Everly attended the public elementary school in Lemot Town—a small, rundown old school.
It couldn’t be helped—old story: their home was too remote. Aside from the Lemot school, the nearest other schools were in Micano City. Driving there would take over two hours one way. A morning drop-off and an afternoon pick-up would mean eight hours on the road each day—basically leaving no time for anything else.
Old John felt guilty about this, but Everly always knew how to persuade him.
“I know the people in town, so I’ll make friends quickly. If I went to school in the city, everyone around me would be strangers, and I’d feel out of place. Besides, the stuff they teach in elementary school is so simple—I’ve already taught myself everything. It doesn’t matter where I go to school.”
And she wasn’t lying.
In her previous life, Everly had actually graduated from college. Even though her memory wasn’t completely intact, what she had learned was deeply ingrained—almost instinctive. When she encountered it again, a little thought was enough to recall it fully, allowing her to master it again and connect it seamlessly with other knowledge.
For someone with that kind of “study hack,” the material taught to American elementary students was truly nothing.
Old John couldn’t argue with her logic, so he finally sent her to the school in Lemot.
The elementary school was named after a well-known local natural landmark: Volcanic Gorge Elementary School. Almost all of its students were from Lemot Town itself. The town was very small—just over a thousand residents—so the school only had six classes: one per grade, with each class having just a dozen or twenty students. The student body was very tiny.
School started at 8:30 a.m. and ended at 3:00 p.m. In addition to the four core subjects—English, math, science, and social studies—students also attended art, music, and physical education classes. The curriculum was very simple, and the teachers were fairly lax. In class, students frequently whispered, passed notes, laughed quietly, or played small pranks on each other. The teachers mostly focused on lecturing, barely paying attention to what the students were doing, as long as it didn’t get too out of hand.
It was said that most public schools in the U.S. were like this in terms of teaching quality.
Everly realized that if she wanted to pursue higher education and aim for a good university, she would need a stricter, better-managed private school after finishing elementary. She wasn’t a prodigy; once the material got harder, she would have to start learning from scratch like everyone else. Without a proper learning environment, even a disciplined student would struggle to focus fully on their studies.
Beyond the management style, another aspect of American schooling surprised Everly: grades were no longer the ultimate “currency.” In her previous life, a student with good grades was automatically a “model student” in the eyes of parents, teachers, and peers. In the U.S., however, just burying your head in books would get you labeled a “nerd,” isolating you socially, subjecting you to ridicule or even bullying. In contrast, students who were humorous, socially skilled, or excelled in sports tended to be more popular.
Fortunately, Everly didn’t have any of those problems.
She was an excellent student, never disruptive in class, and always completed her homework—earning straight A’s in every subject. At the same time, she was considered one of the “cool girls” by everyone: beautiful, athletic, strong-willed, self-respecting, never stirring trouble, and never backing down when provoked.
She once punched that obnoxious third-grader, Witt, so hard his nose bled everywhere and he started bawling for his parents. All because the guy, after being rejected by her, mocked Old John to her face, calling him a “greasy old man who reeks of engine oil.”
Honestly, it’s ridiculous—American elementary schoolers are way too precocious. They’re only in third grade and already thinking about getting girlfriends…
Everly thought the teacher would scold her, and parents would come rushing to the school, just like in her previous life—but nothing of the sort happened. Witt slunk away in shame, never bothering her again, and didn’t dare tell his parents either.
In the U.S., students generally feel that running to your parents when something happens at school is incredibly pathetic.
As for the teachers, they always turned a blind eye to conflicts between students. If no one complained, they didn’t intervene—and even if they knew, they pretended not to.
The punching incident didn’t hurt Everly’s reputation at all; on the contrary, it earned her quite a few fans. Many students wanted to be her friends, and even some older students reached out to her, offering friendship. But Everly had no interest in childish elementary kids—even the older grades were still elementary students! So no matter who approached her, she remained cold and indifferent.
And somehow, that made her even more popular.
Wherever she went, students—whether she knew them or not—would greet her. At first, Everly would politely nod or respond, but eventually there were just too many people. Exhausted by the attention, she decided to ignore everyone completely. Surprisingly, those being ignored didn’t get angry; instead, they would clutch their faces and sigh to their friends: “The Ice Queen was so cold and cool today. We have to greet her again tomorrow…”
Everly: Help! Who came up with this cringey nickname? Leave me alone!
At such an early age, Everly already had the burdens of being an idol.
Every day at school, she wore a cool, impassive face—cool in class, cool doing her homework, cool participating in activities… That’s how she went through first and second grade. She had to keep that facade all day until she returned home, got into Old John’s car, and finally relaxed her face.
