[Xander – 12 years]

"I'm stupid. I'm ugly. I'm worthless," I tell my reflection. "Um… at least three good things about myself… at least three good things about myself… at least three good things about myself…"

This part is a bigger struggle now that I know the proper task I'm supposed to do each morning. Well, more accurately, I got a laminated piece of paper with it and stuck it beside the mirror. That happened yesterday so this is my first day actually remembering to do it correctly. I tried every day after Mr. Trey corrected me but failed, so I asked if it was okay if I put up a note reminding me of the correct task.

Coming up with the bad things about myself is easy. There are far more than three of them and I am fully aware of most of them.

The good things about myself is harder to come up with and I need to do at least three for the task. I don't want to fail it but it's a big struggle.

"Um…" I really try hard. "Oh! I can help make food that others like."

Luke likes the muffins and other treats I helped make, which isn't as exciting for me. But S.G., Connor, and Sam all liked the pie and ice cream that Ms. Katie and I made. Even though it wasn't me making it but Ms. Katie with me helping, that means I didn't screw it up. And I was the one who did all of the measuring and even mixing. It was mostly just following Ms. Katie's directions when I made the pie and ice cream yesterday.

So then maybe it was really me making the pie and ice cream… which would mean that I made the pie and ice cream, not just helped with it. Though Ms. Katie was still the one who put the pies in the oven and ice cream mix into the machine and pulled the pies out when they were done.

A second good thing… um… I really can't think of something. Everything I can think of is just something I did or didn't do. This really frustrates me because I need to do the task so I don't get into trouble.

I need help. Mr. Trey would probably be mad if I tell him I got help for the task so I won't. He'll probably be even madder at me for not telling him stuff even though it's not lying, but I can use the time until he learns it to try and come up with a reasonable explanation for it.

Grabbing the phone he's letting me use, I send a text to the dork.

Xander: can u thenk uf ane gude thengs abaot me?

Supreme Sucker Sucker: You're awesome. You're amazing. You're cool. You're good at magic. You're good at making magitech. You're good at enchanting items. You're a god in mortal flesh. You're a dragon in human skin. You're an insanely powerful mage.

…it's things like this that make me wonder if he's not a hallucination because there's no way a hallucination of mine would say stuff like that about me. I suppose it might if the hallucination is just trying to say good things and it's not necessarily about me.

Xander: Whut kind uf sucker did u diskuvir?

Supreme Sucker Sucker: I made it while waiting for the others to wake. It is quite delicious. It tastes like banana nut muffins and blueberries.

A picture follows up on that, an image of a darkish yellow sucker with blue spots on it, the handle of it a white paper sucker handle. It's around half an inch or so in diameter and is being held over bubbles… a lot of bubbles. The dork is taking a bubble bath right now, apparently. If he wasn't, then he'd have just taken a picture of the suckers he's not currently eating and his hand wouldn't be in the picture. When he takes a bubble bath, the entire surface of the bath is covered in such a thick layer of bubbles that even the water can't be seen below.

Whether or not he's actually gotten in the bath yet is another matter. There's a chance that he's only just filled it and is holding the sucker over the bath for no reason other than to have a bubbly background for the picture. Or the bath could even still be filling up.

The dork is really weird.

Supreme Sucker Sucker: I'll send some to you, since you aren't coming to the secret base anymore. Thank you for not telling your dad about it. It must remain a secret so that my experiments may continue. They are vital for the future of mankind.

Yeah. He's a dork… and he's even okay with me calling him that which I find really weird.

Though the dork didn't really say anything that I could use for the task, I did come up with two more things while reading his messages and analyzing the picture. The dork hid a message in the bubbles and I'm choosing to ignore it.

I send him a message to thank him for that, then look at the mirror again.

"I am kind," I tell my reflection. "Mr. Trey says that about me sometimes and he's being honest. Um… I think he says 'you have a kind heart'. That's a good thing about me, even if I disagree. But if Mr. Trey is saying it and he's being honest, then that means it's true."

