In which Alvin's life begins to fall apart even worse than it already has. You have been warned. He chose to fight to keep learning things and the universe has another lesson for him to learn.

Genius-Alvin's POV

School was not my favorite place to be. It never had been, but it was getting worse and worse. I had to face it: In most people's eyes, I'd gone from the Annoying, Loud, Vain, Immature Nuisance to an Awkward, Lonely, Verbose, Introspective, Nerd. As for my opinion of myself, that changed moment to moment. Every day I discovered something new about the person I am, errr, used to be.

When I lost my popularity, I lost an important part of myself. I began to question if I knew myself as well as I thought I did, and realized that I DIDN'T. When you're a social chameleon trying to hang out with everyone, you change your stripes a lot. (Do chameleons even have stripes? I'll have to ask Jeanette.) I'd molded myself so much to fit what could be considered "cool" and "trendy" and "awesome" that I had entirely lost sight of who I really was.

Now, I had to put those pieces back together using what everyone else said I was. But everyone else had a wildly different view of me. Dave thought I was a troublemaker that needed to be watched so he didn't go off and do dumb stuff. Simon thought I was throwing myself into nerd stuff to replace popularity. Brittany thought I'd become so different that I wasn't even ME anymore. That thought kept me up at night, because she was a really important friend. I had to prove to her I was still Alvin. I had to!

Theodore didn't know what to think, but he supported me and said I was a good person. Eleanor kept telling me I'd become a wimp, which hurt. A lot. And the fact that it hurt proved her point. I HAD become a wimp. I wasn't so sure I liked that. Jeanette seemed to be the only one who really believed that I could change for the better without losing the core of who I was. But was she right? Or was she just too optimistic to consider that her lessons may eventually wipe out Classic Alvin? He seemed to be sure they would, but he also wasn't the brightest version of me.

I started asking the other kids at school who I was. Kevin and Cheesy said I was a good friend, but also manipulative and cunning…in a supervillain way. Vanessa said I was creative and witty and charming. At least one person thought I was still charming. The former soccer teammates of mine said I was a hero for helping them win the championship. I didn't bother correcting them. They would have won regardless of the ball hitting me or not, but taking the credit for the championship win felt nice.

It went on like this all day. I took notes on everything they said. Maybe once it was all laid out together, I'd start to form a more clear picture of who I was. My old drama teacher, Mr. Dotson, thought I'd been argumentative but a talented method actor. My art teacher, Ms. Kate, who I always call Ms. Cake because I forget her actual name, said I was a visionary. Dr. Wilson said he didn't know me well before I set foot in his class, but he could tell I was ambitious.

I even got so desperate that I asked Derek who I was and all he said was "not a nerd, but I like nerd you better. You're more fun to tease." I told Derek to see a therapist and then laughed as he punched the drinking fountain when I moved suddenly. Not gonna lie, that was mighty satisfying.

I shuffled through the notes during my writing class. According to my teachers, peers, and family, I was an absolute miserable wreck of a person and also the coolest and most talented person ever. It didn't feel like those two things went together at all. I was everything. I was nothing. I had potential. I was wasting my potential. I was a famous rockstar, a below average student, a friend, an enemy. The school had to take out an entire insurance policy to pay for damages caused by me, but I'd also saved the school music program by volunteering to be a music teacher once. WHO WAS I!? Could I really be all that? If I could be all that, then I could totally pull off being a jock-nerd too, right?

URGH! THIS WAS SO CONFUSING! Not a day passes by when I'm not entirely confused. Dr. Goodwin blames my confusion and subsequent personality changes on the concussion, but I know better. I'd been changing before I even got the concussion. Now about the other seven of them prior to that last whack on the head, who knows?

"How are you feeling?" Theodore asked me. It was the end of the class period, almost time for our lunch break.

I decided to answer him honestly. He deserved honesty. "Like there's something trapped inside my head trying to claw its way out."

"What?" He looked kinda freaked by that. Crud. Maybe I should have found a better way to explain it.

I pushed up my glasses since they were sliding down my nose again. "I'm fine. I'm just…confused."

He patted my back. "I'm confused too. We can both be confused together."

I love my baby bro so much. It's like he always knows exactly what to say to make me feel less…..alone. I wonder if he says the same stuff to Simon when Simon's feeling down. I hope so. Dang, Netta's really made me NICE. Or maybe I was always nice? Yeah, I have always cared about people and how people were feeling. I don't always think about them before I act, but that doesn't mean I don't care. And Netta also pointed out that once I realize I screwed up, I'm quick to make things right again. She said that's why she's taken to training me. Because I am nice, I just need help properly channeling all my nice-ness.

