breed of magic cattle. Pretty much all of their ingredients are sourced in similar ways ¨C higher breeds of crops and beasts ¨C so the food will probably taste really good to me.

    When we enter the small lobby of the restaurant, Russell and his parents are waiting inside. Something about Russell is different. Not just how good his outfit looks, but it''s like he''s got an energy inside of him that I don''t normally feel.

    "Hi, Xander!" Russell holds out a fist.

    "Hi, Russell," I say as I bump his fist with a fist of my own, then with one of Trenton''s paws. "Can I give you a hug?"

    "Sure!"

    I give Russell a hug, and he pats me on the back for a moment.

    "Guess what?" Russell asks.

    "Dragon butt."

    That just came out and I don''t know why, but before I can apologize, Russell just starts laughing while his parents and Trey chuckle.

    "No, no dragon butts here," Russell tells me. "But Dad told his work that he noticed how unhappy I was with having to move again so either they were keeping him here or he was getting a new job. So we''re not moving anymore!"

    "Really?" I ask. "That''s awesome," I look down at Trenton for a moment, then back to Russell while moving Trenton''s paws in a clapping motion. "Trenton agrees."

    "Yeah!" Russell nods, then suddenly fidgets a little. "So. Um. Since I''m not moving anymore, um¡­ do you wanna date?"

    "Yeah."

    "Just remember the rules I went over with you," Trey tells me.

    "I''ll do my best."

    Of course I will. I want to get to hang out with Russell more and not get told I can''t invite him to hang out with me and my other friends, or that I can''t text him anymore. Or sit by him when eating. I don''t understand why some of the rules exist, but I''ll still try my best to follow them.

    "Same with you," Russell''s mom ruffles his hair a little. "Okay?"

    "Yeah!" Russell nods.

    "Let''s let them know the full party''s here," Trey says.

    Ten minutes later, we''re sitting at a table and looking over the menu options. I''m sitting at the end of the table, with Russell on my right, and the adults are sitting on the other side of it from us.

    There are so many choices on the menu, but most of them aren''t interesting to me. I just want mozzarella sticks, onion rings, fries, and a plain cheeseburger. Just¡­ three cheeseburgers, each with their side of fries, but also an extra four sides of fries, and extra two servings of mozzarella sticks, and an extra two servings of onion rings. That should be enough to fill me.

    The waitress doesn''t seem surprised at all by the quantity of food I order, but I think that''s because I''m not the only mage who comes here. I''m probably ordering more than she''s used to seeing someone order, but she''s probably just assuming I''m a powerful mage.

    I do share one of my mozzarella sticks and one of my onion rings with Russell, but he mostly eats fried pickles for his appetizer, sharing them with the adults.

    When we finish eating dinner, we''re served dessert and I order a slice of key lime pie and two slices of strawberry cheesecake. Russell seems indecisive and wants to order the chocolate cake, but goes with cheesecake.

    "Not a bad choice," I whisper to him. "Cheesecake beats chocolate in every way except chocolatiness, and that''s not something that''s good to be the best in."

    "You don''t like chocolate?" The waitress asks.

    I must have only lowered my voice instead of whispered.

    "Chocolate is nasty," I tell her. "And evil. I don''t want to even touch something that touched chocolate."

    "Alright," she says. "Then I''ll note down not to send some with your cheesecake."

    "The menu doesn''t say it comes with chocolate."

    "It''s not on the cheesecake," she says. "But we normally give a condiment cup with chocolate sauce, in case the guest would like to pour it on themselves. No extra charge for that."

    "Oh," I say. "Please don''t give me that, and thank you."

    "Same, and thanks," Russell says.

    "You''re welcome," she smiles, then takes the adults'' dessert orders.

    When the dessert comes out, there''s no chocolate sauce on my plates or Russell''s, and the cheesecake is amazingly delicious. I''m not really fond of the key lime pie, but I still eat the whole thing.

    Trey pays for everyone''s food once we''re done eating, then we head to the hotel. I think he rented the room Russell''s parents are staying in, too. Part of the reason Russell was invited was so that I wasn''t doing the demonstration completely by myself so it''d make sense that his parents'' room is covered for the trip as well.

    "Oh," I say as we enter the hotel''s lobby. "Hi, Luke."

    Luke is here with Parker and Tyler, all three of them wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and button-up shirts. Luke''s shirt is maroon, Parker''s is orange, and Tyler''s is brown. Luke''s dad and Tyler''s dad are both here, but Luke''s mom and Parker''s parents aren''t.

    "It was you!" Luke exclaims as Trey heads over to the reception desk. "I thought I was feeling your electrical signals, but I wasn''t completely sure. What brings you here?"

    "I''m doing a product demonstration tomorrow," I tell him. "This is Russell and those are his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson."

    "The hoverboard?" Luke asks. "It''s so much fun to ride on!"

    "No," I shake my head. "Augmented reality glasses and gear. The demonstration will act as a beta test as well. Do you want to join? It''s for a first-person shooter game I developed. Though it''s okay if you''re busy."

    Even if I don''t really feel comfortable with Luke because of how noisy he is, that doesn''t mean I can''t invite him to join us. The more people who are testing the equipment, the better. And I trust him to not break things or try to abuse them or me. He already has his own work and he does a lot of testing there, too.

    Mostly, I want Tyler to join us, if he''s willing. As a monster hunter, he''ll probably have insight into what''s good with the game''s design. I think.

    Hunting monsters isn''t the same as playing a video game, but there might be overlap. That''s why I want to see if he''ll join us.

    "Sure!" Luke looks at Parker and Tyler. "What about you guys? Wanna stay a bit longer than just ''till breakfast?"

    "Sure," Parker shrugs.

    "A first-person shooter?" Tyler asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Like a combination between that, a zombie shooter, and laser tag. Except it''s augmented reality rather than laser tag or on a TV. You wear special glasses and use a special gun."

    "That sounds pretty cool," he says. "Sure, I don''t mind. Will be a big difference from hunting down monsters, I''m sure."

    "Thanks," I say. "It''s at the Dream Best Entertainment live gaming zone that they''re setting up in Autumn Hill. I''ll text you the address, Luke."

    "Cool!" Luke says. "Want to hang out tonight?"

    "I want to save my tolerance for you for tomorrow."

    Oops. I said that out loud.

    "Oh," he says. "Okay! I''ll see you tomorrow, then! Come on, guys! Now let''s go to the pool!"

    They leave, and I look at Russell, who looks upset for some reason.

    "What''s wrong?" I ask.

    "You called me your friend."

    "Because you are."

    "But I''m your boyfriend now."

    "You''re also that."

    "But you introduced me as your friend."

    That was a problem?

    "One of the rules Trey gave me for dating was that I''m not allowed to publicize when I''m in a relationship," I tell him. "That''s why. He said it''s a safety issue, because someone who wants to try and manipulate me might go after my boyfriend, even if they''ll leave my friends alone."

    That didn''t make any sense to me, but he''s an adult who owns and runs a security company, so he probably knows what he''s talking about. Though I did make a pretty clear threat with my time magic use the other day, I think, so I don''t think it''s a problem.

    It''s not like I want to go around telling people I''m dating. All it means is that I want to be closer to Russell now, like sitting next to him when we eat and inviting him to hang out more when I''m with my other friends.

    "Oh," he looks calmer now.

    "That''s not what I meant," Trey looks over. "It''s okay to tell your friends, if you feel comfortable doing so. I was referring to posting about it online or talking about it in streams."

    "Oh," I say. "Well. Luke''s not my friend."

    Trey snorts as he looks back to the receptionist.

    "He''s not?" Russell asks. "But you invited him to join us."

    "Yeah," I nod. "And I invited Carter and Tate, and they aren''t my friends, either. It''ll give us more people to test with during the demonstration, and Luke already knows how to test things since he does it for his family''s company, and Tyler''s a monster hunter. And I know that Luke and Parker play games a lot, too. So I should be able to get lots of useful feedback."

    "Oh."

    We wait for Trey to finish checking in, then he comes over with some keycards, handing each of us one.

    "Our suite is on the third floor," he tells us; there are only three floors. "Let''s go up there now."

    There aren''t any rooms on the first floor, and all of the suites are on the third floor. I don''t want to sleep on the third floor, but I think I can manage it for two nights. If not, Trey promised he''d find a reputable hotel with rooms on the first floor for me to stay at.

    The suite itself has four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. There''s also a living room, dining room, kitchen, extra bathroom, main room closet, and a balcony with a view of the hotel''s back garden and the pool. Luke, Parker, and Tyler are goofing around in the pool, along with a few other kids who are in there right now.

    Apparently, Russell and his parents aren''t getting separate rooms, they''re staying in the suite with us.

    Trey claims one of the bedrooms for himself, while Mr. and Mrs. Jackson take another one. Russel and I are allowed to have the other two rooms, and he lets me pick the one I want, then puts his things in the other.

    It''s starting to get late, so I start to wind down for bed. Russell comes to my room as I''m debating if I should wear my new usual sleepwear or my old usual. Both are an option, but I can''t decide. Maybe I should just go with the old usual, since a lot more is covered in it and there are others around.

    "What. Is. That?" He seems amazed by something.

    "What is what?" I ask.

    "The big plushie!" He answers.

    I look over at Mr. Leviathan, who''s sitting on the bed.

    "That''s Mr. Leviathan," I tell Russell. "I sleep snuggling him now. He''s very comfortable. Want to feel him?"

    "Sure," Russell answers, and I pick up Mr. Leviathan so Russell can feel him. "Whoa! He''s so soft!"

    "He is, yeah," I nod. "I like him a lot. Um. Did you want something?"

    Please don''t think I''m being rude, I''m just curious since he came to my room.

    "Oh!" He says. "Yeah! Just wanted to talk a bit before bed?"

    That sounds serious.

    "Um¡­ what did you want to talk about?"

    "Anything!" He answers.

    So it''s not serious? Or maybe this is just him trying to warm me up before the serious talk.

    "Oh," I set Mr. Leviathan back onto the bed, then climb up and pat the spot next to me. "Make sure to take off your shoes before getting on the bed."

    Russell takes off his shoes, then climbs up onto the bed and sits next to me.

    "Do you like making magitech?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "It''s fun to do, especially when I manage to solve a problem or complete a piece. I like to reward myself, too. I decided that after completing a project, I''m going to reward myself with a cheesecake. Or at least, a major part of a project. So getting the AR set ready for testing got me a cheesecake. And getting the game ready for testing and the demonstration also earned me a cheesecake. Oh, but not normal cheesecakes. These ones are special, made with magic ingredients and filled with blueberries, strawberries, and sprinkles, then drizzled with berry cream cheese icing and caramel sauce and topped with more sprinkles. That makes it celebratory instead of just a flavored cheesecake."

    "That¡­ sounds like an interesting combination," he says.

    "I love it," I tell him. "Is it my turn to ask a question?"

    "We''re not taking turns," he snorts. "Just¡­ talking. Did you have something you wanted to ask, though?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "You do a lot of art, right? Do you want to be an artist when you''re older?"

    "Nah," he answers. "I want to be an enchanter, actually. But enchanting requires making clean lines, and drawing, carving, and painting runes has overlap with art. When I first started wanting to be an enchanter a few years ago, my parents told me to try drawing first, to help me learn how."

    "Drawing helps with enchanting?" I ask. "Oh, I guess it would. So do you just wanna make magic items? Or magitech?"

    "Magic items," he answers. "But I haven''t done any yet. Kind of nervous to, I guess? There''s a class at DFHS for enchanting, so I''ll take it then. That''s probably when I''ll give it a try."

    "Well," I say. "You''re really good at art. I still think you should''ve won the contest, but I guess a kraken beats fruit. Kind of makes sense when you think about it. Fruit can''t really fight."

    "What''s a kraken?"

    "A giant sea monster that looks kind of like an octopus," I tell him. "That''s what Travis drew, a kraken. You haven''t heard of them?"

    "No," he answers. "Do they have magic?"

    "Oh, yeah, lots," I answer. "That''s why you can''t really fly or sail across the Pacific Ocean ¨C it''s full of krakens and they attack ships and planes that try. You know those stories you''ve told me about? Like where there''s a giant plastic trash heap in the Pacific Ocean? I bet the krakens would try to invade the land if that happened in the real world."

    "That''d be scary," he says. "What kind of powers do they have?"

    "Water manipulation and generation," I answer. "Acid as well, sonic waves, and, um¡­ something else I can''t remember. They also have a very far range. Can shoot their water and acid for miles. So if fruit had magical powers and minds and could fight, they''d have to be some really powerful fruit. We''d probably not be able to eat them at all."

 Chapter 0070

    <u>[Xander ¨C 12 years]</u>

    "I''m sorry, sir."

    Russell and I just left the room I''m using while here, and his parents and Trey are in the living room of the suite.

    "For what?" Trey looks at me when I apologize. "Why do you look so mopey?"

    I don''t remember what that means, but asking isn''t important right now because I really messed up and broke the rules.

    "Russell and I fell asleep while talking," I tell him. "And I didn''t get permission for a sleepover. And you said I''m not allowed to have solo sleepovers with anyone I''m dating until I''m at least fourteen years old and have been dating them at least six months. So I was a really bad boy. I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to be bad!"

    I don''t know why he has that rule, but he put it in place so it''s got to be really, really, really important.

    "You''re not in trouble," Trey tells me.

    "But I broke the rules!" I say. "And on the first day that we were dating, too! That was Very Bad! I''m sorry! I''ll take whatever punishment you give me as long as it''s not painful! Please don''t beat me!"

    "Once again," Trey says. "You''re not in trouble. And once again, I''m never going to beat you as a punishment. Grounding you will be how it happens, if you ever get punished."

    "Why aren''t I in trouble?" I ask. "I broke the rules!"

    "Because it was clear it wasn''t intentional," Trey tells me. "An accidental violation like that isn''t worthy of punishment. The two of you were sleeping in a sitting position with Mr. Leviathan across your laps, neither of you changed into sleepwear and you were still wearing your glasses."

    "But I still broke the rules," I say. "And bad boys get punished!"

    "It was an accident," Trey tells me. "Do you want to get punished?"

    "I don''t!

    "Then why are you insisting that you deserve to get punished?"

    "Because I broke the rules!"

    "Xander," Trey sighs. "Look me in the eyes. Thank you. You accidentally broke the rules. It was a very minor thing, too. That''s not deserving of punishment. Okay?"

    "But it''s still breaking the rules!"

    "Did you get into trouble for running in the house when my parents were watching you?"

    "They haven''t watched me since."

    "That''s¡­ unrelated," he snorts. "Just promise you''ll try to not do that again in the future, okay? That''s all you have to do."

    "That''s all?" I ask.

    "That''s all."

    "Um¡­ okay," I say. "I promise I''ll try not to do solo sleepovers with Russell again until after I''m old enough for it while dating, and I promise I''ll try to remember to get permission for sleepovers in the future."

    "There," Trey says. "That''s all."

    No one says anything for a few moments, but I have a few questions and I''m not sure if I can ask them or not.

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Trey?"

    "What do you want to ask?"

    I guess it''s okay to ask.

    "I was sleeping with my glasses on?" I ask. "But I woke up and they were on one of the nightstands."

    "I took them off of you," he says. "Just in case you moved around in your sleep and bent or broke them."

    "Oh," I say. "Thanks. I enchanted them so they''ll be extra-durable, but it probably would''ve poked me hard if I did move around. And I guess I did? You said we were sitting up with Mr. Leviathan across our laps?"

    That was how we were talking.

    "Yes," Trey answers.

    "Huh," I say. "We woke up hugging Mr. Leviathan between us."

    "Excuse me," Mrs. Jackson says. "What is ''Mr. Leviathan''?"

    She seems concerned for some reason. I pull off my backpack and open it up, then start to pull out Mr. Leviathan. Her eyes widen as she sees him.

    "I like sleeping while hugging him," I tell her. "He''s very comfortable most of the time."

    I push Mr. Leviathan back into my backpack, which I then zip back up and pull back on.

    "I''m really not in trouble?" I ask Trey.

    "No, Xander, you''re not," he says. "It was an accident and something minor. Let''s get going, we need to make sure we''re at the location in time to set up for the demonstration, and pick up breakfast on the way."

    "Okay."

    Russell gets ready to go, then the five of us leave, Trey taking me and Russell''s parents taking him. On our way to Autumn Vale, we stop at a donut place to pick up the order of donuts Trey placed for us. It''s a big order since a lot of people are meeting us there, and we pick up milk and orange juice at a shop on the way, kept cold in a cooler which produces its old cold within via magic. There''s also coffee for people who drink that, in a warmer which uses magic to keep it warm.

    That smells really strong and I''m glad it''s in the bed of the truck and not in the cab with Trey and me.

    We arrive at the location at about nine in the morning, the drive itself taking awhile since even though Autumn Vale and Autumn Hills are neighbors, they''re still very big areas with a lot of hills and curves to navigate. None of the other people I invited are here yet, but I''m not surprised by that since we did show up a bit earlier than the others were told to.

    The property for the live gaming zone itself is about one square mile, and includes ruins at the edge of town and some grassy areas outside of it. All of it has been sectioned off, stone brick walls built around it. There are traces of magic on the blocks, so I think it was used to build them.

