TWO DAYS HAD GONE BY since Superhero Day, although the memory still lingered. Darren was afraid that seeing the fifty-year-old Mr. K dressed as the Hulk – painted all green and not wearing a shirt, but the teacher was missing the muscles characteristic of the Hulk and instead had lots of chest hair on display – would be something that he wouldn't be able to get off his mind for a long time. What he also didn't miss about Superhero Day was the never-ending discussion of whether Marvel or DC was better. To Darren, both of them were comic producers that dressed up male and female characters in tight clothes and gave them superpowers.

However, as much fun as Superhero Day had been and as nice it was to see everyone relax and dress up, Darren was reminded of how quickly the deadline for his application was approaching the next day. He had decided to spend every minute he could spare on it and hoped that would be enough to get the application to perfection in a week. So, when he had a free period that next Wednesday, he threw himself onto his application, so much so that he didn't notice a certain light-haired, pale-skinned girl in a bright yellow and blue denim outfit approaching.

"Hey, Darren."

His heart skipped a beat and he froze. The girl sat down on the table he was sitting at on the opposite side.

He took a breath of relief when he saw it was Dakota. "Can you ever not sneak up on people but greet them normally?" He sighed, but he calmed his heart knowing that it was Dakota. Of all people at this school besides Nova, he wouldn't mind being interrupted by Dakota during his free period. Apparently, she had some time to spare too.

"How do people greet each other usually?" she asked, but then she shrugged, as if she didn't want that question to be answered. "It's more fun to sneak up on people, anyway." She leaned forward on her elbows to get a look at what Darren was doing.

"It's only fun for you," Darren mumbled. He put his pen to paper again and his eyes searched for where he'd left off.

"What'cha doing?" Dakota asked.

He didn't look up. "Working on my application."

Her mouth formed an O-shape. "What is this, then?" she asked, without stopping to try to catch sight of the words on paper.

"The essay."

"Can I read it?"

He lifted his head and looked at her. She stared back at him with wide-open, curious eyes. "You wouldn't like it, anyway," he said.

She shrugged. "I don't like it when I have to read stuff that is all serious, but I just asked you if I could read it, didn't I?"

"It's not done yet."

She thought for a second as she glanced at the pages again. "It looks done."

"It's not," he said again. "I'm having word count issues, so I'm reading it back to see where I can cut back."

She frowned and laughed. "You have too many words?" she asked. "Whoa, that's a nonrelatable issue." She chuckled and moved from sitting on the table to a regular seat. "My word count is usually stuck at zero."

Darren turned back to his essay without responding, and he found the sentence where he'd left off. With a red pen, he marked the sentence to remind his future self that he could rewrite it in a way that had fewer words. He was only fifty words away from the upper limit of the word count, and he was certain that with a few revisions, he would get there.

"Do you need some help?" she asked. "I can proofread it."

He shook his head.

"I know I don't make the best essays," she continued, "but I have very clear opinions of what I like and don't like."

He smiled. "Really, I'm good," he said. He didn't want to mention that he was freaking out because he only had a week left and he still hadn't finished his essay. "Thanks for the offer though."

She stared at him for a few seconds, as if she wanted to know if he was serious about his answer, and when she couldn't detect any doubt, she shifted in her seat and changed the subject to what she had actually wanted to ask him when she'd sat down at his table. "Do you want to go somewhere after school today?"

He thought to himself that Dakota didn't understand the concept of silence that improved concentration for moments like these in which he needed as much concentration he could get – his life depended on this essay, after all – but didn't comment on it. Instead, he laughed. "I thought you said you couldn't plan things." The last time they had planned to go out together, she had bailed on him to be with her boyfriend. While they'd only planned it a few hours in advance, Darren had realized Dakota's life just couldn't be structured.

"I won't forget it this time," she said. "If you say yes now, I'll borrow your pen and write it down on my hand so I won't forget. No, on my forehead, so Dominic can remind me when he sees me. Or on Dominic's forehead, so I see it every time I see him."

He shook his head. "You don't have to vandalize Dominic's forehead," he said, although he laughed when he imagined the sight. "Liam's coming home today, and I want to be there."

Dakota's facial expression changed at the mention of Liam. "He is?" she asked. "Out of the hospital?"

He nodded.

"Finally," she said. "How long has he been there? Two weeks?"

"Three," Darren corrected. "Only now is he self-sufficient enough to be going home, but he'll still need lots of help."

"So, he can walk again?" she asked.

"No." He pressed his lips together. "He'll be in a wheelchair."

Her jaw dropped. "Liam in a wheelchair? I can't imagine what that must be like."

