I snap out of my lazy, irritated mood when I see a man moving with his entourage to a row of parked cars. K notices and stops being annoying.

His entourage of people whom I well presume to be highly trained security agents even though they weren’t dressed like it looks around the perimeter.

Scouring it with their eyes before each disappearing into the cars. They must have been looking around for a sniper gun. Unknown to McVey and some of the unlucky bodyguards that are riding with him that they are riding in their own coffins. They and the car is about to become nothing but a massive explosion and a piles of ashes after.

"Show time." I say, and press the detonator button. I had set the timer for it to explode two minutes after detonation.

The magic happened right after. The car going up in huge flames with a massive beautiful blast.

GWENETH

I was cooped up in my room all day. Dealing with the guilt of yelling at Dad earlier. I made it seem like he is at fault when he isn’t. He is acting like any normal parent would.

He had left home right after our talk. He said that he understood me.

But he couldn’t promise to ignore it and let me handle it like I said. Him understanding me meant a lot. But he also needs to really understand that interfering would be catastrophic. I don’t want that. By the time everyone came back home and we were having dinner,

my mood had greatly improved. There is not much that determination cannot fix. I didn’t immediately fall asleep.

I was awake imagining how my school life would have been had I not put myself in Calyx’s way. Those thoughts were shattered by a soft knock on my door.

I open it to see Dad there. "Hey." He greeted.

I also responded "Hey."

"I figured you would be awake."

"Yeah. I can’t sleep." I say.

"Me too. I’m dealing with arrhythmia having to keep this a secret from your mother and doing nothing like you asked."

"Wait. You’re going to—"

"I did not say so yet." He deadpans.

"Right."

"Come out to the treehouse. I’II be waiting for you there. And you might want to put some pillows under the covers just in case your mom gets one of her wierd dreams and wakes up from her induced sleep to come and check on you."

"Check on me? Why would she?" I ask.

"It seems you are not aware. Which means she must have been discreet."

I learned from him that mother had been keeping up a tradition of coming to check on me when I’m asleep. I had no idea. Dad tells me that she woke up one night and told him that she had a wierd dream about me.

And she has been doing that ever since. "How long has this been?" I ask him. "About, four weeks now? I know your mom comes across as the type to not care much but she actually does. I’d say she is like a wild coconut. Tough on the outside. Not so tough within." He answers.

Four weeks. That is right around the time my troubles started. Could mom be feeling it too? That I wasn’t doing okay at school? If so then all the more reason she shouldn’t know.

"Genetics is indeed great." He remarks. "It makes you feel connected to each other."

"I had no idea." It is a shocking thing, really.

Because we hadn’t really spoken in weeks now.

What precedes that is her yelling at me to go ahead and ruin my life on a dick. The only thing we do is question and answer. She asks a question, I answer. When I do, she also answers but sometimes flats out ignores me. She is still mad about that news of a boyfriend.

Dad had tried his best in trying to intercede and getting her to stop her silent treatment towards me. I told him to give up because it didn’t work. At this point, Lamont has become more than just the source of my troubles. He is the whole south in my life.

I find Dad at the treehouse, sitting crossed legged on the wooden floor with a pen and a notepad. I sit too besides him. "The reason I called you out here is to discuss. It is going to be lengthy. If you feel tired and not up for it, you can go sleep."

"I’m fine." Sleep is now like a struggle for me anyway. I might as well start stealing mom’s sleeping pills for myself. I brace myself, wondering what the discussion would be about specifically. Would he do as I say, or

would he not?

"Okay so—this is going to be like an interrogating session. So be sure to answer truthfully and sincerely." I nod okay. It sounds a little fun.

"Why are you being bullied? What for? I want a specific answer." He says forwardly.

"Calyx, he hates the fact that I defended Maverick and called him out on his bullying." Dad stares at me like he is expecting another reason. He soon realizes that it wasn’t forthcoming. "That is all?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain? Think." He urges me.

"I am sure. That is all. I didn’t do anything to offend him beyond that. What is this interrogation about?"

"If I am going to do like you asked me to and not tell your mom, then we have to figure out the motive. Find the pattern and use it to counteract. This is just like warfare. The enemy always has a tactic and a motive. It can be used against them."

He is in total detective mood.

"I don’t get it."

"Listen kiddo, we all went to highschool. And when I was in highschool, I witnessed a lot of bullying. There is always a motive. Or a grudge. How big the motive and grudge is determines the duration of the bullying. If the bully is just going for fun, it is short. They move on from you to someone else quickly. Hardcore bullies are never satisfied with one victim. If they are going for a grudge, it is longer.

You said this has been happening for how long again?"