《Infinity: Hunter's Mark》 1. Happy Birthday The classroom hums with the restless energy of eager teenagers. Pens tap against desks. Feet jitter on the tile. The clock ticks down the final seconds. Three, two, one: ring. The bell frees us, and I bolt for the hallway, zigzagging through crowds of other students, and racing toward my locker. Passing section after section, noticing this year more than others that the hallways are adorned with the school colors, red with orange trim, and a plethora of Titan Legion swag. Every hallway is littered with it. It¡¯s become the indomitable spirit of most high schools to have a worship-like status with the Titan Legion. They are worshipped even more than the football team, whose players run the school short of taking the teacher''s paychecks. Funny how most of those guys who don¡¯t move on to sports careers end up with the Titan Legion. ¡°Welcome to Aurora Heights High School, home of the Whirling Devils¡± is plastered in every conceivable portion of the school ad nauseam. "Hey Hunter, what''s the rush? Need a hand?" Mason shouts at me from down the hall. Damnit, I thought I could beat him here. I¡¯m not sure which time is worse; when he uses his fists to get his point across or his fire to burn my dignity away. Peering over my shoulder, he lets sparks with flames flicker from his fingertips. Standing at a hefty six foot two, the guy has at least three inches on me. The biggest difference is his physique, being the star quarterback he¡¯s built like a damn brick wall. I¡¯m more of the lanky, gangly, built as sturdy as a bundle of sticks tied together variety. Mason gestures his fingers in my direction sending a volley of quarter-sized fireballs at my feet. The temperature rises in my shoes. Stumbling to the ground attempting to put out the fire, the neanderthal laughs at me. After a few seconds of flailing on the floor, there¡¯s a rush of cold on my feet and the burning sensation dissipates. The miniature blizzard I¡¯m witnessing begins to abate quickly. Looking up my eyes lock with Ashley, Mason''s ex-girlfriend, and the secret love of my life. "You''re such a jerk Mason," she yells at him. Mason chuckles with his trademark sneer that makes me want to piledrive his face into a stack of broken glass. "It''s too much fun. They take it like a target dummy," Mason says as his buddies laugh and tug at his team¡¯s football jacket. Ashley holds out her hand and I take it, pulling myself up and brushing my shoes off from the burnt strings. No major damage, except to my pride. She¡¯s wearing her trademark sundress and cowboy boots which gives the impression she¡¯s only a few inches shorter than me. She has that Southern Belle charm mixed in with the right amount of city to not make it her whole identity. Her look is quite the contrast to her powers. I feel maybe her mark developed out of a need to contradict Mason¡¯s, seeing as how he¡¯s such an ill-tempered and hot-headed douchebag. "This is why I broke up with you. You say idiotic shit like that. You know they have nowhere near your power; he doesn''t even have his powers yet,¡± Ashley yells at him. Even if I did, it probably wouldn''t be high enough to make a difference anyway. Mason continues to laugh mumbling something incoherent and walks away with his other jock buddies. "Thanks," I say to Ashley. It''s bad enough to deal with him, now I need to be rescued by a girl. I don¡¯t have the body for the damsel-in-distress trope. "Darlin, don''t worry about him. He won''t be here for much longer. You know the Titan Legion will come for him.¡± Working up the nerve to look at her, "Yeah, and god help us all when that happens. He would probably light them on fire instead of the enemy because he would think it''s funny.¡± She lets out a small snort. "Always quick with the humor, Hunter," she says, handing me the textbook I dropped earlier. Brushing off my clothes and straightening up against the locker, a smirk forms on the edge of my lips, "Yeah that''s me, the comedian. Maybe I''ll get the power of comedy and make people laugh to death.¡± ¡°You know, if you stand up to him it might make him stop. Bullies like him get encouraged when you don¡¯t do anything,¡± Ashley says pointing out the obvious. ¡°The guy is bigger than most boxers. What do you expect me to do? He¡¯d put me in the hospital if I ever did anything. And his parents would make my mom pay the bill for hurting his hand after beating my face into pudding,¡± I retort. ¡°You need to think more highly of yourself. He¡¯s not that much bigger than you. I can tell you¡¯re no slouch either,¡± Ashley says giving me a weird up-and-down scan. I can¡¯t figure out why. ¡°Well, I¡¯m more of a lover, not a fighter. It¡¯s been mostly a solo career though,¡± I say in obvious self-deprecation because I can¡¯t handle any form of compliment. Ashley chuckles at my musing but doesn¡¯t respond. ¡°Anyways, thanks for the help, I need to get home before my mom freaks out again because I''m two minutes behind schedule.¡± Ashley grabs my wrist and forcefully makes me walk with her before she even speaks. "Hey sugar, no problem, I''ll give you a ride so you don''t waste time on the buses, should make it home in plenty of time then.¡± I don''t want to decline because her forcing me to come along is working up toward many fantasies I had growing up about her, even though I know it''s not going there. And why does her grip feel like it could crush steel? "All right, all right," I say, "you don''t have to pull my arm out of my socket.¡± She tilts her chin up and wrinkles her nose. ¡°Sorry, Hun. Didn¡¯t mean to hurt you,¡± she says, and I swear there¡¯s a smirk in her voice. Okay, I have officially entered the twilight zone. Mason must have barbecued me in the hallway and now I''m dead. I go along with it, maybe I hit my head on the way down and I¡¯m reading too far into this. The ride home is awkward, at least for me. My crush on Ashley, which I¡¯ve had for years, is giving me mixed signals. This is more contact with her in one day than an entire month. We mostly chat about school and what a turd Mason has turned out to be. Before he got his powers, he wasn¡¯t that bad. He could still be a jerk at times, but he wasn¡¯t a bully. We pull up to my house and notice my mom is home since her car is in the driveway. Thanking her for the ride and grabbing the door handle, she places her hand on my knee, "Look, don''t worry about Mason. He''s a jerk and will always be that way. Stay the way you are and don''t let people like him get under your skin and change you.¡± As fast as she takes her hand off my knee she leans over and gives me what seems to be a second longer than necessary kiss on the cheek. Yep, I died in that hallway. She smiles and says, "Have a good birthday." Thanking her again my hand pulls the handle, the door opens, and my legs power walk from her car to my house. This is way too weird. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Gravel crunches underfoot while walking past the two-car garage toward the front door. For someone struggling to get by like my mom, it¡¯s a pretty nice two-story house. It has a simple light gray exterior on wood siding with a covered entryway, overgrown bushes, and vines creeping into the walkway. My fault, I¡¯ve been putting off the yard work because quite frankly, I hate it. The exterior windows are painted with white trim, and there is a small front porch area that extends to the first set of windows. A small sitting area that we never use. Shaking off the unusual interaction that transpired, the door clicks shut. "Hey Mom, I''m home.¡± Sounds of rusting in the dining room guide my legs to walk around the kitchen to see my mom putting dinner plates out on the table. "Hey sweetie, I¡¯m cooking dinner a little early today if that¡¯s okay. I figured you would want to go out with your friends for your birthday earlier tonight since you have exams tomorrow and can¡¯t stay out late.¡± It smells mouthwatering, a glazed ham is my guess as the aroma invades my nostrils. My mom is always an amazing cook. "That''s fine, I''m starving anyway, and it smells delicious. You dropped the ball working in a boring cubicle. You should have been a chef." "Oh, you think so? Well, I couldn''t stand working in that heat all day. And thanks for insulting the job that puts this food on the table," she says glaring at me. "Hey, I''m only saying maybe it''s your true calling." "Doubt that. How was school today?" "Good. Just a normal day as ever." I don''t want to burden her with my problems at school regarding Mason and his goons. She has enough on her plate as it is rather than worrying about something that is essentially part of my daily routine at this point. We chat for a while about our day until dinner is finished cooking. It¡¯s not long until I finish my meal with hungry appreciation. "So, are you going out tonight?" my mom asks while putting the dishes away. "Yeah, going bowling with a few friends." "Which friends if you don''t mind me asking?" "Rick, Benny, and Remy" "All right, well have fun. I''m not giving you a curfew tonight but don''t be out extremely late. It''s still a school night,¡± she reminds me as she loads the dishwasher. "I know, don''t worry. Everyone else is in the same boat." ¡°Oh and here,¡± she says as she ruffles through her purse quickly. