by Charlie Wood
After one more high-five with Chad, Tobin walked to the SUV and got in.
“Okay, we ready?” Bill asked, looking in the rear-view mirror.
“Yup,” Tobin said, putting his seatbelt on.
Bill put the truck in gear. “All right. New Hampshire, here we come.”
Bill pressed his foot to the gas and the SUV drove off down the road. Sitting in the backseat, Tobin turned around and looked back toward Jennifer and Chad through the rear windshield. They were still standing in front of Tobin’s house, watching the SUV drive away.
“Hey, Bill?” Tobin said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you could…”
Tobin thought a moment. He watched as Jennifer and Chad got smaller and smaller.
“Never mind,” the boy said, turning back to the front of the SUV. “Sorry.”
“You sure?” Bill asked.
Tobin turned around once again and watched Jennifer.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” the boy said. “Let’s keep going.”
***
Four and a half hours later, Tobin, his mother, and Bill carried the last of Tobin’s suitcases into the building that housed Tobin’s new dorm room on the campus of Pinewood University, an hour north of Boston. As they walked down the hall for what seemed like the fiftieth time, it was a chaotic scene: the building was filled with dozens of other kids and their parents, with all of them moving their boxes, plastic totes, and school supplies into the various rooms lining the hallways. Walking down to his dorm room, dragging a big, heavy suitcase behind him, Tobin had to be careful not to bump into any of the hurried, anxious strangers and stacks of plastic bins that were surrounding him.
Finally, as Tobin reached the quiet of his strange, tiny, cement-walled dorm room, he dropped the suitcase. His mother and Bill followed him inside, letting go of their own suitcases and placing them against the wall. Now, suddenly, all of the belongings from Bill’s SUV were in the cold, foreign dorm room. From the kitchen, to the SUV, and now to here, where they would stay.
“There you go,” Bill said, eyeballing the suitcases and cardboard boxes piled up near Tobin’s small, skinny bed. “That wasn’t too bad.”
“Yup,” Tobin’s mother said. Her voice was already cracking. “That’s it.”
“I guess so,” Tobin said. He looked across the room. It appeared his roommate was already unpacked and moved in, though they hadn’t seen him all day. Tobin still hadn’t met his roommate in person yet, only speaking to him a few times through awkward Facebook messages.
“Good to go,” Bill said, clapping his hands together. “You ready, honey?”
“Yeah,” Tobin’s mother replied. “I just wanna—I want to…” She reached down and began picking through one of the boxes of bathroom supplies. “Do you have everything from home, honey? Is there anything else you need? You know, if you need anything, you just tell me. Whenever you want, just call me and tell me.”
“I know, Ma,” Tobin said. “I think that’s it. I think I’m good. I got everything.”
“Are you sure?” she said. “Because I just want—”
Suddenly, as Tobin’s mother looked up at him, her eyes welled up. She stared at him, biting her lip, and then broke down. She stepped toward him and hugged him, holding him close, and crying.
Tobin laughed, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, Mom. I have everything.”
For the longest time, it had been just the two of them—him and her—but now they would no longer even be seeing each other everyday. She would no longer be cooking him breakfast on cold winter mornings, or staying up late with him to watch Conan on school nights. She wouldn’t be taking him to baseball practice and then staying afterwards to hit him grounders until the sun set, even though she barely knew how to hold a bat, and they would no longer be going to New Hampshire on vacation every summer, to go to Santa’s Village and Storyland. She wouldn’t be taking him to the movies on rainy Sunday afternoons, they wouldn’t be opening a new door on their advent calendars every day in December, and they would no longer go to the mall and get ice cream after one of Tobin’s doctor’s appointments. Many of these things no longer happened, but it did not matter. For those were the times he thought of now, when he was young and time seemed infinite.
“Be good, okay?” she said, crying. “And have fun. Have so much fun, honey. These are going to be the best days. Remember all the things I told you. And remember how hard you worked to get here.”
“I know, Mom,” Tobin said. He could feel a lump growing in his throat. “I will.”
