I was absolutely not nervous, and anyone who says otherwise is a lying liar who lies. Tomorrow was only the first day of the rest of my life, after all. But today, I suffered through the cruelest, most arduous challenge of them all: public school while sleep deprived.

Granted, I wasn’t exactly alone in my predicament as I wandered into the halls of Glenbrook High School. Katie Richins had caked on an extra-thick layer of concealer that still didn’t manage to completely hide her eyebags, Lincoln Franks was staring blankly into the distance looking asleep on his feet, and Becca Yates was sipping from a huge cup of what was probably pure espresso and sugar judging by how she was practically vibrating in place. Just about the only person unaffected by the anxious atmosphere was the one slinging his arm over my shoulder to break me out of my sleepwalking daze as I nearly walked straight past my locker.

“Ah, Connor, do you smell that?” Jerry Martin gave an exaggerated sniff, far too cheerful and animated for both this early in the morning and his general Jerry-ness. “The heady aroma of hope just before it curdles into disappointment, it brings a tear to my eye.” He mimed weeping as I pushed him back and spun my locker open.

“Save it for first period, asshole.” I grumbled. “How are you so blasé about this? It’s Fate’s Eve, my dude.”

Jerry shrugged. “Fate can suck it. What’s fate ever done for me?”

I squinted at him. “Presumably brought your parents together and made your existence possible if daytime soap operas are to be believed?”

“Bah,” He scoffed. “Why can’t you have the decency to watch The Price is Right on your sick days like the rest of us?”

“It hasn’t been the same since Bob Barker left and you know it. Don’t turn this around on me. Are you already complaining about a List you don’t even have yet?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh?”

Jerry waved a hand in exaggerated nonchalance. “I’m complaining about the entire concept of Lists and the rigamarole that’s been made of them in the modern era.”

“Of course. Because that’s so much better.”

Jerry sniffed. “Don’t belittle my principles, sheep.”

I shoved my books in my bag and gave Jerry a flat stare. “We need to keep you away from the library. You read one questionable philosophy primer and suddenly you’re a Fatebreaker.”

“Excuse me?”

I flinched at the sharp tone that interrupted us, and slowly turned to see the imperious face of Danielle Harp leveling a suspicious glare at me. Student council president, ultimate type-A personality, Greek goddess carved from ice and superiority, only daughter of the founders of the Harp Financial Group that probably owned half the town, and number two on my personal list of people I don’t want to have glaring at me, behind only her mother. It wasn’t even my fault! Jerry was the one being an idiot!

The Jerry in question was, in his typical infuriating fashion, completely nonchalant. “What?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t think I can pull off the leather jacket and tattoos?”

Danielle’s face was granite. “I think discussion of gang activities is not welcome under the Glenbrook High code of conduct.”

“No sympathy for the revolutionary?” Jerry pleaded.

“Revolutionaries are successful.” Danielle gave the briefest twitch of her lips that would have been a smirk on anybody more expressive. “At the moment, you don’t even qualify as a rebel. An agitator, perhaps.”

Jerry grabbed his heart theatrically. “Prez, you wound me! The boot of the bougeiose has trampled on my dreams yet again! One day you will need a champion unfettered by laws and norms to ride in on a motorcycle and save you, and you will rue the day you dismissed Jerry Martin as wannabe gangbanger trash!”

“This whole production and yet you still have a C in Drama.” I muttered under my breath. Danielle’s piercing blue eyes meeting my green ones proved that I hadn’t muttered quite quietly enough.

The warning bell cut off any possibility of further antics, and Danielle seemed to deflate slightly. Now that I was looking more closely, I could see subtle signs that she wasn’t quite as put together as she normally was. It was just a light red jam stain on her collar, but for the immaculate Danielle Harp to show any sign of stress was usually a sign of the apocalypse. I suppose the unpredictability of what tomorrow would bring would weigh on someone who planned for absolutely everything.

“Just get to class and try not to set anyone off. Everyone is stressed enough as it is.” Jerry gave a sloppy salute and I nodded as Danielle rolled her eyes. “Mr. Martin, Connor, good day to you.” She turned on her heel and strode down the hall, black skirt fluttering behind her like the cape of a superhero. I took a deep breath, falling back into the routine of beating back any feelings that Danielle may have provoked. Yes, she was stunning, with deep blue eyes and artfully styled wavy black hair. Yes, she was smart as a whip, by far the most accomplished person at our high school, having turned down several prestigious prep schools and early colleges for reasons no one was quite sure of. Yes, she was filthy rich, heir to the Harp Financial Group and the daughter of two high-achieving Fulfillers who had both completed a five-point List before the age of thirty-five. Yes, she was so far out of my league that we weren’t even playing the same sport.

