[Xander – 13 years]

"Does that make sense?" Mr. Wilson asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "Um… I think?"

"Alright," he grabs a paper and places it on a tray on one of the shelves. "There's a practice worksheet. Do those, then we'll review your work."

I move my work board to the floor, then get up and grab the paper before returning to my beanbag. The work board returns to my lap, then I start working on the practice worksheet. It's geometry relating to rhombuses.

The worksheet has five rhombuses on it, and I have to do the math to find the missing information for each. Even though they look the same, their numbers are different. Once I finish, I put the paper back in the tray, and Mr. Wilson goes over my answers with me. He puts each rhombus up on the board, along with the problems I had to solve. Then, he walks through my work to show me what I did right and wrong.

I only got half of them wrong this time, and he has me do another packet after he erases the board. This one also has five rhombuses on it, but they're different from the others (even though they look the same). Their numbers are different.

When Mr. Wilson goes over the problems with me, I find that I only got one wrong this time.

"Good job," Mr. Wilson says once we're done. "The next geometry lesson will be a review one. I'll have some review packets which cover everything which will be in that one in the review packets tray starting tomorrow."

That's a little confusing, but I think he was saying that everything which will be in the review lesson will be covered in a review packet, as well. Not the lesson itself, but the subjects and maths we'll cover in it.

"Okay," I say.

"Since we don't have much time left before the period ends," he says. "That'll be all for today. Did you have anything you wanted to go over in the last few minutes, or finish now?"

"Finish now, please," I answer.

"Alright," he says. "Then you're dismissed. Have a good rest of your day."

"Thank you," I respond. "I hope the rest of your day goes well, too."

I put away the things which need it and pack up the things which need it, then pull on my backpack and pick up Trenton.

"Xander?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"Yes, Ms. Johnson?"

"What's the review packets tray?"

"A tray where he puts review packets in," I answer.

"And it's purpose?"

"I can pick out packets from it to do," I answer. "To review stuff he's already taught me. That's for when I'm not feeling sure and feel like I might need more practice with that subject. And those are different from the review worksheets we do in class, when there's going to be a test. They cover the same things, it's just a different practice for it. The math review packet I turned in today came from that one."

"Are those the packets you do to make up for missing class?"

"No," I answer. "The review packets are extra. There's a separate tray for picking out lesson packets from."

I show Ms. Johnson the trays, which do have labels on them. They're also in sight from where she was sitting.

As I show them to her, I make sure to remind her that I'm not legally required to do them, they're just legally required to be an option for me. Dad adds that he does require me to do them, even if the law doesn't.

It's still not a legal requirement. Their purpose is to allow those exempted from classes due to having an actual profession/career a way to still receive school lessons on various subjects. While we could just look things up or study a book, having packets prepared by an educational official who knows what they're doing is better.

Though maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to suggest to Grandpa Adrian that they all get put online? A website dedicated to providing these might not be a bad idea. They're standardized in order to ensure that teachers aren't making them ridiculously hard or ridiculously easy. All of them already exist in a database, after all. That's how teachers access them to provide them to us.

If they're online, then students like me could just log into the website and do the packets. We'd probably still need a teacher to help us if we have questions, but I think a website for providing the packets and grading them would be easier and more convenient.

Though since they aren't, there's probably a reason for that. I'll ask Grandpa Adrian later. The reason might be something I can't think of but which makes sense, or it could just be that he hadn't thought about it.

There are quite a few things which he hasn't thought about but which would make sense to do or have set up.

"Now," Ms. Johnson says once we're done talking about the trays. "I understand you normally stream in the afternoons, rather than do classes. However, your Tuesday streams are also a lesson, correct?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Mom teaches me stuff during them. Well, she teaches me stuff about baking and cooking even out of them, too, but this is different. It also wasn't always a lesson, it just sort of became one once Mom got more involved in them."

"Okay," she says. "What time does that lesson start? Does it begin when the stream begins?"

"It begins after lunch," I tell her. "Mom and I go shopping for the stuff for it then, and that counts as part of the lesson, even though it's usually the same thing."

"Okay," she says. "Around what time does that begin?"

"Roughly noon," I answer. "But we might leave sooner if we're done with the lunch stuff sooner. I want the Tuesday streams to start no later than one. That way, there's plenty of time to bake cakes or whatever."

Baking competitions often give time limit of one hour, one and a half hours, or two hours. With accelerated time and my magic helping to bake stuff, two hours is usually more than enough.