Anyway, I have to stop monologuing and get into the real meat of our story here. During lunch, I met up with Eleanor and the soccer team. I still wasn't cleared to play and they knew that, but the team kept urging me anyway.

"Come on, are you sure you can't just kick the ball around a bit?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." Tracy added. "We miss our star player."

I rubbed my neck. I didn't want to disappoint them, and I did miss soccer. However, and this thought shocked me, I DIDN'T want to play until I got the okay from Dr. Goodwin that my brain was fully healed up. It was weird. When I thought I was stupid, I didn't care about being reckless as much. Now that I knew what a true gift I was to the world, (and let's face it, I always kinda thought I was, but not in the smart kid way) I didn't want to take any risks that could damage me further than I was already damaged.

More proof that Jeanette's lessons had seeped in and changed the way I processed my thoughts. Classic Alvin would have just rushed in headfirst and played soccer again. I knew that. I knew what he wanted, I knew what I wanted, and I had the ability to choose between them instead of caving to my impulses.

"Sorry, guys. Head's still a little tender." I fibbed. I figured that sounded cooler than "Sorry, the doctor said I still can't play and I'm obeying her orders."

"It's been almost two months!" John complained.

"Yeah, I think your head is fully healed now, Alvin." Eleanor spun the soccer ball around on her finger. "You sure you don't wanna run a few practice drills?"

I will not cave to the temptation. I will not cave to the temptation. I lost the ability to access my knowledge once, it could happen again. Plus, who knows what other important memories the next concussion could wipe out. Dave said I had temporary amnesia once. I don't remember that, but I do remember Dave having temporary amnesia. It's at the point now where I know more about the vast mysteries of outer space than I do about what's going on in my own head.

"Hey, earth to spacecase." Eleanor poked at me. "Ya seeing flying equations again or what?"

"No. I'm good." I jolted myself back to reality. It was so much easier to zone out these days. I had too much on my mind. Too much stress.

"Cool. Would you like to run a few practice drills?" The Chipette in the mint T shirt repeated.

Yes! No! Yes! No! Maybe! "No thank you." I said finally. I'd made my decision. But was it the right one?

"Since when are you so polite?" Tracy raised an eyebrow at me.

I suddenly felt the need to hastily make an exit. "Uhhh….since now, I guess." But I stayed firmly planted to the spot. "Can I still watch you play?"

"Aren't you sick of watching us?" Bruce asked, starting to kick the soccer ball back and forth with Eleanor.

"Like I said. My head still hurts. I miss playin' sports, but I can't risk it." No! Dude, that sounds lame. "Dave would ground me." I added, not sure if that was true or not. I lied a lot these days. Or half lied. Living a double life was hard work.

"Suit yourself." John said.

Tommy looked at me strangely. "You are planning on coming back to the team, right?"

"Yeah." I took my cap off and rubbed my head. "Eventually. At least, that's the plan."

I watched them play soccer for a while and the physics visions kicked in again. I'm starting to think that areas with a lot of motion are a big trigger for them. That would make sense, wouldn't it? I need to gather more data. As I watched the game, I nibbled on my gummy fruit snacks and the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Dave packed in my lunch.

Eventually, I got bored watching the soccer game and headed over to hang with my favorite nerds. Simon, Kevin, Warren, and Cheesy. Sometimes Bruce was there, when he wasn't playing soccer with Eleanor. Although, Bruce was more of a superhero geek than a science nerd. I was both. Wait, am I calling myself a nerd now? Yeah, yeah I think I am. Or at least a half nerd. No longer just nerdy, definitely a nerd.

"How good do you think your report card will be this marking period?" Kevin asked me. It was so good that he and Cheesy were talking with me again. The indefinite friendship break was over!

I'd had my report card on my mind for weeks. That's likely why he asked. "No idea." I cringed. "All I know is that my progress reports were nothing to sneeze at."

If you're curious, even with Simon, Theo, Jeanette, and occasionally Dave helping me, my grades were alphabet soup. Inconsistent alphabet soup. Whenever I improved in one area, I slipped in two others. Physics remained high, but it was no longer an A. I'd dropped to a B plus, but at least the B plus was steady.

Gym class I was failing now. I wasn't allowed to play sports, so Coach Dopkins had whipped up some paperwork for me about the rules of different sports. The paperwork wasn't interesting, so I hadn't done much of it…or actually any of it. I hated myself for letting my grade slip. I knew how to answer the worksheets, I just didn't have the motivation to bother answering them.