“She calls you by your first name?” Jerry interrupted my pining, and I could hear the undercurrent of shock in his smarm. “She never calls anyone by their first name! What’s your secret?”

I shrugged, fighting back the blush and smile and whoop I wanted to holler out. “Ever since we were paired together for that project sophomore year and I was vaguely competent, I guess we get along? As much as she gets along with any of her future employees and current subjects. Have you tried not being as obnoxious as possible around her?”

Jerry scratched his head. “But all those after-school specials told me to be myself. Elmo wouldn’t lie to me, would he? I don’t think I could handle a betrayal like that.”

We fell into step beside each other, heading for the drama classroom. “You betrayed him first, though, with your whole wannabe gangster schtick.” Jerry looked stricken. “Yeah, that’s right, think about what you’ve done.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever emotionally recover from this. How do I choose? The precious black and white lessons of my childhood or the gritty grey reality of adult life I find myself thrust into?” Jerry shook his head. “Truly, we live in dark times. If a man can’t even rely on the moral lighthouse that is Elmo, what can he rely on?”

“The Lists we’re all getting tomorrow?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Jerry made a face. “Can I just defer it and rely on Elmo instead? That sounds like a much less painful way to go through life.”

“Are you seriously that hung up on this? It’s not just a bit?” I asked as we settled into our seats, sparing a glance at Max updating the countdown on the board to 1. Jerry threw his head back over his seat and stared at the ceiling, and I knew he was actually considering the question this time.

“I think,” He began slowly. “That what I said as a joke still has some truth to it. Everything’s become about Lists, there’s whole industries dedicated to helping you try to figure out yours. Do you know how much money my mom has wasted on psychics and crackpots who’ve told her they can get her past that third point she’s been stuck on for years? It’s predatory. If it’s fate, it’ll happen regardless of what we try to do to hurry it along, and if it isn’t fate, does it matter? Where does free will end and the List begin? I sure as hell can’t tell, and that bothers me on a fundamental level. I want to say I’ll act exactly the same tomorrow as I do today, but if my first point tells me not to, I’m gonna be tempted to change, aren’t I?” He sighed. “I don’t like how much emphasis gets put on it, I guess. I don’t want to get labeled a Follower or a Fulfiller or a Fatebreaker or whatever other name that starts with F just based on how many tick marks magically pop up on my skin.”

The bell rung again as if to punctuate his speech, and it was only then I noticed how silent the rest of the room had become. Most of the class was looking at Jerry with expressions of thoughtfulness or horror depending on their own stance on the Fulfiller spectrum. Mary Caldwell, who never met a challenge she didn’t take, looked equal parts furious and incredulous, her mouth opening and closing rapidly as her brain seemingly overheated searching for a rebuttal. Xavier was more contemplative, and after a moment of processing moved to mirror Jerry’s pose and gaze up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to questions he only now knew to ask. I just looked at my best friend sympathetically. I knew he and his mom were in a rough patch again, I just didn’t realize she’d gone back to the psychics. None of us wanted a repeat of fourth grade. I guess this time at least his dad couldn’t leave again.

“Well!” Miss Reinhart desperately tried to break the tension with her bubbly exuberance. “What a spirited way to kick things off today! Honestly, I was gonna let you guys just do some improv exercises, burn off the nerves, standard Fate’s Eve stuff. Soooo… anybody wanna follow that act? Rebuttals from the audience?” She bounced in place and gestured widely like a game show host, trying to inject her usual chaotic energy into things. Luckily she didn’t have to look too hard for volunteers, as Mary’s mind had finally stopped spinning and settled on that kind of anger-fueled determination seen most often in raging gamers and Karens about to demand to speak to the manager. I shrunk back a bit in my seat and leaned the tiniest bit away from Jerry. I dealt with enough angry entitlement at work when someone didn’t get the exact amount of caramel drizzle the ad showed. Middle-aged women could be so cruel when there was a captive customer service worker in sight.

Mary stomped down to the little stage area and shot one last glare towards Jerry, who had finally deigned to stop asking the ceiling for enlightenment and gave a little “go on” gesture. This only made Mary grit her teeth before she very deliberately closed her eyes, exhaled a heavy breath, and schooled her features into something less murderous.

“I think there’s a fundamental misunderstanding in Jerry’s thinking. Lists have been around for all of recorded human history, and there’s evidence in the archaeological record from before written language was developed. Fate has been guiding us this whole time, and we have a duty to take up the mantle as the next generation. Yes, Lists certainly have become a bit more commercialized now, but there have always been soothsayers and oracles who supposedly had insight into their inner workings. It may be more widespread in the information age, but that’s no reason for cynicism! I think it’s comforting to have those signposts, the markers that can tell us we’re on the right track, that we’re doing something meaningful. Call me a Fulfiller all you want, because that’s not an insult! It’s what we’re meant to do! Fulfill our fate, work through our List, and do our best to keep the world moving forward!”

