You want to care. You cared about hero school before.

But like with all things that you're good at, you're suddenly not good enough, and your dreams aren't your dreams anymore, they're something to measure you.

You're so tired of it all. You wish you had a word for it. Most of the adults in your life call it being "lazy." Or "stupid." You find that one funny.

"Kid, you sound like you're having burnout."

Your homeroom teacher says, putting aside the pile of papers marked in big, bold Fs to look at you instead.

A beat. The man closed his eyes for a moment, as if in deep thought. He stood up, not saying anything more on the subject.

"Follow me."

He texts someone briefly. He's already heading for the door of his office.

"We're going to get ice cream, kid."