Actually, instead of explaining further, I'm just gonna let ya look for yourselves. Here was my progress report at the start of the marking period.

History- D plus

Math- C

English- B minus

Science- C plus

Gym- D

Art- B minus

Writing- C

Physics- B plus

Then, these were my grades in the middle of the marking period.

History- C plus

Math- B minus

English- B plus

Science- D (I know, annoying, right?)

Gym- F

Art- D

Writing- A

Physics- B plus

And these were my grades the last time I checked a week ago. So, long story short, I had NO IDEA what to expect for my final report card coming soon.

History- D minus

Math- C minus

English- C

Science- B

Gym- F

Art- B minus

Writing- C plus

Physics- B plus

Simon tried to make me feel better. "They weren't, well, THAT bad. There's been improvement since last marking period." He stated.

I rolled my eyes. "You mean when I was failing like five classes? Yeah. I should HOPE so. I have worked my tail off to bring my grades up."

"I know you have. I've watched you." My brother looked at me strangely. "Stop itching at your face."

Huh? I took my hand off my cheek. I'd been scratching it pretty hard for no apparent reason. "I didn't even know I was doing that."

"It's a stress reaction." Simon told me sympathetically. "Similar to how Jeanette got the sniffles and hives."

Did he have to remind me!? It was my fault she suffered like that. At least now that my secret was out, she was much less sniffly. "Am I gonna break out in hives?"

"No, no, likely not." He handed me the pack of gummy fruit snacks from his lunch. They weren't his favorite. "You're probably just itching your cheek to get rid of pent up nervous energy."

"I'm not nervous." I replied reflexively.

Kevin and Cheesy both laughed while Warren made an "are you kidding me?" sorta face.

"You're the poster child for nervous energy." Warren remarked.

Was he right? Oh, he was, wasn't he?

"Okay, well, how do I get less nervous?" I asked.

Cheesy raised his hand and waved it around. "I usually eat." He crunched a bag of onion flavored chips.

Kevin traded Simon pretzel sticks in exchange for his cheeseballs. "I usually play videogames." The redheaded human guy with black glasses quipped. "Or do research, but I think research is causing your anxiety so…maybe don't do that."

"I write my feelings in my journal." Warren showed me a purple notebook with a ying yang sign on the cover.

"Those are all great ideas, guys. Thanks." I fibbed. I didn't think any of them would work. The anxiety wouldn't leave until after I got my report card. And only IF that report card was decent.

Simon finished his juice box and threw it in the cardboard recycling bin. "Would you like to try my stress relieving techniques?"

I freaked out and then didn't really answer appropriately. "No! NoNo! I don't want to turn into you more than I already have!"

He scowled and then shot me a signature glare. "All I was going to do was suggest yoga and meditation, but forget it."

"I hate meditation." I squeaked adamantly.

He packed up his lunch in a huff as the bell rang. "The old you hated meditation. The old you also hated science and now you have a sticker on your lunch box that says "I heart physics."

Oof. Ouch. He was right about that. Maybe it was worth giving meditation another go. But the classic Alvin was strong in me today. "It was a gift from Jeanette!" I reasoned, looking at the red and cyan sticker. True, it was a gift, but I also really liked it. It fit me. It was one of many things that reminded me to act like the new me…usually anyway.

I was still feeling nervous as I trekked to my locker to grab the cyan colored jacket that was becoming as much of a comfort item as the cap. I kept my pants and rainbow shoes on, but I slipped off my red zip up hoodie with the yellow A pin and cyan shirt, trading it for my cyan soft plush jacket and a red T shirt with a yellow A.

"Inverting your outfit again?" Eleanor teased, noticing me.

I hadn't noticed her until she spoke. I also didn't know what she meant. "Inverting?"

She chuckled. "You know, inverting. Like on a computer."

I continued to give her a blank stare.

"When you invert colors on the computer, cyan becomes red and red becomes cyan." She explained. "They're opposites."

I looked down at my outfit. So the newest addition to my favorite color collection wasn't just a randomly appealing shade of blue? It was a blue that was the exact polar opposite of red? Well, it made sense given I was trying to flip parts of my personality that I wasn't keen on in reverse. Strange I hadn't known that when I chose the color though. Unless deep down I did know.

"Oh. Uh….I bet that's why they look so good together. You know, opposites attract and all that." I said to Eleanor frantically. I was embarrassed, but I still liked the color and I knew I never wanted to stop wearing it.

She scrunched her nose. She couldn't figure me out. She wasn't alone in that. "Yeah….that's why." She looked at my locker, my neatly organized locker which was still messy by Simon standards, but organized to me. "Hey, do you still have that appointment with Dr. Goodwin after school today?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Dave's picking me up."

