Price: Death of a Hero

Chapter 8


Principal Jenson was best described as an unimpressive man. Shorter than most of the students in the school, including half the girls. Thinning salt and pepper hair, skinny, and always in an outfit that tried to be both professional and casual and failed to be either. