My room was a dim sanctuary I refused to pull myself out of. The curtains remained drawn and the only light left turned on came from my desk lamp across the room. With recent events still fresh on my mind, I couldn't bear the stress and aggravation of tics jostling my brain.

   I sat on the carpet with my back to the wall. My bed was only a few steps away, but throughout the day I couldn't find the energy to get up or move. So, that's all I did for the longest time: sat in my room and just stayed there. I didn't hear a word from any of the other ghosts. Normally, that would worry me, but they knew better than to try and cheer me up.

    I didn't feel like cheering up. I had lost the most important person in my life, and for a while, I thought it was valid to just want to be down about it. I didn't think that was so much to ask for.

    Apparently, it was though.

    Late into the afternoon, I held my hands against the floor of my room after feeling the front door close. None of what's left of my family had any use for doors, so I couldn't see why I felt someone open it. I still couldn't pull myself to move, so I activated the basic level of my Quirk and carefully listened to who was downstairs.

    "We're really glad you all came!" Cleo's voice greeted.

    "Princess Halfwit, they can't hear us." If I didn't recognize the voice already, I knew only Jack would throw in that comment.

    "Don't worry," Edison's voice assured. "I got them here with young Mordecai's phone, and I left them a note on the front desk. Hopefully, they find it and help our boy out."

    I didn't want to think about what they had schemed together. Whatever it was, it would be over before I knew it, so there was no point in fighting what happened.

    But curiosity always got the better of me. I set my palms flat against the floor and concentrated on what I could feel. Growing up around spirits that never touch the ground, I found out that my senses were thoroughly conscious of vibrations caused by footsteps. Without the sounds of ghosts filling my head, it was easy to feel every tap and step against floors where I was used to silence.

    I felt several footsteps walk around the lobby. As they drew closer, I sensed a few come up the stairs. Even though the ghosts seemed to know who these visitors were, I was still tense to hear them come close to me.

    I slid my right hand to sit on the floor close to the door as I felt the feet stop there. Nothing moved for a second, so I glanced over to the door. As it opened, I was surprised to see my classmates. Double ducked his head inside until he saw me, and likely not aware I saw him as well, he ducked his head back out.

    I didn't feel obligated to greet them or anything like that. They invited themselves in after all. But they did wait patiently outside my door and gave me at least a few moments of peace. After that, they came inside one by one.

    The first to take his turn consulting me was Dani. He didn't say much when he first walked in, and just stood beside me. Soon though, he sat on my floor too.

    I looked up to see him look the same as ever. His dark violet hair was pushed to one side, and his tan skin was still covered by many wraps of white bandage. When talking, out of respect to me, Dani kept one hand on the wraps that usually covered his mouth and pulled them down for me to see.

    "How's it going," he started, looking stiff. Neither of us was very talkative, so I wasn't sure how he planned to carry a conversation.

    "Your, uhh. . .family? They texted us through your phone and told us to come over. You know, after you didn't show up to school today, we were all a little worried."

    It wasn't until midway through the day when I realized I forgot about school. It was the last thing on my mind, but my friends didn't seem to forget. Dani let the backpack over his shoulder go and dug around until he pulled out some folders and notebooks.

    "I brought you your stuff. Not sure if it's what you want to work on right now, but the project is still due tomorrow." He set my school books on the floor next to me, but the motivation to work was somehow more fleeting than my will to stand up.

    I didn't say anything to Dani, and he seemed fine with it. He still added one more thing before leaving the silence alone.

    "I saw some of your sketches for that kid's costume. They have a lot of potentials. Just know, if you ever want to go back to it, we'll be there to help out." As nice as it was of him to offer, I had already put all my efforts into my last attempt at a hero design. By then, I was certain there was no pleasing my partner, and I was ready to give up.

    Dani didn't say anything else. He waited for me to thank him or ask about the project, but he was let down when I faced my head to my knees and sulked alone. Later, I watched him stand up and head for the door. I thought it might be the end of this visit, but I soon saw another face peer through my door until walking inside.

    Snake was next to try and get me to open up. She sat down in front of me with her legs under herself and her hands folded. It was odd to see her so attentive as she usually was leaning over her desk or back in a chair. Although when she was there with me, she seemed more focused.

    "So someone left a note downstairs telling us what happened," Snake said. Her eyes veered down to the carpet beneath us while her head tilted to the side. "I'm sorry for your loss."

    I didn't need to hear that. There was no reason for her to be sorry for me. She never knew Marie, nor did she likely know that I had her as a mother figure for the longest time. I couldn't understand why Snake had any motivation to feel bad on my behalf, but regardless, she continued to talk me through it.

    "You know, as a Hindu, I don't really think of death as an ending of life. I like to think of it as the start of a new one." Curious as to what she meant by this, I looked up to see her stare down towards the rings along her fingers while she talked.

    "When my grandmother died, my siblings took it pretty hard. Although, my parents reminded them that her spirit was reborn into something new. Two weeks later, I was born, and my mom tells me I carry my grandmother's spirit. My brother has a theory that I was supposed to be her reincarnation, but the gods couldn't decide between her or a desert snake, so they went with both." Her fangs slid out through her smile as she quietly laughed, or hissed, to herself.

    "That's not the point though," she admitted. "What I mean to say is even if you can't see this person anymore, it might help you to look for signs of her rebirth around you. Something to think about."

    Taking Snake's advice, I did think about it. But as much as I respected her beliefs, I found no comfort in them. The whole purpose of spirits passing on is that they won't be tied down to the living world again, and it's exactly why Marie was so desperate to leave. She was gone for good, and I saw no sign of her in anything around this cold world. I had to accept that.

    After I didn't sign anything to Snake, she seemed to have given up her turn. She stood up from her spot on the floor and waved a hand to the door, signaling the next person to give it a shot.

    I grew used to this routine. One of my friends would come in and try to get me to talk and I would get distracted with everything upsetting me until they called it quits. I looked up to the door to catch Double walking in with his hands behind his back.

    My friend sat down next to me and showed me what he had brought.

    "Hey–Hey, Rocket. Look, I have your whiteboard. Dani said that you-you weren't talking, and I figured— I figured it was because we don't know a lot of-of sign, right? Well, here," he said and held out the blank board to me. I noticed a lot of hope in him when he brought my board with him, but there was just no strive in me to use it.

    Double's outstretched hand moved down when I didn't take my whiteboard back. I avoided looking at what he said, knowing it would only make me feel guilty for ditching class on them. I saw Double's hands in his lap as he twisted the red bandana around his knuckles and stumbled over words. When Dani mentioned he was worried about me, it made sense. Double had the habit of letting his anxiety-driven concerns spiral out. I regretted shutting down on him like that, but it wasn't like I had an easy time talking to others before everything around me fell apart.

    It wasn't long until Double stood up and gave me some space. He left my board next to me, on the floor, but I still couldn't find the motivation to use it.

    I remembered the time I first felt that motivation to communicate with people who couldn't hear my inner voice. I was twelve years old when I asked Marie and Edison to help me learn sign language. Before that, I usually had the ghosts go with me to public places and tell me what the living people were saying.

    I could picture the frustration I felt back then so clearly. Sign language was tough to learn, and there were so many times I wanted to let it go. However, Marie was always there at the end of every day to give me extra lessons. She pushed me like no one else, and it ended up paying off more than ever.

    After a minute or two of sitting in the memories, I opened my eyes to the feeling of more footsteps. I thought the individual therapy sessions were done with, but I was soon proven wrong when one last person stepped through my door.

    Her shoulders shrugged as she leaned against my door with her school bag in hand. "So. . Looks like the fourth time's a charm," Rose surmised.

   After everyone else failed to get me out of my room, I was a little surprised she could come in confidently and think her attempt would be different. It wasn't that I thought any less of her than the others, but we didn't exactly talk a whole lot. Plus, she didn't seem like the touchy-feely kind of person.

    That aside, Rose stepped inside and took a seat on the floor across from me like everyone else. She dropped her backpack next to her and waited until I said something first, a moment unlikely to come.