“Just be yourself, okay?” she said. “You’re a wonderful, funny, kind person with a great personality. And you’re so bright. Don’t forget that. And be careful. Absolutely be careful. Most of all, always be careful. But have fun, too.”
Tobin laughed, still hugging her. “Okay.”
“And call me,” she said. “Every night, if you can. Or every morning, if that’s easier. I don’t care, just call me.”
“I will, Mom. I will.”
They parted. She looked her boy in the eye. “Oh, Tobin,” she said, before hugging him again. “You’re gonna do great. It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna have so much fun. You’re gonna love it.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Tobin said, squeezing her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, crying more than ever.
Knowing the best thing for them to do was to leave as soon as possible, Bill put a hand on Tobin’s mother’s shoulder.
“We better go, Cathy. Come on.”
She nodded and Bill led her out into the hall. Tobin watched them go. His mother was still wiping at her eyes. Bill turned around in the doorway.
“Good luck, Tobin,” he said. “You know where to find me if you need anything, anything at all. Call me anytime, okay? I mean that.”
“Okay,” Tobin said. “Thanks, Bill. I will.”
Tobin and Bill shook hands, and then Bill and Tobin’s mother were gone. Tobin stepped out into the hall and watched them as they walked into the elevator at the other end of the building. When the elevator doors closed, Tobin walked back into his tiny, cramped dorm room and sat on the bed.
Surrounded by the cement walls of his dorm, Tobin placed his hands on his legs and looked out into the crowded hall. It was still very loud out there, with kids and parents talking and laughing and dragging suitcases across the floor, and every few moments Tobin would see some new stranger walk by his room and look in.
He didn’t know anybody. Out of everybody out there, he didn’t know anyone.
Tobin thought about his mother. He thought about how she wasn’t going to be there when he woke up in the morning. He thought about how different this was going to be compared to the first day of high school, when he, Chad, and Jennifer had gone through the scary day together. Now, he would no longer be talking to them every day and spending over six hours with them every Monday through Friday, nine months out of every year. And, worst of all, Tobin didn’t know if he would ever see Orion, Keplar, and Scatterbolt ever again.
For the first time that he could remember since he was a little boy, Tobin placed his hands against his face and began to cry. Not because he was scared or sad or in pain. But because he was alone.
Then, suddenly, there was a CRASH! in the hallway. It sounded like at least three of the plastic totes filled with school supplies had fallen to the floor.
“I’m sorry!” a boy’s voice said from down the hall. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to get by, I’m sorry!”
Tobin sat up on the edge of his bed and wiped his tears, startled. It sounded like the boy in the hallway was coming his way.
Then, there was another CRASH! in the hall, followed by the sound of pencils and pens rolling down the floor and a girl swearing.
“Oh man, I am sorry,” the boy said again, now closer to Tobin’s room than before. “If that’s broken I will—oh man, I am so sorry, I’m so sorry. Just let me know if—oh, man…”
“It’s okay,” a girl said angrily, right outside Tobin’s room. “Just let me clean it up.”
“I’m sorry,” the boy said again. “I didn’t mean…I’m just—just let me know if that’s broken. I’ll pay for it. In payments, or something.”
Then, a second later, a boy appeared in the doorway to Tobin’s room. He was a chubby, short boy with brown hair that was big and bushy and pushed across his forehead, like he was trying to comb it stylishly but not succeeding in the slightest. He was also wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses on his face and a blue coat that was way too small—and way too warm for the end of August. At the moment, he also had the handle of an overstuffed suitcase in one hand, a massive pillow in the other hand, and a long plastic bin tucked underneath his arm, which stuck out over three feet behind him. It was this bin, Tobin realized, that had been causing all of the destruction in the hallway.
Tobin also realized this moving tornado of clumsiness was his roommate.
“Oh man, this is crazy,” the boy said, dropping the pillow and plastic bin to the floor. “I knew this was gonna be crazy, but I didn’t know it was gonna be this crazy. This is the craziest thing ever.”
