That intense personal vibe, the rock-solid confidence radiating off her.
Maria still had the same face, but man, she felt totally refreshed—like a whole new person.
Barry brushed off those nosy types in a couple quick words, the ones who'd sniffed out the drama and come sniffing around.
"How's it feel, Maria?"
Maria had watched the whole thing with her heart in her throat, from the fight kicking off to it wrapping up in under half a minute.
Good news: Barry hadn't gone for any elbow strikes this time.
Bad news: She was even more famous now.
From Maria's first-person view, this hit different emotionally.
If the school bus showdown had been all about fear in her eyes, then right here in the cafeteria, she was soaking in something she'd never felt before—straight-up respect.
"It's like a dream... super cool... kinda thrilling? Oh, and yeah, I'm happy!"
Maria tried laying out her real feelings, no filter.
"Still scared?"
Barry followed up.
"I was terrified before, but now? Feels pretty good. Nah, scratch that—this is awesome."
It was like she'd busted through some forbidden wall. Barry had pulled off stuff in her body that Maria had always wanted to do but never had the guts for—not even in her wildest daydreams. Heck, even if she ended up in a psych ward tomorrow, Maria figured it'd all been worth it.
She'd gotten to play campus celeb for a hot minute, living vicariously through this badass action flick starring her as the hero.
Never in a million years did she imagine her wishes coming true like this.
After school, some folks invited Maria to hang out, but Barry, subbing in, wasn't feeling it and politely shut it down.
Just a casual "Next time for sure" to keep things smooth.
...
Back home.
The family sat down for dinner together.
Body handover hadn't happened yet, and Maria was dreading her dad's lecture, so she chickened out on logging back in. Instead, she begged Barry to keep covering for her.
What you gotta face, you eventually do.
But dodging? It's lame... but hey, it works.
Stuff Maria couldn't stomach, Barry just dove in headfirst.
At the table, Maria's mom, Amy, laid out the dinner she'd whipped up with care, dish by dish.
Dad, Dan Brennan, held court at the head, with Maria and Amy facing each other across from him.
"Honey, guess who I ran into today?" Amy shot Maria a smile. "Sue, George's mom—remember George?"
Barry was just powering through the food, slicing off chunks of steak and shoveling them in.
The grub tonight was a little light on the good stuff, though—half the plate was straight veggies.
Barry symbolically speared a tiny bit of green and popped it in his mouth.
"Oh, yeah, kinda rings a bell. That pig from Peppa Pig who looks like a pink hairdryer—the little version."
In Barry's memory banks, the most famous George was that one, and yeah, this world had the show too.
"...Uh, sweetie, you're still watching kids' cartoons? That's adorable—keeps the kid in you alive." Amy paused for a solid five seconds, barely holding it together, before pushing on.
"George, from that science camp you two did together? The smart kid—ring any bells?" Amy's eyes were all hopeful.
"What? Smart kid? You're messing with me."
Barry swallowed his last bite of meat and shot back, puzzled.
"Maria, who's this George your mom's talking about?"
"No clue."
"Cool, winging it then."
"Curious George—that's what you used to call him." Amy tried jogging memories Barry didn't have.
"So, he's probably a total dope, huh? Asking a million questions like a pink hairdryer that never cracked a book." Amy froze mid-sentence at her daughter's zinger.
She watched her girl piling on more food—thrilled at the appetite but thrown by the sharp edges in her words.
Mom just wants you to have some epic high school memories, that's all.
"Okay, honey. Skipping George for now—the winter formal's coming up soon..."
"Hold up!" Barry cut her off.
"Before that, I've got something big to tell you guys. Super important."
Barry wiped his mouth, took a sip of lemonade, and went full serious mode.
"There was this huge thing at school today—total buzz, whole place knows about it. You hear?"
Amy and Dan swapped a quick glance and shook their heads, blank as can be.
Amy piped up: "Does it involve us? Or you?"
Barry: "Kinda, maybe not, but yeah, there's a connection."
Amy: "Alright, honey, spill."
Barry: "So, these guys from my grade ganged up on a girl—blood, tears, the works. Scary stuff."
Amy: "Oh my God, you okay? Not too freaked?"
"Eh, I'm good. Forum's got the video floating around—I downloaded it. Check it out."
He pulled up the clip on his phone and passed it over.
After that quick 30-second watch, Maria's parents' faces were a total circus—equal parts shock and what-the-hell.
Four big dudes in hockey helmets and sticks, laid out flat by someone who looked just like their daughter.
In the video, the girl took 'em down with a few punches and kicks—clean, brutal, like a kung fu flick on steroids, complete with some pumped-up, nonsense BGM.
Staged? Nah, those pain faces weren't faking it.
"This... this you?"
Dan's brows were knotted up tight—confused, stunned, the works.
"Yeah, me. That's when I got enlightened."
Hearing "Maria" say that, Dan looked like he'd just spotted Atlantis. Is this still my daughter?
"Enlightened how?" Dan leaned in, hooked.
"Popped a chill pill, and boom—inner peace, no more waves. I saw the light, leveled up." Right then, the "Maria" in their eyes glowed with a wisdom they'd never clocked before.
"If smarts can't teach 'em respect, then fists will make sure they remember."
No more hiding her strength—"Maria" let out a teeth-grinding creak, and snap—she bent the fork in her hand clean in two.
Her parents nearly popped their eyeballs.
They bought it! Totally sold now!
A girl who snaps forks barehanded? Flipping a few meatheads would be a cakewalk!
"Dad, that confidence you've always pushed me to chase? I found it. And yeah, this is the power it brings."
Dan: This ain't the confidence I had in mind.
"And Mom, you don't have to worry about me anymore. I've grown up—past stuff's just a little rain, no biggie."
Amy: Kid, you're growing up warp speed.
The shock hit hard and fast, but Maria's folks held it together, barely.
"Oh yeah, and this morning on the bus? I handled that too." "Maria" tossed it out casual-like.
"H-Handled what?" Dan asked, voice shaky.
"Taught 'em respect. Cleanup's on you guys—I'm heading upstairs to think."
With that, he snagged the phone back, and "Maria" strode up to the second floor, leaving her parents with a back view that screamed anything-but-mousy.
That oozing confidence? It was practically blinding.
The two of them sat there at the table, words failing.
Daughter's all grown—ain't wrangling her no more.