    We both waited in the still silence for a while. I was used to it, but I didn't think Rose was the same by the way she tugged on one of her long curls.

    "Yeah, they told me you weren't really in the mood to talk," Rose said, breaking our quiet streak.

    Oh, you think?

    Rose spoke again, "That's okay though. We don't have to talk. Sometimes I don't feel like talking. But if we're being honest, most of the time I don't know when to stop talking. . . Kind of how I'm doing it now." I didn't need to say anything for Rose to get the hint.

    She released the strained pink curl from around her hand, then she moved around until she was sitting next to me rather than across. I didn't think sitting closer would solve her problem of not knowing when to shut up, but what did I know?

    "Double said you didn't want to use your whiteboard earlier, and Dani said you didn't look at him. I know it might be a hassle for you to not be able to use sign language," Rose explained as she opened up her backpack. "So here."

    In her hands was a red laptop with a few stickers on the top that looked like they had been there a while. Rose opened it up to a blank memo document and started typing, putting the laptop in between us for me to see.

    "We can just type back and forth, so no talking is necessary," her typed message read.

    I stood corrected; I knew one way Rose would make her attempt different from the others. While all my other friends would give up when I didn't respond, Rose was stubborn. She was going to see it through until I showed some progress.

    Caving in, I typed back after indenting beneath her line.

    "Fine," was all I responded with.

    Rose seemed content with it as she started typing along the keyboard. When she was ready, she showed me the new line.

    "So the ghosts wrote us a note about how you lost one of your spirits. I know it must have been really rough to go through, and we're all sorry for that," her writing said. I felt the slight twinge of annoyance come back to me as she tried to apologize the same way Snake had. This time though, I chose to tell her what was wrong with it.

    "What do you have to be sorry for?" I typed back, indenting a new line after. I told Rose, "You didn't know her or have anything to do with why she left. I doubt any of you understand how it felt either, so what's there to be apologetic about?"

    Rose didn't type back right away, and it made me worry I was too blunt with her. That was the thing about talking to others I still struggled with, especially girls. But after a span of silence, Rose's hand moved over to tilt the laptop her way as she wrote.

    After she finished, it was as if she was hesitant to turn the screen back to face me. I didn't push her on it, but Rose eventually did slide the laptop back in between us with her new messages written.

    "If it's any consolation. . . I do know what you're going through," her first line said. Underneath it, a new one with more elaboration read, "I lost my best friend in middle school. I know how the rotting feeling of losing the most important person to you is just—" Her message ended there as if Rose couldn't find the word to describe the feeling we both went through. I read over her writing a few times, then I tried to look at Rose, but she kept her head faced down.

    Going back to the laptop, I finished her sentence with a word to tie to the rotting feeling inside us.

    "Shitty," I answered.

    Rose looked up to the screen and broke her sad stare to smile at what I had written. She began to type again, and she then let me see her message that said, "Ha, yeah. It's definitely shitty."

     We typed back and forth through this virtual doc for a while. Rose told me about her friend, and for the first time since I lost Marie, I felt understood.

    Rose's last message to me took longer to write out, but she soon leaned back from the laptop for me to read.

    "Look, I get how defeating it feels, but the ending of her life doesn't mean the ending of yours. I spent so long just being upset with myself and everything around me when I lost my friend that I didn't think I could go anywhere after it happened. Then, I remembered UA, and I remembered how I used to spend days just planning to go there.

    "Without her, it seemed pointless to try, but I knew she wouldn't want me to give up. And I don't think your ghost would want you to either.

    "Sorry about the essay, but I just thought I should tell you that."

    Rose didn't type back after that. I didn't think anything else needed to be said. She had a point, and as much as I wanted to just give up and stay in this one spot forever, I knew it wouldn't do Marie's memory any justice. I nodded my head to Rose and gave her her laptop back. When she got up to leave, I figured I should at least give her and all my other friends waiting outside a sign that I would be fine.

