CHAPTER TWO
School's Out

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THE MORNING OF THE LAST day of school, an Avengers memorial video played in place of the usual broadcast. Poorly edited (seriously, the transitions had to have been done on iMovie) with text in Comic Sans and Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You playing in the background, it ought to have been morbidly hilarious—and indeed, in any other situation, Cecelia would have laughed at the Royalty Free clouds in the background, the watermarked candles, and the PNG images that must have been found on Google. But the slideshow of Mr. Stark, Captain America, Black Widow and Vision instead served to lodge an uncomfortable pit into Cecelia's stomach.

Awful as it was, the other three Avengers that had lost their lives barely registered in Cecelia's mind. No, she was completely focused on Mr. Stark. Seeing him look so young and unmarred—even if those photos of him had been taken after Afghanistan—was such a contrast to his corpse that it made bile boil in her throat. She could still recall the singe of his charred flesh in her nostrils, the pained rasps leaving his lips, and the way the light had died out in his arc reactor with nauseating clarity.

For some reason, he'd chosen to do that. Anyone could have taken those Infinity Stones and snapped their fingers, and yet, he'd been the one to make the sacrifice. Even though he had a wife, a daughter, and a whole number of people who cared about him. Even though he had—

No, who was Cecelia kidding? She wouldn't make that list. She was never Mr. Stark's family. She was just an intern who probably got on Mr. Stark's nerves more than he let on.

(Even if Pepper claimed otherwise. Even if Morgan had said at the funeral that he'd told her about Cecelia and Peter. Even if Mr. Stark had seemed relieved beyond measure when Cecelia had returned. He'd just—he was just pitying her and her poor, tragic, villainous backstory. That was all it was.)

Cecelia wrapped her arms across her midsection, forcing herself to take a deep breath. This wasn't a Bad Day—most of the time she could tell they were occurring from the minute she woke up in the morning. She wasn't going to let it turn into a Bad Day. She had to get over this. She had to get over this.

And, come on. She should be celebrating. This was the last day of school. In a few days, she'd be off to Europe with Alex, Christine, Peter, and the rest of her classmates. It'd be her first time on the continent and her first time on an actual airplane (as opposed to Doctor Strange's far more convenient portals). And there'd be no missions to worry about. Her only objective on the trip was to have as much fun as possible.

The memorial video shrunk into the corner of the screen, revealing Betty and Jason. As usual, Betty's blonde hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and Jason wore a Midtown Tech hoodie. Just like everyone else that had Blipped, they hadn't aged a day. And their relationship—Jason with his obvious romantic feelings toward Betty and Betty's utter disdain toward him—hadn't changed, either.

Cecelia exhaled. Now that the slideshow wasn't taking up the whole screen—though flickering Getty Images candles still remained in the top right—the tightness in her chest ebbed a little. She reminded herself to employ her breathing strategies (four-seven-eight) as she continued to watch the newscast.

On-screen, Betty's face was solemn. "Gone, but not forgotten," she said.

Jason pointed to something to the left of the camera. "Thanks to Kenneth Lim and Vihaan Ramamurthy for their help with that touching video tribute." A picture of the two boys replaced the candles.

Betty began, "This year has been nothing short of—"

"Shit is crazy, man," Jason said. A bleep attempted to cut out the swear with little success. "It's, like, insane."

"Jason."

"What?"

"No swearing."

"Yeah, it's like the last day of school. We're good."

Betty rolled her eyes and returned her gaze back to the camera. "Historic," she finished. "Over five years ago, half of all life in the universe, including our own Midtown High, was wiped from existence."

Way to state the obvious, Betty, Cecelia thought. Though maybe she should cut her some slack. Perhaps this newscast was meant to be a recap of the entire school year, and this was the most logical way to start. Cecelia shook her head and began moving again, heading down to her locker while keeping an eye on the screens.

"But then, eight months ago, a band of brave heroes brought us back," Betty continued. An image of said heroes—all compiled together into a collage—appeared on-screen. "They called it 'the Blip'. Those of us who Blipped away came back the same age." This was demonstrated by two identical school pictures of Sue Lorman, a girl in Cecelia's Phys Ed class. One was dated five years ago, and the other was from this year. "But our classmates that didn't Blip had grown five years older."

To Cecelia's dismay, they decided the example to use for this half was Brad Davis. Like a goddamn Animorph, he shifted from a skinny, nerdy kid to a tall young man with an admittedly strong jaw. Cecelia scoffed.

