WHAT’S THE BIG IDEA?

That night, I stayed up late and did all my homework before I went to bed.

And no, you didn’t just accidentally pick up someone else’s book. This is still me, Rafe K. I just figured that the first day of the year was the wrong time to start falling behind.

But even then, after I finally turned out the light and tried to go to sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything.

I never thought art school would be so complicated. I just thought it would be, well, art and school. But now I had all this other stuff I had to think about. Like not getting kicked out, for instance. And getting a life in the meantime.

“Sounds like a mission to me,” Leo said right away. “When do you want to start?”

This is the thing with Leo: There’s no off switch. He’s ready to go anytime.

Also, he loves a good mission.

The last one was called Operation R.A.F.E., which stood for Rules Aren’t For Everyone, and it earned me an all-expenses-paid trip to summer school.

“Slow down,” I said. “I can’t start getting in trouble all over again. I promised Mom.”

“No, you promised yourself,” Leo reminded me. “Besides, who said anything about that? I’m talking about something better. Bigger!”

“Like what?”

“Like real life! All that ‘stuff of art’ Beekman was talking about. Maybe being an artist is supposed to be about more than just showing up at Cathedral every day and sleeping on this couch every night.”

I couldn’t argue with that part, but still—

“What am I supposed to do?” I said. “Just start… living?”

“You’re closer than you think,” Leo said. “It can be whatever you want. Ride the subway standing on your head. Eat chocolate-covered tarantulas. Go to twelve movies in a row. As long as you’ve never done it before, it’s on the list.”

“Hang on. There’s a list?”

“We’ll call it Operation: Get a Life. What do you think?”

That’s another thing about Leo. He’s always about a step and a half ahead of me.

“I think you’re not the one who has to actually do all this stuff,” I said. “Did you happen to notice all that homework? I can’t start some whole new project now.”

“Or,” Leo said, “maybe you can’t afford not to. Remember what Mrs. Ling said? ‘Not every student is invited back.’ I mean, unless you’re trying to set some kind of record for getting kicked out of middle schools…”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, I just turned over and put a pillow on top of my head.

It wasn’t like I thought Leo was wrong, exactly. It was more like, after the day I’d had, my brain felt like a stuffed mushroom, and there wasn’t room for anything else.

“I’m going to sleep now,” I said.

“I seriously doubt it,” Leo said.

And, of course, he was right about that too.