    S.G., Carter, and Tate show up a few minutes after we do and join us in eating the donuts while I work on some stuff on my development laptop. They and Russell start goofing around, so I do my best to ignore them while I work. Carter shows up another boy from his grade ¨C I sent him a text earlier and asked him to bring a friend he trusts if he could ¨C but I forget his name after he walks off.

    Luke, Parker, and Tyler show up with the parents who came out here next and join in on the games the other boys are playing. A few minutes after that, Connor, Sam, and Isaac shows up, which results in S.G. letting out some loud shouts and tackling them before the play resumes.

    That looks like a lot of fun, but they''re also tackling each other a lot so I don''t think I''d enjoy it that much. It''s better for me to just focus on what I''m working on.

    All of the other boys are wearing shorts and either short-sleeved or sleeveless shirts, while I''m wearing black MountainStorm Gear pants and a dark green long-sleeved with some neon-green markings. They''ll all probably be more comfortable in those outfits for running around in during the demonstration, but it makes me feel like I''m standing out by not dressing the same.

    Mr. Milton and a few other employees from Dream Best Entertainment show up next, followed by Grandpa Adrian and a few of his employees.

    "Is there anything you need to do to set up?" Mr. Milton asks me after Grandpa Adrian shows up and everyone is introduced. "I presume that''s why you wanted to be here early?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Sorry if that''s a problem. I need to give the system an outline of what''s the playing field. Is it the entire walled-off area?"

    "It is," he answers. "Though we can use a smaller area for the demonstration if you''d like. We bought a larger zone so that there can be more variation during play. The areas that are already reinforced and ready for play are marked out with fencing."

    "Okay," I pull a binder out of my backpack. "Here''s some information about what I''m doing and how things work. Grandpa Adrian told me it''d be best to give this to you before starting things. To mark out a zone, I first use a bot that scans the entire area to create a map. That then creates a map, which you can then make outlines on.

    "That''s only for one version of the game," I add. "For if the game is setting up things at specific locations, since it needs to know where to limit those to. If it''s just the zombie shooter ¨C no location-based events ¨C then you don''t need to do that."

    "Do you have a scanner bot?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I place a hand on a metal orb one foot in diameter, its shell a medium-dark green. "This is it, but I didn''t want to send it off without asking first. What it''ll do is scan an overhead view of the entire area, then you mark out on the admin program the zones to restrict things to. Then, the game will restrict all location-based events and spawns to within there. May I please send it off? I can show you on the screens here."

    One of the setup things I did was connect a second laptop to some monitors Grandpa Adrian brought. This laptop isn''t my magitech development one but one my great-grandpa also brought. This will better show that it''s not just my laptop that''s able to handle the program, it just needs to be a device capable of connecting to magitech AR systems and running the base of a game.

    Or something like that. I''m not that great at explaining things like this. That''s more of Greyson''s area of expertise, I think. Understanding what I make is a lot easier than actually putting it into words for me.

    "Go ahead," Mr. Milton says, and I open up the admin menu for the game''s program and tell it to send the orb off.

    Using the laptop, I direct the orb to fly over the zone, and a map of it starts forming on the screens. It takes less than ten minutes to receive a full aerial view of the zone, then I show Mr. Milton and some of the others how to create zones.

    "If you create a zone like this," Mr. Milton points at a screen, drawing a finger down. "Where it''s mostly avoiding buildings but intersects some how would the program handle that for the game? Since you''d be able to leave the zone?"

    "The game will have a marking similar to police tape in your vision," I explain. "Marking the play area''s boundaries. If you cross it, you''ll be notified that no actions taken beyond it will affect your game."

    "Can it be set up to penalize a player for going out of the zone?"

    To penalize the player?

    "I haven''t set it up to do that," I tell him. "But depending on the desired penalties, I can program it to."

    "Something like restricting their ability to play for a few minutes after they enter the zone again," he says. "So that if someone is playing in a smaller zone in the larger area, they can''t just leave it to go around and get a better position, or to hide out of bounds."

    "Oh, yeah, I can set it up to do that," I say. "Or dock points for one where you''re being scored. I was basing the program on a game I watched others play, and they didn''t really have to deal with that. Give me, like, five minutes and I can set that up."

    I quickly program the game to issue penalties for exiting the designated zone.

    "Did you just adjust the program right here?" One of the other employees asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "It''s not that hard if you understand the runes, and it''s just a small difference from other features that already exist, such as losing HP or the time when you''re waiting for the game to begin. Since I haven''t had time to test it, I''m not sure if there will be bugs, but it was already explained and accepted there might be some during the demonstration. My understanding is that you''re looking more for how well it works as a gaming device than the actual programming of the game itself. Or was I wrong?"

    "You weren''t," Mr. Milton answers. "That''s what we''re looking for."

    "Okay," I say. "Anyway, it''s almost ten now, and everything is almost set up. I can see some fencing in the aerial view¡­ do you want the zone to match that for the testing?"

    It looks to be a space about a thousand feet at its widest and seven hundred at its narrowest, but it''s not a rectangle, with the fence following the roads and turning here and there.

    "Yes," Mr. Milton answers. "How do you separate it?"

    "You enter the ''edit play zone'' mode with this button," I say. "Then take your stylus and draw the zone. It''s okay to have wobbly lines. If you want them straight, then once you finish, you can tap this button and it''ll straighten the lines. Then you review to see if the lines are right and if not, you can click this button and it''ll let you drag the lines a little. And now, the zones are set! Okay, so I think that means it''s time for us to get the other boys over here and start the streams that are going to be going."

    Grandpa Adrian calls for everyone to gather up, and S.G., Carter, and I start our streams with Starting Soon screens, so that we can all get ready while our viewers arrive. It seems we can even set the streams up to say that we''re with other streamers, so we tag each other for that so everyone knows.

    "Oh, um," I say. "I didn''t ask, but does everyone here want to play the game? I wanted an even number even though evens are evil because it makes it easier to split things up a little."

    The other boys all say they''re interested, so I guess I''m fine for that.

    "Okay," I swap my glasses for my streaming glasses. "Then let''s officially start the streams. The first camera is that one. Everyone ready? Okay. Here we go. Hi, everyone! I''m Xa-Xander, and today, I''m here in Autumn Vale with S.G. and Carter, along with a bunch of others."

    "Hi!" S.G. waves.

    "Hey, guys!" Carter waves.

    "Today," I say. "We''re doing something a little bit different. We''re at a location owned by Dream Best Entertainment, where we''ll be demonstrating an augment reality set I''ve developed and playing a game on it.

    "In fact," I point at my glasses. "These glasses ¨C which I was wearing during my Tuesday stream ¨C are augmented reality glasses! They''ve been designed to have multiple features, including gaming and streaming. On Tuesday, I was using them to read chat and the recipe, which is why no one saw me looking at one and how I was able to react to chat without having screens up all over to show me what you were all saying regardless of my position."Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I swipe and tap a couple of times with my hands.

    "And this is some of what I''m seeing now," I say. "The streaming function of the glasses doesn''t show things like my channel dashboard when showing what I''m viewing to chat, but I can see some of its options here, which you can''t. You can see, however, that I have chat called up in my vision right here, and a few other options. If I sign in or out of something, you also won''t see the login or password. And now, I''m going to give S.G. and Carter ones so they can sign in and shift over if they''d like."

    Once they have their glasses, I teach them how to sign in to their channels with the glasses and even how to move the different features around, allowing them to place chat wherever they''d like.

    "Now that we streamers are set up," I say. "It''s time for everyone else! You''ll note that the glasses come in three colors of lens tinting: green, blue, and purple. There are also only four of each, and S.G., Carter, and I each have a different one. This is useful for team play, and the glasses will automatically designate teams based on the color of them. Connor, Sam, and Isaac, you three join Carter on the purple team. Luke, Parker, and Tyler, you join S.G. on the blue team. Everyone else, you join me on the green team."

    Everyone grabs their glasses and pulls them on. I do have more than those, but I only set out enough for each of us boys.

    "Okay," I say. "You''ll all notice that there are a few different functions, including signing in to a streamer account, a practice mode for practicing shooting, and the game. Only someone actively streaming can view chat during a game, and only their own. Also, the glasses are designed to block metagaming, so if someone is saying something that''s happening on another stream for the same game group, it won''t show up on the glasses. No cheating allowed!"

    The others all snicker a little at that.

    "Hey, Xander?" Russell asks, and I look at him. "I just noticed that there''s a ''chores'' mode."

    "Huh?" I look at my menu. "Oh. Whoops. That was something I was messing about with yesterday, I must''ve uploaded it to same chip I put the game on. These glasses are all connected to a master device, which is that block connected to the laptop via cable. There''s a gaming card that was inserted into it, and that''s what determines the game available on the glasses. That was an accident."

    "How does the chores mode work?" He asks.

    "Oh," I say. "Um¡­ so parents can designate chores through it. And when wearing the glasses and have it set to chores mode, you can do the chore, then check the program, and it''ll let you know if you missed anything. But it won''t get on you for something like ''you missed a few specks of dust'' or ''missed a tiny spot while wiping down the table''. Only an abusive fuckwad would require one hundred percent perfection for cleaning chores for their kid. It''s a home, not a laboratory or hospital. The parents can also use the program to see if their kid''s done their chores while the parent''s at work or something.

    "And if they want," I continue. "They can assign point values to the chores, and even mark ''optional'' chores. So like if a parent normally does their kid''s laundry, but the kid starts being old enough they can start doing their own, they can set up laundry as an optional chore. And with the points¡­ I know not all parents pay kids for doing chores, or reward the kids, but it could be used for doing that. Like, you get a point for taking the trash out when it''s full, or two points for doing the dishes, or a point for cleaning the floors. But only once per day, or per three days, or per week, depending on how often the parent sets the chore itself to be required.

    "Then once the kid earns enough points," I say. "They could get a reward, or it could be what determines how much their allowance is for that allowance period. The reward could be something like the parents do the chores for a day, or a movie night where the kid makes all the movie choices, or a game night where the kid makes all the game choices, or the kid getting to play video games for longer than allowed, or getting to stay up later than allowed, or a sleepover, or getting to eat a cheesecake at midnight¡­ whatever the parents and kid agrees on."

    "That sounds pretty neat," Russell says.

    "Would it be useful for other things?" Carter asks. "You said it can tell if something is cleaned or not, right? So does that mean it could be used somewhere like a ranch not as chores but as more of a checklist to make sure everything got done?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Maybe with some tweaks to the program? It''s only got basic chores in it right now, like cleaning and laundry and trash, but Greyson''s database probably has stuff for ranches."

    "That''s cool," Carter grins.

    "That wasn''t supposed to be on that game card," I say. "It was supposed to be on a separate one. Whoops. The program''s not complete yet. We''re here¡­ for the game."

    I look at the other boys for a few moments, the eleven of them watching me with anticipation and eagerness now. At least, that''s what I think those faces are. It''s also what it feels like to me, for some reason.

    That part confuses me, so it''s better to move on than try to figure it out. I''m doing a demonstration and a stream, not a confusion session.

    "The game itself," I say. "Is a mixture of a zombie shooter, first-person shooter, and laser tag. There are a few different modes I have set up for it. All mode names are a work in progress and simply placeholders at the moment until I come up with better ones.

    "The first mode," I continue. "Is called ''zombie clear mode''. All players have to try and take down as many zombies as they can within the time limit set by the one running the game, which can be set on the laptop there since it''s connected to the controller device."

    "Console," S.G. says.

    "Huh?"

    "The proper term is probably ''console''," he tells me. "That''s what gaming systems are generally called. At least, I think that''s the closest for this."

    "Oh," I say. "Okay. So yeah, the time limit is set on the computer connected to the console, though if someone has admin on their glasses, they can also set the time limit, which I can like this. If everyone will direct their attention to that screen there, I''ll show on it how to set the time limit using my glasses."

    I open up my admin menu, select Zombie Clear Mode, and then set the timer to twenty minutes.

    "We''ll do twenty minutes for the first game," I say. "On to some of the stuff about the game. Everyone has an HP meter and an MP meter. Don''t use actual spells, they won''t do anything for the game. Instead, you can either say the name of the spell you want to cast or select it from the choices in your vision, then point your hand like this."

    I open up testing mode real quick and demonstrate each of the three spells that are given as choices: [Flame Missile], which shoots a missile of flames, [Barrier], which creates a barrier in front of me, and [Heal], which restores 10 HP. They cost 5 MP, 10 MP, and 25 MP, respectively, and I start with 100 HP and MP as my capacity.

    All of them are magivirtual, of course, so there''s no effect in the real world. The first two, however, do affect the magivirtual zombies in the testing mode, with the first causing a massive amount of damage to the target one and the second preventing a zombie from reaching me.

    "In a game at or under fifteen minutes in duration," I say. "You''ll gain 10 HP and MP each time you gain a Level, which you get from gaining enough Experience Points, which you get for killing zombies, and your Constitution and Magic will go up by 0.5 each time. Constitution reduces how much in-game HP you lose from an attack from the zombies, while Magic improves the power of your spells. Your in-game spells, I mean."

    "So it takes two Levels to gain a point into them?" Connor asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "But the formula for Experience and Levels is different, and I think you should be able to reach Level 10 by the end of fifteen minutes, if you kill enough. I might have to tweak the numbers a bit."

    "What about for games longer than fifteen minutes?" Sam asks. "You said that''s just for ones at or under, right?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "For games longer than fifteen minutes, you gain 10 HP and MP every time you gain a Level, and two Stat Points. They can boost your HP or MP by 10 or your Constitution or Magic by 1.

    "As for recovering HP and MP," I say. "You''ll passively regain 1 HP and MP every three seconds, but crouching down will improve that after ten seconds, making it every second instead, up until you stop crouching. Other than those and the [Heal] spell, there are no recovery methods."

    What should I cover next?

    "What about sound?" Luke asks just as I''m about to continue. "There aren''t any earpieces, right?"

    I click my tongue twice.

    "Can you hear me?"

    "Whoa!" He jumps. "Xander, that''s cool, but the rest of us can''t use magic like that!"

    "That''s the set," I point at my glasses. "They have earpieces and mics in them. Clicking your tongue twice turns it on or off for ''team mode'', which is everyone on your current team. We''re all on one team right now, so you''re all hearing it."

    I click my tongue twice.

    "You can also double-tap right here," I double-tap on a spot behind my ears. "And it''ll do the same thing. If you press and hold instead, you can send a message to a specific teammate by saying their in-game name. Um¡­ oh, right, I didn''t show you how to set an in-game name, that''s why if you call up the Team List, it just has ''Xander'', then a bunch of ''Player'' with a numbers."

    I teach them all how to do that, then I think we''re ready to start the game.

    "Once the game has begun," I say. "Magivirtual zombies will appear within your vision within the play zone, as long as you''re wearing the glasses. Then, you''ll be able to start killing them for points. We can spread out or stay in groups. Remember: this match is a full-team match, not an individual match or split into teams. Everyone got it?"

    "Yes!" "Got it!" "Yeah!" "Ready to go!"

    A bunch of different responses come in, but they all mean the same thing, so I look over at Mr. Milton.

    "On Page 7 of the binder," I tell him. "It''ll describe how to begin the game. You can do so from the laptop there."

    Trey told me that it wouldn''t be a bad idea to include Mr. Milton and the other employees in the demonstration, and I think this is what he meant.

    Mr. Milton looks in the binder, then goes to the laptop and does something on it before looking at me.

    "Ready when you are," he says. "Do you not have weapons for this? Or is the combat fully reliant on the spells?"

    "Oh, right!" I exclaim, then hurry over to my backpack and start pulling the augmented reality guns out and setting them on the table where the glasses had been. "Everyone, you can get one bigger gun and one handgun. For the game purposes, they have special anti-zombie bullets. The bigger guns are automatic, while the smaller ones are not. Holding the trigger won''t make more magivirtual bullets appear, you have to pull it again and again."

    "Is that a spatial expansion on the backpack?" Tate asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "I put it on there the other day so I can fit more stuff in it. I''ve got desserts for after the demonstration in here, too. Anyway, the guns are currently set to unlimited mode. I wasn''t really sure on how to do reloads, so I just set it to unlimited mode. A future version will probably have it require MP to fire bullets, but I''ll need to tweak the MP capacity to deal with that.

    "Regarding the guns," I say. "The AR glasses will register any which are designed for the same set. So you can grab any gun from this set and the system will acknowledge it and let you shoot magivirtual bullets with it. That means you can just grab any big gun and handgun for your weapon. You''ll also note that the handguns have holsters for fixing onto your belts, and the big ones have straps to wear across your body."

    Once I finish putting out enough guns for us, the other boys grab their pairs, then I grab ones for me. Mr. Milton tells us he''ll start the game once we''ve entered the play zone, and an employee opens up the door for us to enter.

    I hope I didn''t fuck things up too bad.

    <hr>

    <u> [Sig ¨C 13 years]</u>

    These glasses are insane! Nothing in my vision is intrusive and I really can move things around to adjust the HUD as I please. I want to play with it more, but it''s time for us to begin the match.