Brad—who'd been born in 2007, by the way, making him technically two years younger than Eva—had been pestering Cecelia since she'd come back to school. Not in the way people used to pester her, either. No, Brad's motivations were a little more innocent than the people who used to knock her around and call her names. Instead, he seemed... to be harbouring a crush on her?

Cecelia might have actually been flattered by that if not for the fact that he was simultaneously doing the same thing to Christine and MJ. He'd already asked Christine out twice, and Cecelia got the feeling he was gearing up to do the same to MJ. So far, all Brad had done with Cecelia was spout lame pick-up lines and offer to carry her books like a jock in a movie, but his game was obvious. Besides, Cecelia wasn't attracted to him, anyway.

Fortunately, Brad soon disappeared as well. As Cecelia turned the corner, already spotting Christine and Alex (he'd come into school early for chess club, and Christine was just punctual by default) hanging by their lockers, Jason said, "Yeah, my little brother is now older than me."

"Yeah, it's math," said Betty. "And even though we had Blipped away halfway through the school year and had already taken midterms, the school made us start the whole year over from the beginning."

Oh, yeah. That had been a blast. Fortunately, the work had been easy—Cecelia barely had to put any thought behind it, having already learned it all before—but that didn't mean it had been fun. Especially when she'd discovered she'd actually done better on her pre-Thanos Spanish midterm.

"It's totally unfair," Jason said. "It's not right."

Betty sighed. "Tigers... it's been a long, dramatic, somewhat confusing road. As we draw this year to a close, it's time to move on—" Betty glanced at Jason, directing the last two words his way, "—to a new phase of our lives."

"And pray nothing crazy happens again because are the Avengers even, like, a thing anymore? Does anyone even have a plan?"

"Hey, Cee!"

Christine's cheerful—far too cheerful—voice pulled Cecelia's attention away from the screens. She hadn't even realized she'd already reached her locker.

"Hey, Chris." Cecelia spun her lock, inputting the code. "Hey, Alex."

"¡Buenos días, hermana!" said Alex, leaning right beside his sister. "It's the last day of school! We've finally made it!"

"Well, we do still have today," Christine pointed out. Her hair was loose and wavy today, cascading down her back. She wore a pink tank top and a black mini-skirt, with gold sandals adorning her feet. "But after that..."

"Freedom! Luxury! Europe!" Alex cheered.

"Thank Creator," Cecelia said. "It'll be nice for it to be socially acceptable to lie around all day again. That's my plan for this week. Order pizza, lie around, and finish the latest season of Squid Game. I mean, I also have that charity thing with Peter, but I think I can fit it into my schedule."

"Oh yeah, what the fuck? I forgot that you're going to that." Alex crossed his arms. "You have no idea how jealous I am. You're going to see Spider-Man and Phantom in person!"

Cecelia shifted slightly in place. Even after everything, she still hadn't revealed her identity to Christine and Alex—or anyone, for that matter. Peter kept saying that she should, but Cecelia had never found the words. And perhaps a little part of her—the part that sounded like Richard—was worried that they'd hate her for being a mutant.

(And maybe she wouldn't blame them for it.)

"Yeah," she said eventually. "I'm sorry I couldn't take either of you. I only got the ticket myself because I'm Peter's plus-one. And he only got it from his aunt."

Alex shrugged. "Eh. Whatever. I'm going to get my chance. I've already met Spider-Man, but I am determined to see Phantom one day. Hey, do you think putting myself in mortal danger would increase my odds?"

Christine sputtered. "What? No! Please don't let yourself get mugged just so Phantom can save you. That's—that's incredibly stupid!"

"Well, I wasn't thinking mugging. I was considering climbing to the top of a building and pretending I couldn't get down. It'd be just like Washington, but without the threat of becoming a pancake at the end!"

"You are such a fucking idiot," Cecelia muttered, closing her locker. Even so, she made a mental note to 'happen' upon her brother in costume one day. Just to shut him up.

Alex grinned.

The warning bell rang, signalling that they only had five minutes to get to class. Cecelia hiked the straps of her backpack further up her shoulders. She had Business and Spanish for her first two periods, which was about the worst way to start a day. But this was it. After today, she was done.

Thank Creator. At least, among all of her other struggles, she wouldn't have to worry about Señorita Abello calling on her in class anymore.

