“They’re busy with their own families, Dad,” Skandar mumbled eventually, feeling himself blush, which always happened when he didn’t tell the whole truth. Dad didn’t notice, though—he’d started stacking the plates, which was such a rare sight that Skandar blinked twice to make sure it was real. “What about Owen? He’s a good mate of yours, isn’t he?” Owen was the worst. Dad thought he was a friend because he’d once seen hundreds of notifications from him on Skandar’s phone. Skandar hadn’t mentioned that the messages were far from friendly. “Oh yeah, he loves the Chaos Cup.” Skandar got up to help. “He’s watching it with his grandparents, though, and they live miles away.” Skandar wasn’t even making this up; he’d overheard Owen complaining to his crew about it. Right before he’d torn three pages out of Skandar’s Math textbook, screwed them up, and thrown them in his face. “KENNA!” Dad shouted suddenly. “It’s starting any minute!” When there was no answer, he disappeared into their bedroom and Skandar sat down on the sofa, the TV coverage in full swing. A reporter was interviewing a past Chaos Cup rider in the main arena, just in front of the starting bar. Skandar turned up the volume. “—and do you think we’ll see some fierce elemental battles today?” The reporter’s face was flushed with excitement.