    Just as Mr. Milton announces he''s hit Start Match, a message pops up in the HUD.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center" colspan="2">Clear Zombies Mode has Begun!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 50%">Time Limit:</td>

    <td style="width: 50%">20 minutes</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 50%">Conclusion Time:</td>

    <td style="width: 50%">10:28 AM 7/15/2023</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Whoa!" I exclaim. "It even tells us the time that the game ends!"

    There''s a clock within my view already, and there''s now a timer counting down from twenty minutes. There are also a lot of zombies suddenly appearing around us. Not swarming us, but scattered throughout the ruins.

    "Let''s kill zombies!" I pump a fist up into the air.

    "What''s the plan?" Bo, the friend that Tate and Carter invited when Xander said he wanted another kid here, asks. "Group hunting?"

    Bo has brown hair and blue eyes, and much like Tate and Carter, he''s lean and fit and a pretty decent mage. He works on another magic beast ranch, but with a different breed than what Tate''s and Carter''s families raise. I''ve met him a couple of times in the past, but he wasn''t really friends with Tate and Carter before.

    Seems that changed, since he''s the one they immediately thought to ask at Xander''s request. He''s pretty cool, so I don''t mind. The more, the merrier!

    "Some of us can do groups," Luke says. "Xander, how difficult is this?"

    "Um¡­" Xander thinks for a few moments. "Well, I tested it by myself on Thursday and could mostly handle things, so we probably don''t need groups? The rate of zombie spawn does increase the more players there are, but it shouldn''t be too much more than what we can handle. That''s just mostly so that people don''t get left out."

    "Alright," I look at my team. "Why don''t we do this? We work alone at first but stay near enough to others. If we get comfortable with the spawn rates, we can split up or go alone. If not, then we can group up. I wanna try and beat Carter''s count for zombies."

    "You''re on!" Carter exclaims.

    Everyone except Xander agrees to this strategy, while Xander just accepts it. I try to ask if he wants something else, but he shakes his head.

    "I don''t really know much about gaming," he says. "The rest of you are probably better gamers than me. If that sounds like a good idea to all of you, then I''ll go with it."

    "Okay!" I say. "Want me to stick with you instead, in case you need help?"

    "You''re okay," Xander says.

    That''s not a yes or no, that''s an evasion of the answer. That means he does want me to stick with him, but doesn''t want to say it.

    "I''ll stick with you," Russell tells him before looking at me. "You go have fun."

    "Alright," I say. "Come on, Carter!"

    Carter and I take off, shooting our way through the zombies that we come across. They look super realistic to me, as if they''re an actual part of this world, and I can''t see any rendering delay.

    "Right?" Carter asks when I say that. "If it weren''t for the HP indicators on them, I honestly wouldn''t be able to tell."

    A "magivirtual" bullet, as Xander would call it, suddenly hits the head of a zombie I was getting ready to shoot, sniping it in an instant.

    "I''ve been looking for any indication of one," Luke says as I look over and shoot at him, the bullet not doing any damage.

    I had a feeling Xander didn''t include friendly fire for this mode, but wanted to shoot him anyway for sniping my kill.

    "And?" Carter asks.

    "Nothing," Luke answers. "Damn, can Xander do this. I''ve tried AR before and it couldn''t keep up with speed. Quickly moving things would cause some lag, things wouldn''t render properly for a moment before correcting¡­ you know I''m a lightning mage, right?"

    "Of course!" I tell him. "You''re one of my inspirations for learning magic! After hearing about that fight with the elemental and how you beat it down-"

    "It was a draw," Luke interrupts. "It withdrew after I threw, like, one attack. And I don''t think the attack really did much, it decided to withdraw. Seven o''clock."

    I turn and start shooting the zombies that are approaching. Every three minutes, we encounter a group of about twenty of them, and that''s the only time Carter and I aren''t competing to steal each other''s kills. Luke as well, it seems, since he''s joined us even if we''re on different teams.

    "That''s still cool!" I say. "I doubt I''d even survive a hug from one and you threw down with one!"

    "That''s not-" Luke starts, then lets out an exasperated groan, causing Carter and me to snicker. "Anyway. My mind is like, way faster than your guys'' because of my lightning magic. Sure, I''m still thirteen, but I can think at more than ten times the speed you do. I process information at the same boosted rate. All because of my lightning magic. And I haven''t noticed any delays. It really is seamless."

    "That''s incredible!" I shoot a zombie that Luke was about to spot. "Ha! Got ya! I never struck Xander as the kind of guy to want to make something like this, and he''s made it super well! I mean, I knew he was making a zombie shooter, but I didn''t realize he''d made the AR set, too!"

    He''d just said that he was making AR stuff and a zombie shooter game, so I''d assumed it was just the game. It wasn''t until we got here that I learned he made the set, too.

    "Wait, you didn''t know?" Luke asks.

    "Know what?" I ask.

    "Xander doesn''t understand gaming," Luke snickers. "But he knows you guys like playing laser tags and zombie shooter games. He understands laser tag well enough. So he figured he''d combine the two so he could play with you."

    Xander invented a higher-level AR magitech just so he could play zombie shooters with us? Why does that surprise me? He built a freaking hoverboard just so he could stay with us while we''re riding our bikes!

    "Wait!" Carter exclaims. "That''s why Xander got uncomfortable on Sunday, when we were talking about AR! I''d mentioned the tech wasn''t there yet! He was trying to avoid mentioning that he was building something! I''d told him that I''d looked into AR for my videos. He probably thought I''d try and get him to give me some for free!"

    "Oooh!" I say. "Yeah, he did switch back after you said that, didn''t he? Well, whatever! This is pretty cool! Do you think there are zombie mages? I wanna fight a zombie mage!"

    We go back to trying to outdo each other, with Luke disappearing on us. He''s a lot stronger and faster than even Carter, who I struggle to keep up with when he''s not deliberately hanging back near me. We see Tate and Bo a few times as well, the two of them doing their best to beat the other''s zombie counts.

    Right when the timer is up, all of the zombies vanish.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 99.2263%; text-align: center">Game End! Please Return to the Starting Zone!</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Once we reach the entrance to the gaming zone, Xander sends everyone the score totals. I ranked last, with some of the non-mages with their slower and weaker bodies all being pretty high up. I even hit Level 17 during this, so I thought that meant I''d place pretty high. Based on the kill counts, I was only three kills behind Carter, too!

    "Wait, Xander?" I ask as I realize that he ranked first¡­ and is Level 21. "How did you get such a high score? Like, it''s cool you did and all, but that''s really surprising!"

    "Oh," Xander says. "I think I messed up the program. Everyone got way too high of Levels, too. And we kept getting swarmed with zombies. I''ll have to look, but I think I accidentally set it to spawn bigger and more hordes if people are sticking too close to each other, not just based on the total group size. Russell, Connor, Parker, and I were grouped together and we were getting a horde of fifty or more every minute and a half. That''s not supposed to be dependent on how many people are together. And the timer wasn''t supposed to decrease. Let me check the code real quick."

    Xander pulls off his AR glasses and summons his normal ones to put on, then checks something on his personal laptop. Judging by the intense furrowing of his brow and tight pursing of his lips, something is definitely odd.

    "Yeah," he says. "Fixing it now. I think I accidentally adjusted those parameters when changing the spawn count based on the total group size."

    He removes the game card from the console and a notice pops up in my vision saying the game card has been removed and I will be unable to play the game until it''s placed back in. The card gets inserted into something he plugs into his laptop, and thirty seconds later, he''s putting the game card back into the console.

    "That fast?" Mr. Milton asks.

    "Hm?" Xander looks at him. "What do you mean?"

    "You were able to change it that fast?"

    "It''s just moving runes around," Xander closes his laptop, then swaps back into his AR glasses. "Okay, so that was the single-group play mode. There are a few others that are possible, including with teams that compete to kill the most zombies, defending a location against a zombie onslaught, attempting to reach a certain point while taking down the zombies, and then one that''s more like laser tag, where you''re trying to score points by shooting others. For the first of those¡­"

 Chapter 0071

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    This was exhausting. The streamed portion of the demonstration concluded awhile ago, but I still had questions to answer. Grandpa Adrian helped me with a few of them, especially the ones I wasn''t really sure about how to answer or couldn''t really know ¨C like the price point for the augmented reality stuff ¨C and we''re finally, finally done.

    Now, I''m waiting for further instructions as Mr. Milton very nervously talks with Grandpa Adrian and another man about logistics and ordering and stuff. The other boys are goofing around again, but I''m too tired to join in. Well, and they''re also roughhousing, and I don''t want to do that. So I''m not joining in.

    Especially because Tyler just jumped into the air to do a drop-kick on Carter, who blocks it with an arm that doesn''t budge at all. Both of them have massive grins on their face, so I know they''re just goofing around, but¡­ nope. Not me.

    I am not joining in.

    Even if it does look a little bit fun¡­

    "Xander?" Grandpa Adrian eventually comes over to me, along with some of the other men who were here. "Could you call the other boys over?"

    Oh, it''s time for that now. I give him a wave of one of Trenton''s paws, then look over to the other boys.

    "Hey, guys," I project my voice to the other boys using magic; I''ve figured out how to do it intentionally now. If I did the spell right, they should be hearing me as if I''m right beside them, not as if I''m yelling. "Can you guys come over here?"

    Curious about what they''re being called over for, the other boys all come over to me. At least, I think that''s curiosity on their faces.

    Noticing the horde of boys heading somewhere, the parents who came all walk over as well. Some of them are definitely nervous of my great-grandpa, but he''s not really that scary.

    Just unnerving because he''s in his old-man form and it messes with my eyes to look at him. Fortunately, I''m looking at the other boys right now instead of him.

    What was I supposed to say again?

    "Hi, everyone," I say. "Thank you all for helping with the demonstration and being a part of today''s beta test. Um¡­ Grandpa Adrian has stuff to say and I don''t remember what I was supposed to."

    "Thank you, Xander," Grandpa Adrian says as some of the other boys giggle. "Everyone, thank you for participating in today''s demonstration and beta test. There are two things we have for each of you for participating, both of which can be found within the envelopes being passed around now. The first of those is a slip of paper with a URL and a code. That code is unique to you, and using it will allow you to give feedback regarding the devices and the game. It''s usable until the end of Wednesday ¨C at midnight on Thursday, you won''t be able to input any feedback, so make sure to get it in before then. You can also tell Xander directly, but this will make it easier to keep it organized and logged."

    Grandpa Adrian glances down at me, and I look up at him.

    "That''s your turn, Xander," he gently says.

    "Oh," I say, then look at the other guys again. "Um¡­ what was it? Oh, right. Thanks for helping."

    "No, Xander," Grandpa Adrian says. "About the feedback."

    "Oh," I try to remember what I was supposed to say. "I don''t remember. Sorry¡­"

    "It''s alright," he chuckles, then looks at the other boys again. "There will be another beta test here next Saturday, and you''re all invited to return for that as well. It''ll occur at 10:00 AM, and will feature the improved version of the game, which Xander will work on over the next week, incorporating some of your suggestions for the game while tweaking formulas for balance."

    I feel like what was I supposed to say was related to that, but I still can''t remember.

    "A check?" S.G. suddenly asks; he''s opened up his enveloped and pulled out the slips inside, as have some of the others. "Uh¡­ sorry, sir. I didn''t mean to-"

    "It''s fine," Grandpa Adrian smiles at him. "That''s the next part. This was an official demonstration and an official beta test for a Xanson Technologies product. All companies under the Lumaria Group pays its beta testers, including new companies. Xanson Technologies is the company formed to sell products which Xander and one of his cousins, Greyson, develop. Xander''s puzzle spheres and hoverboard are being sold through them."

    "How does that work?" Carter''s friend I only met today blurts out, then looks nervous; I still can''t remember his name. "I mean, uh¡­ I didn''t mean to-"

    "Why are you guys so nervous?" I ask. "He''s just my great-grandpa."

    "Xander," Luke snorts. "Your great-grandpa is Earth''s shadow ruler and he could smite people with a thought."

    "He doesn''t feel like a smiting sort of guy," I hold up Trenton. "Trenton says you''d probably only really invoke his wrath if you''re trying to cause trouble to the world at large or if you try to use or abuse his kin, whatever that means. Annoying him with a child''s curiosity would just cause him to give you a scolding, not immolate you. I don''t know what word means."

    "In this case," Grandpa Adrian says. "He''s referring to ''killing by fire''. And Trenton is right, just asking questions about what we''re discussing won''t get you into trouble unless you do it too much, and you''ll only be scolded if that happens. You can ask if you''re curious, Bo."

    Oh, that''s his name. I''ll probably forget it again in ten seconds.

    "Oh, um," Bo still looks nervous. "How does that work? Like, the company being able to pay? Or even afford to develop stuff?"

    "I invested money into supplying Xander and Greyson materials," Grandpa Adrian answers. "Some of the profits from their products will go into paying back the materials they use in their research, developments, experiments, and so on until that''s paid off, then those funds will go into purchasing the materials they use for said activities. For the costs of production, it depends on the product.

    "For the puzzle spheres," he continues. "I''m covering the initial costs, which will be paid back from their sales. Those sales will generate revenue for the company, which will allow it to cover the future costs on its own. For the hoverboards, the full cost is required up-front, and that covers its production costs."

    I also receive some of the profits for the products sold. For the hoverboards, they''re being sold at $200,000 apiece, but cost about $150,000 to produce, according to Grandpa Adrian. That''s around $50,000 in profit, and I receive an amount equal to either forty percent of the profits or ten percent of the sale price, whichever is higher. In this case, they''re the same. So if it''s equal to exactly $50,000 in profits, I receive $20,000.

    Except for the ones that are custom-built. Those have an extra $50,000 fee if I custom-build them, but only if I actually do. Grandpa Adrian was extremely clear that I can turn down any request for a custom build. The fee itself is meant as a deterrent, to decrease the amount of people asking for me to build them myself.

    It goes entirely to me.

    It was also made extremely clear to me that I shouldn''t tell people how much I earn, or what the profit margins are. Telling Luke is probably fine since he is extremely rich, considering the $500,000 he spent on the hoverboards for himself and Parker was his own money and not his parents'', but I''m not going to ask Grandpa Adrian if it is or not. Luke and I aren''t friends.

    "And four hoverboards have already been sold," Grandpa Adrian says. "So the company has already made some income, and that''s what''s allowing it to pay for the beta test."

    "We would''ve had to wait until next weekend, otherwise," I add. "But I told Grandpa Adrian that I was making these to play with my friends, so some of you would get to play even if the beta test wasn''t allowed."

    Some of the boys ¨C including my friends ¨C giggle a little at that. I don''t really understand why. They giggle a lot.

    The AR stuff isn''t being developed to be sold, that''s just something that''s going to happen. I''m designing them for playing games with my friends, so when it comes to playing things with my friends, whether or not there''s been a beta test doesn''t matter.

    "Yes," Grandpa Adrian looks at me for a moment before looking back at the others. "But as this was an official beta test, you''re all being paid for it. And I am going to emphasize here that this is a payment from the company to you as beta testers. Xander himself has no part in the pay."

    "I didn''t even know it was gonna happen until this discussion."

    That makes a few of the boys snort.

    "That''s a lot of money for a beta test," Sam''s looking at his check.

    How much were they all paid? I doubt it''s anywhere close to being the $500,000 I was paid for helping Luke with something, but it''s probably more than I paid the guards for helping test the guns. Maybe it was $25 an hour?

    "Five hours of time," Grandpa Adrian says. "Testing both hardware and a game, and having traveled to another location. While I know you were all simply asked while already out here, the majority of you would have had to travel here if this had been planned in advance, and you still had to travel some. This covers both your pay, fuel for the vehicles, and for food expenses, even if we did supply lunch and snacks."

    Very delicious lunch and snacks, so I think they had magic in them.

    "There''s also enough extra in there for a room at a decent hotel for a night since ten in the morning can be an early trip to make out this way," Grandpa Adrian adds. "And you''ll be paid at the same rate, with the same extra considerations, for next Saturday''s test, should you choose to participate. Do remember that it begins at ten, so you''ll need to be here and ready to go before then.

    "That is all," Grandpa Adrian says. "Thank you all for participating, and have a good day."

    Grandpa Adrian takes a few steps back and Luke looks at one of the other men who''d come today.

    "Hey, General!" Luke says. "Surprised to see you here! Are there demons nearby? Want me to take them on?" Sparks flash across his body as he begins to glow in a yellowish-white light. Whoa. That looks so neat. The small crackle sounds from the lightning magic isn''t, though. "I can take ''em out in half a second flat! Though taking out that entire demon base wasn''t intentional."

    "You were showing off a bit too much," the man ¨C a general, I guess ¨C chuckles. "And no, I and some others came out to watch the demonstration and beta test."

    "Really?" Luke asks. "How come?"

    "Augmented reality with zero delay or rendering issues can be useful for training soldiers," the general answers. "We wanted to see its capabilities," he looks at me. "Xander, you said that the AR doesn''t allow for interacting with things like real-world magic. Would it be possible to design it to do so?"

