[Sig – 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 – forty-eight minutes by my check – 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 – 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.

----------------------------------------

[Xander – 12 years] – 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.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"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 – the one with the door – 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 – 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."