Tobin quickly wiped at his tears, embarrassed to have been caught crying, but the boy across the room was completely unaware. He simply began unpacking his suitcase and plastic bin.
“My dad just dropped me off,” the boy said, “but I realized I forgot all this stuff in his car, so I had to go back and get it when he was driving away. Imagine if I forgot all this stuff? That would suck so bad. I wouldn’t have any of my bathroom stuff or conditioner or deodorant. And worst of all I wouldn’t have my Q-tips.” The boy looked up at Tobin. “I have an earwax thing. I have earwax. Well, I guess everyone has earwax, but I seem to have it more than most. But maybe I shouldn’t tell everyone that on the first day…”
The boy’s voice trailed off. As he sat cross-legged on the floor, he reached for his suitcase and unzipped it, taking out the clothes inside and piling them onto the bed.
“Did you hear me coming down the hall?” he asked. “Oh man, I feel like such an idiot. I was carrying this stupid bin and I walked right into this girl and knocked her stuff out of her hand. I’m not sure who she is, but I’m pretty sure I broke her iPad. Not good. I’ve made some bad first impressions in my time, but I think that one takes the cake.”
Tobin laughed, sitting on his bed. With a confused grin, he watched as his new roommate continued unpacking all of his stuff. Tobin hadn’t said a word yet, but it seemed his roommate was too fired up and excited to notice.
“Did you get everything unpacked?” the boy asked. “Did your parents just drop you off? My dad was here earlier but he left already. We went to Papa Gino’s for lunch. Have you ever been there before? My cousin from Providence always told me about it and it is so good. I’m so glad there’s one around here. But hopefully I don’t get fat. Do guys usually gain the freshman fifteen? I don’t know. Maybe I should ask that iPad girl as an icebreaker. But then again maybe I should just leave her alone and she’ll forget it was me that broke her iPad.”
The boy snapped his head up, his eyes wide.
“Oh! I’m such an idiot. I just came in here and didn’t even introduce myself. I just felt like we already knew each other from Facebook. I’m Lucas, obviously. But you already know that.”
Tobin laughed and stood up. They shook hands. “Yeah, I figured. I’m Tobin.”
“Yes!” Lucas said, pumping his fist. “Awesome! Oh man, this is gonna be so awesome! I knew it was you when I walked in since we only have a double. Have you ever had a roommate before?”
“No, actually,” Tobin said. “I’m an only child.”
“No way!” Lucas replied. “Me too!”
They high-fived.
“Oh man, this is gonna be awesome!” Lucas said, clapping his hands together. He raised his eyebrows. “Can you believe we are gonna be, like, living with girls and stuff? Seriously, the hottest blonde girl I’ve ever seen in person is literally right down the hall, I saw her earlier today. She’s just gonna be living there, with us, in this building, for the rest of the year! Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”
“Yeah,” Tobin replied.
“Oh, me too,” Lucas said quietly, obviously lying.
“Is Broken iPad Girl the one that’s the hottest girl ever?” Tobin asked.
“No,” Lucas replied. “Broken iPad Girl is another hot girl! They’re everywhere! Can you believe it? This is so awesome!”
Tobin laughed. He noticed something in Lucas’ suitcase. “Is that the new Larry Bird book?”
“Yeah,” Lucas replied. “Even though I’m from Pennsylvania, I love the Celtics. Do you?”
Tobin reached to the nightstand near his bed. He unrolled one of the posters he had brought from home. It was a poster of Larry Bird. “Check this out,” he said with a smile.
“No way!” Lucas said. He quickly unzipped his jacket. Underneath he was wearing a vintage, faded, Celtics T-shirt. It read: 1986 NBA CHAMPIONS. “Dude,” Lucas said, pointing to the shirt, his face completely serious. “This is gonna be awesome. This is already awesome.”
Tobin laughed. Behind him, another boy knocked on the door. Tobin knew this was Max, the building’s R.A., because they had met briefly earlier.
“Hey, guys,” Max said. “The first event of orientation is starting in a few minutes, in the tent near the enrollment building. You should head there now.”