    I stood up after her and followed Rose out the door to see them. When I did, I saw Double restrain himself from jumping to immediately hug me, Snake clap to herself, and Dani look— well, Dani never did much to show his emotion, but deep down, I was sure he was happy.

    After seeing that I was making progress to feeling better, my friends granted me some space. I walked them out, and when Double asked if they would see me at school, I could give him my most assured answer: probably.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

    Rose told me that it wasn't right to hold yourself back after the loss of a loved one. She convinced me that someone like Marie, who has always pushed me to keep going, wouldn't have a peaceful passing if I couldn't let go of the grief. I had one night to give my class project a final attempt, and throughout it all, I imagined Marie's gentle voice telling me to work harder.

    Hours had passed since my visit from the best people in 1-H. I sat at my desk with at least four notebooks opened and facing me. There had to be something about Katsuki Bakugo that I was overlooking. Something useful I could incorporate into his costume.

    His school files rested in my hands as a read-over them in my head. "High rankings," "Good grades," "Short temper," were all listed as facts I was aware of. I kept digging further.

    There was a whole page in his files with details about his Quirk. His power was a close-range emitter that let him create explosions of various sizes. I knew this. However, I wasn't sure how it was done.

    Looking through the file, I found a summary of the biology of Explosion. As the statement put it, "Through either one of his palms, Katsuki creates fiery shock waves that are highly powerful and destructive, often burning and/or shattering whatever they hit, with Katsuki himself being immune to them, save for some recoil.

    "Explosion allows Katsuki to excrete nitroglycerin-like sweat from his palms and ignite it at will to create explosions of various sizes." There it was. That was all I needed to see before having a breakthrough.

    Nitroglycerin was commonly used in medicine to treat chest pains, but research has shown that it has a detonating effect like dynamite. If Bakugo could sweat this kind of chemical, then that means the more it's stored, the bigger attack he can generate.

   The best way to combine his Quirk into his attacks would be by storying the sweat into gauntlets of some sort. It wasn't long until I had a page in my notebook out, and I started drawing up the basic ideas.

    I knew what it was that I wanted the gauntlets to do: they just needed to store the nitroglycerin then have a trigger for Bakugo to release it through a barrel. The problem was I didn't have a lot of experience working with something this big. The Pyro-Kinetic Glove was nothing more than an exoskeleton with potential, but if I wanted to sell this to my difficult partner, then I had to go all the way. And there was one person I knew to ask for help.

    I hadn't talked to Rose since she left my house hours ago. It was now well past midnight, so I wasn't sure if she would answer right away. Regardless, I texted her, asking if she was free to help me pull an all-nighter.

    A minute later, I felt my phone buzz with a notification. Rose texted back that she would be on her way, and I grew eager to start. The planning of this project was soon complete. It was a miracle what sudden inspiration could do.

    Later that night, I heard the ghosts call for me downstairs. I followed their voices to the front door where I assumed Rose was waiting. After letting her in, I led the way with my notes and blueprints in hand to the basement to start.

    For someone working at one in the morning and running solely on a couple of energy drinks, Rose was fast when inventing. Accurate to how she bragged, she had a talent for designing and building weapons. After I pitched her my idea of gauntlets in the shape of grenades, it didn't take her an hour to be near completion.

    I couldn't thank her enough, but we both knew there was a time crunch on us. I fabricated together a pair of combat boots with the materials brought in my house either by Rose or myself from earlier. Our costume was coming together, with the absence of an outfit, which might be important.

    All of my ideas had the same problem as my first. I was playing it too safe. I wasn't a theatrical guy, so it wasn't a surprise I could only think of simple and safe choices. Even Rose didn't prove herself to be a flashy costumer. A lot of her thoughts were practical and best suited for combat. While I appreciated her input, I knew Bakugo wouldn't get the idea.

    I grabbed my notebook and wrote down a note before turning it for Rose to see.

    "We might need more help," I suggested. I knew she wasn't one to ask for assistance, but neither of us had anything left.

    "I'm on it," Rose agreed. She reached into the pocket of her sweat pants until her phone was in hand. She dialed a number, and soon, she was on the phone with some backup help.