"Do you think she'll finally give you the "all clear?" The pigtailed Chipette only had one thing on her mind, getting me back on the soccer team.

I slung my black backpack with the skull on it onto my back, wondering if that backpack still fit my style…or ever fit my style. "Who can say?" I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. "I slipped up and told her about the hallucinations at the last appointment. She thinks there might be more damage than she thought. But, but, the important part is that I am healing!"

"Right." Eleanor responded. I don't think she knew what else to say. "Well, fingers crossed you're okay."

It felt weird. It was like I was living as my best self and living a lie at the same time. I caught my geekified reflection in the classroom window. It shimmered for a brief moment and transformed into Classic Alvin. He looked hurt. The choices I was making were hurting him. They were for the best though. Better safe than sorry. Better to apply myself and fail than not to try at all. Classic shimmered again and the reflection transformed back into mine.

I shook my head to clear it. "Anyway, I gotta get to class." I started to run off and then tripped over one of my shoelaces that had come untied and fell headfirst into Brittany.

"Watch where you're going, Albert." She snapped. Oh yeah, she called me that now. I kinda preferred Anti-Alvin, but what could I do? Britt wasn't easy to reason with.

"My bad!" I helped her pick up her things and my hands clasped around a folder with a bunch of fashion design ideas spilling out of it. "These are exquisite, by the way."

She snatched them from me and held them close to her chest. "I know that." She grumbled. "But, uh, thank you, I guess." She sighed as she looked at my appearance. "So….." She clicked her tongue. "I see you're still weird."

"You know it!" I boasted, as if it was something I was proud of.

"Still no interest in being popular again?" She frowned, looking at me as if I were a complete stranger.

I guess in a way, I was. "Not an inkling." I retorted. It was another half lie. The Classic Alvin in me desperately wanted to be popular. But the uplifted and self bettered side really didn't care….at all. Freaky.

Eleanor couldn't resist joining in our conversation. "I don't know why you keep asking him the same question all the time. You're gonna get the same answer. Face it. He's never going to be the same."

"He'll get bored of this eventually." Brittany eyed me with a sly grin. "And as soon as he does, I'll be there to welcome Alvin back with open arms."

I turned away from her and rubbed the sleeves of my cyan jacket. It was quickly becoming a new stim for me, especially when someone started questioning whether or not I was who I claimed to be. Maybe I have changed more than I feel I have. No! Don't let her in your head! You are Alvin! You ARE Alvin!

"W…W….We sh…should probably get to class." I stammered. "We…d…don't wanna b…be late." Why was stereotypical nerd talk my default now!? Urgh!

"And you're worsening his stress." Eleanor told her older sister. "Nice going." Oooh her sarcasm was as sassy as Simon's.

"He's always stressed these days." Brittany commented, walking into the classroom and taking her seat.

Britt was right. I needed to lean back into Classic Alvin mode and relieve some stress. So, I breezed through the science classwork for the day and then took out my phone to play Jetpack Joyride under my desk where nobody could see. Until Miss. Smith caught me after Bocarter (aka richest jerk in school) tattled on me.

When science class ended, I walked back into the hall to complain to my friends and family. "One of these days, I'm going to transfer the kinetic energy of my fist into a force vector applied to Bocarter's stupid face." I fumed.

Simon chuckled. Jeanette understood what I said, but because of her values, she was not impressed. Eleanor grinned.

Neither Theo nor Brittany knew what I'd just said.

"Speak English, Alvin." The diva in pink grumbled.

I smirked. "That was English."

"Simon?" Theodore glanced up at the taller boy in blue for the answer. "Help."

Simon cleared his throat. "Alvin wants to punch Bocarter." He translated.

I sighed. "You realize I said that in a way they wouldn't understand ON PURPOSE!?"

He smirked back at me. "I did." He chuckled. "As you would say, oopsie."

"Nah. Oopsie is Britt's catchphrase." Eleanor cut in. "Alvin says WHOOPS!"

Then, Brittany and Eleanor both started singing.

"Whoops

He's made another mistake.

Whoops

There's one more thing he can break

Whoops…"

I stopped them, feeling my cheeks get warmer as the embarrassment levels elevated.

"I think I need a quiet place somewhere away from you."

I sang, running off down the hall. I was skipping out on gym class. What was the point of going when I already had an F? There wasn't time to turn it around. I spent all of gym class hanging out in the school library. Why this was becoming my go to place to relax, I wasn't sure. Maybe it was because I associated the library with Jeanette. If Jeanette made me feel safe, then so did the library.