It's really wrong for me to say stuff like that about me, but it's for the task and not to others so it's a little bit okay. I think.

"Okay, um… the third one…" I try to remember what the third one was. I can't, but I know I thought about it while looking at the picture that the dork sent so I do that again. "Oh, right!" I look at my reflection. "Um… wait, what was it again? Oh, yeah. I'm good at measuring ingredients. Even if I mess up a little, it doesn't ruin the food."

Though it's better not to tell the dork this. He'll try to convince me to cook on my own at the workshop so that he can try my cooking and I don't want to burn the place down.

Now that this task is done, I make my way downstairs and am relieved to see that S.G. hasn't arrived yet. Mr. Trey is sitting at the table already, reading something on his phone. He looks up when I enter and jumps a little.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean to sneak up on you!"

"You're fine," Mr. Trey tells me. "You just surprised me, that's all. You normally wait to come down so that you arrive at seven."

"I-I wanted to come before S.G. arrived," I say. "I… did something bad and wanted to tell you."

We still have plenty of time before S.G. will probably show up. My gut said to come down immediately rather than wait a few more minutes, and that's probably in case the punishment takes more than a few minutes.

"What was it?" Mr. Trey asks.

"I… asked for help with the morning task," I say. "I was struggling to think of three good things about myself and, um… texted someone and asked him for help. He said some weird stuff that doesn't apply to me. I did manage to come up with stuff on my own, but I'm sorry for asking for help."

"Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Doing that is just a suggestion, not a requirement. It's to get you to try and accept the negatives and realize the positives. See what you can work on and use the good to keep you from being down about it. If you can't actually come up with three good things, then don't try and force it."

"O-oh," I feel my face heat up. I really am stupid, aren't I? "Sorry."

"Who was it you asked?" Mr. Trey asks. "I'm sure Luke, Parker, S.G., Connor, and Sam would have said some nice things."

"Um… it was someone else," I tell him. "We aren't friends, though."

"The dork?"

"H-how… oh, right," we talked about the dork the other day, though I didn't tell him much other than that he's just another kid I know and he lets me hang out at his workshop sometimes. The dork knows I did that, so I think he was thanking me for not telling Mr. Trey where the workshop is. "Y-yeah. It was the dork. Um… here," I pull out the phone he's letting me use. "He told me… huh?"

"What is it?" Mr. Trey asks.

"They're all gone."

"What are?"

"I forgot that happens," I say. "It should have taken longer."

"What should have?"

"The messages from the dork," I try not to cry. "They always disappear after a time and I keep forgetting that. I was going to show you what he said but he-he-he-m-m-m-mabye h-h-he-"

"Deep breaths, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Slowly. In… out… in… out… in… out… like that, yeah. Keep doing your breaths."

That's really hard to do, though, because I really do hallucinate, don't I? The messages from the dork always vanish after I stop thinking about our interaction so I've never been able to go back and reference them if I've stopped thinking about it. I only ever have his number when I need it, too, which would definitely be explained by me hallucinating.

"I think he's a hallucination!" I cry. "I'm sorry for being so stupid and broken, Mr. Trey! I can't help that my brain is all broke and stuff! I-I-I'll go pack my things and-"

"Xander!" Mr. Trey's voice is a little bit louder than normal. He's not yelling, but it scares me. "You're not in trouble and I'm not sending you back.

"Regarding the dork…" Mr. Trey thinks for a few moments, then grabs his phone, dials a number, and puts his phone up to his ear. "Hold on one moment. Sean, when S.G. arrives, could you please hold him for a minute? I need to talk with Xander about something. Thanks.

"Okay," Mr. Trey puts down his phone and looks at me. "Regarding the dork, it's possible that he's both real and a hallucination. That you do actually know this boy and interact with him, but you also maybe sometimes hallucinate.