    "I didn''t say it can''t," I say. "The game itself doesn''t as that could give an even more unfair advantage to powerful mages than just how strong and faster their bodies are. Like, Luke could wipe out all of the zombies on his own using his lightning magics if I allowed that."

    "So it already can?" The general asks. "The glasses themselves, I mean."

    This is probably supposed to be an extra demonstration that''s not part of the one for Dream Best Entertainment, and that''s why Grandpa Adrian stayed over here even though he said ''that is all''. That was all for that discussion and that part of the demonstrations.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Um¡­ hold on."

    All of the AR stuff has already been put away, so I pull some of it back out, including my own glasses and a pair that hasn''t been used yet. After setting things up, I hand the general the second pair of glasses and swap mine on.

    "I''ve put in a game card for a target-shooting game," I tell him. "It just makes targets appear in your vision, and you can use real magic and attacks to hit them. I''ve also set it up so there''s a set zone, and here''s a bigger monitor so we can display it, and¡­ there we go. Okay. There''s the zone there. You can try it if you want. Oh, and the points don''t do anything. I couldn''t figure out what to do and this was mostly so I knew how to not include real magic and attacks for the game. Also because Greyson wanted to be able to use magic while playing with it. So I didn''t really put in effort to figuring out what to do with the points. Also, I chose that spot for targets because the only thing you''re at risk of damaging unless you miss really badly or send the spells really far is the ground."

    The general gives the program a try for a minute, then removes the glasses and hands them to me.

    "It''s very impressive," he tells me. "Would it be possible to have the targets tracked to objects, such as golems? Some of the training we put magic special forces members through involves them combating golems designed to have similarities to monsters."

    "Yeah," I nod. "You can even use them to make the golems look like the monsters through the view, and, um¡­ you can also remove the labels that make things clear it''s fake. If-if you want."

    I don''t want to do that, though, so I won''t. But I knew it''d upset Greyson to have those so I added in the feature for him. Not that his glasses are ready yet, but I wanted that part to be there for him just in case he started playing with them early.

    "Okay," he says. "Once the design and hardware has been finalized a little more, we''ll be in contact with the company to discuss ordering them for use in training."Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "I don''t know how to respond to that," I tell him. "So this is me acknowledging your statement."

    Trey told me I should at least acknowledge that someone said something if I don''t know how to respond during this. Since I don''t know how to respond, I''m making sure he knows I heard him.

    The general walks off to talk with Grandpa Adrian a bit, then Carter''s older brother ¨C the one who took him, S.G., and Tate here ¨C claps and calls for everyone''s attention.

    "Hey, guys!" He says. "Dad is preparing a big barbecue back at the ranch for y''all! If you want to come and you''ve got swim trunks, bring ''em ¨C we''ll be doing it at a lake! If you want to ride a horse out to it, you can do that for free as well, though we''ll also be providing alternative transportation for those who don''t want to ride a horse! That''s starting at the ranch, though I can fit a few more boys in the bed of the truck!"

    A barbecue at a lake sounds good to me, but I''m definitely not interested in going swimming. As the other boys talk with themselves and their parents or current chaperones, Carter hurries over to me. He and several other boys took off their shirts when they started roughhousing after the streams ended, and he''s now a little bit too close to me for someone who''s not wearing a shirt. Him being cute doesn''t mean I want him this close to me even normally.

    How do I ask him to step back without making him made at S.G. for introducing us?

    "You don''t have to go swimming if you don''t want to," he quietly tells me. "S.G.''s told us that you''re not comfortable going shirtless in a large group of people, especially if there are strangers among them. If you want to come for the barbecue and that''s it, you can. No one has to swim if they don''t want to, it''s just something extra we''re doing."

    There''d still be a lot of shirtless guys there, though. But if they all go into the water and I stay out of it, that should be fine. I think. There will be distance between us.

    "Okay," I nod. "I''ll ask Trey. A barbecue sounds good."

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Hey, S.G.?" Collin asks as he drives us to the ranch, Bo in the bed of the truck with us for this journey instead of with his parents.

    My friends'' dads still aren''t quite that comfortable with my mind mage sort-of friends, so Connor, Sam, and Isaac are being taken out to the ranch by the dads. Safety in numbers and all that. Sadly, Xander didn''t want to join us, either, but I think he''s going to be sleeping on the way there.

    "Yeah?" I ask.

    Even with the speed we''re traveling, we can hear each other just fine thanks to some magic on the truck itself. I''m not sure how it works, but it ensures those in the cab and those in the bed can talk without issue. I think he''s even got something which lets him observe the bed of the truck.

    "You''d mentioned last night that it was a shame your friends couldn''t be there," he says. "And when we talked, you''d mentioned Xander probably wouldn''t join in since he''s not too familiar with us and is really self-conscious about his body."

    That was a way better choice than saying he''s Autistic or that he has PTSD.

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "I noticed some of his mannerisms before, throughout, and after the demonstration," Collin tells me. "Do you know if he''s Autistic?"

    He figured that out? How? Is it that obvious to older folks? I mean, he''s only four years older than me, but that can be enough of a difference for him to notice things better. Though I think he mentioned he''s taking psychology in high school, so he probably learned stuff from that that''s helped him to figure it out.

    But shoot. I shouldn''t just reveal it. What do I say?

    "Your panicked expression tells me enough," Collin says. "I wanted to know if there are any considerations we should make at the barbecue.

    "Considerations?"

    "Accommodations," he clarifies. "For his disability. This is just supposed to be a fun dinner and hangout time for everyone, and reasonable accommodations for someone''s disability are reasonable."

    That''s a fair point. I don''t think any big accommodations are really needed for Xander, though. We hang out with him and the only thing we really do is not be too noisy or roughhouse with him, but that''s not even just because of him being Autistic. That''s just good manners all around, minding one''s volume around others and not roughhousing with people who don''t like it.

    "Um¡­" I try to think. "I dunno? He''s just a goofy guy with a few quirks and some stuff that makes him nervous. I don''t really understand Autism."

    "The shirtless thing probably comes from it," he says. "What are some of the things that make him nervous?"

    "Being shirtless around strangers," I say. "Or in public. He''ll probably always be on Shirts in a Shirts-versus-Skins game. And if people he''s not too familiar with get too close, he gets nervous and sometimes jump and flinches and stuff. Or if there are too many shirtless people around. That''s why it''s surprising that he''s coming, but I guess he''s tired enough he was just thinking about food."

    "So that''s why he flinched when I came over?" Carter asks. "It was ''cause I got too close?"

    "Probably," I say. "I didn''t see you do that, but I guess if he flinched, you probably got too close or came up too fast. Oh! And he prefers sitting at the end of a table. He gets really stressed if he can''t. Not, like, on the end, but at the end, so that there''s an open space to his side. If the table''s round, then as long as he''s between two people he''s comfortable with, he''s possibly fine, especially if his backpack is between him and one of them. But I think he''ll still get nervous if there are a ton of people around. And absolutely no touching. He''ll just freak out."

    "Yeah," Carter nods. "He did that on Sunday, when he caught me when I started to fall. Was freaking out over touching me even though I said it was cool. That was really weird."

    "Yeah," I nod. "He can be weird about stuff like that. Oh! And he doesn''t like loud noises or lots of noises, but I think he''s got headphones and earplugs for that, so he''ll probably be wearing them at some point."

    "Okay," Collin says. "Anything else that makes him nervous?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think. "Maybe? But I can''t thinking of anything, just that if we get too close or surprise him or if he can''t sit at the end or if there are too many people or too many noises or he gets touched¡­ oh, but he can be touched if he''s comfortable with you, and is in the right mood, and depending on what it is. Like fist-bumps."

    "Okay," Collin says. "What about quirks?"

    "Quirks?" I ask. "Hm¡­ like, what kind of quirks? ''Cause I''ve heard people say he talks a bit odd but I haven''t noticed it. I have noticed a lot of other things, though. Like how he treats Trenton as if the bear can actually talk, you probably noticed that earlier. And he sometimes looks off into space as if there''s something there only he can see. Not like he''s zoning out, but like there''s actually something there that he''s looking at."

    "I meant related to gatherings and groups of people," Collin says. "How does he act? Anything that''s not ''normal'' to you but is to him?"

    "I dunno," I shrug. "I mean, it gets weird sometimes."

    "Weird how?" Tate asks.

    "Like, we''ll ask him what he wants to play," I say. "And he doesn''t really answer that well. He always tries to let us pick and if he doesn''t want to do it, he''ll say he''s fine sitting out. But it''s like, we''re asking him because we want to play something everyone wants to play. And it''s like, we can tell he wants to play with us."

    "That is weird," Tate says. "He wants to play but won''t make a suggestion?"

    "Hm¡­" Collin seems to be thinking about something. "When he sits out, does he seem fine with it?"

    "Yeah," I answer. "Like, we can tell he wants to play, but he seems fine sitting out sometimes."

    "Y''all make an effort to include him and he seems fine with not participating sometimes," he says. "Ever thought that means he might be fine just getting to hang out? Dad would say to try not to push participation on him. Make the offers as y''all do but don''t press if he declines. Make sure to include something he enjoys every time so he knows y''all want to hang out, and I think he''ll be fine with that."

    "That he''s just¡­ okay being there?" I ask, then lean back a little. "Huh."

    I hadn''t considered that, and I doubt the others did. Thinking about it, that actually makes a bit of sense. Xander''s always insistent on us not playing something he wants to play if there''s something else we all want to but he doesn''t, but he gets happy when we do play something with him. And if we play something that he doesn''t want to play, then something that he does, he seems pretty happy.

    It''s not as if we''re picking stuff just for him. In the usual group, it''s a decision based on what everyone wants. We all like playing with the hacky sack, flying disc, and cards. Xander enjoys participating in races as long as it''s not for actual competitive reasons, just like us. That makes it easy to pick something we all want to play. He''ll even join us for flag football if he''s in the right mood.

    So he likes being around us as long as he can participate at least some of the time, and really doesn''t mind sitting out for some games. It always makes me feel so bad when he doesn''t participate because it feels like we''re excluding him even when he''s the one who declined. That we should change games because he doesn''t want to participate.

    But he does always participate in the next one with the same enthusiasm as always. I guess he really doesn''t mind letting us have a game he''s not a part of from time to time.

    "Anything else?" Collin asks. "Quirks which might affect the gathering? Things we can do to make sure he''s comfortable?"

    "Um¡­" I try to think. "So we haven''t really been hanging out that much. But something we noticed is that likes to help."

    "Help?" Collin asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "Like, helping put the dishes out, or clean up, or mix the lemonade. A couple of weeks ago, my aunt moved into a new home and we all spent the night there and were going to help her clean up the yard in the morning. We all woke up, and Xander had already begun helping her a bit. So he''ll probably ask your parents about helping put out the plates and cups or whatever. And if someone asks for volunteers to help with something, he''ll probably raise his hand pretty fast. That''s another weird quirk of his. It''s like, we''re all there to hang out, and he''s just like ''so what can I do to help?'' I don''t understand it."

    "That is weird," Bo says.

    "Right?" I ask. "It''s super weird! But he''s still a cool dude and we all love hanging out with him. Oh!" I just remembered another thing. "And if he takes his eyes off his drink for too long when there''s a group around, he''ll stop drinking from it. I don''t know why. He''ll probably carry it with him everywhere until that point. If you see his cup sitting somewhere away from him, that means he''s abandoned it and is drinking from something he has in his backpack. Probably water or lemonade, but potentially milk or orange juice.

    "Mr. Richardson accidentally knocked his cup over on Saturday," I continue. "Xander was trying to blame himself for it even though it wasn''t, and it was after the point where he''d stopped drinking from it. He tried to refuse the offer to replace it, but Mr. Richardson was insistent that it was fine and got a new cup for him. Xander was hesitant to drink from it at first, but then started drinking from it fine. It was really strange. But like I said, he''s a cool dude and we love hanging out with him. We''ve all got our quirks!"

    That gets Collin thinking for a bit. Should I mention that Xander had seemed super stressed and like he was going to cry over the spilled drink? Probably not, they''d probably just think he''s dumb and acting like a little kid.

    "Any other weird quirks?" Bo asks. "He did seem a bit strange."

    "Strange, but awesome!" I say. "He tends to be really literal about a lot of things, which Mr. Richardson said probably comes from his Autism. Oh! Also, do not try to steal food from his plate. We sometimes grab stuff off of each other''s plates, but Xander refuses to touch his plate again if you take something off of it, and he won''t get more."

    We learned that the hard way on Saturday. That really is something we just do all the time, stealing each other''s fries or grapes of chips or whatever. It''s all in good fun and I guess we didn''t think Xander would have an issue while we were doing it. He''s just one of us, and Sam hadn''t even thought we needed to not treat him exactly like us with that.

    I was sure Xander was going to cry, too, and no amount of apologizing helped. The dads sent us off to play some more, and when we finally came back to see if Xander was fine, he was quieter and calmer, but I just thought he was tired. They did tell us that they managed to get him to eat more, but it was definitely from a different plate since we could see the one we''d taken from in the trash, along with the half-eaten burger.

    "And if you see him eating food from little containers, do not mention it. The dads all told us to never mention it if we see Xander doing that, that we need to pretend like we didn''t notice. They said that Xander feels food insecure, and the small containers of snacks he keeps on him is his dad''s way of trying to help him overcome that."

    "S.G.?" Collin asks.

    "Yeah?"

    "Think maybe that''s why he doesn''t eat from his plate anymore if someone takes from it?" Collin asks. "If he feels food insecure, it means he doesn''t know if he''ll have food, or if he''ll be able to have food. If someone''s taking from his plate, he may be feeling like he''s not allowed to eat from it anymore. That he has to give it up to someone else."

    Oh.

    Oh crap. I hadn''t thought about that at all. And I know a lot more about him than they do, too. He probably thinks it''s being taken away, and he probably thinks that if he stops eating, he''s not allowed more.

    Crap, crap, crap, crap! We really messed up!

    I gotta talk with the dads and figure out how we can fix it. I know it''s been a week, but it''s probably still on Xander''s mind.

    <hr>

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Xander," the lemon-blueberry cookie says. "Xaaaaander¡­ Xander. We''re at the ranch. Xaaaander."

    The cookie needs to do what all good cookies do and enter my stomach.

    "Ouch!" It exclaims. "Xander! Biting! Biting! Xander!"

    That doesn''t taste like a cookie.

    "I''m not a cookie! I''m a human!" Why does the cookie sound like it''s laughing?

    You really look like a cookie to me.

    "What kind of cookie?"

    Lemon with blueberries.

    "I''m a human!" It''s definitely laughing.

    You certainly taste like one. It''s like when I bite my arm.

    "That''s because it was my arm, Xander, you''re dreaming!" It almost couldn''t talk from its laughter.

    Dreaming? Oh. It sounds like Russell.

    I open my eyes to find Russell smiling and giggling quietly as he examines his arm, where there''s a very clear bite mark.

    "Oh, my goodness!" I exclaim. "I''m so sorry! I didn''t meant to bite you, Russell! I was dreaming and there was a talking lemon-blueberry cookie and I thought I was just eating a dream cookie and I didn''t realize it was you and-"

    "I''m fine," he laughs a little. "You''ve got a really powerful bite."

    "I''m sorry!" I put a hand over the wound but don''t touch it. "Here! I learned this from Greyson! I''m really sorry and I know you probably hate me now but I really am-"

    "Xander, I don''t hate you and the pain is gone?" He pulls his arm away. "Hey! You healed it! Wait, you know healing magic?"

    "I saw Greyson use the spell before."

    "That''s pretty cool," he says. "Come on and get out of the truck, we''re at the ranch!"

    "But why aren''t you mad at me?" I ask. "I bit you!"

    "You were dreaming!" He grins at me. "It''s all cool! Come on! Let''s go!"

    How does me being dreaming make it okay for me to bite someone? I look at Trey, but he just gestures for me to get out of the truck.

    The entire way to the building, I keep expecting Russell to suddenly get mad at me for biting him, but he just¡­ doesn''t? That''s so weird.

    "Alright!" Mr. Martins, Carter''s dad, says once we''re all in front of the main building. "Everyone who''s here from the beta test, raise your hand if you want to ride a horse down to the lake!"

    Carter, S.G., Tate, Bo, Connor, Luke, Parker, and Tyler all raise a hand from the boys, while a few of the parents do. Even though Sam and Isaac were going to come and hang out with S.G. and the other boys as well, they didn''t want to go riding. That was something I knew from the discussions of who wanted to do what.

    We were all assured that we wouldn''t have to go riding if we didn''t want to.

    "Okay!" Mr. Martins says. "We do have alternate transportation. To those of you wanting to ride a horse, you do need to change into pants and riding boots for the ride, for safety purposes. If you don''t have those, you won''t be able to."

    "I don''t! I don''t!" Carter waves a hand while jumping in the air.

    "Sure you don''t," his dad rolls his eyes. "Anyone else?"

    Carter''s not in trouble for lying?

    "Uh¡­ I don''t have riding boots," Connor says. "I didn''t know we needed special boots for it."

    "It''s a safety thing," S.G. tells him. "It helps keep your feet in the stirrups, but also prevents them from getting stuck if you fall."

