[Sig – 13 years]

"Guys!" I say as I arrive at the park, Connor, Sam, Isaac, and Jake all here and about to leave. "You're never gonna believe what today's stream was!"

"Bottle rockets with magic!" They respond in unison.

"Wh-how'd you know?"

"Dude!" Connor laughs. "Everyone knows! You switched up what it is and word spread that you weren't doing Duty of Loyalty today."

"Servers are down," I tell him. "And that phoenix from the store a couple of weeks ago showed up as I was finishing the stream! Seemed miffed I hadn't decorated the bottles, but it was just me testing the enchantments to see how high I could get them! Did you see?"

"Over two hundred yards, yeah!" Connor says. "We were watching the clip of it while waiting for Isaac. That was awesome! And the confetti, too! But why are you in shorts?"

"I mentioned it at the start of the stream," I say. "But there's this big, fluffy dog who has a box with a sign on it. I gave him money for the stuff, and found out that the fifty for warmth was actually for a warmth spell. It feels like summer! He said it'll last a few more hours."

"He's out again?" Jake snorts. "I haven't seen him, but Dad's told me about him and how the dude's son is super embarrassed by it."

"Who is?" Connor asks. "Why would his son be embarrassed? Isn't he a dog? Or is it the dog's owner?"

"The dog is actually a wolf," Jake tells him. "From a variety which can do slight shapeshifts. He takes on the form of a big, fluffy dog to make himself seem more friendly to kids rather than terrifying, and he's a first-gen transcendent. That is, he's someone who gained sapience by transcending his bestial nature. From what Dad told me, the old wolf and his wife learned how to shapeshift into other creatures while still beasts, and eventually figured out how to become human. That led to some stuff with their instincts and nature, eventually leading to their transcendence. And they have a kid who can shift between his real form and his wolf form like it's nothing. He's basically a reverse werewolf – a wolf who can turn into a human."

"Huh," Connor says. "That's… so there are werewolves?"

"Technically speaking," I say. "Xander is probably one. I mean, he can shapeshift, right? So he can probably turn into a wolf."

"Not the same thing," Jake shakes his head. "Since it's not an inherent part of his nature. And… I think the wolves' kid is the only person on Earth where it's a part of their nature and not a spell they're using. Sort of like how I have to use a spell to turn human.

"Speaking of that," Sam looks at me. "I'm guessing you haven't checked your phone since this morning?"

"Nope!" I answer. "Just been busy with everything, I forgot! Well, I did use it for a bit to look up enchantments, but then I switched to the glasses for that."

Today's been a really busy day for me, so I haven't taken the time to check my phone. I could have before coming here, or somewhere on the way, but anyone important would be meeting me either right now or… oh, crap. Xander's pre-nap picture. I'll have to respond to that soon.

"Figures," he snorts. "That means you missed probably the billion messages."

"For what?" I ask as I pull out my phone and discover I've been texted by probably every friend I have.

Ever.

"What in the chocolate factory?" I ask as I locate Xander's chat and send him back a picture.

He's so cute in his wolfkin form, though he does look really sleepy so he's probably completely out by now, considering how long ago he sent that message.

"You know Mrs. Meyer?" Sam asks. "The art teacher?"

"Yeah," I nod.

Mrs. Meyer is everyone's favorite teacher in the Dragon Falls School District. She teaches art at the middle school every morning, and at the elementary school in the afternoons Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Today would have been a day for an afternoon off.

"She showed up at school today in her real form," Jake snorts. "I didn't say anything because she hadn't revealed it, but she's a phoenix."

"A phoe-" I cut off.

The phoenix spoke as if she actually knew me, and she had clearly watched the joint science-art project earlier this year. It wasn't that she was just watching kids to make sure we were being treated right or whatever.

It was because she was one of the teachers. No wonder she knew I like doing crafts, she's seen me grow up doing them!

"Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait," I hold my hands up. "Are you telling me that our art teacher is a phoenix? And she used her afternoon off to come scold me for not decorating my bottle rocket when doing magic experiments?"