I didn't have my phone, so I hopped on one of the library computers and read more of that TV tropes website. It was fun familiarizing myself with all the tropes. They were as easy for me to memorize as song lyrics, which came a lot easier than physics, even though I was gifted in the physics department. Hmmm. Maybe I was gifted in the music and entertainment department too?

When I finished reading TV tropes, I decided to check out a website Jeanette had been recommending for ages. Coolmath games. That's right! They have computer games that teach you math. How had I never known about this before? I didn't mind brushing up on my skills. Had to keep them sharp somehow.

Before I knew it, it was time to head to my writing class. I suffered through writing a short story about a historically significant thing. Historical fiction. Blah! My worst enemy. Give me science fiction and fantasy ANY DAY. Anyway, I picked the Berlin Wall and wrote a tale about how my brothers and I went to Germany and tore the wall down with the power of rock and roll. We helped re-unite a little girl with her brother. It was heartfelt, it was entertaining, it was even mostly historically accurate…I think, anyway. I made sure to set it in the 80s for the most accuracy possible. I got a C on it. If you ask me, it deserved an A plus, but I was in no place to argue.

Then, it was time for art class. We went outside and were instructed to paint whatever we could see. Jeanette painted a beehive and a butterfly bush with monarch butterflies on it. Me? I painted the soccer field. I was still missing soccer a lot. I even added myself to the soccer field, bouncing a soccer ball on my knee.

"That looks stupendous." The art teacher told me. "But that wasn't the assignment, Alvin."

I shook my paintbrush at her. "Ah ah ah. You said to paint whatever I can see. I see this in my mind's eye."

She threw her hands in the air. "Can't argue with that logic."

"You should add Eleanor to the painting and give it to her." Jeanette suggested.

I didn't actually hate that idea. I began mixing up some mint colored paint because that's a really hard color to get correct. Too much blue and it's cyan, too much green and it's just green.

I leaned closer to Jeanette and watched her add the brilliant orange monarch butterflies to her painting. "How do you make them so realistic like that? Mine looks all…cartoony."

"It takes a lot of practice." She stuck the paint brush behind her ear and held up her thumb in front of her face. "I could teach you some time."

"Why are you holding your thumb like that?" I kneeled on my knees to mix up more paint to add in Eleanor to my picture. I could have just given it to her as is and said she was invisible, but that would be mean.

Jeanette took the paintbrush down from behind her ear and continued to paint. "I'm measuring." She brushed a stray brown hair off her face. "Not everyone has super measuring powers."

"Oh, yeah." I got up to return to my painting to discover that the cuffs of my jeans were covered in paint splatters. I must have knelt in the paints by accident. Whoops. Luckily, the paint missed my shoes.

It was sorta cool looking. Purple, lime green, yellow, cyan, magenta, forest green. However, I was sure that one person would not find it cool. "These were brand new jeans. Dave's gonna kill me." I murmured quietly.

"I think they look better like that." Jeanette commented, midnight eyes shining.

"So do I." I let out a small chuckle. "But that doesn't change the fact that Dave's gonna kill me."

"He would never do anything to hurt you on purpose." She insisted.

"Yeah, I guess not." I agreed. "It's just an expression. It means he'll be mad."

"Oh." She did that adorable half smile. "Well, tell him that I said they make you look like a very distinguished gentleman. Maybe that'll make him less mad."

"Worth a try." I loved how she was full of little comments like that.

The day was going better than most, honestly. At least, it was until I got to my beloved physics class. I noticed immediately that something was wrong. Dr. Wilson was taking all his posters off the walls. There were also a bunch of boxes in the room. Oh no! No no no no! Please tell me he was moving rooms to another section of the school or something.

"What's going on?" I asked, sounding forlorn. I like that word. Sad just doesn't fully encapsulate my feelings sometimes.

He looked at me. His eyes were less twinkly than usual. "Well, you know how an object in motion wants to stay in motion?"

I felt sick. "You're….You're LEAVING?"

"I'm sorry, Alvin." He packed another box of his posters and demonstration equipment. "The enrichment classes were only for one semester."

"Are they sending you back to Greece?" I blubbered, tears leaking out of my eyes. I was a weepy wimp and I didn't care. He couldn't LEAVE!

He chuckled, though he still looked sad. "Oh, goodness no. I'm being transferred to another school district in California. I left Greece because I'd always wanted to live in California. There's no way I'd give up living the dream."

"But….but….can't you be in both school districts?" I felt my lip quiver.