It was exhausting.
Old John couldn’t help but laugh at his little granddaughter, who looked like a tiny serious adult. He pressed the accelerator, lifted one hand to pat her shoulder, and boomed in a loud voice, “Hey, Everly, relax a little. Everyone will still like you even if you aren’t that cool.”
“What…! I’m not doing this to be liked!” Everly snapped instantly.
Old John laughed heartily. Buddy, crouched nearby, didn’t understand what was happening but let out an excited “Woof!” The car filled with a moment of pure joy.
At that moment, far off in the sky, a pale white streak of light cut across the darkness.
“Wow, a shooting star!” Everly said, reaching out and pointing to the sky, pretending to be surprised to divert attention.
“Seems like there’ve been a lot of shooting stars lately…” Old John glanced up and muttered casually.
That year, there really were many meteors. Summer had just begun, and sightings of meteor showers were reported across the country, with news coverage appearing constantly.
By July, NASA launched a Mars exploration orbiter named Wanderer. In August, the orbiter’s high-resolution imaging system captured seasonal slope streaks on the Martian surface. Scientists conducted spectral analysis on these streaks and concluded that there was seasonal liquid water on Mars.
This sensational discovery ignited humanity’s passion for space exploration. Suddenly, meteors, meteorites, aliens—everything related to outer space—became all the rage.
More and more people would look up at night to observe the mysterious, deep sky. As a result, more meteors were sighted, and meteorite fragments even became trendy as decorative items.
Everly still remembered that day clearly: September 23, 20X5. She had just finished second grade and was about to start third grade.
That evening, after dinner, she was about to go out with Old John to walk Buddy. The moment her hand touched the doorknob, for some reason, a sudden, inexplicable unease washed over her.
Her heart raced, and her entire body felt as if it were suspended in midair—empty, untethered, without solid ground beneath her feet. A powerful sense of dread spread through her like wild grass, growing uncontrollably from her chest all the way up to her throat, making her feel nauseous.
Everly gripped the doorknob tightly, breathing rapidly, cold sweat covering her forehead.
It had been a very long time since she had felt this way—the unmistakable sense that something bad was about to happen, something she needed to avoid at all costs…
“Grandpa… let’s… let’s take Buddy and go to the underground shelter.”
Her voice was strained, her breaths coming in short gasps.
Old John immediately sensed something was wrong. He hurried outside, grabbed Buddy from the yard, and brought the trembling Everly and the dog into the underground shelter.
“You foresaw this again, didn’t you?” Once they were seated on the sofa in the shelter, Old John handed Everly a cup of warm milk, his voice full of concern.
Everly nodded.
Not long after she had learned to speak, she had casually revealed her precognitive abilities to Old John. He had lived through enough storms and hardships to know that there were things in this world that science couldn’t explain. He accepted Everly’s supernatural ability without skepticism and even thought it was a remarkable gift.
Tonight was another example—she had once again protected both of their lives from a falling meteor.
Yes—a meteor was falling. The danger Everly had foreseen was a massive, blazing meteor streaking across the sky.
It was far more dazzling than anything on TV, brighter than any shooting star, its silvery tail blazing behind it as it tore through the pitch-black night sky. It hurtled toward a nearby wasteland, shaking violently as it fell. Along its path, clouds ripped apart, and the air itself seemed distorted. It moved so fast that even underground, Everly could hear the thunderous sonic boom as it passed overhead.
The enormous meteor landed on a distant mountainside.
The moment the meteor struck, even the surveillance cameras outside shuddered. A blinding white explosion engulfed the mountainside, and the thunderous “BOOM” took several seconds to reach their ears. By that time, the entire slope—and the nearby highway—was already shrouded in thick smoke and dust.
Everly and Old John normally walked Buddy along that stretch of road, right through the area now caught in the aftermath.
The inexplicable sense of dread slowly faded after the meteor fell, and Everly exhaled, thinking the crisis was over.
Still wary of stray debris, the two of them stayed in the shelter overnight and didn’t return to the surface until early the next morning.
By then, the fire on the mountainside had long since burned out. After a night’s settling, the floating smoke and dust had dispersed, and under the bright sunlight, all that remained on the slope was a massive, crater-like depression caused by the impact. The crater’s edges stretched all the way to Highway 387.
As Everly stood on the balcony observing, several vehicles slowly drove in from the far end of the road, one after another, stopping at the edge of the crater. A large group of people poured out of the cars. Some carried ropes, shovels, and wooden planks, stepping toward the center of the crater, while others stood with arms crossed along the edges, whispering and pointing toward the inside.
Everly had excellent eyesight and immediately recognized them—they were the townspeople of Lemot.