"I'll take my lunch, then," she says. "And rejoin you for lunch."

"You're not eating with us?"

"I brought my own food," she says.

"But not eating it with us?" I ask. "You can eat with us. Mom made enough for you, too."

Ms. Johnson doesn't look sure, but Dad reassures her that Mom would've expected that she ate with us if she's going through my classes with me for today.

"What's normally for lunch for school days?" Ms. Johnson asks him.

Why would she ask him? He's not here for them most of the time.

"I don't know," Dad tells her. "They recently began bringing me lunch on Mondays, before his afternoon stream, and that varies a little but is usually some form of chicken. I don't know how much that differs from his normal stuff. It could be that Katie lets him pick, or she just has a plan she follows."

"I asked if we could do steaks for today," I say. "But she said no."

Dad feels amused by that. What's amusing about wanting steaks for lunch? I've had them for lunch plenty of times.

"What did you ask for after that?" He asks.

"Cheesesteak."

Dad chuckles a little at my response. I really don't understand what's funny. Even Ms. Johnson seems to think it's funny, though she's only smiling a little.

We make our way to the dining room, where Mom is just finishing putting out cheesesteaks. One for her, one for Ms. Johnson, two for Dad, and thirteen for me. French fries, a fresh leafy/veggie salad, a fruit salad, and onion rings make up the sides.

"Hers is plain?" Dad asks as he notices Ms. Johnson's cheesesteaks.

"I told Mom she likes them plain," I tell him. "She texted me between classes and asked if I knew how she liked them."

"You know how I like them?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"That food truck came to the home during the Festival of Life," I remind her. "Offered everyone a free cheesesteak and basket of fries. Except they were more like paper bowls than baskets, but I guess they were called that because they resemble the food baskets? They were kind of elongated rectangular. Everyone was allowed to order what kind they wanted, and you ordered a plain one with provolone cheese."

"You remember that?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"Kind of?" I answer. "It's a little fuzzy. So I used magic to look into the World Memory and make sure I was right. You ordered a plain one with provolone cheese, regular fries."

Most of the other boys ordered cheesy fries or fries with bacon pieces. We were allowed one addition to the fries.

"Didn't your grandfather tell you not to look into the World Memory?" Dad asks.

"No," I answer. "He did put some restrictions on it, like no using it to view people in private moments, but that wasn't a private one. It was in the front yard, by the street, so it wasn't very private. And he actually gave me a list of what counts as 'private', and it didn't meet any of those. Most of them are things I wouldn't have used it for, anyway. Like people having sex."

I feel myself making a face at that. I don't want to watch others have sex. That's disgusting.

"And he's my great-grandfather," I add.

Ms. Johnson feels surprised, but that doesn't make sense. She knows that Grandpa Adrian is my great-grandpa. The only reason I don't call him "Great-Grandpa Adrian" but "Grandpa Adrian" is because he said it's okay to call him the shorter version. Most people apparently don't say someone is "Great Grandpa", they just still call them "Grandpa".

At least, when referring to them this way. He's still "my great-grandpa".

I start eating lunch while the adults talk with each other as they eat. My cheesesteaks have provolone cheese, sauteed onion strips, and grilled bell pepper strips. They were all cooked together, and it's really good.

"Is it alright if I join you for the shopping trip?" Dad asks. "I know it's normally just you and Katie." "Mom already asked me that," I tell him. "She texted me. And I said I'll probably be okay with it, since I knew before the first class. And I am, so it's okay."

I make sure everyone has their shoes and jackets/hoodie on (I'm the only one wearing a hoodie), then lead our small group to the street. Dad and Ms. Johnson seem confused, but it must not be important because they don't say anything about their confusion.

"Okay," I look at them after making sure the gate for those walking/riding bikes and hoverboards is closed and secure. "I'm gonna teleport us there now."

"You teleport there?" Dad asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "That way, we don't spend as much time on driving, giving us more time for other stuff. Like going through the store. Or in case something unexpected happens. And it means that I might be able to start the stream earlier, too."

"Oh," he says. "Okay."

"Teleporting in three… two… one."

We arrive on the sidewalk at the front of the store, between it and the parking lot. It's okay to teleport here. The store manager told me it was a couple of weeks ago, after finding out I was teleporting Mom and me to the sidewalk at the street, then we walked the rest of the way to the building.

"Come on," I say. "Let's go get the stuff."

