On the way to school, my phone vibrated in my pocket, and I landed halfway to class behind a neighborhood building. Mercredi Matin Cafe was the French coffee shop nearby where I stopped for this morning's heist. It's the coffee shop where Sam, Derek, and I often checked in and shared additional information and plans if needed.
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It rippled again as I grabbed my phone from my back pocket. I ignored Derek's call, hoping I could make it to the end of this morning's class. I never got that far otherwise. "What, Derek?" I growled, gripping my phone tighter.
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"Are you okay?" he muttered back. I could hear him bouncing his fingertip against the back of his phone. My breath fogged the air, and I threw my hood on my head, lifting my feet off the ground. I dodged finger-pointing and glares as I rose higher into the sky, getting the best signal and resisting lower passer-by traffic.
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"Besides getting my ass kicked by a new super, I'll be fine."
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"So, you saw him too?" He presumed. He kicked my ass, I told myself before realizing there were two of them. It wasn't the first time a super turned up in Phoenix, but most of the time, there was only one, and they disappeared after a day or two, never to show up again.
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"There were two of them." I reminded myself out loud. "This time, they asked for Sam."
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I heard Derek click his tongue against the back of his top front teeth. "Another super? How?"
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"I-I don't know." I looked down at the buildings, letting my feet dangle while adjusting the phone in the palm of my hand. Derek let out a low grunt under his breath while the tapping proceeded. "What do you think they want with Sam?" Derek clicked his jaw as the air stroked my ear.
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"I have as much information as you do," I argued, flying higher into the clouds. "I don't know what they wanted with Sam, but I can assume it's nothing good." Derek and I agreed, not because I knew we shared similar thoughts, but because of Sam. When he wanted to keep a secret, he was a master at it. Sam knew whatever enigmas he had hidden from us would catch up to him. It was just a matter of time.
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"Yeah, true," Derek admitted. "Are you heading to school?"
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"I'm thinking about grabbing a latte," I muttered sarcastically.
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"You know what caffeine does to your powers. I'm telling dad your secret if I have to call Sam." Derek's frustration showed through his voice. It enraged me because I was not too fond of it when Derek or Sam threatened to reveal my secret to my father.
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"Your dead meat if you say a word to dad about my powers," I snapped.
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Derek's finger pounded on the back of the phone again. "Don't threaten me, Superboy."
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"Don't call me that, Derek," I roared. No matter who called me that, I was not too fond of the word super boy either. Derek chuckled, and I shifted the phone in my palm and floated higher in the sky.
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"Relax," Derek urged. "I guess, at least, we can both agree that there is something Sam is not telling us. But whatever it is, we need to get it out of him, and you need to get to school."
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"If only someone would stop calling me on my way to class," I agreed with annoyance.
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"Don't mention it, Alpha," Derek muttered. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the phone in my palm again.
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"Good luck, Derek." I ended the call with a button click and flew off toward Phoenix High School.
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∆∆∆
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I was late again, considering it wasn't the first time. As I rushed to class, my sneakers squeaked down the hallway of Phoenix High School, but I timed myself, huffing with each step I took so I didn't trigger my super-speed by accident. I tripped on the freshly polished floor before my first-period classroom, falling and almost knocking my papers and books from my grasp.
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Mr. Branden, a middle-aged teacher in his early forties, lowered his glasses and looked out the door. The students ' gazes followed me as I entered the classroom and approached Mr. Branden's desk. Light giggles broke the ominous silence from the opposite corner of the room where Mark and his buddies sat.
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"Morning, Mr. Branden," I smiled. I set my notebook and papers on the empty desk in the front row.
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"Mr. Knight, you're running late yet again. Unless you have a good reason to share with the class, I'm considering giving you detention for the second time this year." Mr. Branden rearranged his papers on his desk.
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I sighed, avoiding Mr. Branden's scowl, slapping last night's homework into a bin. "My brother was driving me again, and he caught up with another morning police chase. He didn't have time to stop. I have a note."