    "Hey, Dani? Oh, thank God you're awake. It's Rose," she said into her phone. I couldn't hear what the other person on the line said, so most of the conversation had to be inferred from Rose's replies.

    "Tallulah Rose— you know who I am!" She rolled her eyes before rubbing the bridge of her nose while listening to an exhausted Dani. "Yes, I realize it's 2 AM. I know but— look, it's a fashion emergency." My friend went silent while waiting for an answer, and I found myself nervous to know if Dani would lend us a hand or not.

    "Yes! Thank you," Rose cheered. "Rocket and I are trying to finish this costume for that Explosion kid in 1-A. It's late, so I won't make you take the train over here, but if you have any ideas. . . Great! Send me a few pics, 'kay?" Rose nodded and continued the conversation while opening up the instant messages on her phone. Soon, she was able to show me a quick sketch of a Hero outfit Dani threw together.

    As dull as Dani could be in conversations, I had to admit he had an insane talent for costumes. From the color palette to the useful add-ons, it was no wonder Dani made it into the best Support class on recommendation. Rose stayed on the line with him as she tried to replicate the picture onto a bigger canvas for us, and add her gadget ideas. Pretty soon, the two ended their call, and we had a plan for a costume.

    I may have pricked my fingers on sewing needles countless times; I had to put up with Rose's cracky impatience when using her height to measure the pants; I nearly burned my house down, tampering with the fireproof armor. All of that considered, when the third and final attempt at my project was completed at 4:39 AM, I was genuinely proud of my work.

    The finished outfit for Bakugo was neatly folded in a spare box I could carry to school the next morning— or, better put, in three and a half hours. I lightly pushed myself away from the lab table in my rolling chair and looked over to see how Rose was doing.

    She was also leaned over the table but with her arms rested across and her elbow propping her head up. While I was being kept awake by my tics twitching my eyes open, Rose was passed out in seconds. I felt bad for waking her, but I grabbed a pencil and poked her arm. In an instant, Rose jumped awake and shook her head to keep herself in that state.

    Not feeling the energy to write, I reached for my phone to quickly type up something for Rose. Despite it being well into the evening, I was used to the drained feeling. I couldn't ever have caffeine because of my Tourette's, and as I mentioned, my tics would occasionally push me to stay up when my mind was working. Rose, on the other robotic hand, wasn't used to the lack of sleep.

    As soon as I was finished writing and turned down the brightness of the screen, I flipped my phone to her with the message. It read, "Are you sure you can get home okay? It's late, and you're welcome to crash here if you need to." I felt bad for keeping her out for so long, and it wasn't as if the house didn't have room to spare.

    Rose rubbed her eyes before reading the screen, and I watched her politely turn her head down to decline.

    "No, man, it's alright. Sleeping over in a funeral home with a zillion ghosts isn't something I'm quite ready for just yet," she explained. My guess was she'd laugh at her joke if she wasn't on the edge of falling asleep again.

    I cleared the screen before typing back, "Suit yourself. Thanks again for all the help." I figured I owed her more than that, but it was something I pushed off until after the project would be turned in.

    Rose nodded and stood up, nudging a hand against my shoulder. "I'm happy to help a buddy out. That costume is gonna kill it, I promise." I'd hold her to it too.

    I walked Rose out after she insisted she was alright to get home on her own. Although, I still asked Cleo and Jack to follow and make sure she didn't fall asleep on the train.

    When I made it back to my room, I didn't bother changing or even climbing under my bedsheets before I fell asleep in record time.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

    Three hours later and the bright morning sun reminded me it was time to haul ass for my big day. My day to present my project was there, and I felt the spirit of someone strong pushing me to go for it and not hold back. I wasn't just doing this for me, or my designated Hero, or the friends I had grown close to, but I was reminded that this was also for Marie, to prove she did well raising me.

    After packing my things, I headed downstairs to meet the ghosts. They were happy to see me go back to school. Their proud faces told me I had grown up. I didn't quite believe them, but it was nice to hear the encouragement. I thanked them for all their help and support as I headed out the door and onward to UA.