"If this kid really is as smart as you told me," Mr. Trey says. "Then it's possible your brain tries to use him to remind you of stuff that you've forgotten. The other possibility is that he hacks your phone and deletes his messages and none of it is a hallucination. Are you able to ask?"

"Um…"

I find that our chat is available again, so I send a message in it.

Xander: R u a huloosinashin?

Supreme Sucker Sucker: There is a 17.94387213% chance that I am a collective hallucination held by mankind as a whole. Since I am able to interact with other people and objects and the world around me, however, it does not matter and so I count as a whole.

Supreme Sucker Sucker: Pa told me that I have to get out of the bath in five minutes. After I do and get dried off and dressed, I'll drop the suckers off.

"Here!" I show Mr. Trey the messages… hoping that he can see them and maybe he's right and I'm not hallucinating.

"A collective hallucination?" Mr. Trey asks. "Wait. They vanished. Xander… I think he's hacked your phone and deletes the chat."

"O-oh…" I look at the phone again as I shift uncomfortably. "So he's maybe a hallucination… but I really do hallucinate. I see weird things all the time. But everyone calls me crazy if I say it so I don't because I don't want to be crazy and try not to hallucinate! I'm sorry, Mr. Trey! I don't want my brain to be broke, either, but I don't know how to fix it!"

"Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Tiffany already warned me about your hallucinations. The 'little fairies', right?"

"Yeah," I nod. "And some of them are actually real, which makes it really confusing. I try to ignore them all so that I stop hallucinating but it doesn't work. I try to get my brain to work right but it won't. I'm so sorry for being a bad boy, Mr. Trey. Please don't send me back! I like living here!"

"I'm not going to send you back," Mr. Trey says. "Do you remember when you were hit by a car when you were four?"

"N-no," I answer. "But I know it happened. They said I was riding a tricycle at the time and a drunk man drove off the street and hit me. I have to get brain scans every year to make sure I'm not worse, or something like that. I hate them."

"It was a drunk woman," Mr. Trey tells me. "And you were riding in the street, but in a cul-de-sac that she didn't live in and had no reason to be in. You and some other kids from the group home you were living in at the time were all there. One of the girls was also hit and she died."

"O-oh," I feel my face heat up. "I'm sorry for not remembering it properly."

"Xander," Mr. Trey points at my forehead. "You have severe brain damage from that incident," he lowers his hand. "The fact that you're even alive is a miracle. Your memory problems, the hallucinations… they're a result of this damage. Why is it that you're scared of dropping things so much and don't like holding glass or other fragile objects?"

"I-I can't always grip things right," I tell him. "My hands just sometimes don't want to. It's even worse when I get all shaky from being scared or anxious or nervous and I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to drop that glass!"

"Xander," Mr. Trey says. "Your problems with gripping things properly is also because of this damage to your brain. It's affected your fine motor control and it's impressive that you're able to do so well most of the time."

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"That's… that's because my brain is broken?"

"Yes," Mr. Trey says. "Your brain essentially controls your whole body. And Tiffany wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into by looking into adopting you. She didn't want me to be surprised by the news that you were only alive by a miracle and to know what's going on with your situation. Not just the trauma from your old home but the stuff caused by the damage to your brain from the accident before that."

"S-so you knew?" I ask. "All along?"

"Yes," Mr. Trey says. "Well, not from the start. I'd initially asked about a boy who might have trouble finding another home and they initially only told me that you had some PTSD from your previous home and it made you difficult to work with. After we talked for a few weeks, they let me know about the brain damage."

Mr. Trey has to think for a few seconds about the next part and that scares me.

"You're a good kid, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "You struggle with things but you still do your best despite that. When you try something, you put in your best effort. You didn't have to jump into the pool on Monday but forced yourself to because you wanted to work on your fear at a faster pace.

"In the weeks that we were talking at the home to see if we would see about you living here," Mr. Trey says. "I could see this and grew to like the boy I saw. In the nineteen days since you moved into here, I haven't once regretted that decision. You're a good kid, Xander, and I still want you as my son. Even knowing that you have problems, even knowing that you could die from that brain damage at any moment. I still want to be your father, Xander.