He let out a heavy sigh. "The commute between schools is too long. Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted to hear today, but the new job is a wonderful opportunity. I mustn't squander it."

I ran over and threw myself around his leg. "How am I supposed to go on without you!?" I sobbed. "You're the only teacher who GETS me! You know how I learn! You know how to make stuff stick! I can't do it without you! I can't! Please don't leave me!"

"I know. I know." He gently shook his leg until I dismounted it. Then, he bent down to look into my eyes. "But, Alvin, now I have to go and help other kids who are struggling. I've given you all the tools you need to succeed. Now, all you have to do is use them."

"How can I use them without you coaching me!?" I sobbed again. "You're the only one who made this school tolerable!"

He handed me a tissue. At this point, the other students were filing into the class. They looked sad, but no one looked as devastated as I did.

I could hear them whispering about me.

"What's wrong with Alvin?"

"He's been so different lately."

"Do you think it's the concussion?"

"Hard to believe he used to be cool."

Dr. Wilson lifted me up onto his desk. "You'll be okay. You just have to have faith in yourself. And, well, I don't usually do things like this, but…" He handed me a slip of paper. "Here's my email address. If you ever feel like you are at the breaking point and you absolutely need my advice, send me an email. Or just, keep me updated on how you're doing from time to time. Not every day, but like….once a month, okay?"

I looked at the slip of paper in my hand. I had a teacher's email address. That was….weird. "Okay." I forced a smile through my all encompassing sadness.

"I've got to teach the class now." He told me softly. "But if you stay after, I have something for you. I think you'll like it."

I climbed off his desk and took my seat, feeling the weight of gravity more strongly than I'd ever felt it before. My world was spinning. And the physics hallucinations kicked in again, which only made me more dizzy. I shut my eyes and listened as Dr. Wilson taught possibly the last lesson he'd ever teach me. It was a lesson about Dark Matter and what he calls the chasm of ignorance. Apparently, there's trouble connecting all the theories about space and time together, which is why they're only theories and not laws.

He passed back our exam grades and I opened my eyes enough to see my final grade on it. An A. Not a single question missed. Of course, my report card grade would still be a B plus. Dr. Wilson didn't weigh the exams a whole lot. We basically only did them because the school said every class had to.

When class ended, I opened my eyes again. The other students were all headed out and my hallucinations had faded. A couple random kids with names I didn't know told me that if I needed to talk, they were here for me. That was nice. At least when they saw me in distress, they were compassionate enough to offer their time. Time was really valuable.

Dr. Adam Wilson grabbed his labcoat and packed it away in a box. Then, he took something out of his desk drawer. It was a velvety red jewelry case. He brought it over to me and I took it with an unsure look.

"You bought me jewelry?" I wasn't really the jewelry type.

He chuckled. "Not exactly what you're thinking, but sort of." It was weird how he knew what I was thinking. Although, Jeanette said that according to some psychological 16 personalities stuff, Dr. Wilson and I were both the same type. We processed information in the same ways, but what we did with that information was different.

I opened the box. There, resting on a little red velvet pillow was a pin. It looked like an electric green colored alien head. Clearly, it was a callback to when I first took his class and was convinced he was an alien.

I took it out of the box and pinned it to my jacket. "I love it." I said with a wide grin.

"I'm going to miss our frequent talks." He said, walking away to peel the last poster off the wall.

"Me too." I sniffled again, stuffing the red velvet pin container in my backpack. "Thanks for giving me something to remember you by."

His eyes twinkled. "It glows in the dark too." He winked.

I looked down at the shiny alien pin on my jacket. "Of course it does."

He taped up the last box. "Well, that's the last of it. Is there anything else you'd like to tell me before I go?"

I could feel the tears coming again. I blinked them back. "Thank you for helping me fry my brain."

"You're gonna do amazing things, kiddo." He waved at me. "It's been a pleasure having you in class."

I got to the door and then the tears started again. A pleasure to have in class? No one had EVER said that about me before. And now, the one person who did WAS LEAVING! It was too much. I couldn't take this! Not on the day report cards come home!

I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. I needed to get prepped for that doctor's appointment. I needed to not tell Dave any of this until after the doctor. I couldn't stress him out more. I could tell he was worried about me. Everyone was worried about me.

I walked out to Dave's car and the first thing he said as soon as he saw me was... "What happened to your pants?"

I frowned. "Nice to see you too, Dave."

"Alvin, answer the question." He opened the passenger side door.

"Find. Fine." I gestured to my "ruined" jeans. "Just a little, you know, mishap in art class. It's not like I don't have a dozen pairs of these. What's the big deal?"