    There was just one last obstacle before turning in my project: convincing Katsuki Bakugo to accept it.

    It's strange. When I first met him, I thought Bakugo was an obnoxious and arrogant jerk, but I realized there were few qualities I admired about him. He didn't settle for anything he didn't like, and I respected that.

    And when I stopped him outside the gates of UA before class, that's exactly what I told him.

    Through writing, I also told him I didn't give up either. I said I would do whatever it took to build him the best damn Hero costume there was. Whether it be in a fourth try or fourteenth try, I would get it right and keep going.

    I remember holding my breath when waiting for his response. I was certain he would tell me to get lost or bother someone else, but what he instead did was ask to see what I had made for him.

    I gave him the Hero suit, and after he witnessed the work put into it, I was astounded to see him agree to try it on and take pictures for the assignment.

    Then, we spent the first hour or so of homeroom trying to take a decent picture of a kid I could only describe as feral. Bakugo sported the tight-fitting tank top and baggy pants well, and I thankfully caught it all on camera before he stormed off for class training.

    To make it back to my class without missing the whole period, I had to run. Not my strong suit, but I managed. When I got back to Professor Q's class, one student had just finished his presentation on his costume and was walking back to his seat.

    I was lucky not to have interrupted someone else, and I made it just in time for the last few presentations. After silently acknowledging my classmates when I barged in, and Q let my tardy arrival go, I hurried back to my seat.

    When I got there, I found my desk cleared off of all but a small note torn from the corner of notebook paper.

    "Everything okay?" It read. I looked over to see Double tilt his head in the direction of the note. It was rare for me to be able to answer that question honestly, with the week I had been through, but this was the exception. I gave Double a thumb up and meant it.

    Later, my classmates presented their projects. Rose, Dani, Double, and Snake had, of course, gone all out and nailed their designs. In all of their pictures, their assigned partners looked happy with what they had on. They really did impress us all with their talents.

    But contrary to their presentations, the next costume to be showcased was not one I looked forward to. Siri Remata had lifted herself from her desk and marched up to the front of the room.

    She set up her laptop and her notes to the projector on Q's desk that displayed everything against the screen pulled over the blackboard.

    "As most of you know, I was at a disadvantage with my Hero student," Siri began. "Someone with an invisible Quirk can't be noticed by sleek designs and creative gadgets. However, I wasn't in this to lose. So, I give you the main feature of my invention: transparent, infrared goggles." She clicked next on her slide as a picture of bulky, silver goggles displayed for us all to see.

    "I noticed Toru Hagakure had trouble keeping eye contact and focusing on objects at far distances. Like a lot of us, she's nearsighted, with very poor vision. Although, she doesn't wear glasses because there isn't a prescription for someone whose eyes can't absorb or reflect light.

    "The goggles you see above give Hagakure the ability to see her targets by taking in the light when unused and store it like a battery. Their camouflage feature, programmed by me with ease, renders the outside of the goggles as invisible as their wearer." Siri didn't have to go on much longer until I grew nervous. I and many others were amazed she managed to come up with a gadget and design for such a challenging Quirk. As annoying and cruel as she was, it killed me to admit Siri Remata was a hell of an inventor.

     She soon concluded her presentation followed by a handful of kids applauding her. We were towards the end of class, which meant there was only one name yet to be called. And as anxious as I was to present, I did not waste a week of my life killing myself over this to chicken out.

    I sauntered up to the front without as much confidence as Siri but more than enough will. Opening my own computer, I plugged it into Q's projector until my class could see the blank word document on the board.

    Here goes nothing.

    I began to type in the doc and walk my classmates through my presentation.

    "Like a lot of you, I did not have an easy time working with my designated main character." I was hesitant to type, knowing how badly it made me stick out. But when I looked up, I saw a few smirks and smiles about my opening line, and that was enough to ease my fears.