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t want a party or cake or even presents for your birthday, so you can have this.¡± My mom hands me a small stack of cash. ¡°Happy Birthday, spend it however you like.¡± ¡°Thanks, Mom,¡± excitement filled my voice. It looks to be about seventy-five dollars. Plenty of money to pay for games and drinks tonight. After dinner, I dress and call Rick to pick me up. Scanning my room looking for my hat, pictures framed on the wall and dresser catch my attention. Many include Rick and me, usually playing games or an activity like fishing. It¡¯s been almost eight years since we met. Through scanning the pictures, it seems every shirt he¡¯s wearing has something nerdy on it, from Marvel superhero stuff to Transformers and even Pok¨¦mon. He wants to go bowling and it¡¯s no secret why. It''s one of the few things he can use his power to win at something. There¡¯s no harm in indulging him. It makes him happy, and he teases me about winning every time while I feign being distraught. I don¡¯t think he realizes it¡¯s my birthday and not his. Eventually, Rick arrives to pick me up from my house in his barely functioning hunk of metal you can call a car, and we head toward the bowling alley. The plethora of dents, rust spots, and quirks associated with even starting the thing shocks me that it runs at all. "The prodigal son returns," he says giving me a mock salute. "I wouldn''t call myself that in any sense of the word," I say saluting him back. "Hey, who knows, you may get a thirty-five-point mark so you can kick Mason''s ass." "Yeah, and I¡¯m also an Olympian god in disguise. I merely enjoy getting turned into a bonfire for his amusement.¡± "Stranger things have happened." "Like what?" "I don¡¯t know." "Exactly," I state, hopefully getting my point across. "Well, someone needs to do something about him. With a thirty-three he''s super dangerous. We need a cool kickass group of us like the Avengers to deal with bullies like him," he says with a hint of anger, likely remembering his most recent encounter with Mason. "The only person who can do something about him is another like him. And all those alpha wannabe types stick together,¡± I roll my eyes at his obsession with wanting to mimic the superheroes in comic books. "So, we just wallow away in this vicious cycle?" Rick says depressingly. "Pretty much." We pull into the parking lot around six in the evening. The others are waiting out front for us. Rick and I jump out of Rick''s car, doors creaking like they¡¯ve been bonded together with the hinges, and walk up to greet Benny and Remy. "Hiya Hunter! Happy Birfday!" Remy says excitedly. She gives me a miniature bear hug and presses herself into me tightly. After she lets go, she keeps her face merely inches from mine, our noses almost touching. "So, you ready-." "Space." "Huh?" Remy says as she tilts her head inquisitively. I swear this girl was a cat or dog in another life. "Space please." "Oh sorry," Remy says taking a step back. She''s in her usual attire, nearly everything black. She''s wearing a black cotton corset over a black and red blouse with a black skirt and fishnet stockings. Her steel-toed combat boots complete the ensemble in addition to her jet-black undercut hairstyle with bright red dyed streaks. Not exactly what I would consider bowling attire, but the girl doesn''t stray from her comfort zone. She leans far more into her Japanese heritage rather than her French, especially with her obsession with anything cutesy. I¡¯d expect she has a sort of goth or emo personality, but she is as bubbly as any of the cheerleaders at school. Benny walks up beside Remy, and my eyes notice something off about him. ¡°Look at you¡ªno Hawaiian shirt today? That¡¯s a shocker,¡± I say, genuinely surprised he owns anything else. ¡°Yeah man, gotta rock the norm sometimes. Change it up a little bit,¡± Benny says gesturing to his plain white t-shirt and brown cargo pants. ¡°Yeah, you could also kick Mason¡¯s ass for us to get him off our back. That¡¯d be a nice change,¡± I say in a somewhat pleading yet sarcastic tone. ¡°Bro you know I would if he ever did something serious. But he¡¯s just messing with you guys because you don¡¯t stand up for yourself. You know the second I do something he¡¯ll have me booted off the team. I don¡¯t like it but football is my future and I can¡¯t throw it away over Mason being a petty jerk. He knows better than to do that around me or do something really bad to you guys,¡± Benny says trying to defend himself. I¡¯m mostly joking, I get where he¡¯s coming from. I know he walks a fine line between being a team player and being our friend. But it still sucks that everyone says: stand up to the guy who is double your size, it¡¯ll work out fine. "Hey man, like, you ready to go bowling or you gonna bust my chops all night out here?" Benny asks. "Yeah let''s go," I say walking toward the entrance. We walk through the doors and are greeted by a large sign at the entrance. NO USE OF POWERS PERMITTED. VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED. Rick looks at the sign and sighs, "Well that''s new." I know he''s sad because he was planning on using his powers to win. "Yeah, dude. They been havin'' problems with stupid people using powers. Guess it got outta hand," Benny says tapping the sign. "No biggie. I don''t need to use powers to win against you guys,¡± Rick says with an obvious lack of confidence. ¡°Then why¡¯d you use them at all?¡± Benny retorts. Rick folds his arms and mutters, ¡°Whatever.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go bowling please,¡± I motion toward the counter. Of course, Benny and Remy completely obliterate Rick and me. Strike after strike you would think Benny¡¯s power is to be the best bowler alive. By the end, we have less than half the points they accumulate. Remy, doing her trademark victory dance doesn¡¯t help Rick with his self-esteem. He''s usually the one gloating relentlessly at the end of the games. We play a few more rounds, switching up teams so at least we can have a chance of winning. The night is mostly spent trying to get my mind off tomorrow because, for people like us, it¡¯s not a fun day. At around eleven it¡¯s time to head home, partly because losing all the time isn¡¯t fun and I¡¯m running out of the money my mom gave me. Too many bowling alley burgers and pizza, which doesn¡¯t sit well with my stomach. Leaning against the passenger door waiting for Rick to unlock the car, Rick stops me before we get in. "Yo, what do you think you''re going to get? Do you think it''ll be something cool? I bet you''re gonna get higher than Mason.¡± I laugh, "Yeah, and as likely to have a one hundred forty like RED." Rick stops opening his car door, "Dude keep that to yourself, you know it''s become like a taboo to talk about him that way." I raise an eyebrow, "Yeah but it still happened, that''s why the Titan Legion exists in case anyone like that pops up again.