"Neither of us can," he said. Liam was much too energetic to be restricted by a wheelchair, but when Liam had told Darren about the wheelchair he'd get once he was discharged from the hospital, he only spoke with enthusiasm. He was looking forward to life outside of the hospital, and that he'd see the world from a wheelchair didn't matter to him if it meant he'd gain freedom.

"Will he be going to school, too?" Dakota asked Darren then.

He raised his shoulders. "I don't know," he said. "He hasn't said anything about it, and Ada is only talking about the fact that her son is coming home. When he's there, they'll think about the next step." He'd learnt that the family took one obstacle at a time. They simply had too much to worry about, and thinking about everything at once would take the best of them.

"Well, give him my best wishes, okay?" she said. "And if we can't go out today, maybe another day? Sometime soon?"

He smiled. "I'd like that."

✩

He sat down at the kitchen table with his application essay and his red pen, back to revise the words for a final time to get his word count down. It was the final step to complete his application; all the other things he'd finished by now and were ready for submission.

He didn't get any time to finish his essay that day though, because as he sat down, he heard a key in the front door lock, and soon after, the door opened. The murmur on the other side became louder and distinct.

"I can wheel myself in, Ma," a guy's voice said.

"I'm just tryin' to help," a voice Darren recognized as Adelaide said. "And I was saying we should work on this doorstep. I want you to be able to get in 'n out on your own."

"This's just temporary." Liam wheeled himself through the hallway. "You don't need to remodel the house for this wheelchair that's goin' away soon anyway."

Aimee came running down the hall. "You're here!" she said. With a few steps, she was at the door, and she wrapped her arms around her brother. Darren could barely see the display of love from where he was sitting, but his heart warmed up when he did. It was rare to see this between siblings, he knew.

"Your boobs are in my face," Liam groaned. He leaned back as far as he could to escape his sister, who, because she was bowing down to hug her brother, had indeed pressed her chest against his face in the process.

"I don't have boobs," she countered, and she held him for a few more seconds before letting go. "You're home," she said again with a satisfied smile on her face.

"How does it feel to be here?" Adelaide asked her son. She had her hand lain on his shoulder this entire time and squeezed it when she asked the question.

Liam was quiet for a second, looked left and right, and let his eyes explore the home he knew so well. He let a sigh escape his lips and smiled. "It feel good," he said.

Darren stood up from his seat in the kitchen and walked up to the trio. "Welcome home," he said, raising his arms as if to present the space to him.

Isaiah came out of a neighboring room. "Do I hear my son?" His eyes caught Liam the moment he'd walked through the door, and he opened up his arms to embrace his son. This time, Liam didn't complain about any boobs in his face.

"Hi, Pop," he said. "Good to be home."

Isaiah patted him on the back once he'd freed himself of the hug. "Good to have you here. It was about time." To Adelaide, he said, "I thought you'd call me when you came home."

"I was 'bout to," she said. "I wouldn't celebrate this party without you."

"It's not a party," Liam mumbled.

Aimee put her hands on her brother's shoulders and leaned on them. "To us, it is," she said cheerily.

Liam groaned in pain. "My ribs," he whimpered, and at the same time, he tried to free himself from the grip of his sister.

"Be gentle, Aim," Adelaide said. She put a hand on the back of her daughter and slowly pushed her towards the living room, and with her other hand, she directed Liam to the same place.

Liam dipped his chin. "I really don't want to celebrate," he said. "I'm tired."

"You're not gettin' out of this," Adelaide said. She had a mischievous smile.

"It won't be long," Isaiah reassured his son. "It's just dinner, and you need to eat anyway."

"We got you your favorite," Aimee said. She spun in a circle on her way to the kitchen, where she had displayed the ingredients she now presented with jazz hands. "Buffalo wings!"

"Extra spicy," Adelaide added with a smirk.

Liam couldn't suppress a smile now; he did like buffalo wings.

"It's been a while since I saw you smile, son," Isaiah said. He gave Liam a friendly pat on his shoulder, making sure to be gentle and not to make the same mistake as Aimee just had.

"We still have to cook it though," Adelaide said, talking about the buffalo wings.

"D'you need help?" Isaiah offered.

Aimee frowned, then laughed. "Dad, you don't cook."

In an attempt to be taken seriously, Isaiah tried not to laugh. "I wanna try!"

"Is it okay if Darren and I watch TV in the meanwhile?" Liam asked.

The mention of Darren's name brought attention to the Scottish exchange student. Because he hadn't expected it, his cheeks flushed.

"Yeah, of course," Adelaide said. "We'll take care of everything here."