   "My partner liked things a certain way, and it took me a while to understand his philosophy, but I get it. Heros have to be practical, sure, but they also use their costumes as a way to define their presence. Here you'll see my final take on the future Explosion Hero, Bakugo." With my next click, I uploaded a couple of pictures from my phone where my partner displayed his new costume.

    "The black tank top builds for better movement and airflow for a hero with a powerful Quirk, and the orange 'X' forming a V-neck across his chest makes him easily spotted as an opponent to be cautious of. Both the silver neck-brace and belt of hand bombs are courtesy of a very creative designer with a knack for thrilling gadgets. Then, there's the knee-high combat boots and the jagged, black eye-mask with a blasting flame that comes from the mind of a brilliant designer." I turned my head up to look at my class, mainly Rose and Dani in the back rows. They each gave me their own thank-you gestures as I continued.

    "Lastly, there's my main focus: a pair of grenade-like gauntlets that are designed specifically for his Quirk and his personality. These, along with the entire costume, are fire-resistant and durable enough to last this Hero through any climate. From the ends of his sleeves to the soles of his shoes, every detail is built targeting only him, making this the best Hero costume he could have."

    I closed my laptop and watched as the kids on the desks ahead put their hands together. My tics flinched my eyes slightly until I realized the silent pounding of their hands were enthusiastic claps. They were applauding me— and not with humorless sarcasm.

   I was on a brief wave of euphoria, but I still wasn't comfortable showing it. Their claps continued while I fleeted to my desk and ignored the attention. I was happy to see Q step up to his desk and quiet everyone down.

    "Settle yourselves, young geniuses. You all made great efforts today, and we have just enough time to vote on your favorite. So, would everyone kindly open up your emails where you will discover a poll to vote on? I'll display the results as they go up here, and as you youngsters have decided, the student with the most votes will be named class representative."

    I couldn't break the tight knot in my stomach. I opened my email as per Q's instructions, and I voted for Double's costume for its simple yet fitting design and perfectly matched gadgets. Afterward, I couldn't bring myself to watch the projection of votes displayed as a pie chart. With most of the class voting quickly, pieces of the chart in several colors began to change at a rapid pace. But, as some kids took their time voting, it got painful to sit in the suspense. I covered my eyes as the tab below told us 14 out of 20 students have voted.

    My tics began to push at my brain while I waited for the results. It wasn't like I needed to win or was asking to. All I wanted from this was to prove myself as an inventor to not only Remata but most of the class as well. Plus, a good grade wouldn't be bad.

    But as I felt a tap on my shoulder that came from Double's side of the table, I looked up to find more than I ever could have asked for that day.

    The pie chart was all scattered around. It almost looked completely even, with two exceptions. A blue slice took up 40 percent of the space, but next to it, there was an indigo piece that held 49 percent of the votes. I strained my eyes when darting my stare over to the list of names that informed us who went with what slice. I was relieved to see Siri only got second place, but my mind and breath stopped when I read the name above hers.

    "Mordecai Rockefeller: 49.2%."

    The disbelief was enough to force me to read over that chart at least a hundred times. Even then I still didn't think it was accurate. I couldn't believe what I saw until I felt Double grab my shoulder again, but with much more excitement than before.

    "Congrats, buddy!" I think he said. To be honest, I was too shocked to really pay attention. My eyes stayed glued to the screen until it set in.

    I had the best design. . .

    and I was class representative.

    It didn't take one second before I was knocked out of my celebration side-hug from Double by a hand slamming on my desk. Like always, there was a blue-haired bully ready to ruin my good mood.

    "I don't know how you did it, Walking Dead, but I promise you this isn't over," Remata threatened. Her eyes were as cold as ever, but I wasn't phased in the slightest. I knew she was dead serious, and yet, I couldn't care less.

    She met me and made this bet with the idea that I had no clue what I was doing. People like her see quiet kids such as myself and think there's no way we can steal the show. Little did they know I had a story of my own, talents I knew how to perfect, and more than enough determination for myself.

    I at first didn't think I could survive one day at this school, but thanks to the help of some phenomenal people, I ended up doing better than expected. My first two weeks at UA High were over with.

    And I made them rock.