¡± Rick doesn¡¯t push the conversation so we get in the car and drive home. Thoughts about RED dance in my mind as I stare out of the window, the moonlit night shining lightly on the dewy tree leaves as we pass by in a blur. We both ride silently, as cheering me up is pointless. We pull up to my house and I tell Rick I''ll see him tomorrow at school. I''m not excited the way most kids are. I don¡¯t care because I know what it will be. Weak. My mom is already asleep. My feet are heavy with the weight of my Surge tonight, and they guide me subconsciously to my room. The house is eerily quiet as my legs carry me up the stairs, my upper body teetering like it¡¯s barely attached. I change into my pajamas, some basketball shorts, and a beat-up shirt, and get in bed. The room is full of my life experiences knowing all of these things captured on my walls and in pictures will define who I become tomorrow. At least, that¡¯s the theory. Powers are likely based on personality. Sometimes I think they don¡¯t know shit and make it up to give people peace of mind. It doesn¡¯t take me long before that blissful eternity envelops me and I wait for the new day. 2. Infinity My alarm clock startles me awake having an epic tantrum. I. Hate. Alarm. Clocks. The noise has become synonymous with the thought, "Welcome to another day of misery, population: You." The bed calls to my soul but resisting allows me to meander out of it and head to the shower. It''s there, the mark. The feel of the power in me is unmistakable. It¡¯s hard to describe. Similar to a goose-bump feeling but it¡¯s swirling everywhere and not quite coming to the surface of your skin. Strangely, no one told me how intense it felt for the first time. Still, part of me does not wish to see it. Just need a little more time not to be disappointed. A little extra time in the shower knowing the day I¡¯m going to have is a welcomed gift at the moment. The mockery, especially from Mason, is not something I¡¯m looking forward to. A few times out of curiosity I try to access my power but get nothing in return for my effort. They say it can take a few days to get a feel for it because it''s likened to getting a new limb and trying to figure out how to use it. After my shower, I start to dry off in front of the mirror. Placing my hands on the counter, and looking into my eyes, the words in my mind tell me not to look but there¡¯s no choice. It¡¯s the only way to know for sure. What would it be? How many points are on the mark? And what color? If it¡¯s a one-point mark my life is over. I¡¯ll never live it down. Anxiousness takes over, and my body turns around of its own accord. There in the mirror, something unexplainable stares back. The immediate fear is rooted in the unknown foreign object on my back. It¡¯s not a normal mark. It¡¯s a symbol. The infinity symbol. Whereas a normal mark looks similar to a Lichtenberg figure, this one is almost smooth and shaped perfectly beside a few points branching off of the symbol. It seems as though my mark was developing and branched off into this symbol where it would normally peak. Darker than anything I¡¯ve ever seen, reminiscent of a hole into nothingness on my back. Specks of white invade my vision and cause me to close and rub my eyes. It¡¯s as if it isn¡¯t meant to be seen. There was only ever one person with this color. RED. But the symbol? Putting a shirt on I collect myself and leave the bathroom. "Sweetie, I made you some birthday breakfast. Come downstairs!" my mom shouts from the kitchen. "Be right there Mom!" I can''t tell anyone about this. Even I don''t know what it means. What if I''m secretly a psycho like him? The Titan Legion will kill me without question to prevent that threat. Telling my mom isn¡¯t an option either. If she finds out she¡¯ll be in danger too. My feet stumble, trying to hurry downstairs to grab breakfast. Pulling the chair out I sit down abruptly, attempting to seem as if nothing is wrong. "Well, let me see it, sweetie," my mom says tugging at my shirt. Pulling it away from her trying to act like it''s me being shy, an idea strikes me. Adjusting in my seat trying to avoid the awkwardness of outright lying, my brain makes a valiant effort at being somewhat useful, "It''s a shielding four-point mark.¡± Choosing shielding is my best option because it¡¯s a defensive power and notoriously the most difficult to use. They require intense concentration and can take weeks to manifest their first shield training diligently. "Oh, my baby is a protector. How cool. Even though it''s a low number it is still useful for certain things," she says trying to reassure me. At a four the only thing it''s good for is an umbrella¡ªfor a small rodent. Unfortunately, I¡¯m not that lucky, and I have something known as death incarnate. I¡¯m thinking about asking my mom to call me out sick to school, but there are two major tests today, and missing them isn¡¯t an option. And it won''t change the fact that I would have to go back eventually. It¡¯s probably best to suck it up and go to school¡ªagainst my better judgment. Grabbing my backpack, the weight of it seems heavier today¡ªfull of my crushed hopes and dreams. Each step to the bus stop is slow and labored, a million thoughts running through my head the entire way there. Pacing at the bus stop, my brain fails to rationalize what I saw on my back. The only thing it does is give me more questions and anxiety. After what seems like an eternity the bus finally arrives. Shuffling in, making myself look as inconspicuous as possible, my usual seat is empty which prompts a small praise to escape my lips. Head down, my body shifts as far into the cushion as possible, expending every effort to avoid unwanted attention. Avoiding everyone at school is tough, to say the least, especially Rick, but I still manage to finish three classes so far without seeing anyone. Thankfully both tests are part of my first and second classes. It helps to keep my mind focused, though it¡¯s also a major distraction. Probably could have done better if I didn¡¯t have this god-forsaken symbol on my back giving me a panic attack. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A sense of calm washes over me and faith builds¡ªif I''m careful I can pull this off and make it home without talking to anyone. One mistake can mean prison or worse. Still don¡¯t have the faintest clue of what I¡¯m going to do going forward. Surviving one day at a time is my only goal at the moment. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, and the hallway fills with students heading to their next class. Walking from one end of the school to the other for my History class is ridiculous, and the layout earns a silent curse. Halfway there, a commotion breaks out in a side hallway with students gathered around, egging something on. That''s when I see it. Mason is attacking Rick. He¡¯s forcing Rick to use his powers to deflect small shots of fire at him. If Mason wants, he could easily overpower him, but he enjoys playing with his prey. He begins increasing his pace, singeing small pieces of skin with what seems like first-degree burns. Without thinking I immediately push my way through the crowd and shove Mason into the lockers, standing in front of Rick. Mason has about thirty pounds on me and he¡¯s considered lethal not even at his maximum power level. So basically, I¡¯m a fucking idiot. "Stop you asshole, don''t you see you''re hurting him!" I scream at Mason. I know I''m going to get torched for this but I''m tired of his crap. Rick stands behind me exhausted, with small burns in his clothes. "Dude you''re crazy, you know his temper. He may kill you without thinking," Rick says in concern. "Kill him? I''m going to send his teeth to his mother in a separate bag because he''s going to be nothing but ashes!" Mason grunts out through clenched teeth. He''s turned a bright red, not from his power but from blood rushing to his face in anger. "So, you turned eighteen today, what are you sporting that you grew a pair huh? I could use a good throw-down," Mason says furiously. "None of your business." This isn''t going to end well. "Oh, I think it is, my curiosity is getting the best of me. Hey guys, grab him," Mason says as he motions to his other jock buddies. Before I can react, they pin me up against the lockers with my back facing them, arms pulled down and pressed against the bottom lockers, unable to move an inch. I can barely hear Ashley shouting for them to stop over the rest of the students egging on the fight. The taste of metal in my mouth as his teammates press my face against the grated doors. The smell of their rancid breath as they struggle to hold me in place, huffing in my direction, makes me gag internally. "No. Stop! Don''t!