It was a nice little speech, I had to admit. Much less vitriol than a Karen demanding her drink be remade, only a few subtle digs at Jerry’s point of view. Seven out of ten, could be copied and pasted into a Hallmark movie about finding your destiny through caring for abandoned dogs or discovering the true meaning of fate out in the country with a Christmas-obsessed small town man and giving up your high-paying lawyer gig in the big city. Well actually, maybe not that last one. More of a Christmas-obsessed small town man finding meaning in the big city and getting a high-paying lawyer gig, what with all the mentions of pushing forward and being a Fulfiller.

“Excellent!” Miss Reinhart clapped enthusiastically, and most of the class joined in with far less exuberance. “Very passionate delivery! Mary, I want you to channel that the next time we do character monologues, okay? Remember how it felt!” She swung her whole head back and forth across the class rather than just using her eyes. “Anybody else want to have a go?”

Max started to raise his hand slightly, then thought better of it. He was always more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy, could play off someone else but tended to struggle on his own. Xavier was fidgeting now, seemingly parsing out which bits of each speech he actually agreed with and which were just said convincingly enough to lodge in the brain but would fall apart with critical thinking. I kept my own head down, hoping I wouldn’t be called to contribute yet, not before I’d had a chance to put my thoughts in order.

Naturally, I was promptly pointed to as the victim of Miss Reinhart’s questionable mercy. “We heard from both of the sides! We need someone still working it out to give a fresh perspective! Connor Blakely, come on down!” She really had missed her calling as a game show host. Or maybe this teaching gig was just a stepping stone on the way there, just another thing to tick off her List? Ugh, now I was connecting everything to it too.

I faced the class and tried to focus on not trailing off or cursing too much as I spewed my thoughts, too tired to properly filter. “I can honestly see the appeals of both sides. Of course I want a fulfilling life, but does that necessarily mean being a Fulfiller? Of course I treasure my free will, but does caring about what my List might be and working toward it negate that? I don’t think so on either count. I mean, fate’s weird and fickle. We’ve been inundated by stories of it our whole lives, from people who relentlessly pursued their Lists into great success, to those who did it and ended up getting themselves thrown in prison when their obsession led them to crime. Then there’s the stories of people who gave up on it, only to inexplicably tick off their next point just a few days after making that decision. Who can say which side of things any of us will end up on until we get our Lists tonight? If Mary’s first point is something like be patient and let life come, that’s not exactly something you can run out and fulfill immediately, is it? And plenty of people live good and happy lives only having a couple points ticked off. I don’t know if there’s one approach that’s universally better, just one that might be better for me.” I shrugged. “Take it on a case by case basis and adjust if your original approach doesn’t work? Just sounds like life in general, really.”

There was a beat of silence as the class digested my little ramble. Mary still looked miffed, but thoughtfully miffed now, like I had given her the wrong order and she’d decided she liked it more than her original one but didn’t want to embarrass herself by asking what it was. Jerry wore his usual half-smirk, but years of best friend telepathy let me see the consideration behind his eyes. I’d used Mary as an example, but if his List gave him something that demanded immediate action, he would probably do it. He’d grumble and complain the whole time, but at the end of the day he just didn’t want to see anybody suffer.

“Bravo!” Miss Reinhart cheered after a moment. “I don’t know about y’all, but I thought that was awesome! One more round of applause for all our brave improv speakers today!” She clapped the loudest, of course, then settled her face into something almost never seen outside of tech week rehearsals: utter seriousness.

“Really, I know all of you are nervous. I was too when I was in your shoes! The important thing to remember is that you’re not alone. Everyone in your grade is going to be going through the same thing. It’ll probably be a little awkward tomorrow and that first week, someone will inevitably do something impulsive, another person will seem to completely change their character overnight. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just a part of growing up and figuring out how to navigate something completely new to you. No amount of reading about it will really prepare you for getting your own List. Just remember that you never have to share any of your points if you don’t want to, and you can always tell a teacher if you feel pressured to do that. It can be great having friends to go through things with, but most people will keep their Lists private for a reason! You’re all legally adults as of tomorrow, so even your parents can’t make you share your List unless you want to. Just keep it in mind!” She smiled widely and shook out her hands. “Phew! Don’t usually have to get so serious this early in the morning! Howzabout we spend the rest of the period doing some movement exercises, most of you look dead and it’ll help you wake up! Yeah? Hit it, DJ!” She sprinted over to the sound system by her desk and stabbed the play button. I groaned. Just when I’d gotten comfy in my seat again…