Cindy grunted as she adjusted her backpack. At first, she thought it would be easy to carry all these textbooks home. Now she wasn't so sure.

After taking the bus home (something that she was immensely grateful for), Cindy was already counting off the homework assignments that she had to get done. It was significantly lighter than her load back at SACK, and if she was lucky she could get it all done that very night.

At least, she had thought that, until she saw that her mother's car was parked in the driveway. Cindy sighed defeatedly and braced herself for what lay ahead even as she dug out her house key from her pocket.

Cindy unlocked her front door and heard Humphrey bark excitedly when he realized that she was home. She sighed again, closed the door behind her, and set her bag down by the stairs before she turned to her mother, who was waiting on the couch.

"Cynthia," her mother said, not even looking up from her phone. "It is so fortunate that you are here, darling. I have already signed you up for a piano lesson in an hour with your old teacher, followed by an irish clogging lesson with a new teacher, and—"

Cindy started to zone out as her mother listed a bunch of other crazy activities that she'd signed her daughter up for. Even after five years, the flash of annoyance that came at her mother's actions was not unfamiliar. However, the spark of teenage rebellion and her own steely will that had grown over the years provided her with the extra push she needed.

"No, mom," Cindy interrupted, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. At her feet, Humphrey whined, sensing the incoming confrontation.

Her mother's speech stuttered to a halt. "I'm sorry, what?" Her aristocratic accent faded slightly in her outrage. It was almost humorous.

Cindy shook her head and stood her ground. If there was one thing that Sweden had taught her, it was the need to take a break every once in a while. Her education in Europe had been rigorous. Now that she was home, she just wanted to rest. Especially with someone like Electron in town. "I'm not going to do all that stuff you signed me up for—without asking me, by the way."

Her mother looked dumbfounded, though whether it was by Cindy's decision or the fact that she was standing up to her mother, Cindy couldn't be sure. "But—the colleges—"

"Will already be impressed by the fact that I studied abroad," Cindy said.

She wasn't sure what exactly had gotten into her. When she was younger, she never would have stood up to her mother, and certainly not like this. But Cindy had grown in more ways than one since she left for Sweden, and she would not let her mother intimidate her now.

For a moment, Cindy's mother seemed to be at a loss for words. Then her face started to redden in anger.

The following argument was long and heated and left Cindy wishing for a good, old-fashioned, regular argument with Neutron instead of the woman who'd raised her. Eventually, she didn't even bother to end the conversation, and just stormed up to her room.

It seemed that her return home was going to be significantly harder than she had originally thought.

"I didn't know you ran track," Cindy said the next day, rubbing her bleary eyes.

"Sure do!" Sheen replied, flexing his nonexistent muscles.

They were all sitting at lunch, though Cindy rather slumped. She hadn't slept well the previous night. After she had finished her homework, she had been too angry at her mother to get much sleep. She sincerely hoped that her homelife would be much simpler after the air had been cleared, but she knew that was wishful thinking.

"Did someone get Sheen talking about track again?" Jimmy asked, setting his tray down next to the hyperactive boy in question.

Carl nodded, and Cindy could tell that he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. "We were talking about the track meet tonight."

Cindy stabbed into her green beans with a spork. "I didn't even know Retroville had a track team."

"They're fairly decent," Neutron replied, opening his carton of milk with a shrug. "At least, we don't lose most of the time, like our football team."

At that thought, Cindy's eyes flicked across the cafeteria, over to Butch, who was busy trying to bully a vending machine into functioning properly. No wonder the boy was so grumpy.

"Anyway," Sheen said, dusting his knuckles on his shirt in what was probably meant to be a suave fashion, especially since Libby was once again sitting next to him. "Turns out running from villains makes you realllllly good at running."

At this, Neutron winced. The movement was subtle, but it was enough to draw Cindy's attention—right to the purple bruise forming underneath his left ear. Of course, once she saw that, several other details fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Neutron's sparse lunch, composed only of chocolate milk and a small container of applesauce. The fact that he had been ten minutes late.

