Cassie Johnson had mastered the art of looking normal.
Normal walk.
Normal smile.
Normal laughter.
Hands relaxed.
Eyes forward.
No sudden emotions.
Because sudden emotions caused… problems.
Oakridge Elementary roared with its usual morning chaos — backpacks thudding against lockers, children calling across hallways, the sharp whistle of a teacher demanding order that would never truly come.
"Cassie!! Wait up!"
Cassie didn't need to turn to know it was Marisa Mohadele. Only Marisa ran like the world was ending just to say good morning.
Marisa skidded to a stop beside her.
"You are NOT going to believe what Baker wore to school today."
Cassie raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… confidence?"
Marisa burst out laughing. "I wish. Pink boots. Bright pink. With our uniform."
Cassie smiled. Being around Marisa made pretending easier.
Safer.
Marisa linked her arm through Cassie's.
"You're coming to my house after school. My mom is making those chocolate chip cookies you like."
Cassie hesitated.
Her parents had rules.
Strict ones.
No visiting crowded homes.
No sleepovers.
No emotional stress.
No attention.
"I'll ask," Cassie said carefully.
Before Marisa could respond, a familiar voice drifted toward them.
"Oh look… it's Pocket Girl."
Cassie's shoulders stiffened.
Baker Rehanile approached with the effortless swagger of someone who had never once doubted her place in the world. Beside her walked Troy Tempsone — tall for his age, relaxed, carrying that quiet popularity that made teachers trust him and students admire him.
Baker tilted her head.
"You know it's weird, right?"
Marisa sighed loudly. "Good morning to you too, Baker."
Baker ignored her, eyes fixed on Cassie.
"You always keep your hands shoved in that hoodie like you're hiding something."
Cassie slowly pulled one hand out.
"Happy?"
Baker studied her for a long moment… then smiled.
"Not really."
Troy nudged Baker lightly. "Come on. Leave her alone."
"I'm just making conversation," Baker replied sweetly.
"By being annoying?" Marisa shot back.
Troy chuckled.
Cassie tried to step around them.
Then Baker moved too — blocking her path again.
"So, Cassie," Baker said casually, "why don't you ever invite anyone over?"
Cassie felt a small ripple of heat crawl across her fingertips.
Stay calm.
"My parents are private," she answered.
"Private," Baker repeated. "That's one word for it."
The hallway lights flickered.
Just once.
Cassie saw it.
No one else seemed to.
She curled her fingers slightly.
Breathe.
Baker leaned closer.
"My brother says your house barely uses electricity. Like you people are scared of it or something."
Marisa frowned. "Okay that's creepy. Why is your brother investigating her house?"
"He notices things," Baker said with a shrug.
Troy looked between them. "You guys are acting like she's a spy."
Baker smirked. "Maybe she is."
The warmth in Cassie's hands sharpened.
A locker door nearby rattled softly.
She shoved both hands into her pockets.
Now.
Marisa grabbed Cassie's arm gently. "We're going to be late."
As they walked away, Baker called after her—
"Try not to disappear on us, Pocket Girl!"
—
By lunchtime, Cassie thought the day might actually pass without incident.
She was wrong.
The cafeteria buzzed with noise, trays clattering, chairs scraping.
Marisa talked nonstop.
"And then Mr. Halpern literally spelled 'banana' wrong on the board. Twice. I mean— how do you even become a teacher if—Cassie? Are you listening?"
Cassie stared at her milk carton.
It trembled.
Just slightly.
She pressed her sneaker against it to steady it.
"Yeah… I'm listening."
"Are you sure? You look like you're calculating rocket science."
Cassie forced a small laugh.
Across the room, Baker whispered something to Troy.
They both glanced over.
Troy didn't look mean.
Just… curious.
Cassie reached for her metal spoon.
The moment her fingers touched it—
A sharp vibration ran through it.
She dropped it instantly.
CLINK.
"You okay?" Marisa asked.
"Static," Cassie said quickly. "Happens sometimes."
"Static?" Marisa repeated. "From a spoon?"
Cassie shrugged. "Cheap cafeteria stuff."
Marisa accepted that answer far too easily.
Cassie wished everyone did.
Above them, the cafeteria lights dimmed for half a second.
A teacher groaned. "Not again… maintenance was just here."
Cassie stared down at her tray.
Don't think about it.
Don't feel it.
Don't react.
Because reacting made it stronger.
—
After school, students spilled outside in loud waves of freedom.
Cassie inhaled the cool air deeply.
Out here felt easier.
Less wiring.
Less pressure.
Marisa bumped her shoulder. "So… cookies?"
"I'll ask my mom."
"You always say that," Marisa teased. "One day I'm just going to show up at your house."
Cassie's heart skipped.
Please don't.
Before she could answer, a basketball rolled across the pavement and stopped near her foot.
Troy jogged over.
"Hey," he said, slightly out of breath. "Can you pass that?"
Cassie bent to pick it up.
The instant she lifted it—
A pulse shot through her palms.
Stronger than usual.
The ball jerked.
Like it had been pushed from inside.
Troy blinked.
"Whoa… did you feel that?"
Cassie quickly tossed it to him.
"Feel what?"
He caught it slowly, studying her.
"…Nothing."
But his expression said he wasn't convinced.
Baker shouted from the court, "Troy! Hurry up!"
He lingered a second longer.
Then ran back.
Cassie watched him go, unease settling in her chest.
For the first time…
someone had almost noticed.
Marisa stretched beside her. "You ready to walk?"
Cassie nodded.
As they started down the sidewalk, a sudden surge rippled through her body.
Not painful.
Not violent.
Just powerful.
A streetlight above them flickered — though it wasn't even dark yet.
Cassie stopped walking.
Something was changing.
She could feel it.
Growing.
Like a storm learning how to breathe.
"Cassie?" Marisa asked. "You coming?"
Cassie looked at her best friend — completely unaware… completely safe in her normal world.
"I'm coming," Cassie said softly.
But as they walked away from the school, one thought pressed heavily into her mind:
How long can I keep pretending to be normal…
when normal is slipping further away every day?