“I think you’ve got this one,” she says, looking straight ahead.

I pause, thinking. “Yeah.” We walk in silence for a bit, passing my old elementary school. It looks so different to me now. So small.

We get to my house, and Dee gives me a squeeze and keeps going. As she saunters away, whistling, hands in her pockets, I think about what I can do. And like a bolt, I remember the Makers’ Space, that artists’ clubhouse I have the key for. I feel a shiver of excitement and almost call out to Dee, but then just leave it. The shadows of the trees are long, but nothing touches her as she strolls down the road; she seems to just float away like some kind of ghost. She knows I’m watching her and raises a hand in a salute to me.

I look up at my house. The front porch light is broken, but there are lights, and lives, inside—without me. I can see them walking around in silhouette. I think of Lottie’s house down the street, that house that used to be like my own, better even. There’s a second then that I feel something soft, warm, for Lottie, like an old worn blanket. Then I remember what Dee said, and wonder if she would ever do something to Lottie without telling me. No.

I shake my head and return to the present. Paige. I look back toward where Dee was, but she’s gone. You’ve got this one, she said. It’s not too late, I think. I can get this done quickly. My heart is beating and pumping out that feeling I’ve come to recognize when I’m doing something, when I’m not taking it lying down.

My handlebars are a little cold and the seat is damp, but as I get closer to the school, I am sweating. I have used the Space on and off since Pete gave me the key. I’m usually a little nervous with the older students, but I’ll be damned if they don’t have some cool equipment: great software and a soundproof audio suite, and even a darkroom if I feel like getting extra moody and arty. Sometimes I work there alongside the upper-years, and I love that no one really knows what anyone else is working on. Everyone ignores everyone else, and it gives me a thrill to think that I can get up to all manner of justice and mischief, that I can scheme and plan and execute right under everyone’s noses.