¡± I shout but Mason doesn''t care. It won¡¯t help but it¡¯s all I¡¯ve got. "What''s wrong Hunter? Afraid everyone will see your shame? I bet it''s a one-point mark," Mason laughs as he grabs my shirt. In one swift motion, he rips my buttoned shirt off and the entire hallway is filled with gasps. "What the hell is that?" Mason shouts in panic and fear. He takes the stance of a cornered animal¡ªpure instinct and pure terror. His reaction isn¡¯t to run, but to unleash a deadly attack. Mason channels his power into his hands, forging a densely packed fireball, primed to kill. It happens in an instant¡ªtoo fast to be his full power, but still more than enough to maim me. Or worse. He doesn¡¯t stop to consider the weight of his actions. In his eyes, RED stands before him. The ultimate threat to the world itself. With a symbol on his back that fights against his own knowledge of reality. At full power he will kill me but even at half power my body can end up with serious injuries. The hallway fills with a black haze. My eyes glaze over. My vision fades into overwhelming darkness, darker than anything I¡¯ve ever seen, yet my vision is crystal clear. I turn around right before the full force of his blast reaches me. Out of pure instinct, my power activates and sends his blast into the void. A small flat disk appears to protect me and disappears as quickly. "Oh, you like showing off your little fire tricks? Cute. Let me show you what real power looks like!" I shout in a rage bellowing from depths only Hell is acquainted with. Fuck him. He¡¯s been bullying nearly the entire school for half the year since he got his powers. Why should I give a shit if he gets what''s coming to him? I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m doing this. I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m doing. I¡¯m running off pure rage and instinct. It feels so goddamn good. I reach into the terrifying abyss that opens a wellspring of power, and a spherical amalgamation of my hate starts to grow in my palm. It hurts, my body isn¡¯t used to it. More and more it pulls from some unknown source of energy as it seeps into every part of my body. It resembles a raging turbulent sea, seemingly without end. The sensation worms its way through my body, the temperature so cold it burns with a raging inferno. Papers and books begin to fly about the hallway furiously. The energy emanating from me is causing a localized windstorm. I''m going to wipe these good-for-nothing shitheads out of existence and couldn¡¯t care less about the aftermath. The anger and rage are intoxicating. I feel free. "Stop man! No, don¡¯t!" Mason¡¯s screams almost seem muffled. I barely register what he is saying. Another voice catches the edge of my attention, but can¡¯t make out who it is. It¡¯s soft, lingering as a delicate flower in my mind. It¡¯s laced with concern and¡­something else? As I lift my hand to obliterate these degenerates a pair of the softest lips touches mine. Lips that are sweet, sensual, loving, and warm. It tastes of honey and beeswax lip balm. The haze recedes from my eyes, the sphere blinks out of existence, and my vision clears. It''s Ashley and she is kissing me. Not just a peck. She is full-on parents-aren¡¯t-home-make-out-session with me. She breaks off the kiss and looks at me in the eyes, "I''ve wanted to do that for a while now, I figured this was the perfect time since you needed to calm down.¡± Completely caught off guard, my brain in a state of shock, she continues back to my lips for a few more seconds and sends me into a pile of mush. This is going to get very interesting. And severely complicated. 3. She loves me, She loves me not? When Ashley finally pries herself from my lips a quiet moan escapes me at the loss, something I''m not proud of, and reality comes crashing back. Losing control like that almost made me kill someone. If it wasn''t for her Mason would be dead and by the feel of the power maybe everyone in the hallway. This is too dangerous. Losing control like that can never happen again. Glancing around the hallway reveals the complete terror on all the faces around me. It isn''t merely fear. They aren''t only scared of me. They are terrified, not only of what happened but of what I''m capable of. I represent the epitome of death. In an instant, all the faces in the hallway transition into confusion. Most of the students begin asking each other how they got there. Which in turn makes Ashley and me adopt the same expression. In a flash I pull my shirt up and put it back on before anyone notices, luckily by this point, my back is facing the lockers. It seems Mason only broke a couple of the buttons. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would advise you to get to class right now considering you are already late. That is unless you all want detention," a loud booming voice reverberates from the end of the hall. Standing there with his ever-so-ominous presence is our principal Mr. Ranes. He¡¯s a monstrously large man and very intimidating to boot. His ebony skin, a stark contrast to his light gray suit, makes him appear even more menacing. He¡¯s always fair with us, but I hate that he never did anything about problems with Mason and his friends. But what is even more confusing is what¡¯s happening right now. "Mr. Delmonte, come with me to my office. Now," he demands. Oh great, this can''t be good. If he witnessed what happened he''s going to report me to the Titan Legion. And from rumors he''s a Brute, he can probably rip me in two before I can blink much less run. I want Ashley to come with me, but she still has to go to class. Even so, it¡¯s clear he won¡¯t allow it anyway. Ashley rustles her fingers through my hair attempting to dislodge the various small bits of debris that embedded themselves there. It''s grown out a bit more than I usually let it. It¡¯s mostly a disheveled hobo look in my opinion, but girls love it for some reason. I¡¯m considering dying it black because light brown makes me feel even more average. ¡°Best I can do, we¡¯ll talk later,¡± she says as she saunters away toward class. That absolute goddess is interested in me? No way. Walking behind Mr. Ranes towards his office, every step feels heavier and heavier as if I¡¯m knee-deep wading through molasses. My mind is racing with the possibilities, and they always end up with me dead or locked away in a deep dark hole forever. When we turn the corner of the main hallway, we finally reach his office. He opens the door and points for me to go in without saying a word. He walks around his side of the large cherry oak desk, "Take a seat Mr. Delmonte," which comes out as an order. With a huff and loud thud, he falls back into his chair. He is a hulking man. He has every bit of the physique of a professional wrestler or bodybuilder. Mr. Ranes is the perfect principal to corral a bunch of young rowdy teenagers. His office isn¡¯t what I expected, considering it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve ever been in the principal¡¯s office. It¡¯s weirdly minimalistic. Only a couple of frames with his degrees and a few plaques hang on the walls. Not a single picture of a family member sits on his desk or anywhere for that matter: mostly normal school paperwork and other office supplies. The walls are a bland light gray that can be almost mistaken for an off-white. They have a few patches scattered about, probably from previous principals. Even though Mr. Ranes has only been here for two years, it¡¯s still weirdly emptier than expected. "Well Mr. Delmonte, I won''t ask you what that was. We all have our secrets. As you can probably tell I have mine," he says as he wipes the bead of sweat on his large forehead with his handkerchief. He seems barely able to hold himself together. ¡°Was that you that made them forget? I thought you were a strength type, not a memory type," I say a bit aghast at the revelation. "I am both Mr. Delmonte. That is my secret," he says with what appears to be a slight sense of relief. It feels similar to a friend admitting a secret that¡¯s burdening them. I¡¯m shocked. I¡¯ve heard about Multis, people with the rare ability to use more than one. Usually only two and even more rare three. And 99.99% of those are below the lethal threshold which still makes them essentially useless to the Titan Legion. Mouth wide open I stammer, "There''s no way, Multi¡¯s are some of the rarest people. On top of that you wiped the memories of all those students in the hallway, how powerful are you?¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t up for discussion,¡± he states bluntly. ¡°To do what you did means you would have to be one of the strongest people in the Titan Legion. Why are you here?¡± I say still reeling from the revelation. A low guttural laugh escapes his lips, "Far from it. And I have heard not-so-great things about that little organization. I prefer a private life. Nobody knows about me here except you now. It¡¯s only fair that we both know each other¡¯s secret." I¡¯m floored. Multis are one in a million if not more and my principal is one of them. "Just wondering but what did you do to them? I mean Rick is burned up pretty good and you took away a good minute or two of their memory,¡± I say curiously, digging a bit farther than I probably should. Mr. Ranes turns to face the wall that adorns his degrees and accomplishments, "What I did goes against everything I stand for. Using that ability on my students is incomprehensible. But in your situation, it was the only solution. I left the memories intact of what happened before you got there and took away everything else. I couldn''t come up with an excuse so I simply felt it would be better if they stayed confused about it. Besides that, wiping memories is much quicker. Replacing them is time-consuming and difficult, near impossible sometimes.