I hope you enjoy 3

"Hey Gwen," a black-haired girl, Jennie, says as she walks up to me across the school hallway lockers. "I am wondering if you'd like to come shopping with me and the girls after school? We'd like for you to come along—the party is like two weeks from now and I have nothing to wear."

A genuine smile spreads on my face. Ever since Denise's death, more people have attempted to talk to me or spend time with me and I really appreciate it. Jennie was Denise's close friend as well, and we have spent more time together than I can count. I almost see her as my second closest friend, though we definitely don't hang out or talk every day. I have other friends as well in general, but Denise was my best friend—spending time with her felt homely, and there was never a need to "wear a mask" (minus hiding my powers). I don't think I can have that with anyone else.

Kevin comes to mind. Spending time with him feels different. I don't know how to explain it. It isn't a best-friend type of different, but something else…A part of me believes it's a crush. Well, it makes logical sense. I feel excited like a heart-eyed schoolgirl when we are in close proximity, I look forward to talking to him and seeing him, and I cherish the time I spend with him. That's definitely a crush.

I finally turn my head toward Jennie, who is still waiting for a response. I slam my locker shut. "I'd love to, but I actually have something important with a friend that came up. Could we do it tomorrow? I'll be free then." I hug my books against my chest and one side of my sleeves rides higher.

"Yes, tomorrow sounds perfect."

"Great, see you then."

Jennie walks away and I finally place my books inside my bag. I don't know if I'll even attend the party. I'm indifferent to parties and I'd rather spend my time doing something more productive than pulling an all-nighter full of dancing and drinking. It's even worse when they take place during school days, and especially now, where I'm trying to focus on alien threats.

It isn't the end of the day yet. I have one class left—French—which Kevin is also in for some reason. The bell rings and I walk in the direction of the class, moving my head around as I search for Kevin. I haven't seen him today, actually. Well, not since he drove me to school this morning. I'm not sure if he's skipping his classes (I really hope he isn't).

I sigh and I'm about to enter the class, until I see Kevin at the other side of the hallway. He doesn't seem to be walking my way and although I wave at him, he doesn't see me. I take a quick look inside my classroom and then rush to Kevin's side—I'll drag him inside if I have to. Skipping lessons is a big no-no in this school, and if they find out about it, it could be serious.

"Kevin!" I call out. He turns to look at me, and he widens his eyes as if I have caught him in some suspicious act. "Where are you going?"

"To get something to eat," he says in a nonchalant way.

"What about class?"

"Not interested," he quickly says. "I'm not really…uh…."

He pauses as if he doesn't know how to even finish the sentence. I fold my hands and press my lips together.

"Kevin, you can't just skip class whenever you feel like it." I take a step closer to him. "You could get in trouble with your rehab program too."

He runs a hand through his hair and looks to the side.

"Join me?" I half-ask, half-say.

He turns his head toward me and his dark-brown eyes meet mine.

"Okay," he says. "Yeah, I guess it can't be that bad."

Progress. I smile in satisfaction and we walk to French class together. Luckily the teacher hasn't started the lesson yet, so when we enter, he doesn't say anything or even looks up to address us. I sit in my usual seat, and Kevin sits beside me.

I can't help my mind, I'm fully distracted. Not only because of Kevin, but also because of everything happening. Grandpa is abducted by Amperon and in possible danger, while we're here, going on about our daily lives without a care in the world. I know the school day is almost over, and frankly, I can't wait for once.

The teacher places a stack of papers to the side of his desk, clears his throat, and then stands up. He starts making notes on the chalkboard without uttering a word. I instantly pull out my notebook and start taking notes of everything he's writing, thinking it might be important and I can use it to study later. Chills crawl down my neck and spine and I stop.

I turn my head to the side, making eye contact with Kevin who is staring directly at me. His brown eyes widen, and then he quickly looks down at his desk. I silently giggle at this and look down at my notebook as well. It feels nice. Being like this. It's almost like a distraction from my daily life, and something that genuinely makes me excited just thinking about it.

The rest of the class passes by like a blur, until it's finally the end. The moment the bell rings, the teacher dismisses us without another word and I place everything in my bag. I start walking outside with Kevin.

"Levin and Gwendolyn," Mister Keatings, the teacher says. "Please, stay. I'd like to have a word."

Kevin and I share a look of confusion, and he mouths 'I didn't do anything' to me. It's amusing, but that was honestly my first thought too. I can't think of an actual reason why Mister Keatings would want to speak to the both of us.

With a lot of hesitance, we head to the front of his desk and wait patiently as he starts arranging yet another stack of papers, then places it inside his black leather briefcase.

"So, Kevin," the teacher starts. He holds a paper in front of him, and his droopy eyelids make it hard to judge his expression. "I understand you're new and you've had to take some admission tests, but I'm highly worried."

Kevin doesn't say anything, but audibly gulps instead. I can tell grades are a touchy subject.

"Your admission grades were satisfactory for some classes, but they were by far the lowest for mine. At this rate, I don't think you will be able to keep up with the rest of the school year—of course, the upcoming test will show that."