"Yeah!" Connor laughs. "I was there when she arrived and was soooo confused. I asked Sam and Jake and was like 'Isn't that the phoenix from the store incident', and Jake was just like 'Huh. Guess she decided to show herself?' And then Sam noticed she was wearing Mrs. Meyer's nametag."

"As it turned out," Jake says. "She sent the administration an email after the incident asking if magical beasts who are people are allowed to work at the school. It took until after classes yesterday for her to get a response – as long as they have a teaching certificate and can pass the background check, it's fine."

"So she came in today in her real form!" Sam laughs. "It confused eeeeveryone!"

"Not me," Jake says. "I've been expecting it ever since some of the Elders, like Grandpa Blaze, began revealing themselves to the public. My parents told me that if enough of the Elders do it, then regular folks might start revealing themselves. The Elders wouldn't have revealed themselves for no reason when the existence of nonmagical people has been a well-kept secret."

"Xander has a big influence," I nod.

"Not just that," Jake shakes his head. "Grandpa Blaze wouldn't have let himself be known publicly just for that. Not even for someone he likes as much as Xadner. Even if you guys tried revealing his existence, it wouldn't have done much. He let himself be known to the world. Grandma Celeste and Grandma Aurora, too. The Elders must've had a conference to determine what they should do, and probably deliberately started it with those connected to Xander."

"What're the Elders?" Connor asks. "You've mentioned them to me before, but didn't explain."

"In short?" Jake responds. "The eldest among their kind. It's a transcendent-formed people thing. At least, here on Earth," he shrugs. "Dunno 'bout other worlds. Since we don't really care for conflict and don't have the same types of greed as humans do, they're generally able to come to decisions more easily. And they all tend to be very wise, simply from experience."

"Even if a bit eccentric?" I ask.

"Even if a bit eccentric," he confirms. "Grandpa Blaze is the eldest of the Elders, too. No one actually knows how old he really is. His current age is known, but not his overall. He's outlived everyone who knows, other than maybe Magus Adrian."

"Speaking of that," Isaac says. "How come you call him 'Grandpa Blaze', even though he's not your grandpa? I mean, I know why we do – he told us to – but you also call the others 'Grandma' and 'Grandpa', too. Apart from Adrian King."

"Yeah!" I realize. "Even Axel does it, come to think of it. Is that another nonmagical person thing?"

"Kind of," Jake answers. "That's the best translation into human languages we've got for the actual words we use to refer to them, but it's basically a sign of respect to old people, especially ones who care for others, especially ones who care for the young."

"Huh," I say. "Okay."

"Can we get going?" Connor asks. "We're just kind of standing around, talking, and it's coooold!"

"Oh, hold on," I say. "I've got something for you."

"Wh-" Connor starts asking, but stops as I get off of my bike. "No!"

I scoop up some snow and start chasing him.

[Xander – 13 years]

"Hi, Ms. Rachel," I say. "I only feel your mind here right now. But no one told me the place got changed?"

Did they decide to change places and not tell me so I can't hang out? Is this when they finally decide I'm too much of a problem and they don't want to be my friend anymore, and this is their way of showing it?

Sig did send me a response to my pre-nap picture a little late, but he was probably riding his bike when I sent it. I'd thought that was because he had to meet up with the others and probably wanted to get there on time and not stop halfway. Maybe it was because he realized he hadn't and wanted to make me think everything was normal between us?

He didn't respond to my post-nap picture. That should have been a sign.

Ms. Rachel beckons for me to enter, so I do. Whatever it is, she probably doesn't want to let in more cold than necessary, even if it's a short conversation.

"No one told me it did, either," she says as she closes the door. "They probably ended up talking and getting distracted. Sig couldn't play Duty of Loyalty since the servers were down, so he did a magic experimentation stream instead. A phoenix showed up toward the end of that – the same one from the other week, I think – and made him decorate a bottle rocket. And as it turns out, she's the art teacher at Dragon Falls Elementary and Middle Schools! So they probably got distracted talking about that. Then maybe got into a snowball fight. With how long they've been gone, I was just fixing up some cocoa and cider for them."

