ON FRIDAY DURING LUNCH, I stood in front of a mirror in the boy's bathroom. This morning, I had asked Mom if she could use some of her makeup to cover up the bruise on my neck, and although it had worked throughout the morning, the makeup was starting to rub off. I rubbed my fingers on the bruise; it was small, on the lower end of my neck, and mostly covered up by the collar of my shirt, but I still didn't want people asking any questions, so I pulled up the collar a little higher.

"I'm just surprised you're not banned from the dance," Ben said, washing his hands next to me.

"Me too," I replied. I had detention today, as expected, but I hadn't been banned from the dance. I guessed it was because I'd helped set it up, and because, before now, I had never skipped school or done anything wrong.

Ben set his backpack down on the ground, and I heard the sound of metal jostling around. Then he abruptly took out a spray paint can and aimed it at the mirror.

I grabbed it from him, and when he tried to take it from me, I backed up a step and held it close to me. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting detention," he said simply, and he grabbed another can from his backpack.

I took that can, too, and his backpack. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to be alone, and besides, it's not like I have anything better to do after school."

He made another grab for the cans, and I twisted away from him. "You have Boston to deal with!" I exclaimed. "You can't get detention now!"

Ben paused, his arms in mid-air, and he let them drop. "The Academic Convention will happen again next year."

I shoved the cans into his backpack and zipped it up. "Thank you for the sentiment," I said, holding it out to him, "but I don't want you to get in trouble right now."

He stared at me for a few seconds, but I made it clear that I meant what I said, so he sighed and put his backpack back on. Just as we were about to leave, a toilet flushed, and Kevin came out of a stall and turned on a faucet.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," he said, glancing at Ben's backpack.

I laughed. He must have been in there for at least five minutes, waiting for us to leave so that he wouldn't look like he was eavesdropping. "No problem Kevin," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, would you happen to have any cookies?"

☆

I had only one word to describe detention: boring. Mind-numbing boring. Even worse than math in the morning, and that was saying a lot.

I wasn't allowed to do anything: no homework, no reading, no doodling. I just put my head down on the desk and turned to the side, one half of my face against the cold desk. I figured that I would alternate the sides of my faces so I could have a different view every once in a while. (That's how bored I was.)

Besides me, there were only two other people in detention. There was Robert Milligan, who was known for damaging school property and for talking back to teachers, and then there was Daisy Meadows. I know what you're thinking: what can a girl named Daisy Meadows possibly do to land herself in detention? Well, names can be deceiving: Daisy was one of the meanest people I'd ever met. While Dana had a personal hatred for me and left most other people alone, Daisy was a bully to everyone, and that made her less likeable than Dana.

Right now, Robert was dozing off, and Daisy was staring at the whiteboard so angrily that I expected her eyeballs to shoot lasers. She noticed me watching her, and I quickly turned my head to the other side.

I heard her shifting in her seat, and I shut my eyes tight. Please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please—

"Where'd you sneak off too, Maguire?"

I knew it would in my best interest to reply to her, so I slowly lifted my head off the desk and faced her. "Just wanted out," I said, shrugging, hoping that the simple answer would be enough to satisfy her.

Daisy smiled, and I had a clear view of her canine teeth. Jeez. They were really pointy, like she filed them to sharpness to intimidate people. Her smile fell away to a scowl, and she turned her head. "Robert!" she snapped. "Stop snoring."

"Be quiet," urged the proctor. The teacher watching us for detention was a man I'd never had before. Mr. Hawthorne, I think. He wasn't the strictest enforcer of the detention rules, but I could see that he was getting tired of Daisy's banter.

I mumbled an apology, and Daisy only scowled and turned her attention to the whiteboard again.

When detention was over (almost an hour later), I took a leisurely walk home. The teachers had given us close to no homework, so that we could all enjoy the dance and the weekend, and so the academic team would have nothing to worry about while they're in Boston. They leave tomorrow morning, so they can attend the dance. I looked down at my watch; all I had to do was get ready, go to Fei's house, and her dad would drive us to school. I had more than enough time to get ready.

When I got home, I said a quick hello to Mom, who had come home early from the bakery to drive me to Fei's, and I headed for my room. I put my backpack in its usual position next to the foot of my bed, and I took my suit out of my closet. This thing has been hanging there for months; the last time I wore it was at Ayomikun's sweet sixteen.

I draped my suit jacket on the back of my chair and sat down on my bed, glancing at the clock that was hanging above my wall. Great. I'd dressed too early. I hung my tie loosely around my neck and puffed out my cheeks as I exhaled.

In truth, the lack of superhero duties was not as life-changing as I'd expected it to be, even if it had only been a day since I gave up my title. I felt normal again, and I wasn't sad. I wasn't happy, either; I still felt like I'd lost a great part of myself, but I was feeling optimistic. If Ms. Henderson didn't think I should do it, then fine. I won't. I had plenty of other things to do.

Just not right now.

Already sick with boredom, I flopped back onto my bed, my feet still on the floor and my knees bending over the edge. I felt like a dramatic Disney princess, except instead of throwing myself onto the nearest piece of furniture, I was lying on my back.

I stared at my ceiling. When I was young, I had tacked glow-in-the-dark stars onto the wall, but I took them off three years ago. I found myself wishing they were still there, so I could count them. I was truly bored.

I mean, it's the twenty-first century. I have tons of forms of entertainment: I could watch TV, play on my phone, scroll through Instagram, or listen to music. But, somehow, none of those options appealed to me right now. I just wanted to stare at my ceiling with my mind completely blank.

