Virgil pulled up to the Tuttle house for the last first-day he and Charlie would have at Summerton. The thought was oddly bittersweet. He'd been dreaming about reaching that stage of high school for so long, and now that he was there, he felt…a little sad.

Nope. It was the song. He reached out to change the selection from the CD he burned, which he named Chaos Theory, courtesy of the Jurassic Park movie night he had with Charlie. It was the perfect name and playlist to accurately describe his high school experience thus far.

A thump onto his hood made him glance up, and he saw a black-and-white blur move across the windshield.

Virgil groaned. "Oh, no."

Al, Charlie's monster of a cat. Virgil was the only one who called him that because the cat hated it. Since Charlie babied him to the moon and back, Al preferred being called "Albert." But, sour history aside, Virgil would've felt weird calling something so small by a name that belonged to an old man. (No offense, Mr. Einstein.)

Last year, when he and Charlie were making the communicator for the cat, Charlie brought him over to Virgil's house one afternoon and Virgil caught the little beast trying to get at Amy's hamster. He swiped at him briefly to scare him away, but he never could've predicted the cat remembered that. The first thing Al said to him when the communicator worked was, "Don't like*."*

Oh, the good old days. When the sentences were much shorter.

Al leapt from the hood to the passenger's side window with a light clack of claws. Perched like a gargoyle, tail flicking with purpose, he lowered his face inside the car. He meowed, and the light on his translator turned green after it processed the sound.

"You late this morning," the communicator crackled.

Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. Sounded like Charlie upgraded the programming so Al could say you. He gave the cat an exasperated look. "Hello to you too, evil Furby."

Al's head tilted slightly. "Shirt is wrinkled."

Virgil looked down. His shirt was wrinkled. "Okay, that's not fair. You don't even wear—never mind. Where's your owner?"

"On the way." Another meow, followed by a continuation of the outfit inspection. "You…look mediocre."

The cat's voice box distorted the sarcasm just enough to make it worse.

"That's what we're doing with our latest upgrade?" Virgil asked. "Attacking the guy that made that talking possible for you? What are you even doing out here?"

"Looking at the weather."

"Go do that from a sunbeam like a normal cat."

Just then, the front door opened, and Charlie bounded out, backpack bouncing, hair slightly damp from the world's fastest shower. He paused when he saw Al on the window-sill.

"Albert!" he called. "Come back inside!"

Al gave Virgil one last look, tail swaying in what felt like a passive-aggressive manner, and meowed. "Have a bad day."

Virgil frowned; he wasn't sure if he heard correctly or if the communicator was acting up. To be fair, he wouldn't be surprised if the cat actually meant that. Al jumped off the car, sauntering away with another tail flick that felt like the equivalent of a mic-drop.

"See you when I get home, Albert!" Charlie waved then slid into the passenger seat, breathing hard. "Sorry. He figured out how to open the basement door again. I swear he's smarter than most of the students at school."

"Well, your highly intelligent and emotionally manipulative cat called me mediocre before I've had a chance to wake up—Speaking of which," Virgil said as he pulled away from the curb, "the new update gives him bigger words too?"

"Yeah, beta testing's going great!" Charlie said brightly. "The translator still can't distinguish when Albert tries to say I, but he can say—"

"You, I heard."

"It's been useful having a companion to talk about my latest invention with."

Virgil mentally braced himself; Charlie was about to start a whole spiel, there was no way getting around it.

"This isn't about sauce again, is it?"

"Cocktail sauce. And no, it's not about that. It's about—Well, I'll wait until tomorrow before I tell you. I've been working on the calculations all summer. I had to simulate paradox loops using a mirror system and route the math through Summerton's old cloud backup—don't ask—but today I'll find out if it works by using one of the Science Club's computers. The formula's clean. It's just a matter of testing."

Virgil had no idea what he was saying and he just blinked. "So while I was adding music to my new iPod, you were…..what?" He had tried to think of the most insane invention from a movie. Using an example from one of Charlie's favorite movies felt appropriate. "Building the DeLorean in your backyard?"

"You could say that," Charlie said with an amused grin. "But, ah! Stop it! I'm not telling you more right now!"

"Hey, that's fine by me."

They talked school schedules instead. Charlie apparently had study hall for two class periods, courtesy of Principal Tolkan. He absolutely loved how the cat communicator brought good PR to the school what with all the articles and dedicated news segments. He figured if he gave Charlie free reign to use the Science Club's equipment and he came up with something else, he'd be able to get more funding for the school. All Virgil could think was that he could've been spared the judgment from that despicable cat that morning if he'd known he didn't need to pick Charlie up.