"Mulled cider?"

"Mulled cider," she confirms. "Want some?"

"Yes, please."

So it's not that they decided they aren't my friends anymore, it's that I forgot that they like roughhousing and are probably doing it in the snow. They've done that in the backyard during our after-school hangouts a few times, too.

Ms. Rachel goes to the kitchen and pours me a mug of mulled cider, then offers me a banana.

"We'd have oranges and apples, too," she says. "Except we used up the last of those. Will be getting more when I go shopping tomorrow."

"Okay," I say. "Yes, please. And may I have a knife?"

"Sure," she gets me a knife as well, then I sit at the coffee table and cut the banana up as I eat it and drink the cider. "How'd your stream go?"

"I liked it," I tell her. "We made three cakes today. They're test cakes for next week's party, but the designs for those will be different. I'd offer you a slice, but I want to show them to my friends first. After, though, you can have a slice. There's lemon, strawberry, and vanilla."

"A slice of lemon, please," she says.

"Okay," I say. "Once we get ours, I'll get you a slice, too. Do you want ice cream to go with it?"

"We've got ice cream," she chuckles. "Sig keeps buying new containers when he's half-done with the last just because he's snack shopping and saw them."

"Homemade ice cream is better."

"We don't have an ice cream machine," she tells me.

"Maybe Santa will bring you one?" I say. "If you and Sig ain't interested in buying them but want one, he might bring one. We ain't that far from when he does his delivery trip."

Though there are cheap ones around $40 they could buy if they really wanted one. Sig would definitely spend the money for one if he did. I guess he doesn't want to do the extra work involved in making it himself. Even if I can do it in minutes, that doesn't mean he can.

Most people can't use magic to shorten the real time necessary when baking and cooking.

"Maybe he will," she smiles. "Are you okay by yourself while waiting for them?"

"Yeah," I answer. "If it's okay for me to be by myself here."

"You can," she says. "And you can head downstairs if you want, too. Just make sure the banana peel goes in the compost bin and the knife and cup go in the sink, like usual."

"Okay."

Ms. Rachel heads to her office, and I finish my banana and the cider, take care of my dishes, then head downstairs to wait for the others. If they're roughhousing, they'll probably be feeling hot. That means they'll probably go to their pants when they get here, or strip to their underwear before pulling on shorts.

Well, actually, they'd probably do that, anyway. But they'll definitely do it fast if they've gotten hot from roughhousing. Maybe if I'm in wolfkin form, it'll be okay?

Oh. I'm in wolfkin form. Did I forget to change back after my nap? Today must be a wolfkin day. I'll try to remember before bowling tonight.

After I pull off my hoodie, I swap my jeans with a pair of shorts. Dark blue athletic ones from MountainStorm Gear, with a lime green stripe running down the outer sides of their legs. It's weird to wear these with a regular long-sleeve, though. At the same time, I don't want to not wear a long-sleeved.

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Even alone, I feel so exposed with just my lower legs exposed. No blanket is covering me, so I am exposed. Should I change back into jeans? But these are my friends. It's okay. They won't hurt me. They never have, and they've had plenty of opportunities to. Sig, especially. And they have been around me when I'm wearing just shorts, before I stopped doing that because it's okay to not even if everyone else is.

Nope, nope, nope. I switch back to jeans, then pull Trenton out of my backpack. Some magitech tools come out as well, along with parts for me to work on. There's something I can work on while I wait, for one of my current projects.

"Xander?" Ms. Rachel pokes her head down here, and I look up. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Was I making noises?"

"Not bad ones," she says. "Just some humming, but quiet enough I wasn't hearing you upstairs. I was just checking, since they haven't shown up yet. I tried calling Sig, but he didn't answer. Might not've heard his phone, if they're still roughhousing."

