"I have you to thank for the dark circles under my eyes," I told Theo the next day on the way to class.

When he turned to face me, he didn't exactly look so bright and cheery himself.

"You know, I have to say...they really suit you," he replied without a change in his demeanor.

I stepped in front of him and swiped my id card with more force than necessary. I stepped in so quickly that the door hardly had enough time to slide away. The room beyond was completely empty—which was no surprise since I was almost two hours early.

The large lecture hall was the size of a ballroom. It was lined in stiff sheets of metal shooting up over thirty feet to the glass ceiling, shrouding the entire room in an elegant light. The rows of long, connected desks wrapped around the front platform that had the ability to rise or fall, shift and change, illuminate or darken in a half circle. Each chair hovered in place, locked until its user swiped their id card.

But none of it interested me. I was too tired to even project something on the stage floor. Not even a meme to scare the teachers' pants off.

I hadn't slept very well last night. I think I had burned a few hundred calories just tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable, painless position. And it was all Theo The Jerk's fault.

At around four in the morning, I had completely given up on sleep. That jumpstart to my day had given me an extra three hours to get ready when I only needed three and a half minutes. So, therefore, here I was, coming to class at the same time as the class president. What did he even do for two hours?

"At least I have an excuse for looking terrible," I said, throwing my backpack next to my seat, lazily swiping my id, and plopping down. It took all my energy not to scream at the pain—I had forgotten about that especially nasty bruise on my behind. "What about you? Why do you look like you died and never revived?"

"I was studying all night," he answered, falling into his own seat beside me (I know, it's terrible). "We have a test today."

"I thought that was next week."

"That's the Rómi test. This is the Dýnami test."

I swept my hair out of my face and turned to him, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Why do all our tests have names anyway?"

"They give everything we do meaning. Dýnami is greek for virtue, might, potency. While rómi is greek for vigor, sturdiness, superiority. Both demonstrate the core and reason for each test."

"It just sounds dumb to me," I replied, folding my arms and throwing my legs onto my desk. My legs brushed against the white surface and activated it.

"Welcome back to class, Miss Adair," an automated voice greeted. "We are very sorry you could not make it yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah. So very sorry." I turned to Theo. "Since when do we have yet another robot spying on us?"

"They installed it yesterday. It's a helper, tutor, and companion all in one. One of the board members helped develop the technology. Each knows all about its user so that it can better improve itself and others."

Creepy. "Will it at least get me food if I ask it to?" I questioned.

"No, of course not. It's your friend, not your servant."

"Useless," I murmured.

"I apologize," my robot desk said. "Please tell me how to improve myself."

Instead of replying, I removed my legs from my desk and swiped the screen off.

Half an hour later, I was bored out of my mind. I had already counted all the flies, asked my robot desk (its name was apparently Mai) every random question I could think of, tried and failed to get Mai to tell me a joke, and watched the same bird run into the glass ceiling ten times within the span of five minutes.

I looked over at Theo and saw that he was reading a Shakespeare book. No surprise there. I had my own book in my bag, but it was a book Wren had lent me. I wasn't overly enthusiastic about the 1800-style writing, the type of book Wren enjoyed fawning over in her silent, expressionless way.

Theo was fully immersed in his book so I quickly set up a wall between our desks and leaned forward to whisper to Mai. "Look up, 'Desdemona'."

"Searching for 'Desdemona'," Mai stated. "There are several answers to your request." A hologram of a woman along with an article beside it appeared in front of me. "Desdemona, Othello. See full article?"

I swiped over it and it disappeared into pixels. It was quickly replaced with more articles about the Desdemona woman. But when I added 'meaning' to the search, something even more interesting popped up. "Desdemona. Name meaning, origin, and popularity. See full article?"

"Yes," I returned.

"Speech?"

"No."

My eyes skimmed quickly over the page, my mind absorbing the knowledge in seconds.

First Desdemona enraged her father by eloping with Othello, who turned around at the end of the book and falsely accused her of adultery. Because she wouldn't confess to the sin she didn't commit, her husband murdered her. And apparently, the murder weapon was a pillow.

The actual meaning of the name 'Desdemona' came from its greek origin. It meant misery, ill-fated one, wretchedness. Sounded like the perfect name for someone who was murdered because of her husband's unfounded jealousy.

"Look up, 'Eagle's Wing'," I told Mai.

Pictures flooded my vision, flashing my father's face and multiple awards he had won. The speed made my head spin and I quickly swiped my hand over it, slowing the time rate and allowing my brain to process everything.

Was it a glitch in the system? Or was there just so much information on the subject?

"I found an article you might find useful."

A page flew through my peripheral vision and appeared in front of me, hovering there patiently. It was from a news source I didn't exactly trust, but there was no reason to give false information about this subject.

"Would you like to see the full article?"

"Yes."

"Speech?"

"No."

My father's quote was the first sentence to catch my eye. "'Eagle's Wing will bring our modern society to greater heights' —Daniel B. Adair," I murmured aloud.

"His words are greatly inspiring, are they not?"

I snapped my head in the direction of the voice and saw Theo, his head hovering over the barrier I had made.

"I guess," I replied, turning back to face the glowing image. "But how is this one discovery going to be different from any other discovery that has improved our future?"

"No one really knows yet," he replied. "But that quote is a promise from the world's greatest scientist to the people of America. Whatever it is he's developing has to be greater than anything we can imagine."

I couldn't stand to stare into Theo's ocean blue eyes, a storm of expectation, loyalty, and trust. It was something I never could have imagined from someone like him.

"Do you look up to Mr. Adair?" I questioned in a barely audible tone.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the tips of Theo's lips. "He has a child, you know. Who that person is, young, teenager, or adult—male or female...no one really knows. But it adds to his mystery." His eyes twinkled, though his face remained still. "It helps me imagine myself being his child. I can picture it, him bragging about his perfect, genius child. My face pasted all over the internet, imprinted in the world's minds."

