In the heart of the bustling town of Brightville, where the air always smelled like warm cinnamon rolls fresh from Mrs. Baker’s oven, stood the School of Heroes. Not a school for knights or superheroes with capes, no—this was a school for everyday heroes, the kind who tripped over their own shoelaces but still helped old ladies cross the street. And today was the first day back after summer break.

Riley’s stomach did a somersault as they clutched their backpack, its straps rough like sandpaper against their fingers. The backpack was new—well, new-ish—and it still had that stiff, plasticky smell, like a lunchbox left in the sun too long. From inside, something went clink-clank. Riley froze. Had they forgotten to take out their rock collection again? Last time, a particularly round pebble named "Sir Bouncy" had rolled out during math class, causing a domino effect of falling pencils and giggles. The teacher had sighed so deeply it sounded like a deflating balloon.

"You’ll be fine," said Mom, ruffling Riley’s hair. It felt like a nest of spaghetti after a windy day. "Just remember: even the bravest heroes get nervous. It’s like... like when you eat too much ice cream and your brain feels fizzy." Riley nodded, but their knees wobbled like jelly left out in the sun. The schoolyard loomed ahead, a sea of chattering kids and the sharp squeak-squeak of sneakers on pavement. A group of third-graders zoomed past, their laughter ringing like wind chimes in a storm.

Then—BAM!—Riley bumped into someone. A lunchbox went flying, and a sandwich (peanut butter and jelly, judging by the squishy sound it made when it hit the ground) landed with a sad plop right on the toe of Riley’s shoe. The sandwich’s filling oozed out like a slug on a mission. Riley’s face burned hotter than a dragon’s sneeze. "S-sorry!" they stammered, scrambling to pick up the lunchbox. It was covered in stickers of dinosaurs wearing top hats, and it smelled faintly of grape juice and adventure.

The lunchbox’s owner, a kid with hair as wild as a bird’s nest and a gap-toothed grin, shrugged. "No worries! That’s my backup sandwich. I’ve got two more in here." They patted their own backpack, which was so stuffed it looked like it had swallowed a small elephant. "I’m Leo. You new?"

Riley shook their head. "Just... nervous." The word tasted sour, like a lemon drop. Leo’s eyes widened. "Nervous? Pfft! That’s easy. You just gotta find your hero move. Like me—I hum when I’m scared. Wanna hear?" Before Riley could answer, Leo launched into a tune so off-key it made the nearby pigeons take flight. Bweeee-bwoooo-bweeee! Riley’s ears tingled, but then—something strange happened. Their shoulders relaxed, and the knot in their stomach loosened, like a shoelace coming undone. A giggle bubbled up, light as soap bubbles.

"See?" Leo grinned. "Works every time. C’mon, let’s go in before the bell rings. It sounds like a goose getting tickled." Sure enough, the school bell let out a HONK-squawk! that echoed across the yard. Riley took a deep breath. The air smelled like pencil shavings and the faint tang of glue sticks—school smells, but not bad smells. More like the smell of new beginnings.

As they walked through the doors, Riley’s backpack suddenly felt lighter, as if Sir Bouncy and his rock friends had decided to take a nap. The hallway stretched ahead, lined with lockers that gleamed like robot teeth. A poster on the wall read: "Heroes aren’t born—they’re made one brave step at a time." Riley reached into their pocket and pulled out a tiny, crumpled note Mom had tucked in there that morning. It read: "You’ve got this. Love, Mom." The paper was soft, like a well-loved blanket.

Leo nudged Riley. "Race you to class!" And with that, he took off, his sneakers slapping the floor like popcorn kernels in a hot pan. Riley hesitated for only a second before laughing and sprinting after him. The sound of their footsteps mixed with the click-clack of Leo’s lunchbox bouncing against his hip. The school wasn’t so scary after all—it was just a place full of everyday heroes, waiting to be brave together.

And as for Riley? Well, they decided their hero move would be to take one deep breath, then another, and another. Because courage wasn’t about never being scared—it was about showing up anyway.