"Oh," I say. "What time is… oh. It's four-thirty."

"Yeah," she chuckles. "They probably lost track of time."

"Are you sending me away?"

"No," she answers. "You can keep waiting, if you'd like. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

"Oh," I say. "I am. Thanks. It's so quiet and peaceful right now, I was able to get a lot of work done on this component. Oh! That reminds me, but when Sig takes you to the spa, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you're having people touching you," I say. "A lot. And I know I ain't ever gonna want that. How others can stand it when it's a stranger or not someone they're really close with is confusing. Like, I can snuggle Sig fine, but if it were Connor? Fuck no. And we're still friends. Dad and Mom are fine, too. But not Roderick. And I'd be fully clothed for all of those snuggles, not shirtless like for a massage."

"Who's Roderick?"

"A security guard at the house," I tell her. "My house. Well, it's really Dad's house since he owns it, but it's also mine since I live there, but not in the same way that it's Dad's. And Roderick's one of its guards. He makes sure my teachers don't try anything bad."

"Ah," she says. "Well, it can be a little uncomfortable to get a massage at first, but it's not as bad once you get used to it. And they try to have the same masseuse for you each time, so that you get used to them. That way, you can relax more knowing they're good and will take care of you."

"Okay," I pull a couple of orbs out of one of my bracelets. "I designed these. Greyson tested the various versions for me, and this is their current final form. They'll be going on store shelves next week."

"What are they?"

"Massage balls," I answer. "You turn them on and they'll give you a massage. Uh… hold on. These ain't in the packages."

I put the balls back, then pull out a pair which are in packages. The ones I pulled out aren't the ones actually going to store shelves, they're ones I built on my own. I built several of the final version so that I had extras in case Greyson accidentally broke his. Preparing items powerful enough to withstand our strength isn't easy, and I already do it for certain things for me.

While we both instinctively know how to control our strength, accidents can happen. And with Greyson's tendency to see how well things explode… having extras seems like a good idea to me. Said extras were made before the balls become a product for sale.

The ones manufactured at the production plant come in boxes big enough to fit a single massage ball, three bottles of massage oil (different types), and a small directions booklet. Greyson came up with the oil formula on his own – those were his creation to use with the balls I made. But since they work for it, they're a part of the package as well and they'll even be sold as separate refills in stores.

Grandpa Adrian dropped them off as I was leaving home to come here. He would've brought them with him when he came over after lunch, except they weren't ready when Mom texted him about the bitch.

"For you and Sig," I offer them to her. "They have directions on how to use them. And it means you ain't gotta go to a spa to get a massage and can get them pretty much anytime. The mana batteries inside will last for years, and there are directions for how to refill the oil. Oh, and they each come with three small bottles of oil. That's why there are three bottles in the picture for the label."

She looks at the boxes but doesn't accept them. There's hesitation in her mind, mixed in with confusion and discomfort. Did I do something wrong? These are supposed to help her and Sig feel more comfortable, not make her uncomfortable.

"You didn't have to do that," she says.

"I know," I say. "But I did. I originally thought of them 'cause of Greyson. He likes back massages, but has to be in the right mood and comfort level to get one, and it has to be from Cal because that's the only person he's comfortable enough with in the right way to let touch him there. And Cal's the only person who knows how to avoid touching spots that shouldn't be touched, on his shoulders and upper back. But that can make it difficult to get a satisfied feeling from the massage. The balls solve that. He's really comfortable with using them, so he can get a proper massage which covers his whole back, even the parts people shouldn't touch."

Ms. Rachel's mind relaxes a little when I say that, for some reason.

"But then as I was having them test them," I say. "I remembered that Sig pays for the two of you to get a massage every month, with money he gets from content and stuff. And I get extras of anything I create that I can give to anyone. And I was thinking, y'all probably ain't too comfortable having others massaging your backs, right? So what if I gave you some of the ones I have? It ain't like I'm gonna use twenty of 'em. One per person is fine enough. I guess some people could share, but that's just weird."