"Uh," Kevin starts.

"Hmmm," the professor interrupts Kevin and continues. "An 'F' is very problematic for my class and I might need to raise this issue to the principal. Unless…"

"Unless what?" I ask, unsure why I was asked to be here exactly.

"Gwendolyn, I would like for you to tutor Kevin."

There is a moment of silence and I blink in astonishment. It isn't the worst thing in the world, nor is it something I wouldn't do anyway if Kevin needed help, but it's definitely unexpected.

"And I'm afraid it is mandatory for Kevin to find a tutor," he continues, tapping his dirty nails on the desk. He addresses me. "It will, of course, count positively towards your grade."

I look at Kevin who still doesn't know what to say, and then back at the teacher. "All right, Mister Keatings. Yes, I'll do it."

"Excellent. You're dismissed."

The teacher turns his focus back to another stack of papers, and Kevin and I choose to walk out without uttering another word to him. We walk towards the exit of the school, and I turn to look at Kevin, who seems confused, unhappy, and obviously troubled.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he says.

We reach the car and enter it.

"Is it the tutoring thing? I promise I'm not that bad of a teacher."

"No, not just that." He places his hands on the steering wheel but doesn't start the car just yet. "I didn't expect them to take it so, um…seriously. School is not really my thing."

He is staring ahead, at the parking lot of the school and I gently place my hand on his arm to get his attention. He turns to look at me.

"It could be worse, right? Imagine if this happened for history class."

Kevin lets out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. I just don't want you to feel like you have to do this, ya know? Because I'm a hopeless student."

I squeeze his arm reassuringly and smile. "Kevin, it isn't a big deal. Besides, who said I wasn't going to help you anyway? Did you think I'd let you skip the rest of the year's French classes and tests?"

"Right." He finally starts the car, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Okay, but don't blame me if you regret it."

"You underestimate my patience."

He starts driving ahead, away from the school's parking lot.

"So, my garage, Burger Shack, or this Mr. Smoothy place?" Kevin asks. "We still need to discuss how we're going to go about all this with your grandpa."

"Maybe your garage instead. It's easier to concentrate there."

"You said it." Kevin finally drives off.

After some time, we reach the garage. We enter inside the building, I take a seat on a plastic chair, and Kevin walks to the fridge, pulling out two boxes of takeaway food.

"Here," he says, handing it over. "It's leftovers from last night—I didn't see you eating lunch at school today."

I smile and place the food on my lap. I take a bite, while Kevin sits next to me and crosses his hands behind his head.

"So, do you have any idea where we could get started searching for your grandpa?"

I grab yet another fry. "Let's see," I say as I mentally recall the lists of places we could go to. "So, we can start with going to every radio station there is in Bellwood, and then we can try Dustwood and Brenley, but that will take a while. Two hours just to get there."

I sigh in disappointment. We need to move fast, but searching through every place could take weeks.

"Hey, don't make that face," Kevin says. "We haven't even started yet. I'll drive us."

I nod and support my chin with my hand, while I hold the picture of Grandpa and me in the other. My stomach feels heavy and I shrug weakly as horrible thoughts cross my head. I try to smile and think of possible good news, but I can't. What could he be going through right now?

I'll find you, Grandpa. I promise.

I stand up and get ready to walk towards Kevin's car so we can drive off again. I look at the picture in my hands and I'm about to fold it. But I stop. My eyes widen, and I suck in a deep breath. I can't believe I've been so idiotic when the answer has been right in my hands. I place both of my bandaged palms on the picture and close my eyes.

"Uh, Gwen?" Kevin asks.

Kevin's voice fades away, though I don't do it on purpose. All of my focus is concentrated on the object in front of me and the energy flowing through it. It must have some of Grandpa's aura left in it. If it does, then I can definitely locate him. I levitate in the air along with the photograph, and cross my legs together. I keep my eyes closed and note every single thing that could point me to Grandpa's location. But there's nothing.

I try again. I know there must be something left. I know I can find him. I remain like this, pushing my mind and body to concentrate as much as possible, even if it takes me hours. I feel my body grow faint and weaker, but I feel as if I'm close—I can sense it.

"That's freaky," Kevin says.

I continue to ignore his voice, my body inching toward the entrance of the garage as I try to locate the signal. My heart beats faster, and then slows down again. This continues for a while, as my mind runs wild with anxiety since I know time isn't on our side, and I attempt to keep my concentration intact despite my worry.

I don't reply to any of Kevin's questionable looks, and he remains silent. But after a few minutes of this, he seems to lose his patience as he steps closer to me.

"I don't know if I should even touch you. Are you stuck in some sort of limbo state?"

Still nothing. It must have been at least fifteen minutes by now, but I try to persist. It's draining me, I can feel it. Although locating people with their aura doesn't usually take a lot of energy or time, it does this time due to the remnants of Grandpa's aura being so low. I feel something touch my shoulders and my focus breaks. It's all replaced by Kevin's aura. My eyes stop glowing, the picture falls onto the ground, and I land on my feet.

I turn to look at Kevin, and his face screams concern and confusion together.