I was lying to myself. My mind wasn't blank. Not even close.

I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to look under my bed at the gear I had stashed in the box. I knew that if I even so much as glanced at the stuff, I would be tempted to take it out, to start really thinking about Red Soldier again.

I sat up slowly, my tie falling off onto my bed. I glanced at my desk; the computer cuff was sitting there, along with the program flash drive. I had taken the cuff out of the suit before I stashed everything else away, and I must have left it sitting on my desk. It was so simple and unassuming that I really could mistake it for a bracelet.

I leaned over and picked it up gently, placing it on my palm and staring down at it.

"Peter, are you ready?" Mom asked from the kitchen. "Let's go."

I don't know why, but I rolled up my sleeve and put on the cuff. I grabbed my tie, my suit jacket, and, after a moment of hesitation, I grabbed the flash drive and stuck it in my pocket, and I followed Mom out the door.

☆

Fei's house was a ten minute drive away. I didn't know what we were going to be doing, maybe some pictures and small talk before her dad drove us to the dance. I wouldn't put it past them to cram in some studying for tomorrow, too.

"Do you need me to pick you up from school?" Mom asked, leaning over to fix my tie.

I swatted her hands away, determined to fix it myself. "Mrs. Ramirez is driving me home."

"Alright," she said. "I'll be at the bakery. Call if you need me." She planted a kiss on my cheek. "Have fun."

"Bye," I said, and I opened the car door and stepped out. Thankfully, the weather was nice today. Not too hot, not too cold. No rain, but no excessive sunshine, either. Not that it would matter; the dance was from eight to ten, and night was arriving soon. We'd be spending thirty minutes, tops, at Fei's house.

Fei's eccentric little brother answered the door with a large, beaming smile. Most of her family was out; only she, her little brother, and her dad were left home for the pre-dance gathering. Kevin, Ben, and Ayomikun were already here. I stared at Kevin's rather perfectly tied tie, and I looked down at mine. I really should have let Mom fix it.

Thankfully, Kevin was a good-natured soul and fixed mine within two seconds. The art of tying ties was something I'd given five minutes to—thanks, Youtube—but that was for Ayomikun's sweet sixteen a few months ago, and the skill had vanished as quickly as I had learned it.

We all handed our phones to Fei's dad and to her little brother, and the five of us struck poses as they took pictures. The sky slowly darkened, and we took about a hundred photos before Bo, the brother, got tired of us and sat down on the couch with his Nintendo.

Seeing the Nintendo reminded me of everything I was supposed to forget, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet just to make noise, and I blankly ran my hands through the stream, staring at myself in the mirror. The bruise was covered, but I knew it was there.

I swallowed and placed my hands on the sides of the sink, my eyes wandering to my arm. I wouldn't admit it to myself before, but I brought the cuff with me to say goodbye. One last time wearing it, and soon I would send all the stuff off to Jenny.

I had never planned on turning it on, but I felt the sudden need to. The tracker was still on the metal thing. I'd thought about it before, but the chance that it would show up on the computer was slim, wasn't it? Why would Remote Man take that chance? The metal demon was probably submerged, undetectable by Henderson's technology.

Even with all of the doubt clouding my thoughts, I rolled up my sleeve and turned on the computer. The holographic map, showed up, hovering in the air.

And there was a red dot.

I bit my tongue to keep from gasping. The red dot was active, and on the move. It was sticking close to the roads, and if it was flying, the news would have noticed. Somebody would certainly pay attention to that thing if it were in the air, and because neither of my internet-savvy friends were currently speaking up about it, then it wasn't in the air. It had to be in a vehicle. Which meant it was being transported. Sold, possibly.

I turned off the computer, covered it up, and got out of the bathroom. I felt like I was in a daze as I watched my friends laugh with each other, and all I could think about was my bruise. How many people would get hurt because of the stolen tech? How long would it be until someone died?

If I had even the slightest chance to stop this, shouldn't I take it?

I pulled Ben aside. He noticed the stress on my face and pulled us even further away from the others. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I have to go," I said in a low voice. "Answer if I call you." I took the flash drive out of my pocket it and shoved it in his hand. I don't know why I brought that, either, I just felt like I had to. Now I was glad I did.

His eyes widened when he realized that I was about to do some superhero-thing I was currently banned from, but he nodded.

"Thank you," I said, and before anyone could ask what was wrong, I was out the door.

I started running toward home as fast as I could. There were very few people on the street, but all of them gave confused glances to the boy who was wearing a suit and running down the sidewalk like there was a wild animal chasing him. This could be a girl-running-from-peacock type of meme: suit boy running from whatever you wished to label the empty space behind him, perhaps 'responsibility' or 'social life'.

Heh. Peter Maguire: sort-of-superhero running to his damaged costume and thinking about becoming a meme.

I took the stairs up three at a time, scrambling to get into my apartment. I locked the door behind me and went straight to my room, getting down on my knees and sliding the box out from underneath my bed. I opened it.

Yes, some of my stuff was damaged, but it would have to do. I took out my jacket and turned it over to inspect the cuts, only to realize that something was seriously wrong.

The lines that the metal demon had torn into my jacket were stitched closed. I traced my finger along one of the lines; the stitching wasn't done expertly, but it was enough to hold the tears in the jacket together. But who had done this?

Someone coughed behind me, and I slowly turned my head to see Mom standing in my doorway.