It's late enough in the day that visitors are trickling in. A little boy gasps at Avery's sudden appearance from the maintenance hallway and hides behind his mom. Avery wracks her mind for the location of the spare tank maintenance room that was a part of the tour. Where was it? She runs around and swings a door open at random.

This is it. Spare tanks line the wall waiting to be used along with all the equipment a professional aquarist in an emergency may need to set up a hospital tank. Avery grabs up a heater, a filter, and an empty tank sitting in a section labeled "clean".

Back in the maintenance hallway, a spigot sits directly in the center of the row of tables. Humid warmth radiates from Avery's armpits. Gross, but not sweat yet so she can't use her power to get rid of it. She settles the tank below the spigot and she wrenches the handle all the way to the left. Water shoots out like a corked-up geyser finally bursting its seal. It splashes into the waiting tank, sending enough over the sides and onto Avery's shoes to make each shift of her feet an uncomfortable squelch.

Her mind recoils at the vile sensation: wet socks suck. Avery lifts a leg into the air. With careful timing, she kicks her leg out in the general direction of the floor drain and shifts her mind to focus on each wet bit of clothing in turn, wiping over them with mental effort in the same fashion she would with a squeegee. At the apex of her kick water shoots out from all the clothes on that limb: pants, shoes, and socks alike. Water passes through Avery's foot and clothes as if they blink out of existence. Only it and momentum remains.

The water splashes across the floor, then she repeats the process with the other foot. Vile wet socks disappear and relief reels her mind back in. She shuts off the spigot once the water reaches the level that Larry's current tank is at, then she picks it up and sets it on the table nearest to the puffer fish. A small green net sits on the table next to it, and Larry swims around in gleeful ignorance of what his future holds.

Unease sends Avery's chest teetering with an odd nausea. She doesn't want to stress this little guy out, but he can't sit in that ammonia-ridden water. The sooner he's out the better. So she grabs the net, drops it in the tank, and starts swiping after Larry.

The little puffer darts around and hides in the castle anytime the net comes close. Frustration seeps into Avery's temples and she swishes the net around a few times.

Larry makes it back into the castle every time with mere inches to spare, so she lifts the castle out of the water.

Larry circles the tank in a more erratic pattern, stopping and starting at random intervals surely just to annoy her. Avery furrows her brow in concentration and lowers the net into the water.

Larry approaches the net a few times with his little mouth opening and closing, but he darts away each time as if he was taunting Avery. That's fine. She just needs to wait until... Larry makes a fatal flaw and drifts too far towards the center of the net. Avery swipes the net like a tennis player a few lucky bounces from victory and it turns out this puffer isn't any Serena Williams.

Avery's chest loosens like a balloon that was fixing to pop and she lifts the net out. "Yes, yes, yes!"

A puffed up Larry dangles with the green mesh of the net, his mouth blubbing a couple silent syllables.

Panic jolts Avery's limbs and widens her eyes; right, she has to be fast. She twists around searching. "Sorry, sorry!" Larry gives another blub, then Avery dunks him into the tank waiting on the table. He floats around in aimless defeat. Guilt tugs at Avery's heart, so she lowers the castle into his temporary enclosure. As soon as the castle touches the ground, he darts inside.

Tank cleaning is easy with Larry out of the way. Avery's mind gets into a groove and the entire cleaning and ammonia removal process disappears in a blur of time. Larry doesn't put up a fight on the return trip. Avery scoops him up with the net, grabs his castle, then returns both of them to their home. He flits around for a moment and settles near the top of the water.

His unblinking beady eyes fix on Avery's. A swirl of purple flame swims around inside the black abyss of his pupils, then the plate of meat bits that Tamika left pops back into focus. Warmth explodes out of Avery's mind and encompasses her every thought. "Oh yeah, I should feed you."

The purple in Larry's eyes swirls brighter. Warmth surges through Avery's mind with fervor, her entire being is pushing her to do this. She grabs the tweezers and pins a piece of meat between the prongs. Larry darts around the castle breaking his eye contact with Avery for a moment.

Feelings of subservience to the fish disappear like a puff of smoke and Avery's senses tailspin into dizziness. She steadies herself on the wall. "What the heck... Buddy, why would you do that?"

Peaking out from the safety of the castle, Larry only opens and closes his mouth.

Annoyance creeps into Avery's mind; they keep animals with powers like that here? Really? She sighs and moves on to the next tank.

You didn't test the water. Test it.

Surprise halts her next step and the compulsion constricts her chest in protest. A new one already? She twists between facing Larry's tank and facing away like an interpretive dance detailing how it feels to be a scratch deejay's record. "Nope, don't need to check. Already did. Nope."

Check.

Each twist toward Larry's tank brings relief, but no: she can't check, she can't add another ritual. Especially one that could rear its head on a task she'll be doing a billion times a day. She twists away a fourth time.

The sun flares to life from behind fog and clouds, some of its rays refract through the angled open windows and directly into Avery's eyes with a burst of white and yellow stars. The light, the pain, her practice; all of it works together and drives away the compulsion's pressure. Avery blocks the light from her eyes with a raise of her arm and gulps in a breath of air. "Phew, that was a rough one."

The entire day is problem after problem. Nothing as serious as Larry's ammonia issue, but stressful things that require all of Avery's attention at a given moment. No one is in the break room at the end of the day besides her. She slumps into a chair and lets her head fall into the crook of her elbow resting on the table, like a kid told to put their head down in elementary school.

