Samuel stepped through the front door, let it shut behind him with a dull thud, and exhaled like he'd been holding his breath all day.
"I'm home!" he called out automatically.
Silence.
Right. Michael was at work.
He rubbed the back of his neck and dropped his bag by the door. I kinda forgot, he thought. After the day he'd just had, remembering anything outside the cafeteria felt like asking his brain to run a marathon uphill.
Mentally, he was cooked.
It all changed since Thad talked to me.
Ever since Thad opened his mouth, it's like I got slapped with a social tax. Suddenly, everyone wanted in.
Before, I was good with giving one or two-word answers—happy just observing people around me, or zoning out completely like background noise. No pressure. No expectations.
Soon as I walked in, they were all smiling. Asking stuff. Acting like we'd known each other for years.
I didn't trust it for a second.
But it wasn't all bad.
Some of the TV characters I used to want to talk to—ones I'd watched for years but could never figure out what to say if I ever met them—suddenly came over to me.
I even ended up talking to a couple of the karate kids I grew up watching. Real-life versions of people I used to imitate in front of my mirror when I thought nobody was home.
They asked if I wanted to join their dojo.
When I told them, "I'll think about it," they were surprisingly more chill about it than I expected. No ego. No pressure. They just nodded and said, "Of course. Let us know."
Fuck. The dojo seems so cool.
I always loved it—used to dream about being part of something like that. But now?
Now I'm stuck.
Because since Thad basically blackmailed the Dean into creating an archery club just for me, I can't exactly turn around and go, "Nah, never mind." I think the whole school would kill me if that happened.
Or worse… Thad might smack me on the ass again.
He told me that's how teammates greet each other.
I'm still not convinced that's a real rule.
Flasback
He'd smacked me in front of half the hallway, yelling, "Welcome to the team, baby!" like we were in some low-budget 90s sports movie. I froze. Dead in my tracks. My soul left my body for a second.
And then—just as I was still trying to process that nonsense—Cassie and Maddy walked by. Laughing. Whispering. From the look in their eyes, they'd either seen it or heard about it. Probably both.
Cassie didn't even hesitate. Smack.
Then Maddy followed. Smack.
I turned so fast, ready to say something—anything—but the way they were already laughing made my brain short-circuit. I must've looked like I got jump-scared by a cheer squad.
Cassie winked over her shoulder. "We're teammates now, right?"
I just stood there blinking like a confused NPC.
Okay, I'd thought, so the slapping thing goes both ways.
I think I might like this team after all.
end flashback
Later that afternoon, I was in the backyard with my bow, earphones in, phone tucked into my pocket. I opened the playlist—the one I'd been building since I got his phone—and hit shuffle. No real plan. Just let the music pick for me.
The first song hit, and I smiled. It didn't exist here. None of them did.
Each time a new track came on, something I knew shouldn't be possible, I found myself humming along. Quietly, under my breath. Like it was just me and the beat and the arrows.
I'd set up makeshift targets—paper plates, a couple of plastic bottles, and a cardboard box with a badly drawn smiley face. Nothing serious. Just something to aim at.
The air was cooler in the shade, and the rhythm of shooting slowly pulled me out of my head. Each thwack of an arrow hitting something halfway solid felt like breathing again.
No cafeteria. No stares. No random slaps.
Just music, movement, and space to think.
As the last arrow sank into the smiley face's eye, a new song began—one I hadn't heard in years.
I hummed the first few lines without thinking.
Dunphy's house
Claire had just pulled into the driveway with Haley, Alex, and Luke all packed into the backseat. The moment the car stopped, Luke launched out like a missile, racing to the front door.
Phil was already inside, waiting—arms open, energy high.
"Talk to me, legends!" he shouted, arms raised like he was hosting a game show. "Did anyone make history today, break a record, or at least win a staring contest?"
Haley walked in behind Luke, casually tossing her bag on the floor. "Well, Luke just ran farther into the house than Alex did in P.E. today."
Alex didn't even look up at first, just flipped a page in the book she'd been reading.
Then, calmly, "No. I figured the test was just some placement. If I ranked the lowest, I'd be in the easiest class to earn higher grades."
Haley blinked. "Wait… that's actually kind of smart."
Alex shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Why run during placements? That's what the dumb kids do."
Haley turned toward her with a smirk. "So you think Samuel is dumb, huh?"
Alex paused.
Her brain immediately went back to their history project. She'd rolled her eyes when she heard the topic—pirates. She always thought they were just dirty, disorganized criminals with boats and bad hygiene.
But Samuel had explained it differently.