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I wrestled with my bag again, yanking it open with force, and the contents spilled all over the floor. Mr. Branden, irritated by me, put his glasses into position on his nose. "Mr. Knight, that's when you catch the morning bus. I'm giving you one last warning." Mr. Branden chastised me.
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I gathered my belongings from the floor and slammed my note on Mr. Branden's desk. My classmates laughed as I kneeled to order more items from the ground and hit my head on the desk. Mark Reignson slapped hands with one of his friends in the background. Mr. Branden then quieted the class as I walked over to an empty back-row seat and sank against the chair.
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For a while, Mark was my worst enemy. Whether we have powers, there is always that one villain we all face. There was just one issue. I was in high school. Like every superhero, there are guidelines for bringing him down, but Mark seemed almost untouchable.
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A pencil fell from the girls' desk, rolling off the side, straight into my foot underneath my desk. This girl wasn't just any girl. Whenever I saw her, I had to fight my strong feelings for her and hope I didn't start floating in the middle of class.
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Even though Mia Reignson was Mark's cousin, I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat. She was the most stunning girl, but her looks were often deceiving. Mia flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and swiveled her head in my direction, her blue eyes gazing into mine.
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"Are you going to get that, James?" she purred. Engrossed in her beautiful blue eyes and mesmerized by her feathered features, I forgot I was in a classroom with many people. Her plump, blush lips curved into a slight grin as she delivered her poisonous words.
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"Well," As I leaned down to get her pencil, I couldn't quite get words out and instead felt sick.
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"Here's your pencil." I blushed bright red, handing it over, fighting weakness in my palms.
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She gripped her pencil as her lips pushed together. Mark cursed as Mia returned to her composition notebook, writing what Mr. Branden had etched onto the whiteboard. I looked to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Branden wrote this week's morning announcements in orange marker.
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"You know," she twisted back around in her seat as a mischievous smile appeared on her lips. My eyes widened, speechless. She was talking to me again. "In about a week, it will be October, and in about a month, Halloween. We're seeking volunteers for our Halloween blood drive coming soon."
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"Uh, I uh—" I stammered again. When I was seven years old, Sam had me guzzle a treatment he had made in the laboratory below the staircase in our home, and after Sam punctured my skin with a long, thick needle, I developed a phobia.
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After gaining my powers back, I was immune to needles, which were impossible to push through my powerful skin barrier, but it didn't stop me from hating the feeling of something poking through my skin.
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"I-I uh, I can't."
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"So, you'll be there?" She raised a question. After giving in to her manipulative game, I ultimately gave her the wrong impression.
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"Sure, I'll be there." I forgot Mr. Branden was talking and turned beet red and class, staring at me moments later in the silent room. Finally satisfied, Mia turned back around.
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"This is a classroom, not free period, Mr. Knight. Please keep your voices down." Mr. Branden raged. Mark's side of the room erupted in laughter once more. My cheeks blushed bright red, and I dropped my head into my arms and chewed my lips.
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Fuck.
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"Yes, sir," I replied, lifting my head from the desk. Mr. Branden said nothing else to me after that.
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∆∆∆
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Aside from the faint murmuring throughout the building, you could hear a pin drop in the quiet cafeteria. I was alone near the exit, practicing a breathing technique Sam had taught me years before to take control of my powers when needed. I wasn't sure how he thought that would help me since I wasn't the incredible hulk, and angry outbursts didn't activate my powers. However, maybe he knew something I didn't know.
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Mark was only a few tables away as I glared at him. He was my greatest enemy and Phoenix high school's most well-known provocateur. Since the sixth grade, Mark has targeted me with his dirty jokes and demeanors.
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He was Phoenix's most loyal citizen because he was the son of the police chief, Michael Reignson. Mark dealt with the teachers kissing his ass for their job security, but I knew him better. He wasn't as frightening as his reputation suggested. As much as I wanted to be the good guy at school, I was no hero, and my family knew it.