When we enter the store, there's an associate standing nearby. Her name is Lucy, and she's really nice. She's also almost always at the doors when we arrive and if not, close to them. Most of the time, she also joins us for our trip through the store, to help us in case we need anything.

"Hello, Xander!" She greets me.

"Hello, Lucy," I greet her.

"It's usually just you and Katie," she says. "Who might these two be?"

"This is my dad," I gesture to him. "His name's Trey. And this is my case worker, Ms. Johnson. Dad stayed home from work today, but it's okay because he's the big boss, so he can take days off when he wants."

"As long as the work still gets done," Dad adds.

"Yeah," I nod. "And Ms. Johnson is going to all of my classes today, to make sure it's being done right since I'm homeschooled and that's not normally allowed. But it's a surprise visit, so that Dad wouldn't have enough time to set things up to trick her. But I'm still getting an education, so I hope it's okay."

I look at Ms. Johnson.

"We'll talk about it after," she tells me. "But you don't have anything to worry about. What do you normally do once you're here?"

"Um…"

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"The list," Mom prompts. "What's today's baking item?"

"Cake," I answer. "I wasn't allowed to do a big cheesecake, a big cookie, or a big pie this week, so I decided to do cakes again. It ain't like I ain't gonna be making more next week, for the party. So I came up with designs for the cakes. Practice design, and then the real ones. Here's the ingredient list for today's stuff."

I summon the list to my left hand, since Trenton's in my right.

"Um… I think I have the order right for best way through the store."

"May I?" Lucy holds out a hand.

After having experienced her doing this several times, I know that she's asking if she can see the list. It's okay for her to, so I hand it to her.

"You did," she says. "This is the optimal path to get everything, with minimal path crossovers. It looks like it's going to be a big cake, based on these quantities."

"Yeah," I nod. "The real one's going to be even bigger. It's gotta feed at least thirty people. Maybe even more. The parents and guardians and siblings were invited this time, so there might be a hundred or more people there, depending."

"All in one cake?" Mom asks. "You might want to do several cakes, then."

"That was the plan," I nod. "So that there can be three flavors. Strawberry, lemon, and vanilla. The icing will probably all be vanilla, unless I transmute them so their colors match what we want rather than having to do the flavors. But the list for today only factored in vanilla icing for each of the cakes."

"How many are we making today?" Mom asks.

"Three," I answer. "One for each flavor, each with a different design. One's gonna have snowmen decorations, one's gonna be designed like a wintery forest with a few snowmen and animals, and one's gonna be designed like a hill with people sledding down it and a snowball fight at the top."

"Are those for today or for the party?"

"For today," I answer. "Since it's being streamed, I thought it would be better to do the ones others would find nicer to look at. They're more for show than eating, even if they'll be eaten after. The party has different designs. Santa riding his sleigh across a lawn, elves dancing in a circle, and a blizzard wolf in a forest."

"Elves dancing in a circle?" Lucy asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "Santa told me that the elves like to dance in a circle when the year's work is done. It's their way of celebrating the completion of and another successful Festival of Frost. Well, for them. They finish on the first day of it."

I know it's probably just a hallucination, but I refuse to accept that until this Festival of Frost. What if he's real and I'm not hallucinating Santa and the reindeer? It's better to accept that I might be wrong about it being hallucinations and be wrong about that than to accept that he's not real and then find out that he is.

So until this Festival of Frost, I'll keep believing that he's real. Then, if I don't see him like I usually believe I do, then I'll know that he's not real.

If I do see him, then I can say without a doubt that he's real.

"Based on this list," Lucy says. "A flatbed would be better than a basket."

"Oh, right."

We swap carts, then Lucy helps us around the store. There's no vanilla extract on the shelf when we reach that section, so she radios the back to see if they've got some. They do, so that gets brought over to us and the associate who brought it out begins stocking the shelf after handing me what I need.

"Sorry 'bout that, little man," he says. "Looks like it got missed when we were stocking earlier."

Everything else on my list is on the shelf. Once we finish getting them, we head up to the front to pay. I don't recognize the cashier, and she has a "New Associate" sticker on her name tag. Is she going to be mean? She feels a little annoyed to me. And frustrated.

"Dad?" I look at him when it's time to pay.

"Yes?" He responds.

"What's a skimmer?"

"Depends on the context, why?" He asks.

"Trenton told me not to put my card in because there's a skimmer."

"What?" Lucy asks, then starts messing with the card reader.

A few moments later, something detaches from it. A cover which resembled the card reader's, which fit right over it. But the cover is strange. There's no magic in it, but Trenton was telling me not to use the card reader while that was on.