"I buy you nice things and you find a way to wreck them." My dad was clearly upset. Maybe he's had a bad day at work. Yeah. That's it. It couldn't just be my jeans.

"I like them better this way." I said, striking a model-esque pose.

He groaned. "Get in the car."

I jumped up into the passenger seat and hurled my backpack into the backseat.

"That's not going to rub off on the seats, is it?"

I touched the paint splatters to check. "No. They're dry."

"So how was school today, aside from the art class mishap?" Dave asked.

I buckled myself in. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's a nice pin. Where'd you get it?" He was really fishing for a conversation.

"I don't want to talk about it." I repeated.

His face grew increasingly concerned. "You didn't steal it, did you?"

I glared at him. "No."

He sighed in relief. "Good good. Well, uh, do you want to listen to some music?"

"Sure." I turned on the radio to the station that played 80s music.

"You like this station?" He raised an eyebrow as he shifted the car in gear.

I nodded. "It's a fun variety."

"This is the kind of music I listened to when I was a kid." Dave smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "You're ruining this, David."

"Sorry. Sorry. Let's just….listen." My dad turned up the radio as George Michael's song Faith blasted out of it.

"You gotta have faith faith faith

You gotta have faith faith faith

Baby."

"We covered this once, didn't we?" I asked.

Dave shrugged. "You've covered so much that I've lost track. Maybe you did."

I leaned back in the seat and let the music sweep me away.

Not long later, we were at the concussion specialist that Dr. Goodwin referred us to. She was going to be there too. I guess she wanted to see how well I was doing, typical fangirl stuff. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I had to fill out a questionnaire about how I was feeling. They were checking for any lingering concussion symptoms. I answered it truthfully, which was a mistake, but I didn't realize that at the time.

"Good to see you, Alvin." Dr. Goodwin greeted me.

"Hey." I handed her the questionnaire and her eyebrows raised as she looked over the results.

Another doctor entered the room. He had curly black hair, dark skin, and a green jacket. He looked friendly. I liked it when doctor's looked friendly. "How're you doing little guy?"

Urgh. He called me little guy. I hate it when people bring my size into things. I get it. I'm short. I'm small. I'm (EWWW) petite. "I'm alright." I lied. I was very much not alright.

Dave took a seat and looked worried. "He says he's alright, but I'm not sure what's going on with him. He's been…different."

"TBI can do that to a person." The guy in the green jacket pointed to his name tag. "I'm Dr. Walters. I specialize in neurological conditions brought on by traumatic brain injuries."

Great. His name started with a W too. Now I was thinking about Dr. Wilson, who I might never see face to face again. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. "I…" I started to say before the blabbermouth Walters dude cut me off.

"Tell me, son. Have you been experiencing any of the following? Headaches, fatigue, balance issues, difficulties focusing, lapses in memory, heightened anxiety, or mood swings?" He was a real motormouth. He could give me competition, if I was feeling chatty.

I let out a dry laugh. "All of the above."

He gasped. "I had no idea it was that serious. Dr. Goodwin said your scan seemed fine."

"That's just it. It seemed fine on the outside, but I noticed minor areas of damage and he seems to be getting more and more stressed with each checkup." Dr. G explained. "We have no idea what's going on in there."

I decided to tell them why I said what I said. "Oh, I had all of those things BEFORE the concussion. They're symptoms of my ADHD. Which, I've had my entire life. Even back before Dave adopted me."

Both doctors looked to Dave who nodded. "But that doesn't explain how drastically his personality has changed lately."

"My personality is…." Oh man, maybe it had changed more than I felt it had. More than I wanted it to. "What…What do you mean my personality changed?"

"You've been less impulsive, more agreeable, you've even started doing your chores all the time….without being asked." My dad went on while both doctors frantically took notes.

"Alvin, have you experienced any shifts in cognitive functioning?" Dr. Walters pressed me.

I clenched my jaw. "I became a genius out of nowhere. Just like my brother Simon." I admitted. "But that was before the soccer ball hit me too."

"Strange." Dr. Goodwin remarked.

"I think I can explain the personality shift." I said, standing up on the bed thingie in the doctor's office. "I've been TRYING to be more mature. My friend Jeanette is helping me. She's taught me how to be less impulsive. I just don't wanna hurt myself anymore. I've been in more hospitals than I can count. And her lessons, they are WORKING. So, yes, my personality isn't exactly the same as it was, but the concussion didn't cause that. I was working on myself before it happened."

"Oh thank goodness." Dave hugged me. "I was so worried you were falling apart mentally, but you're just growing up."

