Emma Edgin never thought she’d be a superhero, but then again, she never thought she’d fail a class or be diagnosed with a developmental disorder either.

Superheroes weren’t real, but if she didn’t get a handle on this project, she’d flunk English.

Emma spun in her desk chair, twirling herself free from the grip of her project.

The power cord to her laptop tangled on her leg, yanking the computer off the desk. Emma slammed her feet down and caught it before it crashed to the floor, her sparkly glasses flying off her face.

Mr. Sniggles darted out between her legs to cower behind her backpack next to the bedroom door.

Emma held her breath, clutching the laptop to her chest. Had she been too loud? Would Nan wake up? She listened, but her pounding heart drowned everything else out.

Then, Nan’s faint snore echoed through the bathroom connecting their rooms.

Emma set the computer back on its spot on her desk, using it to push bits of paper and clutter out of the way. Then, she blindly groped for her glasses.

That had been close. If the laptop had broken, she wouldn’t get a new one any time soon. She doubted Hannah would give her another one. Though, maybe her cousin would like the excuse to get herself a new one.

If Nan had woken up, she would have demanded to know why Emma was up at two in the morning. Then, after Emma said “to finish a project due in the morning,” Nan would have asked why she hadn’t started it earlier.

Emma didn’t have a good answer. Even after she’d written down all the due dates and pieces of the project, she hadn’t known how to get started. She couldn’t figure out where to begin. And the whole thing sat in the pit of her stomach like spoiled yogurt, making her nauseous.

She was spinning again. Spinning away from the ache in her belly, spinning away from the fear of what might happen if she didn’t turn it in. Nan never let her spin.

Emma needed to get to work on her “My Future” project. She hadn’t even picked a career, let alone started researching it. Maybe if she started writing about what she wanted, she would get something worth turning in. She opened the laptop and wrote, When I graduate I want to be a…

The flashing cursor mocked her.

Stupid. So stupid. How could she not know what she wanted to be?

How was a freshman like her supposed to know what she wanted to do with herself? How could she know what her future would hold? She wouldn’t even apply to college until junior year.

Emma stood, kicked the chair back to the desk, and paced her room. With the twin bed lofted up over the desk, it felt bigger than Nan’s room even though they were both the size of a dime.

Emma needed the space to move. She stood next to the dresser. Careful not to touch the million scraps of paper she’d dumped out of her backpack, she spun the wooden globe and watched the steampunk-looking continents blur together.

If only she could figure out what she wanted to be, she could start researching it and turn in something the next day. Heck, if only she could pick something to research.

Picking a college was easy. CowTown was close enough she could come home on weekends if she needed to. But if she didn’t get this project turned in, she’d fail English and wouldn’t be going anywhere because she’d have tanked her GPA and her whole future. All in freshman year.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her favorite books mocked her from their perch above her desk with their lack of useful career paths. Dracula, Swim Faster, and Prism Universe. That last might offer a project. When she was a kid, she’d wanted to be an astrophysicist like Donna Pern. Maybe she should write about that. She knew enough about that to kind of get started. It’d be a STEM field like Nan kept pushing her to do. It just… wasn’t her anymore.

Her laptop chimed, and Emma hurried back to see the message.

What gives? Ollie messaged. Are you really up this late? Ollie was just as disorganized as Emma, but at least Ollie had a plan.

Ollie… Emma typed back.

Working on your my future project?

At least with Ollie she could be honest about her struggles with this stupid project. No one else knew how far behind she was on this thing. She wasn’t ready to pick a career and be stuck forever.

Pick a job yet?

I wish. Maybe astrophysics, but Emma sent the message, incomplete as it was. She fiddled with the handle to the desk drawer. It had been loose for a while. She was kind of waiting to see if it would fall off or if something would happen to it.

But you don’t want to do that anymore.

Before Emma could answer, another message came through.

I’m uploading some pics to BigPhotos. Maybe I’ll actually sell something and get some money for an outfit for the spring formal.

Emma sighed. That was another thing. She still hadn’t picked out a dress or even been asked. Not like Ollie would have a date either. Her friend was too much of a tomboy for that. She could always go stag with Ollie like they had for the eighth-grade formal, but she’d rather go with someone.

How’s your project going? Emma asked, desperate to get the attention off herself. If she could help Ollie with some part of her project, Emma wouldn’t feel so bad about neglecting her own. Besides, Emma just wanted to go to sleep and maybe she’d figure out this project thing in the morning. Not that she’d have time in the morning.

Through some miracle of miracles, it’s done. Helps I’m already selling pictures and looking for new places to sell them.

Emma sighed and walked away from the desk to swing from the lofted bed’s ladder. She should be happy Ollie had finished her project. Ollie was ready for the future. She’d already planned out how she’d be living as a traveling photographer, seeing the world, and all that.

Still, Emma usually helped Ollie figure her homework out last minute—when she was awake late enough for Ollie’s night owl tendencies.

Just for a moment, Emma put her head down, trying to remember why astrophysics had interested her. So what if Dr. Pern was super cool? What was it about space she’d liked in the first place?

Before space, it had been marine biology; odontoceti, toothed whales, porpoises, and dolphins. Why had that fascinated her so much?

Hawaii had the best undergrad program for marine biology, but it didn’t interest her anymore. Besides it was too far away from Nan.

Nan needed her.

Her laptop chimed and, bleary eyed, she lifted her head. She’d sent a mess of letters and numbers ending in a string of dozens of semi-colons. To Andres.

She hadn’t even been messaging the cutie from Dredgetown High’s speech team.

Hola linda. K pasa?

Emma blushed. Andres had gotten her gibberish message.

Chime. A message from Ollie. Don’t you want to be awake for practice in the morning? Chime. Go to bed.

Emma sent a flurry of messages. But I’ll fail English. If I fail English I can’t go to swim championships

or the speech tournament

Or the spring formal

Or graduate

Or go to college

Or go anywhere out of Nan’s sight

ever

Ollie didn’t answer.

Emma scooted the hand-me-down chair away from the desk and spun. This time, the wonky wheel came off and she crashed into the bed frame.

Dang it.

“Emma,” Nan called through the paper-thin walls. “You’d better not be up!”

What could she— “I think Mr. Sniggles fell off the desk.” Emma tried to make her voice sound sleepy. Would Nan would buy the lie? The ancient cat was pretty clumsy.

“If I come over there and you’re not in bed…”

Emma didn’t bother waiting to see what Nan would do. Instead, she slammed the laptop shut and hoisted herself onto the top bunk in the sudden darkness. She tucked Elna Gabbie—her most precious Cabbage Patch Kid—under her arm and pulled the blanket over her head.

Nan would either check on her or start snoring again, then Emma could get back to work.

But before she knew it, her phone beeped in her ear and her Charlie Chaplin clock blew a whistle, shouting, “Wake up! Wake up! You’re late! You’re late!”

Outside, it was still dark, but she needed to get up and bike to morning swim practice. Somehow, she’d figure out this project. It would have to work itself out. If not…

If not, she was in some major trouble. Not just with Nan, but she’d have thrown away her whole future on not being able to start this stupid paper.