Soft hums of equipment flow through one of the break room's thin walls and lulls Avery into thought. Can she keep this kind of work up? This is brutal. Stress every waking moment, foot and back pain, constant checking of books to make sure she isn't making a mistake. Is this what every job is like? Would it be better if she actually wanted to do this?

What could she even do about this when there are all these expectations? She raises her head and drops it back down onto her elbow. The thump echoes around the room, bouncing off the vending machine, the refrigerator, and not much else. She could quit. There are other aquariums that may be better to work at, or she could take a position as a more traditional lab assistant. Those are all further away... It could just be for her. She could quit and take the time to figure out exactly what she wants—

Footsteps echo from someone walking through the door behind Avery. Tamika, now wearing a pair of denim overalls and a t-shirt with branding from some band Avery's never heard of. Tamika pulls a chair up beside Avery and settles into it backwards. "Exhausted? Makes sense! You did good work today. I double checked everything in your report and you handled everything flawlessly. Thanks for taking care of Larry, there must have been a bacteria imbalance or something since Linda died."

Exhaustion tugs at the corners a smile, but Avery keeps it from dropping. "It was a lot, yeah. I didn't think a job would be like this."

Tamika barks a laugh. "All of them are! I like this one better than most. Used to work at a lab down in Hawaii that was doing this long term study about powers affecting the food chain: great views, but bad bosses. You wouldn't believe how many people with authority came up to me with bribes to sway data one way or the other to help their corporate interests or what have you." Her eyes widen and she snaps, then points a thumb toward the door. "Oh, that reminds me. Val likes to talk to new people after their first day. She wanted me to ask you to go see her in her office. You remember where it is?"

Avery pushes herself to her feet. "I think so. I'm going to have to hear more about that Hawaii job later I guess."

Tamika's smile spreads to her eyes with a wink. "Tons a secrets here. I think all my non-disclosure agreements expired, so I'll have to think about which one to share next."

Avery waves and walks out the door toward Valarie's office.

The door of Valarie's office is beige with a wood grain pattern snaking in zigzags all over. Avery's stomach is in turmoil. A clenching, nauseous mess. She's not afraid of losing her job; Tamika made it clear she didn't need to worry that. Instead, she's afraid that her newfound courage to quit and go her own way will be left behind. She should just knock, not stand here staring at a plank of wood and thinking. Rip it off like a bandage. She hovers her trembling hand just above the metal lever handle, fighting both an urge to run away and an urge to barge in.

The handle of the door sweeps down before Avery can make a move and Valarie stares out from her office. Her cotton candy wisps of hair blown back like she's just been jogging. "Oh I thought I heard you out here, dear. Why don't you come in for a cup of tea and to talk about your day?"

Avery's mind cries out for her to run with a shot of panic racing through her veins, but she suppresses a gasp of surprise and adjusts the tuck of her polo shirt's from odd to passable. "Isn't it a bit late to be drinking tea?"

Valarie bats a hand at the air and smiles the best I'll-cook-for-you-and-you'll-like-it grandmother smile Avery has ever seen. "Stop it, I'm something of a night owl so don't worry about little old me. Now come on in and sit down." She waves Avery in and stands by the door waiting for the reluctant woman to pass the threshold.

Avery's heart pangs with guilt, she was so close and she can feel her resolve slipping by the second. She should say something right here before moving... but tea sounds nice. Avery walks past Valarie and into an office that wouldn't be out of place in a witches swamp. Herbs of all type reach toward the window from multi-color pots; others hang from the ceiling by chains and twist their stems around nearby wires or other knickknacks. Like one English Ivy climbing around what must be a grandchild's little league trophy.

Fond memories of Avery's own little league adventures surface and a smile slips in under all her conflict. She settles into a plush, violet armchair across from a couch that only differs in size. A dark, mahogany-looking coffee table separates the two pieces of furniture and a snake plant shoots its leaves up from a pot in its center.

The door closes with a metallic click. Then Valarie hovers beside Avery to place a pair of already filled, floral-print tea cups on the coffee table.

The tea is still hot and the smell drifts up from the cup in hazy wisps. Lemongrass and rose hip, maybe? Avery balances the tea cup from a delicate handle that makes her feel like Bigfoot having a morning cup of coffee. "So what did you want to talk about, ma'am?"

Valarie lowers into the couch and balances her own cup of tea between wrinkly fingers. "There is no need to be that formal, dear. As I said, call me Valarie. Now, how did your first day go?" Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Was Tamika too mean?"

Autopilot takes control, some deeply ingrained professionalism wrenching control of Avery's words away from her. Tendrils constrict her heart again with a throbbing pain, but not tendrils of compulsion like she deals with every other moment. They're tendrils of fear, of guilt.

Of letting everyone down.

She sips from the cup and the lemongrass tingles through her mouth. "Oh no, she was very helpful. I was expecting a bit more management, but this works for me. She's made it clear I can go to her if I need support."

What? This isn't quitting. This isn't biting the bullet and finally doing what she wants. Why can't she stop herself?

Valarie smiles over a sip, then lowers the cup. "I'm so glad to hear that; that was one of my biggest worries. I know if she was my boss I'd turn tail and run the moment that first conversation happened. Is there anything I can do to make your time here more comfortable, dear? You're doing such a good job from what I've heard, so it's no trouble."

The conflict in Avery's heart rages like a storm inside her now, but she can't control her words. She can't say what she wants. "Oh no, I don't need anything. Thanks for the cup of tea. Lemongrass is one of my favorites, actually."

Another day, maybe.