"And… how much are they?" Ms. Rachel asks.

"Free."

"I meant if we were to buy them in the store."

"You can't," I tell her. "Since they ain't out yet. So you wouldn't be spending any money since they ain't available there yet."

"I meant once they come out."

Then why didn't you say that from the beginning? How was I supposed to know if you aren't clear about what you're asking? It's not that hard to ask how much the kits will be once they're for sale.

"They'll be $500," I tell her. "It's magitech, but the higher price is also to deter just anyone from buying them. That way, it doesn't affect the massage industry too much. And they can only do a few types of massages, and the magi-artificial intelligence isn't able to adapt as well as a professional. Yet.

"That'd take a lot more work," I continue. "But Greyson doesn't need extra specialization so I didn't factor those in. So people would still go to a professional if they want a more tailored experience or special techniques or whatever. Stuff I didn't think about because I don't know enough to know what else is involved.

"The balls mostly have two modes," I add. "Rolling and deeper pressure, but vibrations can be turned on. It ain't gonna be the same as a vibration chair, but Greyson suggested it and then really liked it when the balls were vibrating slightly as they rolled across his back. So now it's one of the final features."

Ms. Rachel contemplates something for several moments, then nods.

"Okay," she accepts the boxes. "Sig might still want to go to the spa, but these will be useful at other times. And the spa has more than just massages – there's a hot spring to soak in, too, and a sauna, if we'd like to use it."

I still haven't used the sauna at home. You're supposed to use them naked and that's just too uncomfortable for me. I know some people use them in shorts or towels, but the sauna fairy was very clear when I asked that it's supposed to be a bare body. The steam can't penetrate as well if things are covered, nor can the sweat come out, cleaning the pores.

We're already somewhat obstructed just because of contact against the benches when sitting, but that's not as bad as with towels and swim trunks or whatever.

So I just haven't used the sauna. I'd rather not use it than to use it improperly and upset the sauna fairy who ensures it works. They probably use it improperly at the spa, though I'm sure Sig wouldn't use it at all. Too much of a risk, with unknown adults being able to use it as well.

"Oh," I say. "Okay. I hope you find they work well for you."

"Thanks," she smiles. "And if you need me for anything while waiting for them, let me know, okay?"

"Okay."

Ms. Rachel returns upstairs, and I return to working on the component. About five minutes later, Dad calls me.

"Hi, Dad," I say after answering the phone. "Do you need me to come home early?"

"No," he says. "But the other dads, Rachel, and I were just talking. Rachel asked in the group chat if any of us had heard from the others as you were waiting quietly in the basement for them to show up. It seems your friends are off doing something and forgot to let everyone know and aren't answering their phones. Sunset just began, so they've probably got a few more minutes before they realize what time it is."

"They're in trouble, ain't they?"

"No," he chuckles. "Paul said this happens often in winter. Ever since Connor and S.G. began hanging out, they'd sometimes start a snowball fight or something on the way home and then get distracted by that, especially if they were passing by the park or something and others joined in. They have enough energy to go for hours, so it's easy for them to get into it and not realize.

"So there's a change of plans," he tells me. "The others are being let know, so they'll see the messages once they finish. You can all hang out there until bowling tonight. I'm going to order pizza, and Derrick's going to pick it up after he leaves the office. He'll bring it there, and the other parents and Rachel will pay me their share for it."

Dad wouldn't have an issue paying for it all on his own, but that would make the other guardians uncomfortable. They don't want to try and come off as using him for his money, so they will always insist on splitting things fairly with him.

At least, I think I'm remembering what he told me correctly. It was during a discussion about how to know if someone's just trying to use me for my money.

The reason Dad's ordering rather than one of the others is because he can easily pay enough for the six of us before the shares are given. Jake and I eat a lot more than the others due to how much mana we have and use, so our own parents' shares are higher. The other guardians might not have enough available right now to afford paying for the two of us.