INSTEAD OF GOING TO the cafeteria for lunch, Cecelia took her wax-paper-wrapped sandwich (courtesy of Christine) to one of the spare classrooms. She was pretty sure it was meant to be used for ninth-grade English, but somehow, it had become the upperclassman hang-out spot. Peter had texted her that he'd be there if she wanted to swing by. For some reason, she'd been looking forward to it all day.

Indeed, Peter and Ned were already sitting at one of the tables when she entered, their heads bent together. When they noticed Cecelia, though, they quickly sprang apart.

Cecelia dropped into the seat beside them, trying to ignore the pang in her chest. "Hey."

"CeCe!" Peter greeted, shining bright as the goddamn sun. "How are you?"

"Incredibly relieved." Cecelia peeled open her sandwich and took a bite. "I don't think I could stand another day of this shit. I'm exhausted."

Ned nodded emphatically. "Me too. Is it just me, or did they make finals harder this year? Or is it because it's technically been five years since I've taken any?"

"I don't know, but it was horrible. Fuck, I was so scared to get my grades back. I was so sure I messed up on Spanish. Señorita Abello always adds trick questions to her exams. It's totally unfair."

"Yeah, but you ended up doing great, as usual," Peter said. "You always do. I mean, come on. You're, like, ranked second out of the whole school for grades. And you always study your ass off. If you failed an exam, I wouldn't want to see what everyone else got."

There it was again: that weird feeling in Cecelia's gut. It squirmed inside her like a parasite, making itself known, urging her to... what? Get closer to Peter? Move away? She couldn't tell. Her palms began to sweat.

"Thanks," she got out.

"What up, dorks?"

MJ, who'd been working on her college art portfolio, wandered over to their table. Cecelia gave her a slight smile in greeting. MJ had been her friend ever since she'd been crowned team captain of the AcaDec team. She didn't hang around Cecelia as much as Peter and Ned did, but she always said 'hey' in the hallways and sometimes sat with her at lunch. She'd also given Cecelia a hand-drawn card for her seventeenth birthday a few weeks ago (the front had a surprisingly accurate drawing of one of Cecelia's death glares), and Cecelia had loved it so much she'd gotten it framed. So Cecelia really did like MJ. But it seemed like most of the time she preferred to be alone, which was all right with Cecelia.

"Excited about the science trip?" MJ continued. She was talking about Europe. Cecelia had no idea how visiting various tourist attractions tied into their science learning, but she wasn't exactly complaining.

"Hey, yeah," Peter said. "We were just talking about the trip. I mean, right now we were talking about finals, but before that... the trip."

"Yeah, and Peter's plan," Ned said.

Cecelia blinked. "What plan?"

"You have a plan?" MJ asked.

Peter froze. The tips of his ears burned red. For some reason, he avoided looking at Cecelia. "I don't—I don't have a plan."

"He's—he's just gonna collect tiny spoons when we're travelling to other countries," said Ned.

MJ said, "Like a—like a grandmother?"

"Yeah, that's really lame," added Cecelia.

Peter flushed more. "I'm not collecting tiny spoons. He's collecting tiny spoons."

"Oh, okay, well... that was a real roller coaster," said MJ. "By the way, travel tip: you should probably download a VPN on your phone, just so the government can't track you while we're abroad."

"Smart." Peter nodded. He still wasn't looking at Cecelia. "Will do."

MJ nodded, then tucked her portfolio under her arm. Without additional comment, she took off. Cecelia turned back to Peter and Ned. The tightness in her chest had worsened.

"Please don't tell me you're actually collecting tiny spoons," she said. "I can think of, like, a thousand better ways to spend your money."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe it is a bad idea." Peter let out a nervous laugh. "But I mean, I wasn't even going to do it. Ned just said that. I don't know why."

"I don't know why I say half the stuff that comes out of my mouth," Ned agreed.

"Okay." Cecelia took another bite of her sandwich. So they were just talking about the trip. That made sense—it was coming soon. But something about the way they'd practically jumped apart when she'd entered and the panic on Peter's face when Ned had mentioned a plan was telling her that it was something else.

Well, it didn't matter. They could have their secrets. Cecelia sure as hell wasn't telling them everything about her own life—including, for example, the time she'd face-planted into a dumpster while testing out her prototype rocket boots. Plus, they were teenage boys. And teenage boys... well, they were a whole breed of their own. Given how disgusting she knew them to be (she had two teenaged brothers, after all), there was probably a lot Cecelia didn't want to know.