"What happened, Neutron?" Cindy asked him, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer. She tried her best to speak in her most pleasant voice so as to not start another argument. Despite her normal reasons for arguing with Neutron, she wasn't sure that she could handle another argument at that moment. Besides, deep down (maybe not as deep down as she wished), she was concerned.

Jimmy tensed, but when he saw the almost angry look in her eyes, he relented. It was a good thing. If he had lied, Cindy would have cross-examined him quite thoroughly.

"Tommy Richards stole my lunch money and punched me," Neutron admitted, rubbing his neck and avoiding eye contact. He must have seen Cindy's look, because he added, "It's not a big deal. Really."

It took Cindy a moment to remember that she was not supposed to like Neutron, much less look out for him. But it took a great deal of control not to track down this "Tommy Richards" and give him something to think about.

She was back for all of four days, and already she was starting to forget her policy regarding Jimmy Neutron. It simply wouldn't do. She did have a reputation to uphold, after all.

So she made a big show of rolling her eyes, even if inside she was itching to punch Tommy Richards in return. "Come on, Spewtron, stand up for yourself! Not even you should have to endure something like that. Who even is this 'Tommy' anyway?" There! She had masked any concern that she may or may not have had behind a curtain of sardonic disregard.

Jimmy continued to rub the back of his neck. It must have become some sort of nervous habit over the years. "He's the top runner for track. And it's fine, Cindy. I just didn't want to cause a scene."

Now, that was odd. As children, Jimmy lived for causing scenes. But, Cindy supposed things were different now, especially since he didn't have his genius anymore.

"Don't worry, Jimmy!" Sheen exclaimed, thrusting one finger into the air grandly. "I'll put Tommy in his place by beating his score at the track meet today!"

Libby patted her boyfriend's shoulder. "Sheen, you and Tommy are on the same team."

"Oh, right." Sheen deflated for a moment, but his crazy energy just filled him right back up. "Well, I'll beat his time anyway!"

Libby chuckled. "Okay, Sheen." Judging from the hopeless look on her face, Cindy deduced that this Tommy must have been a fast runner indeed.

"You'll all be there, right?" Sheen said, looking around the table.

"You know Jimmy and I will. We never have plans," Carl said.

Neutron shot his friend a glare. "Thanks, Carl." But then he sighed. "Yeah, we'll be there."

"And I'll be there," Libby said, leaning her head on Sheen's shoulder. He grinned.

The others looked at Cindy expectantly. Even though she had never been to a track meet, she decided that it was probably a good thing. It meant less time at her house with her mother, and homework wouldn't be much of a problem.

"All right," she said with a sigh. "Count me in, too."

Jimmy winced as the crowd roared. How could a group of only twenty kids cheer so loudly?

He pulled his baseball cap lower over his head as a few of the track kids looked up at the bleachers. If he was lucky, Tommy Richards would notice Jimmy and set aside extra time for a beatdown in between matches.

In truth, merely sitting in the bleachers was torture enough. Despite the fact that it was mid-November, the sun was beating down, and the metal of the bleachers was only intensifying the star's beams, turning the seating for the crowd into an easy-bake oven. That, and the fact that sporting events bored Jimmy terribly, combined into a truly miserable experience. The only thing that made it bearable was the chance to see Tommy bested, and the fact that Cindy was sitting next to him. Not that he would ever admit either of those things.

The stadium had taken the school two years to get enough funding from, without any tacky tourist attractions to make money from. It was both a football stadium and a track field, with the red turf surrounding the fake green grass in a large oval. The bleachers around the track were rickety and may or may not have been a safety hazard, but they fit a large crowd of people quite nicely. Unfortunately, less than twenty people had showed up to the match—including the kids from the away team.

Jimmy rubbed the bruise under his ear as Libby cheered Sheen on, giving Jimmy a headache on top of everything else. All he could think was that this had better be worth it.

"Libby, they're just warming up," Carl said, munching on popcorn. When Jimmy tried to take a few kernels, the redhead smacked his hand away.

"I know," Libby replied, almost sheepishly. She was wearing a big foam finger on one hand that would have made Jimmy laugh if he had been itching for a slap to the face. "I'm encouraging him."

