Alexander had always been ahead.
But now, he was visible.
By age thirteen, his room was lined with certificates, medals, and glossy competition banners. Local newspapers began to feature headlines like:
"Young Genius Redefines Engineering"
"Teen Innovator Creates Bio-Adaptive Prosthetic Blueprint"
"Meet the Boy Who Solves Calculus Before Breakfast"
It wasn't that he tried to win.
He just didn't know how to stop thinking.
The Language Spark
It started with an overheard conversation — a tourist couple speaking rapid French outside the coffee shop. Most kids wouldn't have noticed. But Alexander paused mid-step.
"Il a dit qu'elle oublie son passeport," he murmured.
Haley blinked. "Was that French?"
"French Canadian dialect. Sloppy accents. He said she forgot her passport."
"You speak French now?"
"No. I just heard it… and followed the patterns."
A week later, he was reading Les Misérables in the original text — and correcting the online translations.
Within two months, he was speaking passable Spanish, German, and Mandarin.
It didn't feel like effort.
It felt like unlocking doors he didn't realize he had keys to.
Flashback – The Art Gala
Alexander entered a regional youth art showcase with no intention of winning.
His submission?
A portrait of a girl standing in front of a shattered mirror — her reflection showing all the different people the world expected her to be. A dancer. A rebel. A genius. A storm.
It was titled: "Haley."
The judges were speechless.
It didn't just win.
It was bought.
By a collector.
For $8,000.
The story hit the local paper.
"Teen Inventor and Artist Sells First Work Before High School."
When the Knights showed him the article, he shrugged.
But Haley?
She stared at the painting for a long time.
"You really see me," she said.
He looked over. "You're hard to miss."
She smiled. "That was almost romantic."
He blinked. "Did it work?"
She laughed. "Almost."
The Emotional Undercurrent
Despite the praise, the interviews, the admiration — something inside Alexander ached.
He still couldn't explain why the applause made his chest feel tight, why the flash of cameras made him flinch, or why he sometimes locked himself in the attic just to cry without knowing why.
One night, Claire Knight found him sitting in the dark, sketching with heavy hands.
"You okay, baby?" she asked gently.
"I don't know how to be proud of myself," he whispered. "I just… do things. And people clap. But it doesn't mean I'm okay."
She knelt beside him, voice trembling. "You don't have to be okay to be amazing. You're both."
Flashback – Dunphy Dinner Chaos
The week after the art sale, the Knights were invited to dinner at the Dunphys'.
Phil made a cake that exploded glitter. Luke knocked over a vase. Claire tried to light candles and nearly burned the centerpiece.
And in the middle of it all was Alexander, sitting between Haley and Alex, laughing — really laughing — at something stupid Luke said.
It wasn't polished.
It wasn't planned.
But it was real.
After dinner, Haley sat beside him on the porch swing.
"Promise me you won't go too far away," she said suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"You're getting… bigger. Brighter. People are going to want you. But I don't want you to forget us."
He turned toward her.
"I wouldn't be me without you," he said.
It wasn't poetic.
It was truth.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "You're getting better at this emotional stuff."
"I have a very good teacher."
A New Emotion Emerges
That night, he couldn't sleep.
He sat by the window, guitar in his lap, journal beside him.
And for the first time, he wrote music with words — not just notes.
It wasn't perfect.
It wasn't even finished.
But it was raw.
And it was his.
Alexander was winning more.
Learning faster.
Being seen more than ever.
But thanks to Haley, his parents, and the beautiful, chaotic mess next door…
He was also beginning to feel.
To process.
To become not just a mind, but a heart.
And he had no idea that just on the horizon, the world was beginning to take more serious notice.
And this time… it wouldn't just be reporters.