He talked about the struggle to claim a single island as a safe haven. How they had to steal just enough gold to buy silence, protection, and a place to breathe without a flag over their heads. The way he laid it out… it wasn't chaotic. It was strategic.
And for the first time, she'd actually found herself interested in pirates .
The room went quiet for a beat.
Then Phil, still standing like he was hosting a show no one asked for, broke the silence
"You know," Phil said, looking at the kids, "Samuel's a good kid. Polite, helpful, doesn't roll his eyes when I make jokes. That already puts him ahead of most of you."
He paused, glancing between Haley and Alex. "Also… not to be that guy, but why did Samuel come up? I thought we were making fun of Alex's running. Did he, like, steal her shoes or something?"
Haley rolled her eyes. "No, Dad."
She tossed herself onto the couch and started retelling it like it was the most casual thing ever. "Samuel basically out-jogged the entire class. Like, casually. I don't think he even realized it was a timed thing. At the end, the teacher literally had to tell him to stop running."
Phil's eyebrows shot up.
"Oh, and I'm pretty sure he has tryouts with the football coach tomorrow," she added. "But let's be real—his spot is basically guaranteed."
Phil's eyes lit up. "That's great!"
He stood up a little straighter, clearly proud of himself. "I mean, I was the first one on the street to welcome the new family. Michael and I? We're basically best friends now."
He chuckled to himself, clearly still riding the excitement. "I really like that kid. Really respectful, solid handshake, laughed at my jokes—what more do you want?"
He paused, then his eyes widened a little. "Wait… I think Michael said it was his birthday today."
Without waiting for a reaction, he was already turning toward the hallway. "I should go congratulate him! Claire!" he called out, heading in her direction. "We need to do something birthday-ish! Do we have any balloons left from Luke's thing?"
Samuel Pov
The wind was light—just enough to tickle the edge of my arm as I pulled the string back.
Anchor. Breathe. Release.
Thwip.The arrow slammed into the center of the cardboard smiley face, right between its eyes. I gave a soft nod to no one in particular. Not bad.
I reached over to grab another arrow, muscles flexing lightly from the motion. The tank top stuck a little to my shoulder from the sweat. Basic shorts, bare feet in the grass, and music humming in my ears—I could almost forget the weirdness of the day.
Just the bow. Just the rhythm. Just me.
Until—
Ding dong.
I froze mid-draw.
The string stayed taut against my fingers. The arrow tilted slightly, half-loose. I let out a slow breath and eased off the tension.
I pulled one earbud out.
Ding dong.
Really?
The front door.
I lowered the bow and glanced toward the side gate, considering whether I should just pretend I didn't hear it. Michael wouldn't be home for another hour at least, and I sure as hell wasn't expecting anyone.
I set the bow down carefully against the porch railing and started toward the house, brushing grass off my legs as I walked. The cool air inside hit different—like stepping into a fridge. I crossed the living room and stepped up to the door.
Peeked through the small frosted window beside it.
I blinked.
My brain stalled for a second. That was… all of them. On my porch. Why?
Standing there was the entire Dunphy family.
Phil was right up front, grinning like he'd just won a lifetime supply of smiles. Claire stood next to him with a polite expression, the kind people wear when they're not totally sure what they've been dragged into. Behind them, Haley leaned slightly to the side, eyes drifting from the porch to the windows, like she was mentally taking inventory of the whole house. Alex clutched a small bag a little tighter than necessary, looking more nervous than usual—like this wasn't her idea and she wasn't entirely sure what to say once they were actually here. Luke, of course, had already spotted my bow leaning against the porch and was bouncing like he wanted to try it yesterday.
I opened the door slowly, still slightly out of breath from archery, one earbud hanging loose and my tank top clinging to me from the heat. "Uh… hey?"
Phil stepped forward like he was on stage. "Happy birthday, sport!" he announced, throwing his arms wide like he expected confetti to fall from the sky.
Claire glanced at Phil, then back at me with a small shrug. "I wasn't sure if dropping by uninvited was the right move, but someone got a little excited when he remembered it was your birthday."
Phil beamed like he'd just been handed an award. "Birthdays are sacred! Besides, who doesn't love a good surprise?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling a little too exposed. Haley and Alex were both watching me, lips parted, eyes fixed like I was some kind of walking surprise. I blinked, unsure if I should be flattered or find a shirt. Settling on both, I pulled on a vest and tried not to smirk.
Alex blinked and looked away first, mentally scolding herself for staring.