"Aren't you forgetting that his child is a mystery?" I reminded him. "Even if you were his kid, no one would know it. Especially not the internet."

It was something I had been glad for my entire life. My father had sheltered me from the media and the news, kept me away from nosey, prying eyes. It wasn't just the amount of privacy famous people lacked, or the difficult flexibility that made me feel that way, it was the constant worry of letting my father down. With the media's cameras trailing me everywhere I went, I wouldn't be able to be myself without going viral—in a bad way.

Theo leaned his chin on the top of my barrier, his eyes trailing off into the distance. "If I was his child, he wouldn't want to hide me."

His words hit me like a tsunami, drenching me in icy salt water. It stung my eyes, it seeped into my skin, through my clothes and towards my bones, which had gone stiff.

"I'm sure that pride has nothing to do with it," I retorted, forcing my eyes away from his side profile.

"I could never imagine you being his child," he said, looking back at me, his cold glare returning. "He would probably be ashamed of you. I sure would if I were him."

Was my father ashamed of me?

Was that the reason he had sheltered me?

No. My father loved who I was through and through. The reason he hated being in the media's spotlight was my mother, his wife. The flashing cameras, dirty lies, and dramatized articles had ripped my mother apart and thrown her out like shattered trash. They hadn't cared about her reputation or her health or her torn soul. They only cared about the views—pleasing the public's monstrous, never-ending hunger for gossip.

If Theo wanted to be the center of their devilish attention, then he didn't know the first thing about being famous.

———————

The rest of the day felt like viewing a movie through foggy glasses. Although that makes it sound far more depressing than it was.

I did pull a few successful pranks that worked better than expected. One even included a mini explosion. But it all reminded me of something in the back of my head, throbbing like a headache that refused to completely fade away. A brain tumor that just wouldn't quit.

During lunch, Wren chopped me gently in the center of my head. When I looked up at her, she gestured to my food with her eyes.

If there was anyone who could eat more than me, it was Wren. She might have been the size of a middle schooler, but her stomach was unmatched.

Her stomach wasn't some kind of black hole and all food unfortunate to pass her mouth disappeared into the unknown. Her family's specially developed form of martial arts, Tiger's Eye, was as draining as it was efficient. Wren's mother's side of the family developed it hundreds of years ago to increase the strength of the weak and sick members of the Gushiken family. Because the strength of the martial force was created to improve the weak in body, it required strength in mind, something none in the family lacked.

A tiger's eye represented boldness, bravery, and a fierce heart. The family knew there was no magical property within the tiger's eye, but its legend was kept alive as an inheritance for future generations. It was a tradition to teach each member of the family from birth.

The reason it was kept a secret was that each technique was described as a 'tsunami', a 'blazing arrow of steel', an 'earthquake'. But it went beyond power. It was the pride they held within the art they created.

I handed Wren the other half of my sandwich and she swooped it up before I could second guess my decision. She wasn't a messy eater, despite the speed rate she ate at.

A hand suddenly slammed down on the table between Wren and me. "If it isn't Hen and Stormy," Theo murmured in the small space between our ears.

I lifted my hand from my lap and placed it on his. Then I flipped it and twisted until I heard a crack. "Don't act like you don't know our names," I returned. I released Theo's hands and with it, his breath. It came out in thick painful billows, blowing my hair and tickling my ear. But then it was gone, and with it, Theo.

When I turned to Wren, she seemed completely unfazed, her cheeks filled with food. "Hey, chipmunk." She paused her chewing to look up at me as I rose to my feet. "I'll be right back. Take your time, okay?"

She focused back on her food, her way of expressing her understanding. I pushed my chair back and turned to face the cafeteria as a whole. Wren and I always sat in the back, which gave us a full view of the massive room of tables, chairs, and chattering students. My eyes locked on Theo's table, barely visible through a sea of peers. My legs let in motion toward it before my mind could protest.

When I finally managed to push past the crowd, I slammed my hand down next to Theo, imitating his earlier action. A scream echoed through the large room, bringing the food hall to dead silence. Theo's face paled visibly, but no one was paying any attention to him.

"What was that?" someone's voice echoed through the silence.

"I don't know," someone else replied. "It kinda sounded like a dying hyena crying for help."

"A dying female hyena," yet another person corrected.

In the distracting confusion, I grabbed Theo's wrist and yanked him out of his seat, pulling him along behind me. He was still in a bit of a daze, so it was fairly easy despite...my eyes trailed to his jacket, slightly fitted to his muscles...that.

I threw him into a random classroom and glared up at him, my hands resting comfortably on my hips. He glared back, patiently awaiting my next words.

"I want a do-over," I said, taking a step toward him. "A second chance."

"I don't understand what you're referring to. If it's the test, then forget it. Hopefully, you won't fail next time."

I paused mid-step. "I didn't fail my test."

"You didn't?"

"No. In fact, I got the top score in my class."

I heard a growl erupt from the back of Theo's throat.

It was no surprise that Wren had gotten first in her own class. Which meant that Theo only came in second. It also meant that it was a bit of a touchy subject. But I wasn't here to tease him about it and poke at his bruised ego.

"I want a rematch," I stated. I snapped my legs together and bore my hazel eyes into his ocean blue.

Laughter twinkled in his eyes as he was no doubt reminded of his earlier victory. Annoyance sparked in my own. I grabbed his suit in the palm of my hand and pushed him against the interactive whiteboard, activating the screen and casting him in hazy shadows. "Tomorrow," I hissed. "Gym. Four p.m sharp." Then I released him and stormed out of the room, taking my burning energy with me.