"Maybe you should explain…"

"You're right, sorry," I say, dropping my shoulders. "It's my powers. I can sense people's aura and I can use this picture—" I crouch down to pick up the photograph from the floor "to track grandpa Max. That's how I found you when you were…kidnapped. If I focus hard enough and he's close enough, I can locate grandpa."

"Keyword; if he's close enough," Kevin says. "He could be in another state for all we know."

"You're right, he could. That's why it's taking so long, but I've made no progress."

"Does doing that like have some weird side effects or something?"

"Only mentally. I feel…well, numb is the best word I can use to describe it. But that's only if I use it for too long."

"Does fifteen minutes count as too long?"

"The longest I've done it is three," I explain.

"Okay, then maybe now's a good time to rest," Kevin says, pointing at the plastic chair. "You can continue after."

"It's really not that bad, you know. It's only when—"

"How about we try that tutoring thing now? Seems like a good chance, don't ya think?"

"Are you sure?" I raise an eyebrow.

He's not, but he nods regardless. I look around me, and then I walk further inside and take a seat on the plastic chair he was pointing out. I glance at the far side of the room, surprised to see the couch missing.

"Where did the couch go?"

"Oh, you know, just old junk that needed selling," Kevin says. "I'd never say no to some extra cash."

Although I'm unsure why he would need cash from a half-destroyed couch considering he has all this alien tech in his disposal, I feel relieved. The couch was filled with Denise's aura, and it only helped to bring back memories of that night, including my guilt for having to lie to everyone around me.

Kevin sits next to me, and I pull out my French textbook alongside my notebook. He scoots closer to me, and I don't miss the dread in his face as he looks at the contents of the book.

"Okay, we can start with the basics for the test," I start, opening the book to the chapter of interest. "We can build up from there then. Do you know any of the verbs?"

He shakes his head.

"Nouns?"

"Not really. Languages have never really been my thing, ya know."

I smile, trying to be encouraging, though it's tough. He's way too far behind and the test is way too demanding. "That's fine, we can still work with that. Kind of," I continue. "We can start with the basic verbs first and since we're in a rush, we can work on learning them all next time."

"Next time?" he asks.

"Duh, your performance needs to go up in general Kevin, not just for one test."

I start by reading out the verbs to him, thinking this might help him to remember them better. Yet, it doesn't take long to see the frustration creeping onto Kevin's face. He leans back in his chair and groans.

"I thought French was meant to be hot or something."

I playfully swat him on the shoulder. "Come on, at least try."

"Fine." He leans even closer. "Tell me something in French first."

"Focus, Kevin."

"I will if you do."

I push my elbow against his ribs, and he smirks, yet still drops the teasing remark.

Kevin shakes his head while lifting his hands in front of him. "My brain is officially fried. I need a break too now."

I nod, knowing I need to get back to locating grandpa Max anyways. "Yeah, a break sounds good."

We sit in silence for a moment and I place my notebooks back inside my bag. Kevin glances at me.

"Thanks, by the way," he says quietly. "For trusting me…and ya know, this."

His words make my heart beat faster. I can sense the vulnerability in the tone of his voice. "You don't need to thank me. We're a team."

Kevin nods, then stands up and moves towards some tools in his closet. I take it as a cue to start working on locating grandpa Max once again—enough wasting time. He places the tools next to his car, but he remains still.

After a moment, his muffled voice echoes, "I'm sorry for what I did in the past."

The statement hangs in the air, and I'm left unsure of what to say. The past is…complicated. We almost have a silent agreement not to speak on it.

"Kevin, you were a child," I say. "I don't excuse what you did, but I can't hold your past over you your whole life."

Kevin turns to face me, frowning. "Being a child doesn't excuse it. I spent years in the Null Void, and the moment I got out, I ended up killing your friend."

"You didn't."

"Right."

I take a step closer until our bodies are inches apart. "You didn't," I repeat. "You've changed and I trust you. You're a different person now."

He lifts his hand in the air as if he is about to touch me, but then he stares away as if something is stopping him. "Thanks," he repeats in a quiet voice.

He turns away from me, and I hold the photograph of me and Grandpa Max in my hands again. I take this as a sign that he doesn't want to continue this conversation and I understand.

"I think I've had enough resting. Time to try again."

Kevin opens his mouth to say something, but then quickly snaps it shut. He knows it has been more than twenty minutes since my (unnecessary) break. I walk towards the entrance, and Kevin doesn't take his eyes off me the whole time.

This is urgent and we both need to focus.

I ignore everything—all of my senses, the sound of the wind, the scent of Kevin's garage... I push it all to the side, focusing only on Grandpa's aura and the picture. How it feels, how it looks, how it sounds. I levitate above the ground once again, thinking of Grandpa Max. I have to find him.

The frame spins—left, right, up, down, horizontally, diagonally. It spins slowly at first, then starts moving faster and faster as the seconds pass by. It spins so fast it starts making a 'whooshing' sound, blowing a soft breeze with it. Finally, I land on the ground, and I beam with excitement.

"I found it!"

Kevin rushes to my side. "Where is it? I'll drive us there."