¡± He''s right, if he alters the memories there¡¯s a chance to recover them. Better safe than sorry. "Listen closely Mr. Delmonte, you have a power only ever seen once and it came from one of the most notorious psychopaths of our time. Trust is going to be a rare commodity for you. I didn''t wipe your girlfriend¡¯s memory because she seems to be able to snap you back to reality. I figure it should stay that way.¡± I look at him puzzled and flattered, "Uh, she''s not my girlfriend sir." "Well," he chuckles under his breath, "it certainly looked that way, and I believe she thinks she is." Oh great, add another reason for Meltdown Mason to try and roast me again. "You can go, Mr. Delmonte, but remember what I said," Mr. Ranes states as he hands me a late slip and points towards the door. ¡°Also, I feel I should reiterate, that you know my secret, and I know yours. Remember that if you feel like confessing to one of your friends about me. I¡¯m willing to help you as much as you are willing to help yourself. And telling your friend about my secret because you think you can trust them is highly ill-advised,¡± he says with a stare that insinuates I¡¯ll be back to shitting diapers if I ever tell anyone. ¡°Yes sir,¡± I respond with wobbly legs. Man, he is scary. Standing up, my legs barely holding me, I start to leave but remember we have yet to discuss the other elephant in the room. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "Mr. Ranes, you haven''t said anything about my mark.¡± The principal shuffles in his chair and carries a grim expression. "I only saw you use your powers, not your mark. To be honest, the less I know the better, I''m not quite sure I would like to know anyway. From what I saw, I imagine it could be higher than mine." I nod in agreement and walk out of the door. Talk about the most intense fifteen minutes of my life. I¡¯m not sure what to do about my situation. While I appreciate what he did with the other students, he¡¯s of no help in giving me some kind of direction. Maybe he¡¯s as lost as I am on a solution. Walking to my next class, lost in thought¡ªso much so that I nearly walk straight into a trash can. Even that damn thing has the school mascot on it: a whirling devil, a red tornado with devil horns. No matter where you look, there¡¯s either a banner for the football team or the Titan Legion. In this era of powers, strength is worshipped, and weakness is a burden. The Titan Legion puts on a grand show of protecting the nation and its people, but in reality, they treat them like they¡¯re barely worth the effort. Now that Mason doesn''t remember a thing about what happened, he will be back to his old routine of pummeling the lanky one. The universe gets a special kick out of irony, doesn''t it? Especially in my case because I single-handedly got Mason off my back for good only to have it revert to the way it was. It¡¯s one more concern for me to lose control again and next time Mr. Ranes might not be there to do his Vulcan mind wipe thing. Reaching my destination, the classroom door creaks open. A silent, almost shameful, walk to the teacher¡¯s desk where the note I¡¯m holding finds its place and she motions me silently to sit down. Sliding into my seat a silent thanks goes out to whatever deity will listen that no one from the incident is here. I¡¯m still wrestling with the idea of Ashley kissing me. Part of my brain insists it didn¡¯t even happen. The other part argues that it did¡ªbut there has to be a reason. And yet, I can¡¯t stop thinking about it. The way it felt. The way she kissed me. The feel of her against me. Glances from other students are accompanied by puzzled expressions and it takes me a moment to realize why. An ear-to-ear grin on my face. Daydreaming about Ashley has that effect. The majority of the class drags on excruciatingly slow, which leaves me staring at the clock and watching the seconds go by, tick by tick. Replaying her lips on mine over and over. Yeah, an hour ago the school was nearly destroyed because of me and I''m smiling and giggling in my head like a love-struck preteen. But, true to form, I can¡¯t just enjoy it and need to overanalyze every second of it, obsessing over what it all means. She only did that to get you to stop. But why kiss me again? To keep you from doing it again of course! The thought turns over and over, impossible to figure out. My brain does not possess the capacity to understand a dynamic where a girl of Ashley¡¯s standard is interested in a guy like me. No answer comes, but maybe one will¡ªeventually. For now, the only priority is getting home after all of this. Avoiding everyone proves successful until the bell rings to end the day. Sneaking on the bus a realization hits¡ªmultiple people from the incident ride this bus. Damn. But Mr. Ranes must have done his job well; not a single glance in my direction as the walk past them leads to an empty seat. I bugged Rick on many occasions to drive us to school so we didn''t need to take the bus but he¡¯s embarrassed to drive his car to school. "Dude, I don''t want the chicks to see me driving that hunk of junk." Yeah man, like that¡¯s his problem. Let¡¯s not mind the shelves of action figures in his room, the beautifully engraved case that holds his most precious Magic: The Gathering card decks, or the obsession with costume makeup and 3D printing. Today though, I¡¯m glad he declined my advice because my only concern is staying away from everyone. The bus finally drops us off, which is still a generous fifteen-minute walk to my house because of the requirement to go around Driggs. The only way to get home quicker is to cut through Driggs, even though my mom has told me I¡¯d be grounded for the foreseeable future if she ever caught me there. It¡¯s a poor town directly bordering ours that¡¯s divided by a small canal. It¡¯s so odd how social class works. The only thing dividing middle income from poverty is a meager drainage canal that I can almost jump over. Driggs was renamed back in the mid-twenties by a mafia man, Tommy Driggs, who had gained political power and became mayor. He used his power to run speakeasy taverns and avoid prohibition laws. He was a fairly decent mayor from what I heard. But crime begets crime I suppose. Now it¡¯s full of hardcore bangers and other criminals. One rule always to follow in Driggs is to never look out of place. Normally this isn''t a problem for me because of my cheap clothes and my mannerisms. Growing up nearby led to knowing a few people from here, but I never became too invested in a friendship because they weren''t the best description of human morality. It''s not like my mom has money. She has a decent job and by being frugal we manage to stay comfortable. Odd jobs and summer work cover my expenses so she can worry about bills and food instead of a new cell phone. Still, I learned a lot about how to keep myself from being targeted. I¡¯ve run through Driggs dozens of times with no issues. Today is different. With so much on my mind, I¡¯m not paying attention to my surroundings, or I would have likely noticed an entire gang sitting on the front porch of a nearby building. It doesn''t take long before I¡¯m hit in my leg with an intensely powerful shock that sends me to the floor. "Yo Slick, I don''t remember your kind getting permission to pass through my hood!" a bald Hispanic guy with facial tattoos yells out in an almost indiscernible ghetto accent. Calling me a Slick, I¡¯m flattered that they think I''m rich, but my concern is more focused on the fact that I''m lying in the damn dirt with a leg so cramped it won¡¯t move. I''m beginning to see a pattern in my life because I seem to end up in this position a lot. You know, face down on the floor in pain. "That¡¯s just a taste of how I can fry your sorry ass for being stupid enough to come here," he grunts at me. "Look man I''m just heading home from school; I¡¯m having a real shitty day already," I say pleading with him hoping he will leave it at that. However, as with anything, my luck is never that good. "Yeah, well you¡¯re having some more of that right about now," he says as he stands ten feet away with his arms open. "You messed up rolling through King territory.