    "I got you a pair," Mr. Thompson tells him. "So you''ve got some; they''re in your backpack. They''re not properly broken in, but I was told that wouldn''t be a problem for riding?"

    "Shouldn''t just for this," Mr. Martins tells him. "Alright, for those of you who want to go riding, head on inside and get changed! Everyone else, we''ve got an alternative arranged. You can head toward the back with me. Yes, Xander?"

    I lower my hand.

    "Can I change, too?" I ask. "I put on this outfit for the demonstration."

    "Sure," he says. "Go on in with the others."

    I head inside and follow Carter and them to the changing room for boys. There are already some bags in here, though Bo, Connor, Luke, Parker, and Tyler brought bags with them. I''m going to guess the other ones are for Carter, S.G., and Tate. They spent the night here and there are three backpacks that were already in here.

    Well, and a duffel bag, for some reason, but I''m not sure whose that could be.

    "There are private changing stalls there," S.G. tells me while pointing.

    "Okay."

    I head into one of them and pull the curtain closed, then very quickly change into an outfit from my backpack. Since this is a ranch, I pull on a buttonup shirt in addition to jeans, and I also put on cowboy boots I made sure to break in already. No cowboy hat, because I''m not a cowboy, but the boots are because I think it''s probably a safety thing for walking around the ranch, too. The shirt is a little bit uncomfortable, but when I looked up what people on ranches wear online, it included this.

    At least I made sure to check the shirt''s texture before buying it. While it''s a little uncomfortable, it''s not enough that I can''t wear it for very long.

    "Lookin'' good, Xander!" Luke flashes me two thumbs-ups when I exit the changing stall. "Get yourself a cowboy hat and you''d look like you''d belong!"

    They''re all still changing. I wasn''t expecting that. And I have to go past them to leave here.

    "But I''m not a cowboy," I remind him.

    "Don''t need to be one to wear one!" Carter tells me. "Most folks ''round here wear one if they ain''t wearing a normal cap!In fact¡­"

    He turns and opens up the duffel bag, then pulls out a cowboy hat that matches the ones by his and S.G.''s clothes, but with a small alteration. Instead of being just black with a flame pattern around the band, it has a small green dragon breathing the fire that creates the band.

    "Mom was going to just make it like the normal ones for this ranch," Carter tells me. "But she saw the VOD of my stream where you breathed fire and decided to customize it a little. You like the color green, right?"

    "I do," I say. "Your mom made that? How much?"

    "No!" He laughs as he holds it out. "You''re not paying for it, it''s a gift."

    "A gift?" I look in his eyes to make sure I know if he''s being honest about this.

    "Yup!" He answers. "We aren''t really friends yet, but you do seem like a cool dude and I enjoyed hanging out with you on Sunday and again today and I want to be friends, at least, as much as two kids who live three hours away from each other can be friends. And Mom likes to make sure all of my friends have their own hats."

    "You want to be my friend?"

    "Of course!" He says. "Like I said, you seem pretty cool! And I liked doing the collab with you on Sunday, and today was pretty fun! We could do other collabs, too. Like just goofing around, or freerunning."

    "What''s freerunning?"

    "Uh¡­ another time," Carter grins. "That''ll be a whole can o'' worms."

    "You put worms in cans?"

    Why would they do that? Maybe it''s to carry them to go fishing?

    "No," he snickers. "It''s just a phrase. But anyway the hat''s yours! On, and the dragon''s on the front, so you can tell which way to put it on with that, but there''s also a small design on the band inside, that shows which side is the back."

    "Hey, Xander?" Luke asks, now fully dressed in jeans, a maroon button-up, and cowboy boys. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

    "Sure?"

    That doesn''t sound good, and I follow Luke to the other side of the changing room, and he talks quietly when he speaks.

    "The reason you''re not riding," he says. "Is it because you don''t know how to ride a horse, or because of how high you''d be?"

    He knows, doesn''t he?

    "You know?"

    "Just a suspicion I had," he says. "But it''s the height thing, isn''t it?"

    "Yeah."

    "I usually come out to ride horses a few times a year," he tells me. "Let me tell you, the first time I did it, I was really scared because of the height, too."

    Luke was scared of something? I look in his eyes.

    "Really?"

    "Really," he says. "But once I was on the horse for a few minutes, I got comfortable and it was really fun. And unless you lean too much to the side, you won''t fall off. You''ve got some pretty good balance and these horses don''t spook that easily."

    "But-"

    "Hold on," he says. "I''m not saying you should ride them, Xander. I know it''s making you a bit scared. I''m just saying that I think you might enjoy it. It''s like with swimming. You get scared going in, but then start enjoying it after a few minutes, right?"

    "Yeah."

    "So think on that," he says, then looks at Carter for a moment before looking at me. "Also, both of your collab streams so far has been him doing stuff with your stuff. If you wanna stream with him doing something with his stuff, it could be him teaching you to ride a horse like you taught him hoverboarding. Not saying now of course, just something to think about for the future. Alright?"

    "A-alright."

 Chapter 0072

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "You can do that," Trey tells me.

    "Really?" I ask.

    This is really okay?

    "As long as they''re okay with it, yes," he answers. "They''ll probably say no since we''re going down to the lake, but you can still ask."

    "Okay."

    I walk over to where Carter and the others who are planning to ride the horses down to the lake are. Mr. Martins and Collin are talking with them about something. As long as I ignore the unicorn, no one is going to know I''m hallucinating. They obviously can''t see him so I know he''s a hallucination.

    He''s the same one I usually hallucinate, and has a golden coat with a silver horn, mane, and tail. If someone else had noticed him, everyone would have known by now. Unicorns are mythical, after all.

    "Hey, Xander," Mr. Martins says. "Everything alright?"

    "I don''t know," I answer. "I''m not omni-omniscented?"

    "Omniscient," he snorts. "And you don''t need to be, you just looked concerned so I was wondering if something was wrong."

    "Oh," I say. "Lots of things are wrong, but I just had a question or more. A request."

    "What''s up?"

    "The sky."

    We stare at each other for a few moments.

    "Xander?" S.G. giggles. "He was asking what you wanted."

    "Oh!" Stupid fucking me. "Sorry! I didn''t mean to be dumb, I-"

    "Xander," Mr. Martins interrupts me. "It''s fine, you can ask."

    "Oh, um, okay," I try to remember. "Oh, right. Um. Luke suggested I try riding a horse. I don''t want to because the height scares me, but I''m trying to not be so scared anymore. So I wanted to give trying a try. If that-if that was okay."

    "Sure," he says.

    "And, um¡­" this part is a big one for me, but it also scares me. It could ruin everything. "W-would it-um¡­ um¡­"

    "Here," S.G. comes over. "Can you whisper it to me?"

    "I can try," I say, and he gets close enough so I can lean in to his ear and whisper to him.

    "That''s what you want to do?" He asks, and I nod. He looks at Mr. Martins. "He wanted to know if he can stream learning how to ride, like how Carter streamed learning how to ride a hoverboard."

    "Yeah!" Carter exclaims, causing me to jump back a little. That was loud! "Dad! Can I be the one to teach him?"

    "With supervision," Mr. Martins tells him, then looks at me. "Sure, you can do that."

    "Okay," I say. "I''m gonna go let Trey know."

    I let Trey know that I was approved for it, then swap into my streaming glasses while he gets ready to moderate the chat, assuring me that he''ll be able to do it better from the wagons rather than going with us on a horse. That kind of makes sense, since he''ll not have to focus on riding while moderation.

    "Hi, everyone," I say once I start the stream and start walking back over to where those riding horses are gathered. "I''m back again for a second stream today, and I''m at Carter''s family''s ranch. They raise flaremane horses, as I''m sure those of you who are fans of Carter''s know. I''m gonna learn how to ride one, but they kind of scare me. Oh, and the only camera this time is the one on my glasses, so that''s why you''re seeing the ground. Uh¡­ lemme look up. Okay, so-what unicorn?"

    Some of the chatters just asked about the unicorn. They''re probably trying to mess with me.

    "You guys can see a unicorn?" I ask as I reach the group.

    "No?" S.G. looks around. "No unico-ah! Unicorn!"

    Everyone else turns and looks at the unicorn¡­

    "Wait. You''re not a hallucination?"

    "You thought you were hallucinating a unicorn?" Carter asks.

    "Yeah."

    "That''s not-that''s not a hallucination," he looks like he''s trying not to laugh. "That''s a freaking unicorn!" Now he looks confused. "But aren''t they myths?"

    The unicorn approaches me and looks down at me, lightly tapping my head with its horn before moving to stand sideways to me.

    "But why would you want to be my mount?" I ask. "I''m just a stupid, dumb, ugly kid? S.G. and Carter are way better options. They''re a lot more sociable and awesome. And S.G. is super smart."

    The unicorn looks at me again.

    "I am ugly!"

    "Are not!" Carter says. "You''re one of the cutest guys I know! Wait. Are you arguing with the unicorn?"

    "He said I''m not ugly."

    "He knows what he''s talking about," Carter says. "And¡­ he really seems to want you to ride him. I don''t think we have gear suitable for a unicorn."

    I look at the unicorn for a moment, then to Carter.

    "He says he''s got some of his own, but he wants me to do the normal stuff first."

    People in the chat are really trying to claim this is fake, and that''s annoying me. It''s not fake, I was going to try and ignore him like I usually do! But he apparently wants me to ride him.

    "Aurum," Grandpa Adrian suddenly appears. "Why are you causing a commotion? No, don''t give me that. You can''t fool me. Yes, I''m aware of that."

    "What''s he saying?" Carter leans in and whispers to me, a little too closely.

    "Aurum," I whisper. "I think that''s the unicorn''s name. Aurum''s saying that unicorns choose to be invisible simply because they can be and that there''s no real reason for them to not show themselves if they want."

    Grandpa Adrian and the unicorn continue to argue for a minute, with Grandpa Adrian continuing to refuse to accept the unicorn''s answers as being the reason he''s showing himself. I tell Carter some of it, but the unicorn''s messages are a lot longer when spoken aloud, so I can''t fully keep up.

    "Aurum," Grandpa Adrian sighs. "You heard that he was going to stream learning to ride and decided you wanted to be on TV, didn''t you?"

    "The answer to that is ''yes''," I whisper to Carter, who snickers.

    Grandpa Adrian sighs again, then looks at me.

    "I''ll be releasing an official statement about this after returning home," he tells me. "As I''m sure plenty are calling this fake or edited with your augmented reality things. It''s very much real, as I''ll say in my statement. Unicorns usually hide themselves, and Aurum apparently wants to be a star. It''s safe to ride him, all unicorns are smooth and gentle rides. You enjoy the rest of your day, alright, Xander?"

    "I''ll try," I tell him, then he vanishes, and I look at the unicorn. "You''re just wanting to use me to get popular, aren''t you?" I look at Carter. "The answer to that is also ''yes''. I don''t think he realizes I''m not that popular, and my chat being mean is proof of it."

    "Your chat''s being mean?" Carter asks. "Seriously?"

    "Yeah."

    "Well, anyone being mean is a loser who should get banned," he says. "Come on! I''ll teach you how to prepare a horse for riding!"

    Preparing a horse ¨C or unicorn ¨C for riding involves things like brushing him down. Actually putting on his gear is a little bit more complicated than that, and Aurum summons white-and-silver gear for me. Then, finally, I''m allowed to mount him.

    That''s the scariest part of it, and my heart starts racing at the very thought of it.

    "Come on, Xander!" S.G. calls out. "You can do it!"

    "It''s so big it''s so high it''s so big it''s so big it''s so big it''s so high-"

    "You can do it!" Carter calls out.

    "Yeah!" Luke adds. "You can do it, Xander! Just swing on up like he showed you!"

    They all start trying to encourage me, but Aurum is so big, so high. I can''t do it. I can''t do it. I can''t do it. Even chat is trying to encourage me. But it''s too much. I can''t do it.

    Maybe if I close my eyes, and teleport, and-

    "Eep!" I close my eyes and lean forward, wrapping my arms around Aurum''s neck.

    That was too much! And it forced my legs to move apart a bit because they couldn''t fit inside of Aurum and the spell prevents stuff like that. So it forced my legs to split apart so they''re on either side of him.

    "Did¡­ did he just teleport onto the unicorn?" Bo asks.

    "Yeah, he does that," Luke says. "Xander, feet in the stirrups and grab the reins! You''ll be a lot safer and less likely to fall off!"

    "Thisisfinethisisfinethisisfine-"

    If I let go, I''ll fall. I''ll fall for sure. There''s no way I''m letting go.

    Someone just came near me. I heard the horse moving closer.

    "Xander?" S.G. asks.

    "I''m gonna fall if I let go."

    "Did you know I''m scared of heights, too?"

    "But you ride horses fine," I say.

    "Yeah," he says. "It takes bigger heights than this for me to get scared. Want to know what I do when I have to deal with heights that make me dizzy, and sometimes hyperventilate?"

    Hyperventilate¡­ that sounds familiar. Am I doing it right now?

    "Maybe you told me before?" I ask. "I think you told me ''bout you and heights when you were over to help with my swimming lessons."

    "Maybe I did?" S.G. seems unsure. "But anyway, wanna know what I do?"

    "W-what''s that?"

    "I take some deep breaths," he says. "And keep my gaze away from the ground. Instead of looking at how far down things are, I look straight forward. I try to think about things like the trees around me, or the magic beasts I can spot. Mr. Richardson suggested I do that, and it helps me a lot whenever I have to deal with heights."

    "But if I open my eyes, I''ll see the ground."

    "Sure," S.G. says. "But like Luke said, you''ll be a lot less likely to fall if you put your feet in the stirrups and grip the reins. And even if you do somehow fall, well¡­ I fall all the time. But I always get back up and go back to having fun."

    "I''ll just break my arm again."

    Just like when I was skateboarding.

    "Your body''s a lot tougher now," he says. "It''s gotten stronger, remember? And I bet you know a magic that lets you strengthen your body, to make it even less likely to get hurt. If you turn that on, I bet you''ll be able to survive anything."

    Probably not anything, but he''s right. I do know a spell that can strengthen my body. A fall from this high probably won''t hurt me if I turn it on, so I do. But this is still really bad. I''m still so high up.

    "Remember to get your feet in your stirrups," S.G. tells me.

    I do as he says as another horse comes up close on the other side.

    "That was a pretty smooth job," Carter says. "It''s your first time riding, right?"

    "Y-yeah."

    "Ain''t ever seen someone put them in properly first try," he says. ''They usually want to shove their foot in too far or barely in at all."

    "This is what it feels like it looks like you guys do."

    "And it''s a good job," he says. "I''ll take over from here, S.G. Xander, slide your hands down a little and take the reins. You''re very unlikely to fall and even if you do, I can catch you, just like you caught me the other day."

    "But you''re on a horse."

    "I''m trained in a variety of magics," he says. "I know how to use magic to create air cushions to catch people who fall off of horses. Dad makes sure everyone who leads trail rides or gives lessons knows how and can do it in an instant, and he taught me how even before I was old enough for him to consider allowing me to do those. Can you look at me for a moment? I want to show you something."

    I don''t want to, but I move my head so it''s on that side of Aurum''s neck, then I crack open an eye. Carter''s holding an apple in his hand, and he tosses it up into the air. As it drops back down, he points and it suddenly moves slowly, then begins bobbing in the air in place.

    That was air magic. He really did cast it instantly, and it does look like an air magic spell. I quickly close my eye again, though. I''m so high up.

    "How come you made the spell go bwii-bwoo instead of braa-braa?"

    "I don''t¡­ know what that means," Carter says.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "In the bwoom-bwiim part," I say. "When you shaped it, you made it go bwii-bwoo instead of braa-braa. If you make it go braa-braa instead, that makes the bobbing intentional instead of accidental. Or if you made it go bwaa-bwaa instead, there''d be no bobbing."

    "I don''t-I don''t understand what you''re saying," Carter says. "Sorry. Um¡­ I''m not as versed in the more in-depth magical stuff as you, I''m mostly limited to what I''ve learned here on the ranch and some stuff I''ve looked up or learned from friends."

    "It might not be you," Luke snickers. "I think I know what he''s talking about. The spell is designed to replace air that''s lost, right?"

    "Yeah," Carter answers. "It''s a pretty efficient spell that generates air to act as a cushion, so it''s constantly generating new air while the other air is moved to the side."

    "That''s what he''s referring to," Luke tells him. "The ''accidental bobbing'' he''s referring to is the bobbing caused by the loss and creation of air, and I think the variation he''s suggesting keeps the air without ruining the cushioning effect, but adjusts it in a way that causes the bobbing. And the last one recycles the air as well, but doesn''t create the bobbing effect. Right, Xander?"

    "Yeah."

    "And before you ask about the thing on Sunday," Luke says. "I honestly couldn''t translate that one for you. But you see, Xander? Even if you fall, you won''t get hurt. You''ve got your strengthening magic, and Carter''s got his cushioning magic. So it''s okay to open your eyes and sit up."

    "Also," S.G. says. "If you come with us on this path, you''ll get to see the cliff that gave me my fear of heights. We go by it to get to the lake when riding horses."

