The days after the tests blurred together.
Not because they were busy, but because no two days were ever the same.
Every morning Peter woke up wondering what his body would decide to do next.
Some mornings, nothing happened at all.
Other mornings...
Not so much.
Peter stood in the middle of one of Summerland's training rooms while Cary scribbled something into a notebook.
The room itself was simple—rubber flooring, a few shelves filled with everyday objects, and thick reinforced walls that Cary insisted were "just a precaution."
Peter wasn't sure if that was supposed to make him feel better.
"So," Cary said, looking up from his notes. "How are you feeling today?"
Peter shrugged.
"Normal."
Cary smiled.
"I've learned that 'normal' means something different for you."
Peter laughed quietly.
"Fair enough."
Cary picked up a tennis ball and placed it on a table.
"Let's not overthink it today. Just see if you can move this."
Peter stared at the ball.
Nothing.
He focused harder.
Still nothing.
After nearly a minute he let out a frustrated sigh.
"I've got nothing."
"That's okay."
"No, it's not."
Peter rubbed the back of his neck.
"I did all this crazy stuff a few days ago, and now I can't move a tennis ball."
Cary closed his notebook.
"Peter... whatever's happening to you doesn't seem to work on command."
"Great."
"I didn't say it was easy."
Peter shook his head with a small smile.
"I'm beginning to hate that word."
As he turned to leave...
The tennis ball rolled off the table by itself.
Both of them stopped.
It bounced once across the floor before coming to a rest near Peter's foot.
Peter slowly looked back.
"I swear that wasn't me."
Cary couldn't hide his grin.
"I believe you."
After lunch Peter escaped outside.
Summerland was quieter than usual.
The breeze carried the smell of pine through the trees, and for the first time in days his head wasn't pounding.
"Thought I'd find you here."
Peter turned.
Syd walked over with two cans of soda tucked under one arm.
She tossed him one.
"You disappear every afternoon."
"It's quieter."
"I figured."
She sat beside him on the porch steps.
For a while neither of them spoke.
It wasn't awkward.
Just comfortable.
Peter opened the soda.
"I feel like everyone keeps waiting for me to do something."
Syd looked ahead.
"They are."
He sighed.
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."
"You don't have to."
He glanced at her.
"You know what Cary told me when I first got here?"
Peter shook his head.
"He said healing isn't a race."
She smiled.
"I ignored him, obviously."
Peter laughed.
"I can believe that."
"But he was right."
She nudged his shoulder.
"You've spent your whole life not knowing what was wrong."
"You've been here less than a week."
"You don't have to figure yourself out overnight."
Peter stared at the trees.
"I just wish my powers got that memo."
The next morning Melanie suggested they forget training altogether.
Instead, she asked Peter to go for a walk.
"No tests?" he asked.
"No tests."
"No machines?"
She smiled.
"Just conversation."
They wandered along one of the trails behind Summerland.
"So," Melanie said, "what's changed since the other day?"
Peter thought about it.
"I'll try to make something move..."
"...and electricity comes instead."
"Then I'll think I've got the electricity figured out..."
"...and suddenly I'm hearing things."
"Thoughts," Melanie corrected gently.
Peter nodded.
"I can't tell what's mine anymore."
She was quiet for a moment.
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think you're trying too hard to separate them."
Peter frowned.
"I don't understand."
"Maybe they aren't separate."
"They're all coming from the same place."
Peter looked down at his hands.
"The problem is..."
"I don't know where that place is."
Later that afternoon Syd convinced Peter to play cards with a few of the other residents.
It felt good to do something normal.
For twenty whole minutes...
Nothing strange happened.
Peter actually relaxed.
Then, as he reached for a card, the entire deck lifted off the table.
Every single card hung in the air.
Nobody moved.
Peter's eyes widened.
"Oh..."
The cards slowly spun above their heads before fluttering back down like oversized snowflakes.
Silence.
Finally Syd picked one off her shoulder.
"...Well."
She looked at Peter.
"I was winning anyway."
The tension broke instantly.
Everyone laughed.
Even Peter.
"I didn't mean to."
"I know."
She handed him one of the cards.
"But next time, try cheating the normal way."
That evening Peter found himself standing near the cliffs overlooking the valley.
The sunset painted the sky orange and gold.
Birds drifted through the wind with effortless grace.
He couldn't stop watching them.
"You've been staring at them for five minutes."
Syd's voice made him smile.
"They make it look easy."
"What does?"
He hesitated.
"Flying."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Specific."
"I keep dreaming about it."
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Peter watched another bird ride the wind.
Without thinking...
He leaned forward.
His feet left the ground.
Only a few inches.
Just enough.
Syd noticed first.
"...Peter."
He looked at her.
"What?"
"Don't look down."
His eyes dropped anyway.
His stomach flipped.
The moment he realized he wasn't standing anymore, he fell straight back onto the grass.
Syd burst into laughter
For another few minutes either of them said much.
They stayed by the overlook, watching the last of the sunlight disappear behind the mountains. The sky slowly faded from orange to deep blue, and one by one the stars began to appear.
Peter rested his arms on the fence, letting out a slow breath.
"I think today was the weirdest day I've had in a while."
Syd laughed softly.
"Considering your week, that's saying something."
He smiled.
"I guess it is."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
Peter found himself looking back up at the sky, wondering if one day flying would feel as natural as walking. The thought didn't scare him as much as it used to.
"Come on," Syd said, pushing herself away from the fence. "If we're late for curfew again, Melanie's going to give us that look."
Peter chuckled.
"The one where she doesn't say anything, but somehow you still feel guilty?"
"Exactly."
They started back toward Summerland, taking their time along the trail. The porch lights glowed warmly through the trees, welcoming them back.
Inside, the halls were quiet. A few lights still burned under doorways, but most of the residents had already turned in for the night.
Syd stopped outside her room.
"Try not to accidentally float in your sleep."
Peter rolled his eyes.
"I'll do my best."
She smiled.
"Night, Peter."
"Night, Syd."
Peter made his way to his own room and closed the door behind him.
For the first time since arriving at Summerland, the silence didn't feel lonely.
He changed into a T-shirt, climbed into bed, and stared at the ceiling for a while.
His powers still didn't make sense.
His memories were still scattered.
There were still far more questions than answers.
But tonight felt different.
For the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe... just maybe... things were starting to make sense.
Before long, his eyes grew heavy.
Within minutes, Peter drifted off to sleep, while outside the wind carried quietly through the trees surrounding Summerland