"In fact," Mr. Trey says. "The more I get to know you, Xander, the more I want to try and help you. Seeing you struggle, seeing you suffer… you're looking in my eyes again so I know you can tell I'm being honest here. I do already feel like you're my son, Xander, and I want to make sure your life is as easy as possible from now on. Okay?"

"Even… even knowing that the miracle might end because I'm so worthless and then I'll die?" I ask. "The last time I overheard the doctor about my brain, they said it was so broke it really is a miracle I'm alive and I could maybe die at any time."

"You're strong, Xander," Mr. Trey says. "You're not going to die just like that. This isn't a world like in some stories you read, where magic doesn't exist and people have to come up with ways for society to progress without it. Magic is everywhere here and through it, anything is possible. There might even be a way to fix the damage to your brain so that you can live as a normal, happy, healthy boy."

"I don't think the world is that nice."

"You never know, Xander," Mr. Trey tells me. "I know you don't like mentions of the Lumaria Kings because of what your last foster family did, but they have extraordinary regeneration rates. Research has probably been done on things like that and the healing of phoenixes and trolls and other such creatures. There might be a medicine that can be used to heal your brain."

"The dork can heal really fast," I tell him. "I… think he's a Lumaria King. He blew off his jaw eating a muffin and it was fully healed within a few days."

Mr. Trey gives me a weird look when I say that.

"If he can heal that fast," Mr. Trey says. "Then either he only made you think he blew off his jaw using some sort of illusion magic or he really is a Lumaria King… and an extremely powerful one. Regenerating lost body parts takes them awhile but advanced regeneration is in their bloodline and occurs passively for them. How did he blow off his jaw eating a muffin?"

"Um…" I shift a little uncomfortably. "Fully explaining would involved saying something illegal he did. Please don't be mad at me!"

"Not mad, just confused," Mr. Trey says. "I do want to know what it was he did, though."

I really don't want to say but at the same time, I don't want Mr. Trey to get mad at me for not being honest with him and telling him what happened. He's asking me questions and if I don't answer, he might send me back to the boys' home. I like living here.

"On April 8th of this year," I say. "He stole a bomb from a military base because he wanted to see if zramino powder would make muffins taste better and it was the easiest way he could find to acquire it. He wasn't expecting the muffin to blow up when he bit into it and it really broke his face. His whole jaw was gone and he even broke the upper part of his mouth and even part of his brain. Unlike mine, his can heal from that. It looked really horrible and scared me lots. After he recovered, he used some sort of magic to neutralize the explosive aspect of the powder in the remaining muffins so that he could eat them. He said it tasted better when the explosive magic wasn't neutralized."

Mr. Trey stares at me for many long seconds.

"That kid is definitely a King from that family," Mr. Trey tells me, then snorts. "Whatever you do, don't ever compare yourself to him. It will only make you feel worse and is like comparing a mortal to a god."

"O-okay."

"Just to make sure," Mr. Trey says. "Do you understand what I was saying?"

"Um…" I frown. "I-I don't remember."

"About your situation."

"That… you know about me having a broken brain and being scared and did even before you took me in," I say. "And that… you really do think of me like a… um… I don't remember, but I know you were being honest. And you want to make my life peasy. I don't want it to be peasy, though, because I hate peas. They taste awful. Is that… is that okay? Can we make it blueberries? I don't know what it means to be peasy but can it be replaced with blueberries? Or cheesecake?"

Mr. Trey starts laughing but covers his mouth so not much sound comes out. He still shakes a little as he quietly laughs. After he does that for a few moments, he lowers his hand but is still smiling. I look down at my socks.

"Xander," he says. "Can you look me in the eyes again? Thank you. I said I do think of you like my son. We've known each other for more than two months by this point and you've grown on me a lot in that time."

"Like ivy?"