    That can''t be right.

    "But didn''t you say your parents have never been out here?" I look at him.

    "Yeah," he says. "Why?"

    "But you told me that you were on a camping trip with your parents when you fell off a cliff."

    I wasn''t looking in his eyes when he told me about it, but I remember it now. We were in the changing rooms at home and I was changing, not looking at him. Unless my memory of that is fucked up, since it was from before my brain got fixed, he definitely said he was camping with his parents.

    "Well¡­ I lied," S.G. admits. "It''s easier to say I was with my parents than explain where I was and why they weren''t around. And we''re gonna go by that cliff. Have to, to get to the lake by the good trail for it. And like I said, I''m scared of heights. It''s smaller heights like riding a horse or the smaller cliff jumps I do with my friends that helps me. And like I said, when I start getting scared, I take some deep breaths and focus on the rest of the scenery. The trees above me. The magic beasts I can spot in the distance. Stuff like that. It''s how I handle it. So we can do it together, okay?"

    "I¡­ I''m not sure I can try?"

    "Really?" He asks. "Because you''re sitting up and looking at me."

    It''s only when he says that do I realize that I am. As soon as I do, my heart starts pounding really hard. The ground is so far away.

    "Don''t look at the ground," Carter says. "Look at me, Xander. Look at me. Make sure to take the reins, it''s important for steering a horse. Er. Unicorn. Actually, I don''t know the differences between horses and unicorns enough to know if there''s a difference, but we''ll just treat it like it''s the same."

    "Someone in chat just said the military released a statement about the unicorn," I tell him.

    "Really?" He asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "They said that the military has acknowledged that unicorns are real, but usually use invisibility magic to keep themselves hidden. Also that since Grandpa Adrian has made an announcement stating the reveal of one, then they''ll stand by his claim and acknowledge that one has revealed himself to the public. Also, I think my dad banned all of the bad chatters. Everyone''s being really nice now."

    "That''s good," he says. "It''s always better when chats are nice. Back to the lesson. Grab the reins, Xander. Keep looking at me, I''m gonna move in front of you. Okay, like that. Now let''s slowly do the lesson so you can ride with us down to the lake."

    Before we do that, I use telekinesis to pick my new cowboy hat up from the ground (without looking down). It already has magics to strengthen it, so it didn''t take any damage from my pressing my head against Aurum''s neck, which is probably what knocked the hat off of my head.

    Carter starts teaching me about riding a horse and how to direct them. Luke wasn''t wrong when he told me I''d enjoy it after a few minutes. Well, he was wrong about the "few minutes" bit, but by the time the fifteen minutes of the lesson are over, I''m enjoying it a lot. The distance to the ground still makes me shake and my heart race if I think about it too much, but it''s otherwise really fun.

    After we''re on the trail for a few minutes, I end the stream as the stream was mostly for me learning to ride a horse, just like with Carter learning to ride a hoverboard. With the stream ended, I use teleport magic to swap back to my regular glasses, so that I don''t have the AR ones on me when I don''t need them.

    The trail itself is really nice, and I keep spotting a lot of animals that only Luke can spot. And he says he can only spot them because he can feel their electrical signals.

    "How did you even see that?" S.G. asks after I point out a bird that comes into view a few moments later.

    "I could hear him," I say. "And see him? The tree didn''t hide him that well."

    "I couldn''t see him at all until he moved into view," S.G. says.

    But he was already in view.

    We keep looking for different magic beasts that live in the woods here, and eventually reach the cliff that S.G. told me about. It doesn''t really look like a cliff at first because we''re a decent distance away from it, but only when I really look at it do I realize that there''s a big drop. I am not going too close to it.

    About ten minutes later, we come to a fork in the path and take the left-hand one, which leads us down another trail which takes us around the cliff and down to the bottom of it, where the lake is. Some people are already there, though not the people who came in the wagons. Ranch employees and some parents.

    They''re cooking up a lot of meat and other things on barbecue pits and stuff, and it smells really good.

    Once we''re here, we all dismount and Carter shows Connor and me how to properly remove the gear from a horse and brush them down. This way, they don''t have to deal with carrying the gear when not being ridden for hours.

    S.G. and the others want to change into swim trunks and charge to the lake now, but they''re realizing that they need to find a spot to change.

    "Hold on, boys," Mr. Martins says. "No swimming just yet. Y''all haven''t eaten in hours and have been pretty active, get some food first. Dinner won''t be ready for another hour and a half, but there are snacks on the tables."

    "Aye aye, Captain!" S.G., Carter, Tate, and Bo all salute to him, then charge toward the table with Connor, Luke, Parker, and Tyler.

    Even if there was a spot to change into swim trunks, I wouldn''t go swimming. There are way too many people around, and too many strangers. I''d be way too exposed.

    "Hey, Xander?" Collin asks as his dad starts heading toward the tables.

    Crap. I''m alone with him. I didn''t move fast enough.

    "Y-yeah?"

    He kneels down and brushes his hand over the ground, the grass vanishing, leaving just dirt behind.

    "See the cliff right there?" He points, and I nod. "Can you make a pair of rooms in it?"

    He draws in the ground with his magic, creating a layout that features an opening that he says is three feet wide, then three feet deep. That leads into a hall that''s five feet wide and twenty feet long, with another opening on the back side, the one opposite from the entrance. That leads into a big room, about twenty feet on each side. As he draws this, he draws it flipped as well.

    "One for guys," he points at one of them. "And one for gals. That way, everyone can change with some privacy. It''s something we do from time to time, if we have a big gathering down here. But we put all the dirt back after. We don''t do the big gatherings very often, it''s usually just a few guys, so privacy isn''t really needed."

    Why put all the dirt back after even if they don''t use it much? That doesn''t make sense to me.

    "You want me to make it?" I ask.

    "Not want," he says. "But you can if you''d like to. I''ve got lamps in my saddlebags so we can light the rooms up once they''re made. Just thought I''d offer it to you, since S.G. mentioned you liked helping set up."

    Collin looks over at S.G., then back at me.

    "Though I think he was trying to say to decline any help," he adds. "So that you''d try and focus on having more fun. But I figured, I''d jump the gun and offer you something you can help with, just in case you were interested. If you don''t want to help with this, you don''t have to. I''ll make it if you don''t. If you don''t want to make the rooms but do still want to help us with stuff, you can ask my mom or Mr. Cox, they''re the ones in charge of the barbecue stuff."

    "I can make the rooms," I tell him. "It''s just simple earth magic, right?"

    That should be really cheap magic. More than what S.G. has, but less than half of what Collin has. I was looking in his eyes, too, so I know he was being honest about this being something they do. He''s just wanting to offer me something I can do to help.

    Or it could be a test to see if I''m worthy of¡­ something. I don''t know what, I''m too stupid to figure that part out.

    "Okay," I nod. "Where at?"

    "Right here," he points at the cliff. "Can you do it there?"

    "Okay," I hold my hands forward and focus on my magic.

    Rectangular openings form in the side of the cliff, three feet apart, three feet wide, and seven feet tall. They lead into halls eight feet tall and five feet wide, which extend three feet back before opening up into another hall. I follow the layout Collin gave me, but add in some extras. Not all enchantments need special tools and materials, some types of runes work the moment the formula is set. I use those runes to create the enchantments I want by just carving them into the stone with my magic.

    That''s another thing I do ¨C convert the dirt of the walls, floors, and ceilings into stone.

    "Do I see light?" Collin asks.

    "Yeah," I answer. "So that you don''t have to waste fuel on the lanterns, I carved some runes into the walls of the tunnels to create light. It''s not massively bright, but if I did it right, everyone should be able to see fine inside. There''s a bigger version on the ceilings in the changing rooms."

    "It looks like you destroyed the soil," he says. "We normally just dump it off to the side, then fill it back in and use magic to restore it to a natural state after."

    "I can use time magic to undo it."

    He looks like he''s trying to say something for a few moments, then freezes for a moment before letting out what breath he has left in a quiet snort.

    "Let''s check inside to make sure it''s lit well," he says.

    We enter the changing room for the guys, and it looks like both the tunnel and the ceiling runes were set properly. Bright enough to see by, but not too bright.

    "Xander?"

    "Yes, Collin?"

    "What''s that back opening for?"

    "Another hallway."

    "The design only had one hall," he says. "Where does that one lead."

    "Um¡­ sorry!" I say. "I know it''s not what you asked for, but isn''t everyone supposed to scrub off before and after going swimming? So I made showers, too. Also with magic runes."

    I show him the showers, which is through another tunnel like the one for entering the changing rooms. The showers chamber is as big as the first room, but the light runes are spaced out on the walls instead of being a massive one set onto the ceiling.

    On the ceiling are four large runic setups, spaced equally from each other and the walls. They generate heated cleaning water in a sort of waterfall-like pattern, but in several circles. The floor of this room is slightly sloped down to the center, where another rune is carved. That rune destroys the water and whatever the cleaning water didn''t manage to cleanse, just in case it carries with it dirt and stuff.

    "I know the water is supposed to destroy stuff like that," I tell Collin as I explain the setup. "But I wanted to be sure, just in case. And the destruction rune won''t harm people. It only works on things like water and dirt and blood and diseases. Oh, and there are runes at the entrance to the room, in the doorway. Those keep the steam from escaping."

    "You used a more ancient rune set for this," he says. "Isn''t it more difficult to work with them?"

    "I find them easy to use," I say. "But they don''t work as well for magic items or magitech."

    "Oh," he says. "Okay. Thanks for the added showers, Xander. Some might appreciate those. And I noticed you shaped some of the soil into stone benches in the changing room, too."

    "Yeah," I nod. "So that people can sit while changing, if they need or want to."

    "That''s pretty cool," he says. "Come on, let''s get out of here. S.G. says you like to sneak snacks from your backpack ¨C let me show you a good spot for hiding while doing that. It''ll be hard for others to notice you there."

    <hr>

    [Luke ¨C 13 years]

    "Dudes," I flop onto the hotel bed after my shower. "Even I''m wiped after today. I don''t think I could babble if I tried."

    Parker and Tyler are both in my bedroom in the suite, chilling on my bed. My parents have their own room, Tyler gets his own, his dad gets his own, and Parker and I are sharing this one. The beds are big enough that we won''t touch so it''s fine, and it''s not like we don''t have sleepovers all the time, anyway. We don''t mind sharing so Tyler can get his own room instead of sharing with his dad, when we''re offering them to stay in the suite with us.

    Seems we''re going to get to talk a little before actually getting some sleep.

    "That game was pretty fun," Tyler says. "The one Xander made, with its different modes. He really made that just so he could play first-person shooters with his friends in a way he understands?"

    "Xander''s mind is a mysterious thing," I say. "It''s mostly filled with fear, self-deprecation, cheesecake, a desire to hang out with friends, and something a little extra. Not sure what, but it makes him view things a bit weirdly. Doesn''t understand zombie shooters? Make entirely new tech that even the military is interested in so that you can play it more live."

    "I think Xander doesn''t really understand video games," Parker says. "So it''s easier for him to process it like this. Though I do think that having the zombie label on all of them was a bit much. Definitely gonna put that in the feedback form. We didn''t really need that."

    "We did in his mind," I snicker. "It''s a mysterious thing. But anyway. Off of Xander, or I''ll fall asleep before asking. What''d you think of them, Tyler? The horses and ranch, I mean."

    "It was pretty neat," he says. "And getting to see a unicorn¡­ holy fuck. They''re real and they like Xander."

    "One," Parker says. "One likes Xander, and it seemed like it just wanted to be on a stream for attention. Maaaaan I forgot how sore I get riding horses. I still haven''t recovered from yesterday."

    "Tell me about it," Tyler groans. "I think I was sitting wrong. Should''ve gone on the wagons today."

    "Nah," I say. "That''s probably just the normal feeling. So worth it to ride the horses, though! Those other boys were fun to play with! Wish we could be friends, but I think that''s too much to ask for. We seem pretty different."

    "Yeah," Parker says. "I like ''em and all but I much prefer just riding there. The big barbecue thing was more of a party than a hangout."

    "Yup!" I say. "Hey, do you guys think they''ll do that again after next week''s beta test?"

    "Probably not," Tyler says. "I feel like that was just them doing it not knowing there''d be more, and they''ll keep it to just the one. It was pretty cool, though. And those pies were amazing. I wonder who made them?"

    "Dunno," I say. "There was a lot of dessert there. You''d think with how much I ate, I''d still be hyper, but I really think I''m gonna fall asleep. You two can stay and chat if you want, but don''t be surprised if I end up asleep halfway through, alright?"

    <hr>

    [Sig ¨C 13 years]

    "Has anyone seen Xander?" Mr. Caldwell walks over to us. "He disappeared a little bit ago and I haven''t seen him since, and he''s not answering his phone."

    We haven''t seen Xander in awhile. He occasionally disappeared throughout the afternoon, but I just figured he was sneaking his snacks. I really want to know how much space is in that backpack of his. He''s got many containers of snacks, drinks, Trenton hides in there, I''m pretty sure I saw a large leviathan plushie briefly, he''s got all of the AR stuff, a laptop, changes of clothes, extra shoes, and even a ton of desserts. When it came time for those to start getting put out, Tate, Carter, and Bo told me they saw Xander sneaking pies and a platter of cookies onto the table.

    "He was playing with us," I tell Mr. Caldwell. "But said he was going to go do something. I think we were starting to roughhouse a little too much again, even if we were careful not to roughhouse him. We offered to switch to another game, but he said it was fine and that he was gonna do something else."

    We''ve been throwing a ball around, but it started involving a little bit of tackling. Luke, Parker, and Tyler left awhile ago, so it''s just my friends, Bo, and Russell over here right now. Since we wanted to make sure Xander wasn''t left out, we stopped swimming for a bit but were just talking about heading back into the water since it seemed like he was done playing.

    "Yeah," Russell says. "Did you ask the other adults? I know he was helping them from time to time."

    "I did," Mr. Caldwell says.

    "Want us to help look?" Russell, Carter, and I ask at the same time.

    "No," Mr. Caldwell answers. "Xander could be over by the horses, I haven''t checked there yet and I know he was talking to the unicorn a few times."

    "I still can''t believe those are real!" I exclaim.

    "And that one likes Xander!" Connor adds.

    "And that Xander apparently sees him all the time!" Sam adds.

    "Even when he''s invisible!" Isaac finishes.

    "Pretty amazing, huh?" Mr. Caldwell looks like he doesn''t really know how to react. "I''m going to go check over there, you boys keeping having fun."

    "Will do!" We tell him.

    Since Xander''s definitely done playing with us for now if he''s disappeared like that, we decide to head back into the lake and throw the ball around in there, chasing and swimming to catch it or interfere with others. I can see Mr. Caldwell checking by the horses and in the changing rooms, but Xander''s apparently not there, either.

    Then he talks with Collin, who''s chilling on some boulders. Collin gives him a confused look, then does something that looks like a snort, then tells Mr. Caldwell something before getting up and heading into the woods. I don''t see him again for a few minutes but when I do, he''s returning with Xander, who looks extremely sleepy.

    "What is it?" Connor asks as I start laughing.

    "I think Xander fell asleep somewhere by accident," I say. "Look at him, he definitely looks sleepy. And since Collin apparently knew exactly where he was, I think your brother knew, Carter."

    "Knew?" Carter looks over there. "Wait. Did Collin go into the woods and return with him?"

    "Yeah," I nod.

    "Ooooh!" Carter says. "I know where Xander was. There''s a hidden spot over there Collin must''ve shown him for if he wanted to get away from the noise but still be close by. He must''ve gotten comfortable in there and fallen asleep."

    "He does get pretty worn-out when socializing and playing," Sam says.

    "Yeah," Russell says. "I think that means it''s probably time for us to get going."

    "You can camp with us if you want," Carter tells him. "You seem pretty cool and we''ll be camping here again tonight."

    "No," Russell shakes his head. "I don''t think my parents will like that."

    "Alright!" Carter says. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Russell! Hope to see you again next weekend!"

    We all bid goodbye to Russell, who then changes and joins his parents, Xander, and Mr. Caldwell. They talk with Collin, who then hooks one of the wagons up to a horse. Xander''s too sleepy to ride a horse on his own and the others don''t want to ride, and the unicorn must have gone invisible again because I can''t see him anymore.

    I kind of wish Xander was camping here with us, I''m sure he''d love it. Also, is he leaning against Russell? I think he just fell asleep again. Man, he must really be tired.

    A ball of water striking me in the back of my head draws my attention away from that, and I turn around to find the other guys grinning at me.

    "Who did that?" I ask.

    Everyone starts pointing at someone else, though I know it had to be either Tate, Carter, or Bo since it was a ball of water and not a ball filled with water. They''re the only other mages here right now.

    I look at Connor.

    "It was you, wasn''t it?"

    As he protests the accusation, I swim toward him as quickly as I can and do my best to dunk him, and that restarts the goofing around. I''m so glad everyone''s getting along since it''s not likely we''ll be able to hang out like this very often. I want to make the most of the time we''ve got before we have to leave. Better to make the most of things now and have a lot of fun than to not and regret it tomorrow!