As the crowd cheered again (why on earth did they keep doing that?), Cindy leaned forward and shouted, "Which one is Tommy?"

Jimmy shivered, which was completely out of place with the sweltering temperature in the stands. Cindy was awfully close to him, in order to be heard over the small crowd. The hot bleachers suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter, which he knew was impossible. He also knew that it didn't matter—any allure that she had felt for him (after countless years of replaying things in his head, he knew there had been at least a little bit) was born of his gigantic brain. Now that he was normal, he was just an average joe, and of little interest to someone like her.

Still, it took him a moment to beat down the waves of attraction that floated through him before he could respond. "I think he's the one that—" Jimmy cut himself off and squinted into the crowd of runners at the track. Since they were seated toward the top of the bleachers, it was harder to see. "That's weird."

"What's weird, Jim?" Carl asked, overhearing.

Jimmy pulled his hat lower in an attempt to block the sun out of his eyes. "I don't think Tommy is actually down there."

"Yeah, that is weird," Libby replied, shading her eyes with her foam finger. "Why wouldn't the star of the track team be here?"

Jimmy wasn't looking, but he sensed Cindy rolling her eyes. "Maybe he finally got too big for his britches and decided to quit."

"That's horrible!" Carl exclaimed. "How will we win now?" The other three stared at him. "What?"

Libby rolled her eyes as well. "Maybe he's just late."

Jimmy crossed his arms. "Or maybe he's beating up another nerd." He couldn't stand bullies.

"Well, if he is late, there's no way he'll make the match now," Cindy said, pointing down at the track. "The race is about to start."

She was right. As Jimmy squinted down at the track and regretted their decision to sit higher up, the sprinters were gathering into a line on the track, getting ready to start. He thought he could make out the Coach, looking none too happy on the sidelines. Tommy must not have made it! As much as his mother would have scolded him for it, Jimmy couldn't help but feel happy, not to mention relieved.

"I want a clean race!" the referee shouted, quieting the crowd temporarily as they listened in. The referee—an old man with no hair and an old-fashioned, curly mustache—shot Coach Grubber a glare. "Which means no trampling!"

"Aw, come on!" Grubber complained. "That's the best part!"

Jimmy shuddered as he remembered the many, many times he had been trampled under Coach Grubber's watch. Mostly by the girl sitting next to him.

"On your marks," the ref shouted. It seemed that everyone in the stand held their breaths. Why, Jimmy didn't know. "Get set!"

Jimmy rolled his eyes as several people leaned forward in their seats. Surely the race wasn't—

"GO!"

It was almost as if someone had fired a gun, and the sprinters were the bullets. Immediately, all of the runners shot off (though one sprained his ankle instantly).

Jimmy had forgotten just how fast Sheen was. He hadn't come to the last few track meets, mostly because they were far away, at other schools, and he had homework to catch up on.

In a few moments, Sheen Estevez had taken the lead, running far ahead of the other track competitors.

"YEAH! SHEEN!" Libby shouted, making everyone in a two-yard radius cover their ears and turn to glare at her. She ignored them.

"He could win the whole race!" Carl exclaimed. "Usually, Tommy is in the lead."

As one, the group of friends started to cheer on the jersey that read Estevez, and even though Sheen wasn't the most popular, the rest of the kids from Lindbergh High School joined in as well. If possible, this only seemed to fuel Sheen's speed, and Jimmy thought he could see a giant grin on his friend's face as he neared the finish line. A moment later, it was all over, and the Retroville portion of the stands exploded into cheers.

"Is that it?" Cindy asked, once the noise had settled down. On the track, the referee was preparing to give the top three racers their medals.

"Did you not have races in Sweden?" Carl said, finishing off his popcorn.

She shook her head. "No. Our school sport was ice fishing."

Jimmy grimaced at that thought. Fishing was bad enough by itself—ice fishing would be even worse. Still, he couldn't resist a jibe. "And I bet you were the school champion, right Vortex?"