She finished her sandwich and thought nothing more of it. She didn't even entertain that bubble of doubt floating around in the back of her mind—that Peter and Ned were deliberately leaving her out of something important. Because that just had to be her anxiety speaking. It couldn't really be true.

Mentally, she held out a pin, its sharp tip gleaming. The bubble shied away, but Cecelia was faster. She popped the doubt before it could expand, before it could make a home inside her mind along with the other anxiety monsters.

And she continued on.

THE END OF SCHOOL was surprisingly anti-climactic. Unlike in elementary, there were still classes, which already managed to diminish the mood. There were no assemblies, no field trips, and no end-of-year prizes handed out to each student. Oh, sure, there was a yearbook signing—though that process only took Cecelia around five minutes—and the ritualized ecstasy of throwing out all of the papers that were no longer needed, but it still didn't really feel like anything. As Cecelia pushed through the front doors into the sunny May afternoon, a part of her still believed that she would return tomorrow.

Her friends, on the other hand...

"Rest in pieces, junior year!" Alex chirped, descending the front steps two at a time. "I shall not miss you!"

Christine linked arms with Cecelia. "This calls for a celebration! Y'all want to go get milkshakes?"

Alex beamed. "Oh, you know me so well. Cee, what do you think?"

Cecelia shrugged. "Maybe? Netflix is sounding kind of good right now."

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Shh. That was a rhetorical question. You're coming with us. We need to commemorate this occasion. We just finished our second-last year of high school! There's only one to go, now!"

"It sure took long enough," Cecelia muttered. Technically, they'd been held back five years.

"Exactly! But we've done it! Come on, Cee. Let's go give ourselves brain freezes. It'll be fun."

Cecelia sighed. There was no way she was getting out of this. "Sure. Fine. Whatever. Let's go get milkshakes."

"Okay!" By now, Christine was practically skipping. "So, there are a few places around here where we can go. What are you guys thinking?"

Well, there was one place that had immediately come to mind.

"How about Ray's?"

The suggestion slipped out before Cecelia could dredge it back down her throat. It hung in the air, quivering, for the briefest of moments, then seemed to hit Alex and Christine straight on. Cecelia could detect the moment they'd processed what she'd just said, because their faces fell. They exchanged one of those wordless looks, then turned back to Cecelia. Their eyes were nearly identical pits of concern.

"Um," Alex said. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Of course, both Alex and Christine knew about Cecelia's frequent trips to Ray's Diner. It had been something Alex was jealous of when he still had no idea what Richard was really doing to Cecelia. For him, it had been yet another thing Cecelia got to do with Richard that he wasn't involved in, and he'd often gotten into arguments with her over it. Of course, this had changed when he'd discovered Richard's true motivations. When that had happened, the diner had suddenly morphed into a place as unappealing as Jules's underwear drawer.

Christine had never had any attachment with the diner herself—though she had gone a few times with her parents—but hearing what had happened to Cecelia (or, at least, a modified version of events) had put her off it, too. Neither she nor Alex would have suggested it in a million years. But while Cecelia appreciated their concern, she wasn't going to turn into a puddle.

"Their milkshakes are really good," she said.

Her friends were unimpressed. "We don't want to see you hurt," said Christine. "And Ray's, well... it's probably got a lot of bad memories associated with it, right?"

"Actually, no." The sun peeked out from behind a cloud, getting directly into Cecelia's eyes. She held her hand up as a makeshift shield. "Richard would have never done anything really bad out in public. He saved that for when we were alone." Her friends paled at this, but she plowed on. "Plus, he usually took me there when he thought my work was decent. As a reward. So he'd never be in that bad of a mood."

"Okay..." Christine said slowly. "You do realize how fucked up that is, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I've been unpacking this shit with Dr. Patel for two years. But—look. Dr. Patel says it's good for me to override bad memories in certain places with good ones. Because they're just that: places. They're not inherently good or inherently bad; they're manipulated into one or the other based on the experiences that take place within them.

"Right now, Ray's is leaning toward more negative than positive. But if I start having good experiences there, then I can tip the scales a little bit. Even if it only becomes neutral in the end."

Her friends considered this take for a moment. "Damn," Alex said. "Dr. Patel knows her shit."