"I need John and Tina to the registers," Lucy says into the walkies. "John and Tina to the registers ASAP. All cashiers, pause transactions. Cashiers, pause transactions."

There are only a few registers open right now, but they each have a customer at them. That's going to make people unhappy. Why do they all have to stop because of the skimmer thingy on this one?

"It's some sort of scientech thing?" I look at Dad.

"Yeah," he frowns. "It reads card information, so that people can steal it. Not that that would work for your card, for various reasons, but it's bad for some. Basically, it means that whoever stole the information can use it to make purchases using those cards. Cases of it get worse during the winter holiday season. People are spending a lot more money, so scammers can manage to go unnoticed on some of their thefts for awhile."

"Oh," I say. "I thought cards were secured against that sort of thing?"

"The ones for minors are," he says. "Because they need a special verification to confirm it's really you spending it. And your card's enchanted to prevent the information from being stolen… somehow. But standards cards aren't."

"Oh," I say. "I should probably let Grandpa Adrian know that I have a card-maker which puts those magics into the cards. It works really well, so it'd probably be a good replacement for the normal makers. You can get ten cards printed with that magic woven into it for just 1 mana, and it adds in all sort of security features which prevents it from being stolen. The magic can tell the intent and purpose of the device reading the card and only allows certain types to use them."

"Why do you have a debit card printer?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"I originally made a printer for making IDs," I tell her. "For when I go on a field trip in groups. That way, we can have IDs showing which group we're a part of and what our schedule is. Remember? I showed you the ones I had from before."

"I remember those," she says. "You made a printer for those?"

"Yeah."

"And now it's a printer for debit cards?"

"No," I tell her. "I got bored and looked to see if I could modify its design to work for those, just to see if I could. Then I modified it further so there's no magnetic strip or that little chip on the cards. They still work with inserting them, but it's all just the one piece of plastic now."

"What's going on?" A woman who approached as we speak asks Lucy; Lucy's at the next register over.

"Skimmer," Lucy shows it to her. "It was on the reader Xander's at, and there was one here, too. Might be on all of them."

"So does that mean we can't pay?" I ask. "Or can we still pay? The skimmer's off now."

"It wouldn't affect you at all," Dad says. "And paying cash makes it even safer. But we'll have to see what they say. They might want to secure the systems and have IT inspect them to ensure there aren't any further security risks."

"Okay," I say. "And I do have enough cash for this."

"You brought that much with you?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"I always have several thousand on me," I tell her. "But when I leave with the intention to go shopping, I make sure to grab extra cash from the safe in my quarters. Enough that it should cover everything and then some, just in case. That way, if something's wrong and the reader won't accept my card, I have another form of payment. If I have another form of payment, then I can pay and not get accused of trying to steal, even though I was trying to pay."

"You keep thousands on you?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "I have enough money to do that, just in case I need the cash for something."

"You mean your parents do?" The cashier asks, the annoyance in her mind mixed with contempt as well.

"Yeah, they do," I tell her. "But why did you bring them up? I'm talking about my money, not theirs."

"Because kids don't have thousands sitting around," the cashier says. "If anyone did, it would be parents in rich families. Any money their kids have would come from them."

"That's bullshit and I can't tell if you're fucking stupid or just a fucking bitch."

"Xander!" Dad's tone is sharp.

"It's true!" I look at him. "There are plenty of rich kids out there! Even if she hasn't heard of me, surely she's heard of Luke! He's literally been in published papers! Does she think that any money he earns from the generators and other work he does for the company comes from his parents? It comes from his job. And plenty of minors earn money! And that's legally theirs! If she ain't stupid, then she's just a fucking bitch who's taking out whatever it is she's annoyed about on me!"

"Everyone knows stories about stuff like that is hyped up," the cashier huffs. "Lucas Gates doesn't actually make that stuff, his parents just coach him on what to say. Kids can't be geniuses, they're kids!"

"So people magically become geniuses when they're adults?" I look at Trenton. "Believing that means she's just a fucking bitch who hates kids."

"Why are you acting like the bear can talk?" She asks.

"I'M NOT HALLUCINATING!"

I pull Trenton off of my shoulder and hug him against my chest. It's so hard to breathe. Why is she being so mean? Why is she being so mean? Why is she being so mean? I'm not hallucinating Trenton talking to me. I'm not hallucinating Trenton talking to me. I'm not hallucinating Trenton talking to me. He really talks. He really talks. He really talks. They just can't hear him. They just can't-

"Xander," Dad's voice cuts into the jumble. "Inhale deeply. Deeply. Just like that. Don't forget to slowly exhale."