"We can discuss what 'grown on me' means later," he tells me. "S.G. arrived a minute ago so we should finish up so that he doesn't wait too long. We're almost done anyway. I do think of you like a son, Xander, and I want to make your life as easy as possible. I care about you."

"Not peasy?"

"Not peasy," he says, then laughs. "That was a big sigh of relief. You really don't like peas, do you?"

"N-no."

"That's fine," he says. "Is there anything you want to ask or say before I let them know it's okay to let S.G. in now?"

I try to think of something but can't, and that bothers me. If he's asking, then that means there probably is supposed to be something. Maybe he won't punish me for not remembering.

My body does want me to do something, though. Mr. Trey didn't seem bothered by it last time, so I give him a hug before realizing I probably should have asked first. That doesn't seem to bother Mr. Trey, though, as he wraps an arm around me to return the hug.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" He asks once I step back.

"Y-yeah."

"Then dry your tears and have a seat," Mr. Trey says. "I'll let them know that S.G. can come in."

I use the napkin he offers to me wipe my face and after throwing that away, I sit at the seat set up for me and wait for S.G. to arrive. He comes in looking a little bit worried and like he wants to say something, but he doesn't say whatever it is and just sits down as he greets us. Something is off about him. His usual energy is gone but I think he's trying to fake having it.

"S-sorry for delaying," I tell him. "Mr. Trey and I were talking about something important but private. I came down a little bit earlier 'cause I thought we'd have time but I guess I didn't come down early enough. The conversation became something I wasn't expecting."

A lot of big somethings I wasn't expecting.

"It's cool," S.G. grins at me. "How are you?"

"Already a little bit tired," I admit. "But I'm ready for breakfast and classes. Um… please don't be upset, but I do like hanging out with you but Luke's coming back tonight so he'll be here for classes again tomorrow and I feel safer with him than you. Sorry."

I know I fucked up the wording but I hope S.G. understands and isn't too mad.

"I get it," S.G. tells me. "You wanted me here because you don't want to be alone with adults, right? Luke is… a powerful lightning mage who can take down a lightning elemental. I'm a novice air mage. This isn't for hanging out, it's for comfort. I understand!"

He still seems upset.

"Sorry," I look down at the plate in front of me.

"Oh, right!" S.G. bounces in his seat a little. "Isaac's coming back from his mom's on Sunday and we're all gonna go play laser tag after! Do you want to play with us? It's fifteen dollars a game per person for one game, twenty-eight for two games, and forty for three games. Per person, not per game. So if we do three games, it's forty dollars. Food not included. We usually do three games but you won't have to do three if you come and can do one or two. Or more if you really want."

They tag each other with lasers? I guess protective equipment is involved to avoid injuries. Fifteen dollars seems really cheap for that, though. Maybe it's an old place and they've already paid off the equipment and it's not too good in quality but still works?

Wait. I just offended him but now he's inviting me to play a game with him? Nick's mentioned playing laser tag before and I know he likes it so it's not that dangerous. It's also something he's doing with his friends. I just told him I don't think he can protect me but he wants me to hang out with him and his friends again?

This is confusing. I… I don't know what to do!

"C-can I think about it?"

"Sure!" S.G. says. "We'll be getting there at about three-thirty. They start the games on-the-hour."

"O-okay," I say. "T-thanks."

A few seconds of silence pass and I don't know what to say. S.G. is confusing me, too, because he's still looking upset even though he invited me to play. I must have responded wrong. I'm sorry!

"I think we're ready for breakfast now," Mr. Trey tells Ms. Katie.

"Alright," Ms. Katie brings in a platter with a bunch of slices of french toast on it.

Breakfast today consists of thick slices of french toast, biscuits with gravy, sausage links, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt with granola, nuts, and blueberries. Mr. Trey and S.G. get raspberries and blackberries in their yogurt as well but I asked for mine without. We're allowed to choose how much gravy goes on our biscuits, and there's a choice of butter, apple butter, maple syrup, and a blueberry sauce that has blueberries in it.

