First bell tasted like dry air and pencil dust. The hallway did its stampede thing—shoes squeaking, lockers coughing. I slid through the current with my backpack light and my sleeve tugged down over Sunband v0.2. The LED pressed a quiet pulse against my wrist like a cat head-butting for attention.
Priya fell into step beside me, braid swishing like a metronome.
"Team Wyvern. STEM showcase check-in: are you building a toaster that shoots waffles or something disappointingly practical?"
"Disappointingly practical," I said. "But with style."
"Acceptable," she decreed, then peeled off toward art. "Don't explode anything. That's my job."
'Don't promise things you can't keep,' I thought, and smiled anyway.
[SchoolNet — "new cam @ crosswalk"]: Was that there yesterday?
[reply]: District grant
[reply]: Alvarez says "grant with teeth." Idk what that means
[reply]: means behave, gremlins
I didn't look up at the camera perched on its smug pole; I listened. Its gimbal had that cheap-servo hiccup on sweep-left. The hum sat too clean in the air. Cameras grow in pairs. I found the second with a shoe-tie near the bike rack and let my eyes be boring.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Mrs. Lehman did an energy-transfer lesson with four markers and the joy of a children's TV host. I kept my two-answers rule, passed Priya a "friction" nod when she needed it, and let the class clap for the right reasons.
The penny in my pocket warmed when I rolled it between finger and not-finger. I didn't float it. I received it. It buzzed one time like it was alive and then behaved. Edges matter. Keep it thin until it listens.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Lunch was a sun-cooked rectangle of blacktop. I walked slow laps because thinking moves better when your feet do. Across the field, scrunchie girl from soccer telegraphed her through-ball like it owed her money. Priya yelled "NO TELLS" at her because friendship is honesty yelled across a lawn.
At the crosswalk, Mr. Alvarez (custodian, volunteer firefighter, owner of the world's most heroic key ring) set orange cones with the solemnity of a parade marshal. He saw me and tipped his chin.
"Grayson. Science fair trouble yet?"
"Only the lawful kind," I said.
"Mm," he said, which is adult for 'I believe you in theory.'
Light cycled. Kids flowed. A white delivery van idled second in line to turn. Its engine note rode high and unhappy. The driver looked at his phone and then through it. I don't love that sound.
The light changed. The first car went. The van jumped forward, then braked, then decided it wanted to meet the curb. The curb decided to introduce it to the crosswalk.
The small kids nearest made big eyes. Mr. Alvarez went hey! and stepped out, already throwing his arms wide. The van was a bad dog on a too-long leash.
Everything in me tightened into one clean line.
'Noise before move. Break the stare.'
My mouth yelled "Cone!" and my hand flicked two fingers at the stacked pile. The bubble pushed thin and low; the top cone tipped, tumbled, skittered into the lane with a scuff that sounded like a church bell to drivers. Brakes. Horn. Heads turned away from me, toward the loud orange triangle doing its performance art.
Then the van's tire kissed the cone, skated. I slid the disc under the bumper just long enough to take impact and turn it into slide. Receive, redirect, ground. The bumper flexed like a nose remembering how to breathe. The van sighed into the curb instead of into the crosswalk.
Kids squealed because near-miss adrenaline tastes like carnival. Mr. Alvarez planted both palms on the hood and looked at the driver the way earthquakes look at houses. The driver mouthed "sorry" four times, all consonants.
My Sunband blinked a single unhappy pulse.
[Sunband v0.2]: 68% → 63%(impulse catch, low drain)
"Everybody back on the chalk!" Alvarez barked. "Eyes up, phones down!"
He glanced at me. I pointed down the street, not at the van. "Mom pick-up's backing up. You want the extra cones?"
"I do," he said, in a way that meant I saw you not be dumb. We placed cones. I breathed. The camera behind me panned left on its cheap servo and missed the main event by a heartbeat because it glamorously couldn't be bothered.
[Neighborly — "Crosswalk near Hawthorne"]: van hopped curb, everyone ok. Alvarez is 10/10
[reply]: who knocked the cone? legend
[reply]: cone did it itself. be nice to cones
_ _ ♛ _ _
Afternoon drifted by on worksheets and muttered jokes. Priya asked for gum; I said gum is a tool of chaos; she called me a cop. We compromised on half a stick.
On my way out, I almost ran into Eve in the admin lobby. She was in civilian: ponytail, hoodie, a math binder that had definitely been through a fight. She paused like she was scanning for exit paths that weren't doors, then smiled at me with her whole face.
"Hey, tiny Stark," she said.
"Hey, pink meteor," I said.
Her eyebrows did a hop. "Tell Mark he owes me fries for bailing on study group."
"I'll invoice him," I promised, and tucked away the fact that her right shoulder dropped like she'd been pulling Gs for a couple hours. Shoulders too tight wastes energy, Dad said. I didn't say it. It wasn't my note to give.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Dinner smelled like garlic and rain (it hadn't rained; Debbie had decided the house should smell like it could). Mark talked split times and Coach's new favorite word (cadence). I listened to how proud lived under his ribcage and pretended not to.
Nolan set the mail down and took his seat like the chair had been waiting specifically for him. He did the family version of small talk: three questions shaped like one.
"Good day?" he asked.
"Peas behaved," Mark said. "Physics didn't."
"We survived middle school," I offered. "Priya threatened me with art."
Nolan's gaze flicked. If the window was a question this morning, the table was one now. Debbie poured water. The clink sounded like a gavel.