Right. Breathing out's important.

"His pants were made for that?" Ms. Johnson asks as Dad continues helping me trying to calm down.

"No," Mom answers. "He uses tailoring magic to modify his pants and underwear if he shifts while wearing them. Looks like he's gotten really overwhelmed, if he went wolfkin in public. Trey, I texted," she clears her throat. "Let him know what's happening. I have a feeling we'll need his assistance with this, if he's gone wolfkin for this."

Who?

"Thanks," Dad says.

"Xander?" Grandpa Adrian asks, right after appearing beside us. "Why do you have that book out?"

Which page is it? Which page is it? Which page is it?

"You're not planning on using your mind magic in a bad way, are you?" He asks.

"What book is that?" Dad asks.

"A booklet I gave him to help him learn to harness his mind magics," Grandpa Adrian answers. "From what he's told me, he's only looked at a few of the magics in it. Mostly related to memory packets, but also regarding his natural empathy."

"What's going on over here?" Lucy asks. "O-oh. Mr. King. I-sorry. I'm not used to this appearance for you."

Too many people. Too many people. Too many people. And why is the cashier feeling even more annoyed now? At least she's feeling nervous. If she weren't, then she'd be fucked in the head. Grandpa Adrian is here and he's not going to let her get away with being a bitch.

"Xander's feeling crowded," Grandpa Adrian states. "Could we all step back to give him some space, please? Ah. Psychometry."

"Psychometry?" Dad asks.

"A hybrid mind-time spell," Grandpa Adrian explains. "It uses temporal magics to look back in time to read the history of an object. The peering and information download are through mind magics. While it's technically primarily a temporal spell, it's reacting to specific magics, mainly mind. Essentially, it's a spell to look at the impressions left by the minds interacting with the object. Though the actual process takes a lot more than that to explain, those are the basics."

I touch the card reader. Oh. That's why the cashier's so mad. I look at Lucy. Then at the cashier. Then back at the card reader.

"Hm?" Grandpa Adrian asks, then touches the card reader. "Ah. So he was looking to see who put a skimmer on it? And it's this young woman here."

He does another spell, but I'm not paying too much attention to that because I'm looking at the bitch. No wonder she was annoyed with me. I ruined her scam.

"Well," Grandpa Adrian says. "Yes, that would make a thief annoyed. Having a thirteen-year-old figure it out would really ruin one's day. Upon looking into it, I can see that most customers have been paying in cash as well."

Oh. He must've used the World Memory to look into things.

"Fraud is a crime, you know," Grandpa Adrian tells the bitch. "So too is theft. You'll be enjoying prison time. Before the officers arrive to investigate the skimmers, there's something else. You have heard of Xander, but believe that all of his accomplishments are fake. That includes things on live streams. Such as him closing a Rift, breaking a wyvern's neck with his raw strength, and one-shotting a leviathan.

"Those were all very real," Grandpa Adrian tells her. "If it weren't for me restricting him, he'd be doing far more than that, too. All of his creations are his as well. Not something an adult designed and he was given credit for. Xander uses temporal acceleration to grant himself more time while aging at the same rate as real time. He's spent hundreds of days developing his products, and Xander? What is that?"

I just summoned a device from the workshop, and it's floating in the air between us. Grandpa Adrian mentioning the stuff I make made me think of it and how I should give it to him now so I don't forget later.

"Is that the debit card printer you mentioned?" Dad asks, and I nod.

"The what?" Grandpa Adrian looks at it. "Oh. Well, that would certainly be useful. In hindsight, I should have come up with something like that before. I've mostly been letting tech for cards develop naturally, but that would definitely make things more secure. I'll have its design finalized, then have all of the banks under my group switch to using them. Should the watermark feature remain?"

"Watermark feature?" Dad asks.

"Yes," Grandpa Adrian grabs the device and inspects it. "It's designed to add a magical watermark, a sort of seal. Imperceptible to normal eyes, but the watermark effectively makes it impossible to alter the card further. I could manage it, and so could Xander, but no one else on Earth. Of any species."

I forgot I added that.

"By the way," Grandpa Adrian looks at Lucy. "I did a thorough analysis of all of the systems, and there was no further tampering, just the addition of the skimmers. It's safe to continue using them once the skimmers are off."