“Okay,” Lucas said. He turned to Tobin. “I think it’s like an ice cream social or something. You wanna go?”
“Yeah,” Tobin said. “Sure.”
Five minutes later, Tobin and Lucas were walking across campus and toward the large, yellow-and-white striped tent set up in the main section of the tree-lined university.
“Dude,” Lucas said, as they walked along the cement walkway that cut across the green grass. “I have a confession to make. Did you see all those cardboard bins in our room near my desk?”
“Yeah,” Tobin replied.
“Most of those are filled with, like, comic books and stuff. Do you like superheroes?”
Tobin laughed. “Yeah, I do, actually.”
“Great,” Lucas said. “That’s a relief. This is seriously gonna be awesome.”
Tobin looked ahead. He could see that the tent was already filled with over a hundred other students, and there were also dozens of long tables underneath it, which were lined with ice cream and all kinds of hot fudge, strawberries, and other sundae toppings. A DJ in the middle of the tent was playing loud, bumping music, and some of the new students—both guys and girls—were standing on the dance floor and chatting.
“Maybe,” Tobin thought to himself, “this won’t be so bad after all.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Orion walked into his bedroom in his apartment in Quantum City and opened the closet near his bed. After quickly sorting through the clothes hanging there, he picked out his outfit for the day: a white polo shirt and dark jeans. There was also a long, red coat in the back of the closet, tucked away behind all of the other clothes, but Orion hadn’t worn the coat in a few months.
Twenty minutes away, Orion pulled up to a small, one-story house in the suburb of Viera, right outside of Quantum City. He was just about to open his car door and walk to the front of the house when he realized, as usual, Ida—the former leader of the Rytonian Rebels—was already walking across the front yard and toward his car.
“You ready?” Ida asked, opening the car door and getting in.
“Yeah,” Orion replied. “I was thinking we could stop and get some breakfast before we go. What do you think?”
“Sure,” Ida said with a smile. “That sounds great.”
After their breakfast at Ida’s favorite diner, Orion parked his car and he and Ida walked into the front entrance of a large, warm, welcoming building in the southern section of Quantum City, nestled between a park and a high school. The sign above the building read:
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br /> QUANTUM CITY HOME AND LEARNING CENTER FOR GIFTED CHILDREN.
At the front desk of the learning center, Orion and Ida were greeted by Barbara, the dark-haired, heavy-set woman who ran the orphanage.
“Oh, hi Orion! Hi Ida! How are you? Thank you for coming again, the kids will be so excited to see you. How was the drive in?”
“Not too bad,” Orion said. “I think we missed most of the morning traffic. Who do you have for us today?”
Barbara looked down at a folder on her desk. “Well, Ida, I thought you could meet with Sarah again this morning, since you two hit it off so well last week. What do you think?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ida said, taking Sarah’s folder. “That’d be great.”
Barbara grinned as she handed Orion another folder. “And Orion, I have a new boy I’d like you to meet today. His name’s Andrew. He’s six years old and just arrived two days ago. He’s having a bit of trouble settling in and is not too happy to be here.”
“Okay,” Orion said, looking down at the paper in the folder. “I can do that.”
“Are you sure?” Barbara asked. “He’s a real handful, I’m warning you.”
Orion smiled. “I think I can handle him.”
***
On the third floor of the orphanage, Orion walked down the hallway, looking for the room number on the file Barbara had handed him. However, he didn’t need to look for long: ahead of him, only a few doors away, he heard a loud CRASH!, which was shortly followed by a ball of ice shooting out of an open door and shattering against the wall.
“I don’t want to be here!” a boy’s voice shouted from the open room. “I don’t want to be here!”
After carefully looking out for more ice projectiles, Orion stepped into the room. He immediately noticed the room was forty degrees colder than the rest of the orphanage, and its walls and furniture were also covered with a thin coating of snow. On the bed in the middle of the room, there was a small dark-skinned boy, about six years old. He was jumping up and down on the bed, and pounding his fists against his legs. His fingers and hands were blue, and coated with ice.