 Chapter 0073

    [Xander ¨C 12 years]

    "Trey?" I ask as we enter Dragon Falls.

    "Yes, Xander?"

    "I wasn''t able to do the usual Saturday afternoon stuff yesterday because we weren''t in town and I was busy," I tell him. "Is it okay if I go to the businesses and walk around a bit, then go to the Wolf''s Dragon? I want to go to the pet store to pet the dogs, but that''s only on Saturdays."

    "They only have them on Saturdays?" He asks. "Not Sundays, too?"

    "The pet store is attached to the shelter," I tell him. "They have them there every day. But petting the dogs is only Saturdays."

    "Petting the dogs¡­ isn''t going to the Wolf''s Dragon only Saturdays, too?"

    "No," I answer. "That''s just usually Saturdays. Not always. And I sometimes go there to treat myself, too. Like my birthday last year. And I want to treat myself, too, so I want to get two cheesecake slices. I only messed up a little bit during the demonstration, not a ton like I thought I would."

    "You did very good yesterday," he tells me. "You can go to the businesses and the Wolf''s Dragon. Where do you want me to drop you off at?"

    "Can you drop me off at the park?"

    "Sure," he answers. "I wanted to talk with you about something that came up during the demonstration."

    We talked about the demonstration a bit on the drive back here today and I thought we were done. Is there something else? He said I did good and can go do stuff, so I don''t think I''m in trouble for something.

    "Okay."

    "I''m not going to use the AR stuff to assign you more chores."

    Is he sure he''s not psychic?

    "Why do you think I made it for that?"

    "Xander," he snorts. "You ask me almost every day if you''re getting new chores. The only reason you even received the chore of your laundry is because you wouldn''t stop asking. You don''t need to fill your free time with chores. Just focus on being a boy and having fun. Keeping your bathroom clean, your laundry done, and not leaving food out where you eat if you eat in your room, the theater, or somewhere else is more than enough. And I have a housekeeper who does most everything that would be assigned as a chore for you, too."

    "But kids have chores!" I whine a little, then realize I messed up. "I-I''m sorry! I-"

    "Does Luke have chores?"

    "He says he just has to keep his room clean," I say. "And even that''s as flexible as it is for mine. As long as he doesn''t leave gross stuff out, it''s fine. I think he was meaning food and dirty clothes, but maybe his towel from showers. That should always get hung up so it doesn''t start to smell. Oh, and he has to do his own laundry. He said his parents started that when he turned thirteen."

    "That''s about the same as you," Trey points out.

    "Yeah, but Luke works for a multi-billion dollar company and actually performs major contributions and has a bank account of his own with millions in it from his earnings alone."

    "And you invented something that didn''t even exist yet and make a minimum of twenty grand each time one is purchased," Trey counters. "And that means only fifty sales is a million dollars. Didn''t your great-grandpa say they already have more than two dozen orders?

    That logic is hard to argue with.

    "Can I ask Russell if he wants to visit the businesses and the Wolf''s Dragon with me?" I ask. "Not as a date. Just hanging out. I''d ask the S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac if they wanted to go, too, but they only left Autumn Hills a little bit ago so they won''t be around for awhile. And I think they''re all really sleepy, too, since they were up really late last night."

    I know this because they posted stuff in the group chat for me to see once I woke up. It looked like they were having a lot of fun, but I don''t think I could have done that. Even if I weren''t too tired for it, they were all swimming in the lake again, among other things.

    "You can," Trey says. "Though know that he might decline since he might be tired from the trip. Riding in a car for hours can exhaust people."

    "It can?"

    "It can," he says. "Even you slept for a bit. And his parents might be more strict on letting him hang out with just you than I am. I don''t mind it if it''s somewhere public, like the park or going for a walk through a business district to say hello to the workers, but his parents might."

    "Oh, okay," I pull out my phone.

    "Will you be eating lunch while out, too?" Trey asks.

    "Is that okay?

    "It is."

    "Then I will," I tell him. "I''ll probably eat at the sub shop. Oh. Grandpa Adrian wants to talk with me at Greyson''s workshop."

    I open up the messages with Russell and send him the invitation to hang out.

    <u>[Xander]</u>: Want to hang out? I''m going to the mage district on Mystic Wave Avenue and then the Wolf''s Dragon for cheesecake after.

    <u>[Xander]</u>: THIS IS NOT A DATE!!!

    <u>[Xander]</u> It''s just a hangout.

    <u>[Xander]</u>: I would invite S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac but they''re not back yet. And the cheesecake is because I didn''t do it yesterday.

    "Now?" Trey asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Want me to drop you off here?" He asks. "I know you''ll just teleport there."

    How did he already know that?

    "Okay."

    Trey pulls to the side of the road.

    "Let me know when you head to the business district," he tells me. "And when you head to the Wolf''s Dragon, alright?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Have a good day, Xander."

    "You, too, Trey."

    I get out of the truck and watch as Trey leaves, then I use my magic to prevent myself from being noticed by those around me as I teleport to the workshop, then cancel the unnoticing spell. When I enter the building, Grandpa Adrian is at the edge of my work zone, and I walk over to him. There are some crates sitting beside him, though outside of my zone rather than in.

    "Did I mess up during the demonstration and beta test?" I ask.

    "Not in any big way," he says. "I came here to drop off a few more materials for you, they''re in the crates right here," he taps the crate beside him. "I know you don''t like people entering your space without asking, so I set them here."

    "You wanted me to come here just to tell me that?" I ask. "Aren''t you a really busy person?"

    "No," he chuckles. "I didn''t ask you to come here about that. I wanted to ask about something I noticed in your zone. There''s a very secure lockbox sitting over there with a label on it that says ''GREYSON: DO NOT TOUCH'' on it."

    He doesn''t say anything else, so I''m confused. He just wanted to comment about it?

    "I wanted to know about it," he says.

    That makes more sense. Stupid me. That should have been obvious.

    "Oh," I look at the box, then back to Grandpa Adrian. "Greyson doesn''t normally enter someone else''s space unless given permission, but I wanted to make extra sure he doesn''t touch that box."

    "Because of the gun inside?"

    He went in and looked? What else did he mess with?

    "How did you know about that?"

    "I can see through obfuscation enchantments just as well as you can," he tells me. "You inherited your perspicacity and senses from me."

    So that came from him? I guess it''s from his dragon genes, though I didn''t think I inherited that much of them. Him using those is a lot better than entering my space without permission. Even if he''s an adult, that''s still very rude and mean.

    "If I''m not mistaking the enchantments on the gun," he looks over at the box. "That''s designed for combating zombies?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "And I know it''s illegal for me to have a gun on me outside of certain situations, that''s why I locked it up instead of carrying it around. And it''s nonfunctional. You can pull the trigger, but nothing happens, and not just because I don''t have a power cartridge in it. The enchantments aren''t actually finished. That makes it legal for me to have, since it''s not legally a gun since it''s nonfunctional and so is technically just a toy."

    "Why did you make an anti-zombie gun?" Grandpa Adrian asks. "Even if a nonfunctional one?"

    "So I knew how to design the toy ones for the AR set," I answer. "I can just make anti-zombie bullets with my magic so that''s what I did to know what they looked like for the game. But I wanted to know what the design would look like for a gun, so I made one that had most of the enchantments so I knew what its design needed to be at a minimum. But I do promise that you can''t use it. I only secured it to reduce the chances of Greyson attempting to finish it. I really do promise that it''s not usable, that''d be illegal for me to make and use."

    "Do you mind if I take it?" He asks.

    "Not at all," I answer. "The more out of view of Greyson''s it is, the better."

    I walk over and unlock the box, then give Grandpa Adrian the almost-gun, then I close the box and remove the label on it.

    "Thank you," Adrian says. "Do you have the blueprints for it?"

    "In my head," I tell him. "Do you want me to write them down?"

    "Doesn''t need to be today," he says. "There''s no rush on it, I just want to see what your full design would have been, if you''d completed it. I can make guesses based off of what I can see, but the only way to know for sure is to get them from you."

    I really want to know why he wants to know what my full design would be, but questioning adults about their motives is Very Bad. Trey is okay with it sometimes, and so is Katie, but they aren''t Grandpa Adrian.

    "Okay."

    "I''ll be heading off now," Grandpa Adrian tells me. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

    "You, too," I tell him, then he teleports away.

    I teleport to the mage district, then text Trey to let him know I''m there. Russell''s texted me back now so I check that, too.

    <u>[Russell]</u>: My parents said I can they''ll drop me off in a few minutes

    <u>[Xander]</u>: Okay.

    That was sent a few minutes ago, so he should be here soon. Russell and his parents left around the same time as we did so they should be back in town, so it shouldn''t be too much longer. I pull Trenton out and hold him as I wait, and it takes about ten minutes before I see Mr. Jackson''s car.

    Russell''s dad drives over to where I''m standing on the sidewalk and stops.

    "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson," I say when Mrs. Jackson rolls down her window and Russell gets out of the car. "I''m gonna do this regardless of if Russell gets to come. And I''d have invited S.G. and Connor and Sam and Isaac, but they aren''t back yet. This is just a hangout. And I normally go to get cheesecake from the Wolf''s Dragon at about two in the afternoon on Saturdays, but I wasn''t here yesterday and was busy at that time then so I''m doing it today to make up for it. I don''t like doing that with other people, but I thought it''d be weird to invite someone to hang out for just a little bit and then leave them by themselves to go do other stuff if they aren''t already going to be doing other stuff. It just feels weird to think about doing that. Does that make sense? I don''t know if I''m explaining it that well."

    "You''re fine," Mrs. Jackson says. "And Russell can hang out with you. You two have fun, alright?"

    "Will do!" Russell says. "Bye!"

    Mr. and Mrs. Jackson leave, then I look at Russell.

    "Can I hug you?" I ask.

    "Sure," he answers.

    I hug him for a few moments, and he returns the hug. This feels really nice and I like it. Once we separate and step back, I look at him as I hold Trenton against my chest once more.

    "You said ''a few minutes''," I say. "But it took fourteen. That''s not a few."

    "Yeah," he says. "Sorry, meant to text you. Mom suggested we deposit my check from the beta test first so I''d have some money to spend."

    "Isn''t in Sunday?" I ask. "The banks are closed, aren''t they? And don''t they hold deposits bigger than a little bit?"

    I remember Trey telling me about all of that.

    "Yeah," he says. "But our bank lets us deposit checks via the ATM. It''s newer tech ¨C the ATMs actually scan the check to get all of its information and does all of the work a teller would. And some of the money is available immediately. If the check turns out bad, the funds''ll be removed and if they''re already used, I''ll have to pay it back. But since the check''s from a Lumaria Group company, that won''t happen."

    "Oh."

    "Where did you want to go?" He asks.

    "The fudge shop," I tell him. "It''s right here and it''s been a week, so I can try the guessing game again."

    "I wanna try it, too," Russell says. "I''ve never won before."

    "You come here?" I ask.

    "Yeah," he nods. "It''s where I buy my art supplies. Takes more money than normal stuff, but it''s better quality."

    "Oh," I say. "Come on, Mr. Vincent looks like he''s waiting for us."

    Mr. Vincent''s outside of his shop, but he wasn''t a minute ago. When we approach, he smiles.

    "Good afternoon, boys," he says. "How''re you?"

    "Hungry," I answer. "But the sub shop is later. How are you?"

    "I''m doing well," he chuckles a little, then looks at Russell. "And you?"

    "Doing good," Russell answers. "Can we try the guessing game?"

    "Sure," Mr. Vincent pulls out a deck of cards. "Seven of Diamonds."

    Russell concentrates hard and picks a card, but it turns out to be the Seven of Hearts.

    "Aw," Russell looks really disappointed.

    "Maybe next time," Mr. Vincent puts the deck away, then pulls out a second one. "And since you figured out the trick for the first deck, Xander, here''s the one for you."

    "There''s a trick to it?" Russell asks.

    "Yeah," I answer, though I''m not sure if I can say.

    "Each card has a marking on one of its corners," Mr. Vincent says. Oh. I apparently could. "It''ll either be visible or not when I''m holding them up. The trick is to learn the marking for the one I call out for you, which is why it''s always the same card for an individual. There''s a different trick for this deck. King of Diamonds, Xander."

    I look at the backs of the cards, then at Mr. Vincent.

    "These cards have an easy one," I tell him. "It has a K and a diamond pattern on the corner right there."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    I point at the card, and Mr. Vincent pulls it out and smiles.

    "You noticed that quick," he says.

    "It does?" Russell asks.

    "It does," Mr. Vincent shows it to him. "Right here in the corner, if you look closely, you can see it in the pattern of the card itself. It''s in the way the fibers align. And Xander, that means you get to pick out seven fudges."

    "Okay," I say.

    After I make my selections, I put the boxes into my backpack, then we leave the shop and head down the street a little, greeting Mrs. Donna on the way. After that, we stop at the bakery. There are a lot of leftover donuts.

    "Good afternoon, boys," Ms. Heidi says. "How''re you today?"

    "I''m hungry right now," I tell her. "But the sandwich shop is later. I wanted to say hi."

    "Hi," she chuckles. "I bet you were hoping for a donut or two, too. I made up a bigger batch today and didn''t sell them all, so you two can pick twenty-three each."

    I didn''t think I needed to say the part about hoping for free donuts. She doesn''t care if we check for that and is more than happy to give them away. It took over a year before I was okay with just coming and asking about free donuts. Before, I would always be nervous when I asked, and even offered to pay from my allowance at the boys'' home even though I knew she''d decline it. Just in case she wanted to charge me that time.

    Though it really seems like she made a massive batch, with how many are left.

    "I''m not sure I can fit that all in my bag," Russell says. "Especially since I wanna buy something at the art shop."

    "I can carry it in mine for you," I tell him. "If you''re okay with that. There''s plenty of space in there and I don''t feel the weight. But only if none of them are chocolate. I don''t want chocolate anything in my backpack."

    "That''s fine," he says.

    We pick out the donuts we want from the selections, then thank Ms. Heidi and leave. The owner of the next shop down is outside and greets us as we pass.

    "How''re you doing, Xander?" Mr. Ben asks.

    "Hungry," I answer. "We''re going to the sandwich shop now so I can get lunch. How''re you?"

    "Doing well, doing well," he says. "I heard you''re into magitech now."

    Mr. Ben owns a shop that sells basic supplies for magitech and even some basic magitech goods, like magitech lamps. He sometimes has them set up to have their lights fade in and out in different colors and patterns, and they''re doing that right now in a sort of wave-like pattern. I can see it through the shop window and it looks really awesome.

    "You heard about that?" I ask.

    "Of course," he smiles. "I do own a magitech shop. I put in an order for some of the puzzle spheres to sell here along with other magitech toys I carry. And you learning and knowing magic now spread throughout the district. We were all quite pleased to hear that you''re doing well and have some talent."

    "You were?" I ask. "Why?"

    "You''re a good kid," he says. "And from what we heard, you seem to enjoy magic."

    "I do," I tell him. "Especially since I''m doing my best to make sure no one can try and milk me for money."

    "And that''s good," he smiles again. "We here are of the mind that every good person should know magic. That''s why many of us offer magic lessons, if we have the availability for it. And we all like you, so we like to hear that you''re doing well and having fun."

    "Oh," I say. "You really think the puzzle spheres will sell?"

    "Wouldn''t carry them in the shop unless I did," he tells me. "They should be in tomorrow or Tuesday."

    "Okay."

    "Who''s this young man?" He asks.

    "This is Russell," I introduce Russell. "And I''m really hungry, so please excuse us so we can go eat. Have a good day, Mr. Ben!"

    "You as well, Xander, Russell," he says.

    "Bye," Russell says.

    We head down to the sub shop, where Mrs. Natalie is working behind the counter.

    "Hi, Mrs. Natalie," I say.

    "Hi, Xander," she says. "How''re you today?"

    "Hungry," I tell her. "That''s why Russell and I came inside, so we can eat lunch. It''s a late one."

    "Alright," she says. "Are you two paying together or separately?"

    "Separately," I answer. "Do you want to go first, Russell?"

    "I don''t know what I want," he says. "You can go first while I look."

    "Okay," I look at Mrs. Natalie. "Is it okay for me to order now?"

    "Go ahead," she answers.

    "Okay," I say. "May I please have three large subs with turkey, lettuce, onion, pickle, and that really good sauce I can never remember the name of, with double meat? As meals, please, with chips for their sides and lemonade for their drinks. Also, may I please have a sugar cookie?"

    That''s my usual order. There''s apparently a difference in subs, with a large being a full sub and a regular being half of one.

    "Sure thing," Mrs. Natalie says. "That''ll be $10."

    "Only ten?" Russell asks. "But that''s less than one sub meal."

    "Xander gets a special deal," she tells him.

    "Oh."

    I pay and accept my receipt, then Russell places his order and pays. We receive our food, and he helps carry mine since I have Trenton. Neither of us talk as we eat. I''m not sure about him, but I''m too hungry for that right now.

    The next place we go after this is the candy shop, where Mr. Roger is currently serving a woman with a little boy. She has to keep pulling her kid away from the displays because he wants to press his face against them, and he doesn''t complain at all when she does.