Cindy glared at him. Usually, it would have aggravated him, but instead Jimmy found that his heart gave a strong little tug. Turns out he missed that more than he thought he would.

"For your information, Frankenhead, I—"

WHOOSH!

Rockets. Great. Despite the deafening noise that had just taken over the field, Jimmy heard Cindy sigh next to him and say, "Not again."

Sure enough, a moment later, a large, robotic suit appeared in the sky, just like the one from Cindy's party. As if on cue, everyone in the stands started screaming—although this time, it was for a very different reason. Jimmy was forced to hold onto the bottom of his seat with both hands as the bleachers started to shake with the force that people were propelling themselves away. In a very short amount of time, the stadium was almost completely empty, save for Jimmy, Cindy, Libby, Carl, Sheen, and a hovering Electron in his robot suit.

Electron's suit looked much the same as it had last time, though the afternoon light revealed that the suit was actually a dark blue, not black. Jimmy swallowed as he realized that the suit's legs had been fully repaired, and the weakness had been covered with steel plates. Defeating the villain this time would not be as easy—especially because whoever he was seemed to have extensive experience with robotic suits, if the way he balanced himself on the rockets coming from his feet was any indication.

"Cindy Vortex," Electron barked out in his electronic voice. He sounded much less polite than last time. The four in the stands stood up, while on the track Sheen stared up at Electron with an annoyed look on his face. "You have to come with me."

Beside him, Jimmy watched Cindy's stubborn nature and pride take over. Her back straightened, her fists clenched, and she had this defiant look in her eyes that was extremely familiar. "I don't have to do anything, buster. Why don't you take your fancy suit and go dive into a lake of liquid nitrogen?"

Jimmy couldn't see Electron's facial expressions through his metal mask, but he could practically feel the waves of anger radiating from the villain. The feeling was familiar; Jimmy could remember a similar (if not quite so murderous) type of anger born from Cindy's taunts.

"Then," Electron said, still hovering above the stadium, "I guess I'll have to convince you somehow!"

Maybe it was instinct born from his adventures as a child—maybe it was just luck. But somehow, Jimmy knew what was about to happen before it happened.

"Move!" he shouted, grabbing the back of both Cindy and Carl's shirts and shoving them off the side of the bleacher. He tumbled off a heartbeat later and felt Libby follow before heat streaked over their heads, striking the spots where they'd been standing with brutal force.

Jimmy braced himself and landed on the concrete below with a hard thud. Pain flashed along his arm, which he had landed rather hard on, but a moment later someone was pulling him up by his shirt.

"Thanks," Jimmy panted, wincing as he felt a scrape on his left arm.

"Get moving, Neutron!" Cindy hissed, pushing him forward, to where the others were already running—toward the field, toward Electron.

Jimmy would never admit it to anyone, but he hesitated for a microsecond. It had been quite a long time since he'd faced a villain, and he'd always had his genius to back him up before. But then he remembered the promise he'd made to do what he could, and he didn't even have time to curse before he was hurling himself forward as another energy blast from Electron rocked the earth beneath his feet.

Jimmy heard the ignition of a laser sword behind him as he came to a stop on the track field, where Sheen and the others awaited. Above, Electron still hovered, so close that Jimmy could feel the heat from the rockets on the man's suit. He turned in midair to look at them, gathered by a few hurdles. Cindy came to a halt next to Jimmy, the glowing green blade of energy in her hand.

"What do we do?" Libby asked.

It was a sobering question. All five of them had rushed headlong into danger without much of a plan. Jimmy strained his brain trying to come up with one—he tried so hard that his eyes rolled back into his head, but nothing happened. No brain blasts.

Well, this was problematic.

"How nice of you all to unite against me," Electron said, crossing his metallic arms. "Too bad it won't last."

And then the strangest thing happened. Electron looked right at Jimmy, and he could have sworn he heard the villain softly say, "Stay out of this, you little dweeb." Then he was lifting his energy cannon and aiming it right at Jimmy's forehead.

Oh, pluto, Jimmy thought, as the energy cannon fired, sending a laser beam racing toward his skull.