The Kids Alliance, Chapter 6, By Makaila Odoom

 Chapter 6

I Guess I’ll Save the World, Then

“Wow,” is all I can say when Riley finishes talking. My voice comes out soft, like a puff of air after a punch to the chest.

“It’s up to you to save the world, Makaila. Are you up for it?” she asks, so casually, like she just offered me gum and not a life-altering destiny.

I blink. Then my brain catches up.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up!” My words tumble over each other. “Sure, I mean—yes, absolutely, I’m up for it. I’ve literally been dreaming of something like this happening to me since I was, like, six and wearing a towel cape and throwing marshmallows at villains in my backyard. But… what about my parents? What are they gonna think about this? Where will I stay?”

Riley just laughs, like this is all a completely normal Tuesday. “Wow, a lot of questions! Good thing I have answers for all of them.”

She leans forward, eyes twinkling. “Your parents already know. Actually… they were in the Kids Alliance before you were born. They left after they had your brother.”

I freeze. My thoughts stutter.

“I—what?” I say slowly.

“As for your other question,” she goes on, “you’ll be staying here. In the building. You’ll train here, live here, make friends here.”

“WAIT, WHAT??” My voice goes full screech. “I can’t stay here! I have a family! My friends are gonna freak! My soccer coach, my acting teacher—they’ll think I got kidnapped or something!”

Riley holds up her hands in peace-offering mode. “Don’t worry. Your parents are handling it. They’ve got this. As for your brother—he’s part of the Kids Alliance too.”

I stare.

He knew.

He knew, and he didn’t say a word.

Riley must see it written all over my face because she adds gently, “He didn’t tell you because he wanted you to enjoy your childhood. He didn’t want you worrying or waiting for the big reveal. He thought you deserved surprise and joy. That’s all.”

I swallow. Hard. “I guess… that’s a good enough reason,” I mutter. “But still. We tell each other everything.”

Except, apparently, we don’t.

And now I get to be Sam’s Little Sister again. Just like always.

Overshadowed. Overlooked. The afterthought standing in someone else’s spotlight.

With Sam, it’s like I’m invisible. I could be standing right there, like breathing the same air as someone he’s talking to—and they still wouldn’t see me. They don’t say hi. They don’t even look at me.

And the worst part?

That happens even when it has nothing to do with Sam.

It’s like people are allergic to noticing me.

It hurts. But I don’t show it. I push through. Because I’m strong. I have to be.

But I’m tired of being in everyone’s shadow. I want something more. I want to matter.

“Is he here now?” I ask, a little sharper than I mean to.

“No. He’s taking the summer off. Wanted to give you space. And… probably just wanted the summer off too,” Riley says with a crooked grin.

Despite everything, I laugh. Just a little.

“Thanks,” I say. And I mean it.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“I feel really bad that Holly had to go through that,” I say after a pause. “I mean… I know what it feels like. To be left by someone you thought would always be there. But now I have three best friends who I know would never do that to me. Hopefully… Holly will find that again someday.”

My voice softens. “I feel bad for Ollie, too. That he thought he had to turn bad just to prove he wasn’t a nobody. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

Riley sighs, heavy. “Yeah. Holly told us he used to be amazing. Always cracking jokes, always smiling. He was… the definition of kind.”

“So what happened?” I ask, almost afraid to know.

Riley’s eyes drop to the floor. “His mom called him invisible. His dad told him he was a disappointment. And after that… it was like a switch flipped.”

I blink hard. That familiar sting builds behind my eyes. Not now. Don’t cry now.

“You know, that’s what always happens,” I whisper. “People don’t just turn cruel out of nowhere. They’re hurting. They’re carrying something heavy. And they don’t know how to set it down.”

Riley nods slowly. “You’re right.”

“I just wish…” I trail off. “I wish there was a way to make sure no one ever had to feel like that. So no one ever turned mean or bitter or cold. So no one felt like they had to prove they mattered by hurting people.”

She doesn’t answer. Because there isn’t an answer.

If only there were.