"Oh! It looks like we're both in Home Ec for fourth," Charlie mentioned casually.

Virgil wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. On one hand, Charlie's inventions occasionally exploded. On the other…he might be good at creative recipes? He tried to remain optimistic, even though optimism hadn't been working out well so far today.

When it came to Virgil's schedule, his only gripe with it was health and PE during A-days in their school's A/B class system. He had health before lunch and PE after, and it was concerning. Word on the street was that it was common to throw up after watching a birthing video during the "babies" section of the course. He worried that on those days, he'd probably end up fainting in PE from not having anything in his stomach.

Virgil pulled into the parking lot, wondering if he should care about that in his last year of high school. Should he just throw in the towel and say "screw it," starting right then and there? Sporting a wrinkled shirt on his first day of school would be a good way to start going out with a bang, right?

…Nah, he couldn't do it. He could feel Charlie frown at him as he started to unbutton the wrinkled shirt he'd layered over his long-sleeve.

"What? Your cat made me feel self-conscious." Virgil tossed the button up in his back-seat. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, I can't wait to get into the lab."

Charlie was prattling off his to-do list for when he reached it, or something like that. Virgil wasn't sure. He spotted Derek's truck and was paying attention to the students around them, making sure he wouldn't run into him or Stephanie on the way in. As they approached the main entrance, a familiar engine rev broke his concentration. Zeke Thompson was bringing his motorcycle up on the sidewalk, as opposed to the designated motorcycle spots.

Virgil was sure he was breaking some kind of rule, but as always, he wasn't gonna start mouthing off. Zeke was the tallest person in school, towering over the teachers even, but what made him scary was the constant anger in his eyes. The thought of even greeting him made Virgil feel like Zeke would just stomp on him for wasting his time.

"Hey! You can't do that—!" Charlie started to reprimand the guy, much to Virgil's absolute horror. He wanted a chance to have a life after high school, thank you very much, so he immediately slapped a hand over Charlie's mouth.

"That's a great bike." He gestured with his other hand. "Lots of shiny, chrome, gear-y looking parts."

He barely heard Charlie's hmmph! against his hand as he attempted to barter for their lives. Zeke was staring at them, at least, that's what it felt like. Virgil couldn't be sure because he hadn't taken his helmet off yet. "You know, I was thinking about getting a bike myself, I really like the idea of just, speeding down a highway on a death trap—not that your gorgeous specimen of a machine is a death trap! I'm sure, with my luck, I'd end up accidentally choosing a death trap."

The tall menace finally took his helmet off, shaking his dark hair from his piercing blue eyes. He looked at Virgil in a way that implied he wouldn't mind running him down with the motorcycle if it meant he'd stop talking.

Noted. Virgil gave a definitive nod and pointed at the main entrance.

"We're just gonna go."

As they walked away, he smacked Charlie on the shoulder. "Do you have a death wish?! That guy could fold you in half with his bare hands, Charlie! Your cat already gave me a hard time this morning, please try not to get me killed, too."

"…Fine."

"Thank you. I'll see you at lunch."

Jeanette couldn't stop jittering as she'd gotten ready for school. Every few minutes, she hummed a tune on the spot with no real structure, just playful sounds that matched her buzzing mood. It was the first day of a brand-new school year, and she was set on collecting every good moment like the little plants she gathered on her bird-watching trips.

But if she was honest, she was more excited about seeing her magpie than anything else.

Her stomach did a happy cartwheel as his determined, hazel eyes came to mind. She wondered if he managed to make anything over the summer, how the little kitty was doing, and made a mental note to seek him and Goldfinch out during lunch. That gave her all the more reason to dress her absolute best.

She settled on a rich purple blouse with puffy sleeves, layering it with one of her favorite vests—gray with a red plaid pattern she'd sewn together. Her hair was tucked into two space buns, and they popped under a thrifted cabbie cap she absolutely fell in love with when she first laid eyes on it. Compared to her other caps, it had the right amount of poof she wanted for the day. After adding a few of her favorite silver necklaces, she was ready to go. She felt like a walking art-piece and was ready to take on the world!

She had tried explaining to her mom once how designing her outfits from scratch was more satisfying for her than buying anything from department stores. Her mom hadn't totally gotten it—neither did her dad, for that matter—but she was thankful that both her parents were supportive of her passion. Goose had come to recognize Jeanette's preferences for fabrics and practically memorized the aisles at the fabric store by now.