Well, dad, I am falling apart mentally too, but that's for Netta and I to deal with. I thought to myself.

"Hmmm." Dr. Goodwin studied the questionnaire. "But you wrote right here that you "don't know who you are anymore and if you're even still Alvin."

Drat! I knew my honesty would come back to haunt me. "You can ignore that." I said quickly.

"Ah, so we're dealing with ego death." Dr. Walters quipped. "Not what I'd expect from a famous rockstar."

"Yes. I'm very aware my ego died." I snapped. "That wasn't the concussion's fault either."

"Then what was it?" Dave and both doctors gathered around me.

"It was finding out I wasn't as popular as I thought. Okay? Are you happy? All it took to break me was that." I hung my head in shame. "I'm such a wimp."

"Alvin, why didn't you tell me?" My dad asked, looking even more worried. "I had no idea it hit you this hard. We all thought you were just getting carried away with your acting."

"Because it's stupid." I fumed. "It shattered my perception of who I was entirely." Then, Theo and Jeanette's words echoed in my head. Think positive. "But, but, on the positive side, it made me realize that I'd been living in a little bubble. When the bubble, you know, popped, I realized I had an entire world to explore. There's nothing I won't try now."

"Sweetheart." Dr. Goodwin sat down. "It's not stupid. Everyone has a different breaking point." She looked to Dr. Walters. "But we have a serious situation on our hands. You've lost your sense of self. And that, if left untreated, is a recipe for disaster."

"How do I find it again? What if I never find it again?" I was crying again now. I wanted so badly to rewind time and never go out to watch Britt at cheer practice that fateful day. I wished I could build a time machine like Doc Brown from Back to the Future, although I'm more of a Marty McFly type guy.

Dr. Walters wrote something else on a clipboard. "Therapy can help, but it's different for everyone."

"I'm in therapy." I said, brightening a bit. "Jeanette's giving me therapy."

"She's not a licensed therapist." Dave pointed out.

I glared at him. "So? She's something. She studies psychology. She's helping me. It IS therapy."

"Well, then I say, continue sessions with her. But if you find she can't help you, then we can get you another therapist with more experience." Dr. Walters smiled at me again.

I finally remembered the only reason I agreed to come to this crummy place. "What about sports?" I sniffled. "Since you know that all my problems are unrelated to the concussion…" Besides the physics visions, but shhhh! "Does that mean you can clear me to play sports again? And skateboard again? As long as I do it, you know, not recklessly?"

The two doctors and Dave got into a huddle. I nervously chewed my fingernails, wondering what the verdict would turn out to be.

"With everything we have learned today, I see no reason to…." Dr. Goodwin smiled. "continue discouraging you from sports. In fact, you could probably use the exercise. It might help perk you up."

I jumped up just a tiny bit. "It might help me find myself again."

"Here's hoping." Dr. Walters said tidying up the papers that were out of place from the force of my mini jump.

That night, on the ride home, Dave and I stopped at the taco place and I got a giant blue raspberry slushie to celebrate. I was still bummed about losing Dr. Wilson and scared that my unstable, half formed, shifting identity would be further eroded by the day. But there was a shining light gleaming from the end of that dark dark tunnel. I could play sports again! I'd truly be a part of the soccer team again, instead of an outsider trying to fit in. Eleanor would be so thrilled when I told her. I couldn't wait to see her face light up.

But, I'm Alvin Seville, things never work out for me for very long. I didn't realize it then, but Dr. Wilson leaving was just the tipping point. My life would be taking a turn for the absolute worst. In the next weeks, I would have my limits tested, my spirit broken, and I would come out of it truly and irrevocably transformed inside and out.

Ooooh! It's getting into the tearjerker stuff now. Writing that Dr. Wilson scene hurt me. (Although, if you've read any of my other stories, you know he returns much later as the AP Science teacher.)

Alvin's really been broken down. I dig how Dave is clearly trying to help, but not sure exactly how. He's still doing better at it than Alvinnn Dave would. Give him a big E for effort. Lol

And now do you see just how deep of a hole Alvin's dug for himself by choosing to try and figure himself out through other people instead of trusting his instincts and his new preferences? Typical extrovert thing to do though. Poor poor kid.

I love and hate writing this, but it's all important to get him to the next story, in which he finally realizes he wants to be a scientist and proceeds to, you guessed it, have a crisis over that. Alvinnn Alvin only has one mode: Crisis mode.

Join me again soon as I delve farther and farther into this kid's psyche and Jeanette gets to narrate her thoughts again!