Christine ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Okay, your therapist might be right, but let's not go today, all right? We'll go after the Europe trip. And we'll go during lunch hours, when there won't be as many people. And if you happen to start feeling uncomfortable, we can leave right away."

Cecelia slumped her shoulders. Maybe they were right. Though finals were over, she was still riding on the stress like a particularly violent bull. It honestly wouldn't be surprising if she took one step into Ray's and immediately had a panic attack.

"Okay," she conceded. "Another time. But I really do need to introduce you to their milkshakes."

Both Alex and Christine visibly relaxed. "Great," said Christine. "Well, I have another idea. There's this ice cream shop only a few blocks away that's got shakes along with the usual cones. They've got a bunch of different flavours, too. Last time I was there, I got salted caramel."

"Oh, my God, I think you just described my Heaven," said Alex. "Let's go, let's go, let's go."

Cecelia said, "Sounds good."

"Perfect!" Christine clasped her hands together. Her nails were painted a stunning electric blue. "Let's go, then!"

The walk took twenty minutes, but Christine and Alex filled that time with chatter. It was all meaningless—Christine went on a three-minute-long rant about her old goldfish, for Creator's sake—and Cecelia could tell that was exactly the point of it. After what she'd just dumped onto them about Richard, she was sure her friends could tell that she needed a distraction. Playing their roles to the fullest, Christine was extra perky—she practically skipped down the sidewalk, much to the chagrin of her fellow New Yorkers—and Alex cracked ten times more jokes than usual.

Perhaps Cecelia should have been annoyed with this, but at this point, she was welcoming a brief mental break. Her mind had been so cluttered lately that even her dreams were claustrophobic. It was nice to focus on something else for a little while. And, plus, it was the advice Dr. Patel had given her after their session a week ago.

"...And if I could choose any superpower, I'd be a shapeshifter," Alex was saying. "I mean, I know it's, like, what every trans kid picks, but I don't want it just for the easy top surgery. Shapeshifting's just... limitless, you know? I mean, I could literally turn into anything I want. I could be a dragon! A fucking dragon! Come on, isn't that the coolest thing you've ever heard?"

"Dragons are pretty cool," Christine agreed.

"Exactly!"

"Hey," Cecelia said. "Is this the place?"

She gestured to the parlour coming up on their right. It was everything she'd expect from an ice cream shop, with a blue-and-white striped awning, large windows, and a chalkboard menu by the front doors. A mascot of a sweating snowman with sunglasses and an ice cream cone grinned down at them as they approached. Underneath it was the parlour's name—aptly, it was called The Melted Snowman.

Christine followed her gaze. "Oh, yeah! Jesus. It looks like everyone in Midtown had the same idea as us."

Indeed, the line to The Melted Snowman was so long it streamed through the doors and around the corner. Most of the patrons standing within it were students—Cecelia even saw Flash near the front. Yasmin and Zoha, Christine's friends who would also be attending the Europe trip, greeted the trio with a wave.

"It's like a goddamn concert," Alex said, shaking his head. "Is the ice cream really that good?"

Christine said, "The line speaks for itself."

He sighed and joined the queue. "I'm expecting perfection, Chris. Perfection."

"How perfect can a milkshake really be?" Cecelia asked. "Don't set yourself up for disappointment, Alex."

"And you don't set yourself up with bad expectations," Christine chided, jabbing her finger into Cecelia's chest. "You don't want to sour your shake before you even get it."

"Wow. Wise words. You should become a philosopher, Chris."

"You know I'd be a damn good one."

The line advanced as slow as the drizzle of molasses, but when Cecelia, Christine, and Alex finally exited The Melted Snowman with their milkshakes (vanilla, cookie dough, and birthday cake, respectively) and took their first sips, every second spent waiting proved to have been worth it. Alex actually let out a low groan of satisfaction. Cecelia closed her eyes in bliss.

Cecelia had to go home after to babysit Cora—Eva and Jules were both busy tonight—but as she attempted to feed her little sister spoonfuls of mushy peas, she couldn't help but smile, at least a little. It hadn't been a Good Day, but it had been a good one. She'd managed that.

And, goddamn it, Christine and Alex were right. She really was glad that school was over.

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HAVEN: wow, that's weird. this chapter was strangely tame. and kind of... wholesome??

don't worry, it's not going to last.

thanks for reading!!! :)))