Haley didn't. Instead, her smirk deepened a little. *He cleans up nice,* she thought, tilting her head like she was evaluating a painting.
"Uh, of course," I said, shifting slightly. "It's just—you're kinda the only ones here. We don't really celebrate my birthday in a big way or anything. My uncle's still at work, and, yeah… nothing's really set up. I was just out back, training."
Luke lit up immediately. "With the bow?!"
Luke's eyes were practically glowing. "Can I try it? The bow, I mean. Please? I swear I won't break anything. Probably."
I smirked and leaned slightly against the doorframe. "This one's tougher than it looks. But sure—if you can draw it back, you can shoot it."
Claire immediately shot me a look like I'd just handed her son a loaded gun.
I held her gaze for a second, then shrugged lightly, the corner of my mouth twitching. There was no way Luke could pull it back far enough to actually shoot anything. The tension on that bow wasn't for kids—or for casual backyard fun, really. I doubted he'd even get it halfway.
Luke was already halfway through the door before I could say anything else, mumbling, "This is gonna be awesome."
Phil clapped once and followed after him. "This is how it starts, folks! The hero's journey begins with one borrowed bow."
Claire sighed behind them. "And probably ends with a trip to the hospital."
Luke was already at the bow stand in the backyard, feet planted like he was about to win an Olympic gold. He grabbed the grip, lifted it, and started pulling the string back with both hands.
Immediately, his face scrunched like he was trying to lift a car with his teeth.
While he grunted and struggled, I heard a soft voice beside me.
"Sorry about my family," Alex whispered, barely loud enough to hear. "We just kind of… barged in."
I glanced at her. She looked genuinely apologetic—awkward, even. Like the chaos unfolding around her wasn't her idea of a fun afternoon either.
I gave a small smile. "Yeah, I usually spend my birthday in peace and quiet. So this is… new. And loud."
Alex, still holding the gift bag, just muttered, "Noted."
Then, a little stiffly, she stepped forward and held the bag out to me. "Uh, it's nothing big," she mumbled. "Just thought… you might like it."
I took it gently, surprised. "Thanks."
She nodded quickly and stepped back toward the door like she'd just finished a class presentation.
Before I could respond, there was a strained groan from Luke.
"I think... I think something's stuck."
Luke was now using his whole body—legs bent, arms shaking, face red—as he tried to get the string to move even an inch. At one point, he planted his feet wide like he was preparing to deadlift the thing, grunting as if sheer willpower would somehow bend physics.
Claire let out a slow, audible sigh of relief beside me when the string barely budged. No arrow had flown. No eyes were lost. Yet.
She looked at me, eyebrows raised.
I shrugged. "The bow's difficult to use. Especially if you're, y'know… Luke's age."
Claire let out a breath she'd clearly been holding and gave me a small, grateful look. "You could've told me that before—I was already picturing an ER visit."
Then I heard Phil yell from across the yard, the bow already in his hands and a gleam in his eye, "Maybe when you're older, buddy—but your dad will show you how it's done!"
Then Phil started pulling back the bow, clearly confident—maybe a little too confident. The initial pull wasn't too bad; he even looked like he was about to pull off some kind of cinematic shot.
But the moment the bow really started to stretch, his arms began to tremble.
"Okay… okay… little resistance here…" he muttered through gritted teeth, his smile tightening into something less heroic and more panicked.
Then he groaned—loudly—and let go before he could hold it any longer.
Thwip.
The arrow flew.
And missed.
By a lot.
It didn't even hit the target—it sailed off to the left, bouncing harmlessly off the fence and landing somewhere in the bushes.
The arrow bounced once, then disappeared into the bushes with a sad little rustle.
For a second, there was silence.
Then—laughter.
Haley doubled over. "You didn't even come close!"
Luke was wheezing. "It went sideways! How did it even go sideways?!"
Even Alex cracked a genuine laugh, shaking her head. "Physics just gave up on you."
Claire covered her mouth, trying not to smile but failing completely. "Well, at least nobody lost an eye."
Phil looked around proudly. "And that, kids, is what we call a warning shot."
Phil looked at the bow, then back at me, eyebrows raised like the weapon had just betrayed national security.
"Okay, but seriously…" he said, still slightly winded, "can you actually shoot this thing?"
I walked over without saying much, picked up another arrow, and notched it with one smooth motion. My fingers found the string like they'd done it a thousand times. Because they had.
I glanced at Phil. "Yeah. Pretty sure."
Anchor. Breathe. Release.
Thwip.
The arrow hit dead center—right between the eyes of the cardboard smiley face.
Everyone went quiet for a second.