    "Hi, Mr. Roger," I say once the other customer finishes and leaves with her son.

    "Hey, Xander," he says. "How''re you?"

    "I''m okay right now," I answer. "How''re you?"

    "Doing alright," he answers. "How can I help my favorite customer today? Want to arm-wrestle? I want to see how strong you''ve gotten since last week."

    "Okay," I say. "But I want to buy more candy than just a pound today, so I''m gonna buy two additional after."

    "You can get them under the same deal," he tells me as he comes out from behind the counter. "Let''s do it."

    Mr. Roger and I sit down at the table while Russell watches us, and we arm wrestle. I do my best to win, but still lose just as I always do. Will I ever win?

    "Not bad," Mr. Roger tells me. "You did even better than last time."

    "I had four fitness days this week," I tell him. "So I''ve gotten a little bit stronger."

    "Keep it up," he says. "And you might just beat me by the end of this year. So that''s three pounds of candy you want?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "You don''t have to do the deal with the other two, though. It''s just that I discovered that one pound isn''t all that much if I''m getting all the candies I want. And I ate them all in, like, a day and a half. This should last me most of the week, I think."

    Mr. Roger laughs.

    "I don''t have to," he says. "But I will. Let me know what you want."

    "Okay."

    After I pick out the candies I want and Mr. Rogers fills a paper box with three pounds of them, then I pay and we leave. Russell has a weird look on his face and I want to ask about it, but he might get upset if I do. People usually don''t like being told their face looks weird.

    It''s not that his face looks weird, though. It looks really nice. He''s just got a weird look on his face.

    We greet a few more of the workers and owners who are outside of the shops before reaching the art shop, which is on the other side of the street from the one we began on.

    "Hello Xander, Russell," Mrs. Lisa, the owner of the shop, says. "How are you two boys today?"

    "Good," Russell answers.

    "I''m doing okay right now," I answer. "How''re you?"

    "I''m doing good," she answers. "So you two are friends?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "We met a long while ago, but only started hanging out properly last Saturday. He wanted to get more art stuff. Right, Russell?"

    "Yeah," Russell pulls off his backpack and opens up the front pocket, then pulls out a paper before zipping the pocket back up and pulling his backpack back on. "This is all the stuff I need more of."

    Mrs. Lisa examines the list of items. All of her goods are kept behind the counter or in the back; that''s normal for the shops in this district even though it''s not elsewhere. I think it''s a magic shop thing, but I don''t have enough information to know for sure since the closest to one I''ve been in outside of this district is when I go shopping for magic food. They don''t keep everything behind the counter, though.

    "Let me grab these real quick," she tells him, then heads into the back.

    When she comes back out, Russell looks over the supplies. Two sketchbooks, a book with pages for painting, several new art pencils and erasers, and six new paints.

    "You can buy them individually?" I ask.

    "At some places," Russell tells me. "Others, you can only buy them in sets. This one lets you buy them in sets, but replace individual parts of them, too."

    "That''s cool," I say. "Did Mrs. Lisa teach you how to draw, too?"

    "No," Russell answers. "She does have some books for it, and I looked some up online, and just experimented a bit, too."

    "Oh."

    He said that learning to draw can help with making lines for enchantments. I''m really good at making clean lines when setting enchantments and making enchantments, even more now that I have better grip, but it might help me, too. With speed rather than making clean lines. It might even help me make better lines than I already do, too.

    "Can I get a drawing book?" I ask Mrs. Lisa. "And a sketchbook? And some drawing supplies? I wanna learn to draw, too."

    "You do?" Russell asks.

    "Yeah," I nod. "It''ll help improve my drawing for enchanting, right? So I wanna learn."

    There turns out to be a lot of different things I can buy, but Mrs. Lisa talks with me about the different options, and I pick out some more basic ones. It''s a new thing for me and I''ll probably waste a lot of supplies learning, so I don''t want to buy anything too expensive.

    Now that we''re done with that, we visit some of the other shops, then walk to the Wolf''s Dragon. When we arrive, Emily is the main server for right now rather than Cal. Hm. It seems she got pregnant since the last time I saw her, but I didn''t know she was in a relationship. I hope he treats her well, she''s really nice.

    If he doesn''t, then I know a boy who can make sure he''s dealt with.

    The two older boys I normally see when I come here on Saturdays are here right now as well, in their usual seat. Did they miss their usual Saturday visit, too?

    "Welcome back, Xander," she smiles at me, then looks at Russell. "It''s¡­ Russell, right?"

    "Yeah," Russell nods. "Hi."

    "We were wondering about yesterday," Emily tells me. "Since you weren''t here. You don''t often miss a Saturday."

    "I wasn''t in town," I tell her. "I was busy doing a product demonstration and beta test for something I made, so that''s why I asked if I could come today instead. Is that okay?"

    "Of course it is," she smiles. "You''re welcome here anytime, Xander. Will you be eating in or taking it to go today?"

    "Um¡­" I look at Russell. "Do you want to eat it here or at the park or somewhere else?"

    "We can eat it here," he says.

    "Okay," I look at Emily. "For here, please."

    "Alright," she grabs a pair of menus and two rolls of silverware, then leads us to the table closest to the door. "Would you like to order your drinks now, or do you want a few minutes?"

    "I''m ready to order my drink," I look at Russell. "What about you?"

    "Lemme check what''s available," he looks on the menu for the drinks, then looks at Emily. "Can I have the fruit punch? And a root beer float?"

    "Sure thing," Emily says. "And you, Xander? And will this be together or separate?"

    Mrs. Natalie asked that, too. Is it normal for friend groups to pay together rather than separately? I remember that happening when I ate out with S.G., Connor, Sam, and Isaac, too. But we all paid separately there, so maybe it''s not a friend group thing. But it''s still confusing.

    "Separate," I answer. "And may I please have a strawberry lemonade and a milkshake, um¡­ I don''t know what flavor."

    "We''ll mix up something I''m sure you''ll like," she smiles. "Would you two like to order some food now, or do you need a few more minutes?"

    "I know what I''m ordering," I tell her. "We came here for cheesecake! Though I don''t know if Russell knows what he wants."

    "Not yet," Russell says. "I need to look at the choices."

    "Alright," Emily says. "I''ll go get your drinks while you do."

    A few minutes later, Emily returns with the our drinks on a tray and puts them down.

    "There you boys are," she says. "And Xander, it''s a peach-banana-strawberry smoothie. Do you want to order your desserts now?"

    "Yes, please," I say. "What about you, Russell?"

    "Yeah," he says. "Though I think I want to get an appetizer, too. Don''t know if I wanna do fried pickles or the tots."

    I was just going to get cheesecake and some drinks, but if he wants appetizers, too, then I can split some with him.

    "If you buy the pickles," I tell him. "I''ll buy tater tots, mozzarella sticks, and onion rings."

    "I don''t think I could eat all of those," Russell snickers. "Even with splitting it. Not if I want to eat cheesecake, too. And not after having lunch."

    "That''s fine," I tell him. "I''ve still got plenty of room in me. But I don''t really like fried pickles, that''s why you gotta buy them if you want them."

    "Okay," he says. "Then I''ll get fried pickles and a slice of caramel-swirl cheesecake, please."

    "Alright," Emily says. "And you, Xander? I assume you''ll want your usual cheesecake?"

    "Can I get a whole cheesecake?" I ask. "I was gonna ask for just two slices today because I did good during the demonstration yesterday, according to Trey, so I want to treat myself a bit. But I feel like I could eat an entire cheesecake."

    "I can do that," she says, then repeats back our orders to us. "Will that be all?"

    "Yeah," Russell answers.

    "Yes, please," I answer. "Thank you."

    Emily goes and puts our order in, then checks on and talks with the other boys, then comes over to us.

    "Did you have fun at your thing yesterday, Xander?" She asks.

    "Lots," I nod. "And I was really tired. I ended up falling asleep towards the end of everything, but it was an accident. Can I ask you something? Is that okay?"

    "Sure," she answers. "What''s up?"

    "A-are you married or just dating?"

    "I don''t believe I''ve mentioned a relationship to you before," she says.

    "I don''t remember if you have," I say. "But you''re pregnant, so you gotta be, right?"

    "Xander!" Russell exclaims. "You can''t just say that to a lady!"

    "But she is?" I say. "She''s got three tiny little babies inside of her. I can see them."

    "See them?" Emily asks. "What do you mean?"

    "Um¡­ it''s hard to describe?" I try to think of how to do so. "I can sense their mana. It''s very tiny but very strong. Like. Um. Stronger than Cal. By a lot. But not anywhere near as strong as Greyson. There''s three of them, though. One right there, and one right there, and another right beside it, right there. But they weren''t there when I saw you last time. So congratulations. And I hope he treats you well. If not, I can always just ask Greyson to do something about it. And make sure to ask him to make sure it''s within the law."

    That last part is very important because he might do something like murder otherwise. I''m not sure what he would do to do something about someone not treating Emily well without breaking the law, but I''m sure he''d have something he can do.

    "My fiance treats me very well," she says. "Are you sure I''m pregnant?"

    "People always say I''m wrong," I tell her. "But then I turn out right. So you''re engaged? Congratulations."

    "Thanks," she smiles. "And not to doubt you, Xander, but I''ll wait until a test says I''m pregnant to believe it."

    No one ever believes me when I say it.

    "You''ll find out you are."

    Emily snorts in disbelief, then frowns just a little.

    "Do you know a Matt King, by any chance?" She asks. "I''ve wondered before if the two of you are related."

    That''s a sudden topic change.

    "I haven''t met him," I say. "But I do know of him. He''s my cousin. And his older brother, Adam, too. Our dads were twins. Or was it triplets? I don''t remember, but it''s one of the two. I''ve been avoiding trying to meet them ever since finding out about Matt because he''s apparently super hyper and I think he''d scare me."

    "He definitely is," Emily says. "His brother, Adam, is my fiance. I''ll go check on your apps, they should be ready around now. Back in a minute."

    Emily leaves, and Russell looks at me.

    "You''re really not supposed to ask if a woman''s pregnant," he says. "It gets looked at like you''re calling them fat."

    "But she''s not fat, she''s pregnant," I say. "And I can sense the mana of the babies inside of her. They''re separate from hers. I didn''t know she didn''t know yet. She should get tested so she can get confirmation so she can start preparing. Babies come pretty fast."

    Russell doesn''t respond to that, so I guess I made sense.

    Our food comes out soon after that, and Russell frowns a little when he sees my cheesecake.

    "I don''t remember that flavor from the menu."

    "It''s on a special menu," Emily tells him. "Only some customers can order from it. We do have it on the holiday menu for Memorial Day and Labor Day, though."

    "Oh," Russell says. "That''s cool."

    He looks like he wants to say something to me after Emily leaves, but doesn''t. It makes him squirm a little.

    "What is it?" I ask.

    "What?" He looks confused.

    "You look like you want to ask me something," I say. "You''re even squirming a little when you hold back. I think that means you want to ask something, anyway. I could be wrong. I''m not very good at this."

    "Oh," he says. "I wanted to ask if I could have a bite of the cheesecake, but I know you don''t like sharing your food. Don''t worry about it!"

    But then if I give him a bit, part of it would be missing and it''d be Bad, then. But if I gave him a whole slice, then I''d be missing a slice and the rest of it would be Bad. But I want to let him taste how good this is. It''s really good.

    What do I do? If I give him some, then I can''t eat the rest.

    "Everything alright?" Cal asks, having just clocked in and come back out.

    "Russell wants to try a slice of the blueberry cheesecake with strawberry cream cheese drizzle," I tell him. "But I if I give him a whole slice, then the cheesecake would be missing some of it and that''d make it Bad. But if I give him just part of a slice, then the slice would be Bad after."

    "How about cutting a slice in half along the length and sharing that with him?" Cal suggests.

    That doesn''t seem Bad at all and my hand doesn''t hesitate when I try to do that for a slice I haven''t eaten from already. I''m able to cut off a slice and move it onto Russell''s plate (after asking if he''s okay with that).

    Huh. That''s apparently not Bad.

    "Thanks," I tell Cal. "How did you know that that wasn''t Bad?"

    "Your Autism and Greyson''s might be a little bit different," Cal says. "But I''ve learned a few things over the years of raising him. If taking a chunk off the front is stressful, then what about splitting it down the middle? If that''s still stressful, well, that''s all that can be done. The point is to try and see if there''s a different way of trying something which will allow you to."

    "Oh," I say. "Greyson does love experimenting."

    "Yes, he does," Cal snorts. "Enjoy your food."

    "Thanks," I say, and he walks off.

    "This really is good," Russell points at his slice of a slice of my cheesecake. "You''re really gonna eat the whole thing?"

    "No," I answer. "You got a part of it. But I''ll eat the rest."

    Once we finish eating and Emily comes to collect the payments, I make sure to give her an extra $5.

    "What''s this for?" She asks.

    "I learned about tips on Wednesday," I say. "And that they aren''t necessary, so most people do them, but that you should give tips for exceptional service. And I pretty much always get exceptional service here. You''re all very friendly and the food is always prompt and the stuff that''s supposed to be cold is still cold and the stuff that''s supposed to be hot is still hot and the food tastes good. So that means you deserve a tip."

    "Oh," she says. "Thanks, Xander! Let me go get your receipts."

    After Emily brings us those, we leave and head down to the parking lot to wait for Russell''s parents to come pick him up.

    "You''re really liked by everyone, aren''t you?" He asks after a few minutes of waiting.

    "No?" I look at him. "Lots of people don''t like me, and way more don''t even know who I am."

    "No," he says. "I mean here. Emily and Cal both seem to really like you, and the shopkeepers we talked with were all super friendly, and some of them even have special arrangements with you. And you can order off a special menu here."

    Is he upset with me because the workers like me more?

    "But I''ve been coming to this area for years," I tell him. "You only moved here last year. And probably don''t visit as often as me, or talk with them as often as me. I like stopping by once a week."

    "That''s not what I-" he starts to say, then shakes his head. "I mean, it''s just impressive. You''re a cool dude, Xander. You deserve to be liked by everyone."

    This just confuses me, but I don''t really understand what''s going on.

    "Oh," I decide on saying, then we''re both silent for a few minutes. "Russell?"

    "Yeah?"

    "I''m currently 96.7 degrees," I tell him. "That''s my normal body temperature, so I''m not actually cool. I''m perfectly-warm."

    Russell snickers a little.

    "Xander," he says. "When I say you''re a cool dude, it just means that you''re an awesome dude."

    "Oh," I say. "Then you''re a very cool dude."

    "Thanks," he grins.

    "I see your dad''s car."

    We get off the wall and wait for his dad to pull up, and Russell opens up the back door to put his backpack in.

    "Russell?" I ask.

    "Yeah?" He looks at me. "Oh! My donuts!"

    I hand him the bag, which I''d summoned out of my backpack while he was turning around. As he puts that into his dad''s car, I summon three paper boxes out of my backpack as well.

    "Also these," I say.

    "You weren''t carrying anything else for me," he says. "Just the donuts, since they wouldn''t fit in my backpack," he looks at his dad. "Ms. Heidi had waaaay too many donuts when we got there and was giving out, like, two dozen each."

    "Twenty-three."

    "Yeah, twenty-three," Russell looks at me again. "But that was all you were carrying. And I don''t remember boxes like those? They''re just plain, they don''t have the logos for any of the shops on them."

    "Yeah," I nod. "I bought them at the store. The boxes, I mean. I made the cookies they have. The top one has shortcake cookies with strawberries in ''em and a cream cheese filling. The middle one has lemon cookies with blueberries in them and a cream cheese drizzle. The bottom one has sugar cookies with ''stained glass'' windows. It''s really just hard candy that melted in them while they were baking, so it''s safe to eat."

    "You baked them?" He asks. "When? And for me?"

    "On Wednesday and Thursday," I answer. "And I was just baking lots. I upgraded my backpack to have a stasis enchantment, so everything stays as fresh as when I put them in there, so don''t worry about them being stale. I just decided to give you some while giving you the donuts, but I couldn''t decide which one to give so you get all three. There are two dozen in each box. I''ve got way more than this."

    "Oh," he accepts the boxes. "Thanks. And, uh¡­ how is Trenton sitting on your shoulder?"

    "I''m using telekinesis to hold him there since my hands were full," I tell him. "Only thought about doing that when it was time to pull the donuts out."

    But now now that I''ve thought of it, I might use that at other times, too. Being able to use both hands to carry my food at the sub shop would be nice.

    "Cool," he says as I grab Trenton with my hands.

    "Can I give you a hug before you go?" I ask.

    "Sure," we hug each other for a moment. "See you, Xander."

    "Bye, Russell," I say. "And bye, Mr. Jackson."

    "Have a good one, Xander," Mr. Jackson says.

    Russell gets into the car and his dad drives off, then I look at Trenton.

    "Strangely," I say. "I don''t feel like I need too much of a nap. Want to sit at the peach trees and relax? Alright, let''s do that after we get home."

    Hanging out with Russell was nice, even if it wasn''t fun. I hope we can do that more, especially with the rest of my friends. For now, though, it''s time to sit with at the peach trees.