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Mark watched me from the corner of his eye while snatching an apple off Mason Jacob's tray. Mason rolled his eyes and grunted but seemed to avoid an argument.
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My phone rang, and I was almost startled as I flipped it over on the table, checking the newest message. Sam texted me to check in on me during the school day, even if it wasn't an emergency. "You good," Sam wrote. I tapped the table gently and thought of a response.
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"Besides having a bruised ego, yeah," I replied.
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"Ha, too bad your powers don't work on bruised egos."
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"Not even funny, Sam," I mused, accidentally sending him a partial wink emoji. I facepalmed and shut down my phone after a fiery breath brushed my neck.
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"Who are you texting this time, Knight?" Mark hovered over my shoulder, grinning.
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"Go away," I snarled. Mark's eyes drove toward my phone screen, and a smirk crept across his lips. Jocks surrounded me like sharks in an aquarium during dinner time, and I couldn't dodge them and find an escape route. I was a sitting duck.
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"Was that your uncle? I can't stand him. What a freak, just like—" I clutched the sides of my tray as my fingers dug into the plastic.
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"Shut up, Mark," I growled through clenched teeth. Everyone in the cafeteria had their eyes trained on the two of us. Mark clicked his tongue and grabbed my shoulder, his fingers pressing into my shoulders, squeezing my collarbone.
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"Was that my cousin you were talking to earlier?" Mark leaned against the table bench. My fists curled even more into the plastic. Mark tilted his head to the side and sucked in a sharp breath.
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"I don't believe she's your type, honestly." He laughed. I looked around, still trying to find a way out, but they surrounded me. "What's up with your father? Still a lowlife that deserves to get kicked off the force. And your brother? He's an incredible cop, but a dog on a fucking leash." Mark and the other boys barked at me before I gathered my belongings and pushed past the jocks, walking away from the table, infuriated with Mark.
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As I stood in the opened double doorway, Mark yelled, "Are you forgetting something, freak?"
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I turned on my heels, watching Mark wave my phone. His grin widened, and my phone chirped once more. Son of a bitch. I paced back to the table, slamming my bag to the floor, my papers and books falling out and strewn across the floor.
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"What do you want from me, Mark?" I asked, panic settling in my gut. I took another deep inhale and exhaled.
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"To fuck with you a little," he said. I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my palm from becoming bloodied. I sprang for my phone, but Mark snatched it, threw his arm in the air, and held it above his head, towering over me about a few feet.
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"Let's see who's texting you," he said. My screen came to life when Mark pressed the home button. He hammered my four-digit code and looked for the most recent text.
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"Looks like Daddy Knight is reminding you to take out the trash tonight. We can do that for him right now." Mark lowered the phone to my level and dangled it before my face. Then, he raised the phone, and I stretched out and grabbed the air. "Why don't you jump, Knight?" He muttered.
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I jumped high, almost floating, but failed to grab my cell phone. As I rushed back and forth, Mark tossed the phone between his circle of friends, playing hot potato and monkey in the middle.
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"Come on, Knight. I'm sure you're quicker than that." Mark teased as Gareth, another of Mark's jock friends, chucked my phone at Lucas. It lightly skimmed my palm, and I watched it skid across the cafeteria floor. Mark's buddies grabbed my arms and held me still before him. "Are you going to get that, Freak?" He yelled.
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My teeth dug into my lower lip, trying not to avoid drawing blood, huffed, and sank my fingernails into my palm. As my fingers unwrapped, blood dribbled from my hand. In a split second, I w, as passed. I wrenched from the arms of the ignorant bunch of boys after Mark. The jocks exchanged glances as I flung forward briefly before pulling back.
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Slam.
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My knuckles dug into Mark's face. Mark didn't even flinch on immediate impact. He wiped the blood from his lips and chuckled, smearing more blood across his face.
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"Thanks, Knight," he whispered. I threw my books, notebooks, papers, and pens into my backpack, grabbed my phone off the tiled floor, and dashed out of the cafeteria, knowing I would have to hear Sam, Derek, or my father lecture me that evening.
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