I can feel Grandpa Adrian's gaze on me, and when I look up at him, he's got a small smile on his face.

"And Xander?" His smile widens just a little. "I used psychometry on this to see the reason behind you making it. You were using telekinesis to eat a steak while doing so."

Using telekinesis to use silverware and other dishes frees up my hands to do other things. And it was a very good steak.

"Xander…" Dad groans. "I told you not to do that."

The specific wording was "don't do that at the dinner table". If he meant "at all", then why didn't he say so? I didn't know it wasn't allowed in the workshop, either. He did clarify that "the dinner table" included the tables at restaurants when I asked, so I thought it was just the specific stuff he said.

"I would've expected her to run," Mom comments. "Don't thieves usually try once they're caught?"

"She wanted to," Grandpa Adrian says. "But I put a spell on her to keep her from leaving that spot. Fortunately, officers were nearby when the call was made, and they're arriving now."

Fortunately?

"I can see you're confused," Grandpa Adrian says. "Yes, 'fortunately'. The sooner she's taken away, the better. And Lucy?"

"Y-yes?" Lucy responds.

"Thank you for taking good care of Xander," he smiles at her. "I can tell you actually like him as a customer. He seems to be rather fond of you as well."

She's always nice and helpful.

Officers arrive and talk with John (he's the store manager), and since Grandpa Adrian has given the clear, Tina (the front end manager) takes over for my transaction. Officers take the bitch away, and Grandpa Adrian gave the all-clear for the systems so Tina signs onto the register and begins scanning my stuff. She has to redo it since the previous transaction was on the bitch's account. Tina also gives us a discount due to the trouble and the bitch being a bitch.

"Xander?" Mom says softly as we start to leave the store. "No telekinesis on the purchases or cart until after we cross the first set of doors, remember?"

Oh. Right.

Once we enter the vestibule, I telekinetically lift my purchases and move the cart into the spot for the flatbed carts, then we leave the building.

"Xander," Dad says. "You don't need to take us to the street, you can go straight to the kitchen, so you can set things up for your stream. If you're still wanting to do it."

"Would you be okay with me joining for this one?" Grandpa Adrian asks. "Not to participate, to watch. I don't need to be on the camera or mentioned at all."

Even if I weren't okay with it, telling Grandpa Adrian not to do something he wants to do is Very Bad. But I'm okay with it, so I nod.

"We're not doing it in the kitchen anymore," Mom tells Dad. "Starting this week, we're doing them in the rec center's culinary zone. There's more space there, which is better with the bigger containers we're using and Xander floating things around."

Moving it there was my idea, not Mom's. She was fine with the house's kitchen as the location for the streams, but I felt like it's better to do it in my rec center. It's meant for fun while the main kitchen is meant for making stuff for us to eat normally.

"Okay," Dad says. "You can teleport us straight there, Xander. There's no need to go to the street."

That would definitely help save time, which is important since we're doing three cakes.

"Want me to do the countdown?" Mom asks, and I nod. "Alright. We're teleporting in three… two… one."

I teleport us to the culinary section of the main rec room in my rec center. Mom helps me put everything into place, and she also reviews my designs to make sure they're doable. They are, so she doesn't need to make any amendments to it. Dad sets up a spot for him, Grandpa Adrian, and Ms. Johnson to watch from.

Once Mom and I finish setting everything up, including my streamer orbs, I go into my dorm room here so I can change outfits. I also make sure to change my glasses to my streamer glasses, then return to the culinary zone and look at Grandpa Adrian. He and the other adults are talking in a circle about the incident at the store and how he'll work on making sure things like that won't happen again.

I think he's referring to skimmers.

"I-I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

"Not as far as I'm aware," Grandpa Adrian looks at me. "Why?"

"But what if I am and you didn't notice?"

"Is this about what she said about Trenton?" Dad asks. "Don't listen to her, Xander. She was just being mean. It's okay to-"

"Ah," Grandpa Adrian looks at Trenton. "It's about that, huh? I think I can understand why you might believe you're hallucinating. But you're not. Trenton? If you'll please?"

Without me doing anything, Trenton floats up out of my arms and over to Grandpa Adrian. That wasn't my great-grandpa, either. I've always sensed another energy in him, and that's the one that was moving him.

The fact that the others can see this means I haven't been hallucinating the energy and stuff with him at all.

"Allow me to introduce you to -," Grandpa Adrian says, and Trenton's right paw waves to us, moved by that same energy within the bear. "A very young god who's possessing the bear in order to learn about the world."

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