There was a small breakfast spread on the island in the kitchen. Jeanette nearly slid past it in her excitement to rush out the door and start school as soon as possible. She grabbed a piece of toast, waved goodbye to the chef, and skipped outside towards Goose's Lexus. She bounced high, imagining that with each step, she was closer to soaring into the morning sky. Outside, the car was waiting for her in its usual spot, and her confidant was holding two Starbucks drinks. Of course, he'd know she'd skipped out on having a decent breakfast that morning.

"Good morning, Goose!" Jeanette chirped.

"Mornin', Mav." Short for Maverick. After spending an afternoon thrifting last year, the pair talked about flying, birds, planes and the movie Top Gun. After hearing the plot, Jeanette dubbed him Goose because it just fit, and he'd barely blinked before replying, "Then that makes you Maverick."

The names stuck, secret codenames just for them, and it officially made him more than just her family's chauffeur. Jeanette wouldn't have it any other way.

"You ready to hit the skies today?"

Jeanette smiled. "Always!"

She sipped her drink as Goose pulled away from the curb, the rising sun casting vibrant shades of orangey-red hues in the mountain clouds. She leaned back against the cool leather seat, the scenery rolling by in a blur of color. Today was going to be a perfect day, the kind you folded up and tucked into your pocket like a lucky feather.

By the time she reached the school, her heart was still light from the ride. The studio itself smelled like lavender floor polish—her favorite scent—and excitement. Girls milled around in their soft-pink and baby-blue tees, laughing in small groups. Jeanette's smile didn't waver; they were all future potential friends. She scanned the room, her gaze floating from face to face, when she saw a girl with hair that fell lower than hers. It was so black, it looked like it was reflecting the fluorescent lights from above, like moonlight shining off a pond.

Oooh, pretty. She couldn't stop herself; her smile grew and she waved. The girl frowned slightly—me?—and glanced around. Jeanette hopped through the studio, space buns bouncing with each step.

"Ohmigosh hi! I just wanted to tell you that I love your hair! It's so long and silky."

She looked taken aback. "Oh, um. Thank you. I like what you did with yours too."

Jeanette beamed. Score one for unexpected morning kindness! She was about to launch into her favorite fact about how hair actually insulated bird nests sometimes (seriously, it's fascinating) when Mrs. Allen's voice swooped in from across the studio.

"Good morning class! How's everyone feeling this morning?"

Jeanette answered with an enthusiastic "Great!" even though she wasn't sure anyone could hear her over the half-tired groaning. She was used to it.

"I know, I know. It feels like it's way too early after having a nice, long summer break," Mrs. Allen empathized. "We're going to do an activity called 'Mirror Freeze' to kind of help us get the blood flowing and to get know each other. Then we'll go into dress policy and briefly touch on the dance performance we'll be involved in later this year."

A dance performance? How fun! She could already imagine the flowy dresses, choreography that made their dresses twirl like colorful bird wings—it was too exciting to think about! Jeanette made a note to tell Goose they'd need to go dress shopping.

"I want you all to choose a partner—"

Jeanette looked up at her new friend as the girl looked down, and something just clicked. It reminded her of that nature documentary she saw a while ago, and how two puffins bobbed their heads in perfect sync. A mutual pick. Wordless, yet loud in all the best ways.

"—don't worry, I see all the regular clothes and the jeans. We won't need to do anything too intense," Mrs. Allen reassured. "Go ahead and spread out, you can leave your bags against the wall."

Jeanette eyed the corner at the far end of the studio and led the way there.

"By the way, what's your name?"

"I'm Jeanette."

"I'm Lexi."

How curious—Lexi. Kind of like Goose's Lexus. Jeanette was now determined to believe she was meant to meet her today. She straightened and leaned up to Lexi, scanning her face. Her eyes were like pools of caramel, light and with a sweetness that brought to mind a very particular bird.

"You remind me of a chickadee."

Lexi blinked. "…Huh?"

"Oh, I love birds," Jeanette clarified quickly, and made a little hand-bird gesture. "Big birds, little birds. I'm even the official secretary for the local chapter of the Junior Bird Buddies of America. It's such an honor!"

"That's fun. Do you like to go on hikes to bird watch? Is that something the Junior Bird Buddies do?" Lexi gave the smallest, amused smile. Inquisitive and playful—just like a chickadee.

Jeanette lit up. "We do! Birding is—"

Mrs. Allen clapped her hands together. "Okay, ladies! Now that you're all spread out and ready, let me give you the instructions on how you play 'Mirror Freeze!'"

Jeanette bounced slightly on her toes, ready for whatever this was. First day, first class, first new friend. She was already winning.

Author's Note: Let's not forget, CHARLIE MENTIONED HE CAN TALK TO HIS CAT? It's a shame it was never mentioned again. Could have been hilarious.