But Dad can, so he's the one who orders and pays, then the others pay him back for their charges' much smaller shares.

"Okay," I say. "But how come Mr. Fuller's picking it up and not one of the dads, or Ms. Rachel? Or it being delivered?"

"Delivery costs extra," he reminds me. "And Mr. Fuller was planning on picking up Turtle, then heading over there until it was time for bowling, anyway. He and Rachel were going to hang out, and Turtle was going to join them."

"Oh," I say. "So he's picking up Turtle first? Or the food?"

"Turtle first," he answers. "That way, the food isn't just sitting in his truck while he gets Turtle from the house."

"Okay," I say.

"Now," he says. "This is a sudden change to your schedule. You normally come home at five on Tuesdays, but now, the plan is for everyone to go home after bowling. That's quite a big difference, and it changes other things. No eating here, and no baking the bowling dessert. Are you okay with that, or do you want to stick to the schedule and come home at five, like usual?"

"Um…" I try to think. "Um…"

The schedule also includes hanging out with my friends right now, but they aren't here. That's mostly okay, though, because I'm waiting for them in the place we hang out at. The only bad thing was from my friends, for not letting me know the location changed.

But now the rest of the day's schedule might be wrong. I should go home at the usual time. But I want to hang out with my friends before bowling, too.

"You have about twenty minutes to decide," Dad tells me. "So it's okay to think about it some. I called you to let you know now so that you'd have time to adjust and decide."

"But don't you need to order pizzas?" I ask. "A big order like for six boys, including Jake and me, plus Ms. Rachel and Mr. Fuller, means it needs to be placed at least half an hour before the pickup time, so they can make it and have it ready by then."

"Derrick won't get there until about half-past," he tells me. "So there's time. I already talked to the restaurant to let them know we're placing a semi-big order, but we might not know for sure until five everything involved. But I did let them know the minimum amount of pizzas and the potential maximum. They said they can start working on that now and to let them know by about five if we'll need the rest. Just let me know by five what you decide, okay?"

"Okay."

"Love you, Xander."

"Love you, too, Dad," I say.

"Bye."

"Bye."

I put my phone down, pull out a cheesecake, remind Trenton he can't eat, then eat the cheesecake as I continue working on the component.

Roughly twenty minutes is enough time for me to be okay with the schedule for the rest of the day changing a lot, so I call Dad back.

"Hello, Xander," Dad greets me.

"Hi, Dad," I say. "I decided I'll stay here for the hangout. They ain't back yet, though."

"They haven't responded to any of the messages yet," he says. "But we did get confirmation that they're at the park from someone else."

"You sent a security guard to check, didn't you?"

"I'll add in the rest of the order now," Dad tells me. "Do you want me to pick you up when it's time to go bowling? Rachel said she can drive you. You won't be able to make dessert for bowling, though."

"It's always good to be prepared," I tell him. "I knew that even before you and Mom started teaching me to prepare for things. I have designated spare bowling desserts in a stasis bracelet, for if I end up needing them. So it's okay, I have spares. But. Um. I'd like you and Mom to pick me up for bowling. If that's okay?"

If they don't pick me up, then either the others have to go early, or my schedule has to get disrupted further and I don't bowl with Dad at eight. Or I have to walk there to be ready for bowling by eight, which would mean leaving even earlier.

"That is," Dad chuckles. "Alright, so I'll see you around seven-thirty, then."

That's so that we have enough time to arrive at the bowling alley, pay for our lanes, order at the concessions area, and get ready for our bowling session so we can begin at eight.

"Okay," I say. "Bye."

"Love you, Xander."

"Love you, too, Dad," I say. "Bye."

"Bye," he says, then hangs up.

I put my phone down and return to work on the component. My friends still aren't here when I feel the minds of Mr. Fuller and Turtle arriving. Just as I hear Mr. Fuller park his truck, my phone pings. When I check it, there's a message from Sig in the group chat. Another one quickly follows.