"Anything interesting near the school?" Nolan asked, casual as a locked door.
Debbie's hand paused on a glass. Mark's eyes went to me.
I pictured the cone flipping. I pictured the bumper sliding safe. I pictured the man in the van staring at his phone like it owed him an apology.
"Boring," I said, and made it true. "Mr. Alvarez taught me how to set cones like a pro. No one died."
Debbie's mouth tugged into a good that was also a thank you. Nolan's shoulder let go a fraction of an inch.
"Alvarez is useful," he said. "Listens."
"He's the final boss of custodians," I said.
"I'm inviting him to dinner," Debbie decided.
Nolan almost smiled. Almost.
We ate. Mark did an impression of his coach's legs that made Debbie choke-laugh. I cleared plates and didn't drop a single fork with my hands or otherwise. I am very talented like that.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Later, on the porch, Mark texted Eve about study group; Eve texted back a knife emoji and a heart; William texted "omni zaddy count is at four," followed by a photo of a salad he swore he was enjoying.
"William's gonna get himself banned from my house," Mark said, fondness hiding behind threat.
"He already has," I said. "Mrs Mom lifted his ban because he helps with dishes."
"Mrs Mom is a soft touch."
"Mrs Mom is powerful," I corrected.
The sky did a blue-to-ink gradient. A moth pinged the porch light because it had ambitions. Inside, Nolan's footsteps paused outside the door the way they always do—our house's heartbeat—and then moved on.
My wrist light blinked once. 62%. Enough for practice. Not enough for drama. I decided to be boring on purpose. You can't build a life out of fireworks; you can build it out of habits.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Before bed, I added three lines to PROPERTY OF DOOMBRINGER STEVE:
— Cone first (noise), then redirect.
— Borrow other people's eyes.(Alvarez.)
— If Dad asks a specific question, answer a smaller specific truth.
I drew a cone with heroic eyelashes and shut the notebook because sometimes that's how you keep a day from spilling into tomorrow.
The house settled. The fan on the ceiling did its circle math. I let my bubble be thin around my ribs and breathed into it like a lung that wasn't mine but lived with me.
I didn't sleep fast. That was okay. I rested on purpose.
Tomorrow would bring more sky. I would bring better edges.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Rules — Full Compilation (1–60)
Foundations
Act normal.
Be a kid when you can.
Small helps count.
Listen on purpose.
Ask questions like you don't know anything.
If you mess up, stop.
Journal everything. (Facts > fear.)
Keep the question mark private.
Smile and shrug. (If people look too long.)
Two answers max per class. (Make space.)
Control & Safety
11) Treat everything like it's made of glass.12) If startled, freeze—don't grab.13) Eggs = practice.14) Don't test things you can't untest.15) Practice in shade when you can.16) Track charge by feel; don't depend on it.17) Measure drain. (Sunband before/after drills.)18) Field = extension, not force. (Get under, then lift.)19) Edges matter. Keep it thin until it listens.20) Receive, don't catch. (Let force go through you into ground.)
Body & Sun
21) Sun helps. Don't chase it at school.22) Eat when everyone eats.23) If panic → sun or water → breathe. (4–4–4)24) No tests on living things. (Even ants. Especially ants.)
OPSEC & Visibility
25) If watched, be ordinary.26) No big saves at home. (Neighbors remember.)27) Deny clean camera angles; cameras grow in pairs.28) Use the boring answer first. ("Good ears.")29) If asked, answer small—then ask back. (Buys time.)30) Never be the only witness to your own miracle. (Call someone. Make noise.)31) Share credit. Let adults finish the save.32) Noise before move. Break the stare.33) Borrow other people's eyes. (Alvarez.)
Environment & Tools
34) Listen to metal—bolts, hinges, brackets.35) If field meets machine, receive first—don't fight torque.36) Build small, test smaller. (Sunband v0.x ≠ fashion.)37) Build what helps the day. (Sunband, zipper, fries.)38) Fix the creaky hinge before Mom notices. (Small kindnesses > capes.)39) Leave the world how you found it. (Bins back. Doors shut. Evidence tidy.)
Boundaries
40) Don't try to fly. (Yet.)41) Don't chase the moon. (No night-flight experiments.)42) Roof = slow feet, three points of contact.43) Don't play tag with sky owls. (Ignore drones; wave like a kid.)
People
44) Point people, not problems. (Show where to go.)45) Make bravery contagious. (Bubble breaths for small kids.)46) When someone you love feels heavy, sit with them. (Quiet helps.)47) Friends' secrets are theirs. (Protect the quiet.)48) If you suspect a mask, don't guess in public. (Ask privately, or wait.)
Crisis Specific
49) If you smell sweet-wrong (rotten eggs) → back away → call 911.50) Yell the right word. ("Fire!" gets feet moving.)
Home & Dad
51) If the window is watching, let the wind be the only thing that moves.52) If Dad asks a specific question, answer a smaller specific truth.
Sanity & Joy
53) Midnight cocoa = three marshmallows. (Joy matters.)54) No ranked after midnight on school nights. (Brains > bragging rights.)55) Online: never flex weird reflexes. (Blend in; sandbag if needed.)56) If laughter feels real, keep it. (You're still a kid.)57) Don't coach from the fence unless asked.58) Progress = practice, not fireworks.59) Cone first. (Safe noise before move.)60) Borrow tomorrow by sleeping; don't steal it. (Rest on purpose.)
End of Chapter 25