I eat enough french toast that I can try them all and decide that soaking the french toast in maple syrup and then coating it in the blueberry sauce makes it taste the best. To drink, I go with both orange juice and milk. S.G. does the same as well, though he goes with chocolate milk for some weird reason.

"A lot has already happened this morning," I tell S.G. after we finish eating breakfast "And my brain is all tired and needs a rest. I'm sorry for being a bad host and friend but I need a nap before classes start. Otherwise, I'll have a harder time focusing during the class and maybe even fall asleep. Um… I don't know what you can do to wait and I'm really sorry for this but I need it. I know that-"

"Xander," Mr. Trey says. "It's okay. Our discussion was probably quite a lot for you to take in. I'm sure S.G. understands that you're already a little overstimmed. Go on and take a nap. S.G., do you remember the games room from Xander's tour?"

"I don't remember a games room," S.G. tells him. "I remember a theater."

"There's a games room as well," Ms. Katie tells S.G. "I can show him to it, Trey."

"Thanks," Mr. Trey tells her.

"Get some rest, man," S.G. tells me. "I'll see you when you come back down for class."

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

[Sig – 13 years]

Xander could really tell that something was bothering me, to the point that he even rode to my house with me after lunch. He also fell asleep on the way there, and Quinn assured me that was expected as Xander ended up going for a nap almost right after I leave the last couple of days.

If Xander had directly asked me again after the first time, especially once we arrived at my house, then I probably would have told him. Conner, Sam, and Isaac are probably good for venting to but I really don't want to bother them so I won't say unless I'm asked. Mr. Thompson promised not to tell Connor when I told him this morning… he'd also noticed something was off and asked me. With Xander, it's more that I would have given in and vented a little.

But it's something really stupid. It's bothering me a lot, though, and even playing video games isn't distracting me enough. Argh! If only Isaac wasn't in another state, Sam wasn't hanging out with his parents, and Connor wasn't doing chores right now. I'd try and ask one of them to hang out to give me something else to do.

Maybe I could invite Connor and Sam over for a sleepover once they're done with their stuff, though? We can go down the street and get more ice cream and splurge on it just for fun.

My phone beeps as I realize I'm starting to get depressed again, so I quickly push away those thoughts and check my phone. It's from Xander… and is a picture that was probably taken by someone else since it's not blurry. One thing I've learned since I started texted him is that Xander is bad at taking pictures, so any that look focused and good was taken by someone else.

The picture he sent me is of blueberry bread slices with a small dish of a whitish spread that has a slight brownish tint to them.

Xander: Ms. Katee and I maed thez tha r bloobiree bread with sinamin iceeng to put an them

Sig: How do they taste?

Xander: Good

I try to talk with him about making them but his misspellings make it really difficult for me to keep going after a few messages, so I start sending him memes instead. It's easy to tell that he's trying his best to send memes back but doesn't really understand what they are. That doesn't bother me, though, because it's fun to text with Xander just like with any of my other friends.

All of that stops when the front door is unlocked and a woman walks into the house. She has the same jet-black hair and blue eyes that my mom and I have, and is bringing two pink suitcases with her.

"Aunt Rachel!" I hop up from the couch and rush over to give her a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I decided to move into the area," she returns the hug while nudging me out of the doorway so she can close it. "My only family is here and my job can be done from anywhere, so I decided it's time I moved to be closer to you guys."

"You got a house down here?"

"Not yet," she pats me on the back, then separates from me. "I'll be staying here until I find one, if your parents don't mind. Do you know when they'll be home?"

"They went to the Grand Canyon last week," I tell her. "I stayed behind because I had plans for the weekend – I was going camping with Conner and Mr. Thompson – and was helping out a new friend with some stuff this week. You remember Xander, right? The boy from the bowling alley? Turns out that he's a foster kid, and he's got a new home. His new dad arranged for him to have some fitness stuff to help build up strength, but also to learn how to swim in case it's ever needed and martial arts so he can defend himself if attacked. Xander's really skittish, though, and doesn't like being alone with adults so they have another boy in the room with him to make him feel more comfortable. The usual one was out of town for a vacation the last few days so I was doing that for him. My parents should be back sometime next week."