Then Luke yelled, "That was awesome!"
Haley raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Robin Hood."
Alex, still holding the gift bag, just muttered, "Noted."
Phil put a hand over his heart. "I feel like I just watched a Disney prince unlock his destiny."
After the excitement outside started to cool off, we all headed back inside. Claire did a quick visual scan of the place—probably checking for knives, messes, or wild animals—then gave a small, approving nod. The others scattered, making themselves at home like it was just another Thursday.
Phil flopped onto the couch. "So, Samuel… school. What's the verdict? You surviving? Thriving? Secretly running the place from behind the scenes?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "He's not that subtle."
Phil snapped his fingers like he just remembered something. "Oh! And I heard a little rumor you're joining the football team. True or false?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, heat creeping into my face. "Not yet," I admitted, "but… probably. Coach said we're talking final spots after tryouts."
Phil gave me an enthusiastic double thumbs-up. "That's the spirit! Confidence and humility—my two favorite traits. Right behind 'good hair.' Which you also have."
Then, right in the middle of Haley's rapid-fire questioning, she leaned in with a teasing smile, eyes narrowing like she was hunting for gossip.
"So, is there anyone you like?"
I blinked, caught off guard.
She didn't wait for an answer. "How's Alex during class? Is she still correcting everyone—including the teacher?"
Alex let out an annoyed sigh from the other side of the room, clearly hearing that one.
"And have you ever had a girlfriend? Like, a real one?" Haley asked, grinning like she was collecting data for a full report on the new cool kid.
I opened my mouth, trying to figure out how to respond to any of that, when—Luke cut in, voice jumping two octaves from excitement. "Do you have any more cool stuff?! Like, besides the bow? Ninja stars? Smoke bombs? A boomerang?!"
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and smiled. "I mean… I've still got my first bow. It's a beginner one. Way lighter than the one outside."
Luke gasped like I'd just offered him the keys to a spaceship. "Can I try it?! Please!"
I dodged Haley's last question with the smoothest awkward smile I could manage. "Not really something I think about."
Before she could press, I turned quickly to Luke. "Yeah, you can try it if you want."
He lit up immediately, already halfway to standing.
But before he could get too far, Claire's voice cut in, sharp but polite. "Actually, I think it's about time we head out."
Her tone was pleasant, but there was no mistaking the underlying message: Luke is not leaving this house with a bow.
I glanced at her, then back at Luke, who froze mid-bounce with disappointment written all over his face.
Claire offered me a smile that was all manners and quiet panic. "Thank you again for everything. This was really nice."
I nodded, catching Claire's hint loud and clear. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."
I turned to Luke, who looked like someone had taken away his birthday. "But hey—if you want to practice, you can come over this weekend. I'll set everything up for you."
His face lit back up like a switch had flipped. "Really?! Yes!"
Before Claire could object, Phil jumped in with his usual enthusiasm. "And maybe I can get another shot too? I feel like I've got one good arrow in me."
I chuckled and gave him a playful nod. "Of course. I'll make sure all your 'warning shots' go where they're supposed to this time."
Claire just sighed, gently herding her family toward the door with practiced precision. "Okay, everyone, let's move before someone volunteers for a sword next."
They began to file out slowly, still talking among themselves, the energy not quite ready to fade.
Phil turned around at the door, pointing two fingers at me like a coach giving final words to his MVP. "Don't forget that weekend rematch. I'm bringing focus… and maybe elbow pads."
"Looking forward to it," I said, grinning.
Luke paused just outside the doorway, still holding onto that imaginary dream of the beginner bow. "You meant it, right? About the weekend?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I meant it."
He gave me a hopeful smile before running to catch up with Phil.
Then, as they made their way off the porch, Alex lingered near the top step. She looked back, adjusting the strap of her bag.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, voice a little quieter. "History class."
I nodded again, more gently this time. "Yeah. See you."
Haley lingered just a second longer near the porch stairs. She gave me that usual smirk, but her eyes flicked—briefly—to the bow, then to me.
"We'll be seeing each other again. Trust me," she said with a grin.
"Should I be worried?"
She laughed lightly, but this time, there was something thoughtful in it. "Probably."
Then she turned, jogging after the others, ponytail bouncing behind her.
I stood there in the doorway, the porch light buzzing quietly even though the sun hadn't fully disappeared yet. Their laughter faded into the distance.
For a moment, I just stood still.
Then I dropped onto the couch, muscles sinking into the cushions like they'd been waiting for this all day.
I stared at the ceiling.
I felt like i wasn't alone.
That... felt new.