Not long after I left Mr. Blonde’s room, I unfurled the map to reexamine the rooms I’ll need to be in when I start attending school. The relevant classrooms were marked in numeric order, matching the timetable I was given.

  I traced a route with my finger connecting the entranceways of the marked classrooms, starting and ending at the exit leading to my dorm. Confident in my route, I conjured a wooden pencil and started tracing on the map Mr. Blonde drew on.

  Trying to draw on paper without a clipboard is about as frustrating as it gets. Air could not provide the support needed to apply the pressure required to draw a visible line. I needed a wall or desk to support my drawing.

  As I walked through the halls looking for a decent surface to draw on, I heard murmurs emanating from various classrooms, likely voices from ongoing lessons.

  I wonder what they’re learning.

  One of the classrooms had voices emanating louder than the others. Listening closely, it sounded exciting.

  I looked at the room’s number plate to see if it was a classroom I’d be a part of.

  Doesn’t look like it, oh well.

  I turned away from the louder classroom and moved until the sounds were out of earshot. Then I took the pencil I conjured, placed the map on an empty wall, and traced the route I imagined myself taking.

  Alright. All I have to do is commit this route to memory, remembering I’ll have classes in between, and then I’m good to go!

  I looked at the map I was carrying around. Its size felt awkward to carry around.

  It’d be more convenient to carry this in a poster container.

  I checked the map once more, confirming my current location on the map, before heading off to Mr. Blonde’s office to act out some charades in hopes of asking for an appropriate container.

  5 seconds later, I recalled what my power was.

  Right, no need to ask for something I can make myself. How come I didn’t realize it sooner? It’s worrying.

  I pushed away my worries about forgetting my power and imagined a poster container that would fit perfectly to house the rolled up map.

  It was a simple plastic tube with a strap attached to one side, meant to add the convenience of carrying a poster over the shoulder and protect it from being damaged by cuts or wrinkling from being passed around many hands. Certain people like to preserve the fresh and clean quality of merchandise that it comes in, and posters are no exception to that rule.

  The tube was formed with a simple cap that can be slid off with relative ease. It reminded me of those Chapsticks or glue sticks you’d twist to push out the goo you’d apply to either your lips or paper, depending on what you add.

  After ensuring that the length of the rolled-up map was shorter than the tube and double-checking that the cap could be taken on and off without issue, I put the map in the tube before closing it and wearing it over my shoulder. Then I made my way to the exit leading to my dorm.

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  The reason I’m going back is simple. Other students have enrolled before me, and I’m sure they’ve already committed the layout of the building to mind, along with the route they’d need to take to get to their assigned classrooms. I wanted to commit the classes and route I had been given to memory so that I wouldn’t have to consult the map every time I was lost. Fortunately, the shape of the route I had drawn appeared relatively simple, forming a simple squiggly loop.

  I stood by the entrance of the school, again thoroughly checking the map to ensure I wouldn’t be lost.

  I should mark certain landmarks. With how blank the map is, looking at it feels like I’m increasing my chance of getting lost by at least 50%.

  I conjured a clipboard as big as the map, customizing it with 2 clipboard springs clips to keep it secured to the board, then created some loops at 2 corners and threaded some rope- no, lanyard ribbon through the holes. The lanyard ribbon was long enough so that the clipboard would rest comfortably on my hip and would not put too much strain on my neck. I switched to a lanyard ribbon over the rope because I didn’t want skin irritation on the back of my neck.

  With my equipment ready, I began navigating the route I traced for myself, making sure to draw or produce stickers of anything that caught my eye.

  —

  I feel like one of those people who go around carrying trays by their necks, serving food or drinks to anyone who asks.

  Navigating the route to the first classroom took me a few minutes longer than I’d like to admit, since my focus was teetering between sightseeing and actual cartography. On the bright side, all the things I had seen along the way gave me more confidence that I felt I had committed this part of the route to memory.

  The paintings and tapestries in the hall really give this place a mansion-like feeling, like I’m in a noble’s abode.

  As I drew key details leading to my first classroom, voices emanated from behind the door. They sounded louder and closer to the wall. It reminded me of high school when everyone crowded near the door, preparing to leave.

  I should steer clear of the wave of foot traffic that’ll come out those doors.

  I looked around, searching for spots that would be well out of the range of the “splash zone”. Dense crowds have a significant likelihood of turning into a full-on stampede. In my past life, there were even stories of people being trampled to death by the sheer number of people who had to walk on them. The worst part is that such incidents aren’t malicious; combined with panic and a clear threat of danger people want to steer clear of, anyone who tripped became a death waiting to happen.

  The doors opened, and people poured out of the room. Contrary to my expectations, everyone walked at a steady pace. There was even enough room for the faster walkers to overtake the slower people. It was natural crowd behavior on a busy city street.

  I hugged the clipboard closer to my chest in hopes of not drawing attention to myself. It failed, as I underestimated the number of people who would end up walking the halls. Students walked in front of where I stood as I waited for the traffic to die down so that I could navigate the halls to my second classroom without interference.

  That also failed, as a few students approached me, either showing interest in my presence or the clipboard with the custom lanyard around my neck. It reminded me of the Streisand effect, where telling people to stay away from a location or topic makes people more interested in it, accomplishing the opposite of what was initially intended.

  However, I had a few ideas to make them go away.

  I channeled my shy, not-talkative student persona! Something that has resurfaced from all of the years I’ve attended schools!

  I merely waved at them before retreating into the facade that is the shell shielding me from being outside my comfort zone. I even made my clipboard cover my mouth, emulating the meek and shy personality I had when I was a child.

  It seemed to work, as the students walked away when they noticed I’d shown no more interest in further conversation. A few of them had to be dragged away by their friend, either noticing my visible discomfort, or they just really didn’t want to be late for their next class.

  Finally, the foot traffic ceased, and I continued navigating the halls to my second classroom.