¡± Okay, this has gone from bad to seriously bad. The King crew only have one way of initiation and that is by someone ending up dead. They are the most brutal gang in Driggs. This means they don¡¯t have any compunction about sparing my skinny white ass. "Yeah boy, light that fucker up," I hear another member yell from across the street laughing. That run-down building must be their hangout. Not more than a few seconds pass before I hear a crackling sound. As I turn my head to look at him, he shoots me with a steady stream of electricity. "Stop it hurts," I barely manage to scream with my paralyzed lungs. "It wouldn''t be funny if it didn''t," he says while maniacally laughing as he gradually increases the power of his attack. "No, please stop, you''re going to kill me!" I yell out the best I can under clenched teeth as every muscle in my body cramps and I begin to feel my skin burning from the charge. "Hell yeah, that¡¯s the idea you slick little bitch! I¡¯m gonna set an example to all of you who think about comin¡¯ here, starting with you! Then I¡¯m gonna take all your cash and dump your body in the canal and let the gators have you," he continues to chuckle as his onslaught grows in intensity. I feel it building. The realization. The certainty. He''s going to kill me¡ªunless I act first. Rage washes over me, my vision sharpening as a dark miasma swirls in. My eyes fade to jet black. My vision abolishes the unpure light. Power surges through me, raw and limitless, instinct guiding my hands as a sphere of abyssal void forms in my palm. More. I need more. I need to vaporize him. Not just him. All of them. Lightning crackles as he amplifies his power, striking again and again. But I don¡¯t flinch. I don¡¯t scream. Silence. The void within me swallows his attacks like they never existed. I rise to my feet, unaffected as if gravity itself no longer applies to me. "What the hell is this guy?" he mutters, not to me but to whoever will listen. I see it in his eyes. Fear. It''s overtaking him. He throws everything he has at me, but I feel nothing. The electricity crackling around me vanishes into the ether like it was never there. "Guys, get over here and help me! This guy a freak, yo!" he shouts. How cute. He thinks they¡¯ll have time. "I wonder... if I kill all of you, does that make me the leader of the Kings Gang?" My voice is flat, devoid of emotion. He stops attacking, realizing it''s pointless. I rotate my wrist, palm up, letting him see his fate. "Guys, it''s RED! He''s back! Run, homies, go! It¡¯s RED! Run!" Too late. Eight of them rush toward us, stopping twenty feet short when they see what I¡¯ve become. I lift my hand, ready to hurl this abomination at them. I want to see what happens¡ªto watch the void consume them out of sheer, morbid curiosity. I pull my arm back to throw¡ª And in the span of a nanosecond, I remember Ashley kissing me. The principal talking to me. No. I can¡¯t do this. I need to stop. But it¡¯s too late. The energy is built. The attack is primed. My body isn¡¯t listening. No! Stop! With everything I have left, I force my body down, throwing myself off balance just enough to send the void sphere veering off course. It streaks past them, slamming into the crumbling building next door. The haze fades from my eyes, and I watch in horror as my power expands¡ªa perfect, circular hole in the world itself. A deep, violent bass rumbles through the area. Then, just as fast as it appeared, the void collapses in on itself and vanishes. Everything it touched is gone. Not vaporized. Not burned. Just¡­erased. A quarter of the building is missing, yet somehow the rest of it still stands. Impressive that the old building is still able to stand up that way with most of its structure gone. 4. Panic Running is my only priority. Staying in Driggs is a death sentence. Destroying an entire building like that, the Titan Legion will show up soon. The gang members run and hide inside the other building as all this plays out. Seriously? They watched me obliterate the building next to theirs and they ran inside to hide. Not exactly Mensa candidates. It¡¯s now or never. Huffing, I reach into my reserves, put whatever energy is left into my legs, and run as fast as I¡¯m able avoiding the main areas where others may see me. Darting in between buildings and jumping over small fences, my legs scream in exhaustion but I continue running, hoping nobody has seen me. It takes me less than a few minutes to make the trek and cross the canal to my neighborhood. Fortunately, luck would have it that my house is on the outer edge, so it doesn¡¯t take me long to reach it. Rushing up to the door, my key slides in, I jiggle the lock until it gives, and force the door open wildly. What am I going to do? Those gang members saw my face so they can certainly give a description. Freaking out is my only emotion at this moment and the only people that know about my abilities are Mr. Ranes and Ashley. Neither of which I have a number to call them. And even if I did, I''m still not sure how I would explain this or what, if anything, they could do about it. For the time being I¡¯m on my own. My best course of action is to wait it out. It doesn¡¯t take long before sirens blare in the distance. I turn on the TV and nearly every local channel has news coverage of the attack. The headlines are all the same. "Is RED Back?" is plastered all over every channel. It¡¯s only been half an hour and it has the majority of coverage already. My legs give out and the couch saves me when I fall with an exasperated thud. It¡¯s coming. My feet vibrate against the floor as they tap incessantly from the anxiety. I¡¯m waiting for it. The description of the suspect would be at any moment. But it never comes, they have no suspect. Why would some gang members not rat me out in a heartbeat? It takes me a few minutes of pacing back and forth until it finally dawns on me. They are murderers, every single one of them. They all likely have warrants of some kind, and they won¡¯t be caught dead on camera or talking to police for that matter. A couple of hours after the incident a team from the Titan Legion show up. They are decked out in full gear from what I can see as the cameraman attempts to zoom in for close-up shots. A small crowd gathers in the background, yelling out to them, taking pictures, and generally ogling them. The reaction is worse than celebrities, mostly because there is a hint of jealousy to the admiration. It¡¯s difficult not to be jealous knowing once you have your mark you¡¯ll never be able to join them if it¡¯s too low. It looks like there are about eight of them as far as I can count. The way their organization operates is shrouded in secrecy. National security is the excuse our government uses, and the people are so afraid of another RED incident that they are completely okay with it. Hell, even I was. However, now not so much, considering I''m the one they are looking for. Rumor has it all their body gear is worth over a million dollars. If that''s the case, they must be highly valuable. Mason would put about a fifty-cent value on my head, and that''s only if he is allowed to torture me for the foreseeable future. I¡¯m deep in concentration on the news story currently on TV when my phone rings, making me almost jump off the couch. It¡¯s Rick, probably wondering why I avoided him in school today. "Hello?" I say hesitantly. "Dude where ya been man? I didn''t see you all day today," Rick responds with a satirical tone. He''s my best bud but he seriously needs more friends. It¡¯s like I''m stuck in a bromance. "It¡¯s been a long day and wanted to get home, I heard about you and Mason, how are you? I got there right when Mr. Ranes showed up.¡± I hope he buys it. Rick sighs, "Fuck him, dude. I''m fine he mostly burned my clothes. I''m getting sick of the entire school being okay with him acting this way. I''m glad Mr. Ranes broke it up, although my memory is a little fuzzy. I must have fainted or something." So, it seems it did work, and they don''t remember anything. "Oh, by the way, are you watching the news? This is seriously messed up. People are saying RED is back and he destroyed a building in Driggs right by your house," Rick says with a hint of worry. I figure the best way to deal with him is by being nonchalant. "Seriously, do you think that he''s back? It''s probably some super strong gang banger causing a problem. And what would he be doing in Driggs anyway? The last attack was in Washington D.C. And if memory serves, he died there bro.¡± After a few seconds of silence, Rick says, "Yeah you''re probably right, maybe it''s just scary to think about that happening again." We talk for a little longer about it as well as Mason and school. I tell him I need to go because my mom¡¯s going to be home soon. "All right man, see you tomorrow." As I¡¯m about to hang up the phone a faint scream catches my attention, "Wait!