[Sig]: OMG!

[Sig]: SORRY, XANDER!

[Sig]: WE LOST TRACK OF TIME! IT DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT'S BEEN OVER TWO HOURS!

[Sig]: I'M GONNA MAKE IT UP TO YOU TOMORROW!"

An apology works just fine, and he can do that when he gets here. Why would it have to wait until tomorrow? And he wouldn't need to apologize if he hadn't forgotten things.

I put my phone back down, then head upstairs. The pizza smells really good. Some of the wings do, too. Just as I close the door to the basement, Turtle charges at me. He and Mr. Fuller entered the house right as I got up here.

A look from me stops Turtle from jumping up on me, but he's wagging his tail really hard and I can feel how excited he is as he waits in front of me.

"Hi, Turtle," I rub his head. "Have you been a good boy for Mr. Fuller?"

"Woof!"

"Okay," I say, then look at Mr. Fuller. "Hi, Mr. Fuller."

"Hey, Xander," he smiles. "How're you?"

"Hungry."

"Well, we've got pizza," he chuckles. "Wings, breadsticks, cheesy breadsticks, salads, pasta, cinnamon rolls, a brownie, and a giant cookie. Though some of it's still in the truck."

Dad must have ordered a variety for sides and dessert because of how many people it's meant to feed and the appetites of six teen boys, one of whom is really a dragon and the other of whom is me.

"You can eat without waiting for the others," Ms. Rachel tells me. "They're the ones who are late," she looks at Mr. Fuller. "Bastian just texted me as I was letting you in."

He texted me before letting his aunt know that he's on his way home? But she's his guardian, you're supposed to let your guardian know when you're expecting to be home. It doesn't seem like she's upset even though he broke the rules, but she does feel mildly irritated.

"Want me to help bring the rest in?" I ask. "I don't think I'll drop them."

"Sure," Mr. Fuller says. "They're in the passenger seat; door's unlocked."

"Okay," I say, then go to the front door and pull on my shoes.

Mr. Fuller puts the boxes he has down in the kitchen, then joins me in bringing in the rest of the food. Sig, Connor, Sam, and Isaac can probably eat two or three pizzas entirely on their own as a group, not including the sides. Jake and I will probably eat that much either combined or individually. There are five different flavors of wings, three different baked pasta containers, and the other sides. A lot of breadsticks and cheesy breadsticks.

This should definitely be enough to feed us all, with maybe a little bit leftover. Well, unless I really eat how much I'm feeling hungry for right now. I won't, though. Dad didn't order enough for that and the others still get their fill. What I order at the bowling alley tonight will mostly make up for it, and I have food in my backpack and bracelets and pouch, too.

In addition to the food, there are bottles of soda and one of lemonade. It's a good store-bought lemonade, with a very strong flavor to it. I like that pizza place because they use that and not a weaker one.

"Is Hunter coming?" I ask once everything is out and my shoes are off.

"No," Mr. Fuller answers. "He went in for work at five."

"Go ahead and serve yourself," Ms. Rachel tells me. "And you're free to get more if you need it, okay?"

"Okay," I say. "And thanks for letting me wait for them here, even though they're really late."

"You're welcome here," she smiles at me, and I can feel a little bit of happiness in her mind for some reason.

She's also not lying.

"Okay," I say. "What am I serving myself with? Paper plates or regular ones? Though I guess the pasta would go into bowls? Nothing got put out. Not even napkins."

Oh, crap. I said that out loud, didn't I? That's probably going to sound like I'm scolding an adult, which is Very Bad.

"Duh!" Ms. Rachel. gives herself a light whack on the forehead. "Let me get those!"

She puts out paper plates and bowls, napkins, disposable forks, and regular cups. It seems I'm not in trouble for that, which is good.

I'm allowed to use more than one plate or bowl if I need it for how much I want to grab, so I pull a tray out of my backpack.

What should I get for firsts, and how much?

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