[Sig – 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.

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

[Xander – 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 stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please 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 – 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."

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

[Luke – 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 – and he's usually there to help them – 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 – 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 – 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.