¡± I put the phone back to my ear and ask, "Geez, what is it?" I hear Rick laugh a little and say, "Something else very strange happened today. Ashley came up to me and apologized on Mason¡¯s behalf. But she also asked for your number." I know why she asked him, but I have to play it off like it¡¯s new information for me. "Okay, that is weird. Maybe she needs a tutor or something." Rick laughs again, "Yeah I don''t know why I thought it would be something different. All right man, later." Falling back against the couch, the embrace of comfort causing my eyelids to sag, I continue to watch the news coverage. This day is filled with enough anxiety to last me a lifetime. Everything that has happened has taken its toll and my mind begins to doze off when someone barges through the front door. Now when you are half asleep, that noise sounds like a battering ram slamming into my house. I shoot up from the couch and sprint to the front door. Standing in the doorway is my mom, breathing mildly ragged and her hair messy from an unkempt bun. Before I can say anything, she runs up and hugs me. "Oh, Hunter Raymond Delmonte, you had me worried sick! I thought something happened to you. I was so scared. With that attack happening down the road in Driggs I tried calling you but got sent to voicemail.¡± Oh God, she''s going to squeeze me to death. "Sorry Mom, I must have been on the phone with Rick," I manage to say under strained breathing. She lets me go and says, "Don''t you ever do that to me again," as she slaps me in the arm. "Okay, okay Mom, I get it. How did you get home so fast if you got off work five minutes ago?¡± I ask rubbing my arm. My mom looks at me and rolls her eyes, "When I couldn''t get a hold of you I left work early." I know what that means realistically. She''s going to get reprimanded by her boss for leaving early because he''s an egotistical chauvinistic prick with a massive Napoleon complex. Her words, not mine. We spend the next hour or so talking about our day and me doing some homework until the subject of my abilities comes up again. Still on the edge of a knife waiting for the Titan Legion to storm into my home and kill me. ¡°So have you been able to tap into your powers yet?" she inquires. This was bound to come up at some point. I need to find a way to avoid it for as long as possible until I figure out what¡¯s going on with me. "You know how long it takes as a shielder Mom. And to be honest I haven''t tried because with a four it''s not much good for anything anyways.¡± My mother¡¯s face warps into a disappointed frown, and with the most serious tone, she says to me, "Don''t you ever think that your ability is useless. You may never know when it will save your life. Do you understand me?¡± Whoa, scary. "Yeah, I understand. But this ability takes a while to use and it''s not like I can spend all day training like they do for Titan Legion so it may take me even longer." She cups my cheek and kisses me on the other one, "As long as you try and never quit, that is all I care about.¡± I head up to my room to relax and do the rest of my homework before dinner is done. I''m about halfway through when my phone dings from a new text message. It''s from a number I have never seen before. It reads, "We need to talk about what happened today, when can I see you?¡± I freak out a little bit at first thinking someone saw me in Driggs or is remembering what happened at school. I dismiss the notion as it dawns on me that Rick gave Ashley my number. To be certain of the identity of my mystery texter I reply, "Who is this?¡± It doesn''t take long before she responds, "Ashley.¡± I tell her that I need to stay home, get homework done, and eat dinner. I ask her about tomorrow and she says, "No, tonight, meet me at the end of your street at ten o¡¯clock. No excuses." Why do the women in my life order me around like a dog? Well then again, it''s not like I can be trusted with good judgment ala Driggs fiasco. I submit to her domineering attitude and agree. If my mom catches me, I won¡¯t have to worry about the Titan Legion, because she will murder me where I stand. After finishing up dinner I put my fork down and rub my belly in appreciation. ¡°I¡¯m so full. I think I¡¯m gonna go finish homework then go to bed.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "So early?" she asks. "Yeah it''s been a long day and I''m beat." She starts to put the dishes away and says, "Okay baby, get some sleep." The door clicks shut and a quick glance at the clock confirms it¡¯s after eight so that leaves me with just under a couple of hours to get homework done. That time is spent getting the rest of my homework finished before diving on the internet to research powers. Most of my findings are nothing new. Eventually, the research turns up nothing useful forcing me to admit defeat for the moment. A side glance at the time startles me¡ªeight minutes until our meeting. Time slipped away. Rushing to get ready, I throw on a dress shirt, slacks, and a pair of dress shoes. A few too many sprays of cologne to top it off to cover up the smell of not showing after the incident in Driggs makes me smell like a cheap date. A quick check in the mirror reveals I¡¯m severely overdressed. Acting like this is some hot rendezvous with a sultry vixen, when all she probably wants is to talk about my powers. There¡¯s no time left to change. I hope she doesn¡¯t get the wrong idea. My arms pull slowly against the window, careful to not let it creak and when it¡¯s fully opened the screen pops off with relative ease. The house was built with a large pipe running down the side, next to my window. I¡¯ve been climbing up and down it for years. No idea what it¡¯s for but it¡¯s bolted into the side sturdy enough that it doesn¡¯t budge with my full weight on it. After climbing down it¡¯s obvious to see that my mom¡¯s windows are dark. She only turns her light off when she goes to sleep so that¡¯s a good sign. Sticks crunch under my feet walking around the backyard to the front of my house, making me wince with the noise it makes. Proceeding to the end of the street it takes me less than a minute until Ashley¡¯s car parked at the end of the road comes into view. Pulling the door open and sliding into the passenger seat, she looks at me and gives me what seems like a half smile, half grin. ¡°What are you wearing?¡± Acting casual is my strong suit, ¡°It¡¯s laundry day, this and my pajamas are all that¡¯s clean right now.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± she says with a look that screams she knows I¡¯m full of shit. ¡°What are we doing?¡± I ask. She turns the car on and starts to drive away. As I¡¯m about to repeat myself, she says, "Hunter, did you do that in Driggs today?¡± I simply hang my head in shame and respond, "Yes." She reacts with a grave expression and asks, "Why?¡± I begin a five-minute rant about how the gang banger attacked me and what happened. She looks at me and says, "So, you thinking about me made you stop?¡± That¡¯s what she took from that? "Well," I respond rubbing the back of my head, "you and what Mr. Ranes said to me, but it was a little too late as you can see. Luckily at the last second, I managed to change the trajectory enough that I destroyed the abandoned building instead." She looks at me in a way a person looks at a naive child, "Sugar, you are extremely dense when it comes to women aren''t you?¡± I guess by the confused look on my face she figures she is right. She pulls off the main road to a side street, puts the car in park, and shuts it off. "Hunter, I was giving you an opening to flirt with me. I figured by what happened in school you would have taken the hint that I like you.¡± I¡¯m a bit floored, yet somehow my idiot brain still has to question it. "But I thought that ya know, you were doing that to get me to stop. I assumed kissing me was not as bad as dying a horrible death by my hands, so you opted to bite the bullet. I''ve had a crush on you since elementary school. I figured that we were in two different worlds.¡± Looking at her expression it seems to steadily transition into mild anger as some sort of realization has hit her. "I''m sorry I didn''t mean to make you mad," I say to her with sincerity holding my hands up in surrender. I think I screwed up with that little confession. Without warning the windmill of arms and flurry of hands strike me one after another. Not hard, similar to smacking someone for being an idiot, to which I am well acquainted. "You are stupid, stupid, stupid!" she says smacking me countless times in a barrage of blows. "Ow. Geez, a triple stupid, I must have seriously botched something. I''m sorry," I say defending myself. That shielding ability would come in quite handy right now. The blows finally subside. She lurches backward pressing hard against her seat, hands now gripping the steering wheel as leverage, staring forward, and with exasperation, she says, "Why did you never say anything to me? Do you know how much time I wasted dating idiots like Mason instead of you?" She gets one last good smack in without even turning to face me. Rubbing my arm I say, "Hey, I''m not entirely to blame here. I told you in fourth grade and you didn''t even respond to me." She shuffles in her seat, clearly frustrated, and finally turns back to me. "My god Hunter that was fourth grade. I didn''t even know I liked boys then.