That's what I've been feeling down about. I woke up to a text from my parents saying they'll be gone until next week and have ordered food delivery. It arrived. It was four cases of ramen, two gallons of milk, and three pounds of potatoes. I'm not entirely sure what they were thinking with that order.

"Oh!" I exclaim. "I didn't know you were coming so the guest room's stuff hasn't been changed yet. Let me do that!"

I help Aunt Rachel carry her suitcases to the guest room, then I strip off the bedclothes and get them in the wash before putting new sheets, blankets, and pillowcases on. All through that, I talk with her, telling her about finally talking with Xander, his interest in baking, and other stuff that's happened since we first saw Mr. Caldwell at the bowling alley.

"Let me take a good look at you," Aunt Rachel says once we're in the living room again. "Jeez, Sig. You've gotten bigger since Easter."

"I've grown an inch!" I grin at her. "If I keep growing at this rate, then I'll need to get Mom and Dad to take me to the store for new clothes before school starts!"

It's a good thing it's summer since the difference isn't as noticeable in shorts as it would be in pants, though I kind of want to get new clothes before the bottoms of the shorts are too far above my knees.

At least with clothes shopping, I can just talk my parents into taking me to the store by saying I need to try on the clothes myself to make sure they fit since I'm getting too big for these ones. Once we're at the store, I can pick out some new outfits and they'll buy them. With me there, it's a guarantee I'll at least get what I need.

"That's nice," she puts a hand on my head. "Though you should stop growing. You're already losing your cuteness."

"Aunt Rachel!" I exclaim. "No! I'm gonna stay cute and awesome forever, no matter how much I grow! Oh! Look at this picture! Xander sent it to me a little bit before you arrived! Um… you might not understand what he's saying. He's bad at spelling and tries to spell words how they sound to him. But his next message after good is him telling me that he measured and mixed everything. Oh! And it's blueberry bread with cinnamon icing. Speaking of food, I asked Mr. Thompson if he could take me grocery shopping tomorrow but if you're here, could you? I want to go shopping with you! Mom and Dad said to use some of my money for the mid-trip shopping and just give them the receipts and they'll give me back the money for anything that's not too extreme. So buying, like, six gallons of ice cream would just come out of my money."

That's not true at all. I did ask Mr. Thompson and I told him the same thing, but my parents never said that. The only thing they've said to me since leaving for their trip is that they weren't going to be back until sometime next week and that they'd ordered food to arrive sometime between two and three this afternoon. What will happen is I'll let them know the food they ordered wasn't enough and I needed to buy some both when they left and after and I'll get thirty dollars.

There's no reason to make Aunt Rachel worry.

"I noticed the boxes of ramen and the bag of potatoes," Aunt Rachel looks toward the kitchen. "Leftovers from a different trip?"

"Yeah," I tell her.

"Well," she ruffles my hair. "I can take you today, Sig. Have you eaten dinner yet? It's around that time and I'm hungry. We can get something while we're out."

"Pizza!"

"We can do pizza!" She laughs. "You were telling me about a new pizza place that was being built when I was last here. We can stop there before getting groceries if they're open now. Try to come up with what you want to get while we're shopping during dinner. You'll need actual food for meals but don't hold back on what snacks you want. I'll make sure your parents reimburse me for at least the essential stuff, and the rest will be a treat from me."

While my parents are a bit stupid when it comes to what I need to actually eat and how much it costs, Aunt Rachel is an adult. If she tells them something cost so much and shows them the receipts, she'll be able to get them to repay her. I don't have to spend my savings on this!

"Really?" I start bouncing in excitement.

"Yes," she grins and ruffles my hair again. "I'll make sure you get balanced meals, just tell me what you want. Go get ready to go now."