Saturday morning, an elderly teal and white RV pulled into the dropoff lane outside the airport and disgorged a lanky teenaged boy and his bags onto the pavement, the driver asking him as he went if he had his laptop, migraine medication, and assorted other essentials. "Now get going and make some friends," she told him. "I've got a consult to get to in Virginia."

"I love you, Grandma," he said, and closed the door of the RV. As Xylda peeled out on her way to, he assumed, her next mark, Manfred headed into the airport, stopping off at Starbucks for a caffeine infusion before following airport employees' instructions until he found the right room. He was apparently the first one here, but he knew it was the right place because of the incredibly glittery banner.

High school, here he came.