¡± I respond, "Yeah, but I did.¡± My stern face was supposed to be a gotcha but it did not come out like it was intended. She tilts her head with a raised eyebrow as if to question what I just said. ¡°Err, wait, I mean girls. That seriously came out wrong.¡± She proceeds to laugh and snort at my awkwardness. In trying to sound charming I made myself sound like a thirteen-year-old with no game. Accurate. "That''s what I like about you Hunter and always have. Part of your charm is your awkwardness. You try so hard and always end up failing spectacularly. But you always take it in stride and don¡¯t let it bother you. There''s something, endearing about it." Did she compliment and insult me at the same time? "Okay then," I say "Why haven''t you said anything since?" She puts her hand on my knee and smirks, "I did, well not say outright, but flirted with you a lot. I was always trying to do nice things for you to get your attention, but I figured you weren''t interested. You would just thank me or be nice and then pay me no mind afterward. You always treated me like the cool girl next door. Fourth grade was a long time ago, so I figured things changed.¡± That was a massive understatement of the universal kind. If anything, I had a different word for cool about my fantasies of her living next door to me. She continues, "But it''s obvious that you were simply too dense to see it,¡± she says as she smacks me again on my knee this time. I retain my composure at the feel of her hand on my leg and decide to spill it. Might as well lay it all out. I¡¯m not letting this chance slip by me. "Look, you need to understand. Ever since elementary school, you have been and still are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. Is it no wonder why I mistook your advances for simply being nice to the underprivileged, lanky, defensively humorous, and extremely average guy?" Her lips rise into a smile on her face, and she darts at me full force with a primal passion in her eyes. Our lips start in a small embrace, as she opens her mouth to slide her tongue over mine. The sensation sends ripples through my body and my brain transitions into a doughy paste, my body melting at the rise in temperature in the car. This girl can cut me open and steal my kidney right now and I won¡¯t mind one bit. After what seems like not long enough, she breaks the kiss. It¡¯s quick and unexpected, my male brain in a state of suspension, and in my usual awkward fashion, I keep moving forward attempting to continue the tongue-on-tongue onslaught flailing my tongue about and making a kissing face, sending her into a fit of laughter. "Sorry," I say with hot flustered red cheeks of embarrassment as I pull back. "Sug, you are without a doubt the best guy ever," she says between heavy breaths attempting to recover. I seriously doubt that but I''m not in a mindset to argue. I must be doing something right if I''m making out with the hottest girl in school. ¡°My God, I need to stop before we both do something sinful,¡± she says wiping the wetness from under her lower lip. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m kinda okay with sinful right now,¡± I admit without any shame. ¡°I¡¯m sure you are,¡± she says chuckling at my desperation. "Oh, and just so you know you need to realize you are far more handsome than you give yourself credit for. I have seen male models that don''t look as good as you,¡± she says almost with a scolding tone. Now it¡¯s my turn to laugh. I jokingly reach out and cup her forehead in my palm, faking a check for a fever. She smacks my hand away. "Stop it. Do I need to be terminally ill to like you? You need to be more confident. And that¡¯s also why I''m here.¡± She turns the car on and starts to drive off. "And how do you plan we do that Miss Perfect?" Smiling that deliciously innocent yet devilish smile she says, "If you play your cards right someday you might be Mr. Perfect.¡± If she asks right now, I will elope. Mom will kill me, but it will so be worth it. "But," she continues, "I mean your confidence with those powers inside of you.¡± "Great, I knew we were getting to this," I say. "Can''t we go back to kissing? That was much more fun.¡± "Head out of the gutter, Hunter. Plenty of time for that later. I''ve been thinking all day about what happened. It seems like whenever you use your powers it¡¯s out of anger. We can''t have that because you seem to lose control, which can be dangerous. You need to learn to use them of your own will and not from an emotional response. On top of all that, I haven¡¯t the slightest clue what that symbol on your back means. Everyone has a Mark, not a symbol,¡± she says laying out the crux of my issues. I know she''s right. It scares me at the thought of intentionally trying to use my powers, especially not knowing what this symbol means. "I don''t know if we should do that. Wouldn''t it be better if I never used them? If I''m careful I can keep it a secret and not a soul will ever find out," I say in opposition. She dismissively waves her hand, "No that''s not good because something can set you off, and then what? You need to learn control. After that, you can decide what you want to do." "Okay, and you have something in mind otherwise you would not be suggesting such an extremely dangerous plan I assume?¡± "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, thank you very much. For one, you need to go somewhere secluded to practice. If you do lose control at least nobody will be hurt. And I think I have the perfect place." "Oh? And where, pray tell, might that be?" I ask. "Canner Forest," she responds while pulling onto my block. She is right, yet again. If there is anywhere we can go for safety and seclusion, Canner Forest is the perfect choice. Luckily, it¡¯s only about a forty-five-minute drive and it¡¯s about two hundred square miles of nothing but trees. We turn the corner to my road and she puts the car in park at the end of the street where she picked me up. "Come up with whatever excuse you want for the weekend but tell your mom you¡¯re going to be gone. We need to start as soon as we can. The longer we wait the higher the chance of something like Driggs happening again." I begin to rub my temples at the stress of all of this. "Have you met my mother? The term overprotective understates the way she is about me.¡± "I know but you need to come up with something. This can''t wait.¡± ¡°Ugh, fine I¡¯ll come up with something,¡± I grunt as I start to leave the car. She grabs my arm before I can get out and pulls me close to give me one last long lingering kiss. This girl is going to be the death of me one day. And I won¡¯t give it a second thought. I get out of the car and step onto the hard concrete. A rush of clarity hits me at the realization that I¡¯ve agreed to practice controlling the most terrifying power known to exist. Give me a break, can¡¯t even control my awkwardness. So maybe she won¡¯t be the death of me, I¡¯ll maybe decide to walk off a cliff on a whim. ¡°Hey one last thing,¡± I hear Ashley yell from the car window. ¡°I think it¡¯s best Mason doesn¡¯t know about us. If he finds out, you¡¯ll see his jealousy far outweighs his penchant for being a jerk.¡± I lean into the car window, ¡°Yeah, you come with one seriously large piece of baggage huh?¡± She giggles and says flirtatiously, ¡°Yeah, but I have a feeling you¡¯re still interested anyway.¡± Ending the exchange she drives off. She¡¯s right. She could have dated the devil himself and I would still be interested. It only takes me a few minutes to get home. It seems like everything is in the same place that I left it. I¡¯ve only been gone less than an hour so I¡¯m not too concerned about some thief climbing through my window. As I climb back up and through the window my hand slips and I crash to the floor with a loud thud. I quickly jump under my covers still fully dressed with shoes on. It¡¯s lucky as Hell I¡¯m upstairs so there are warning steps before she reaches my door. After a minute or two my door slowly creaks open. My mom can''t see my face with my back to her but out of the corner of my eye, my window curtain ever so slightly blows in the wind. I¡¯m screwed. I never leave that window open. She must not notice because she shuts my door and I hear footsteps as she walks downstairs towards her room. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, I grab the covers tighter and kick my shoes off. If she caught me I would be strung up by my ankles. 5. Chance Encounter If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. 6. 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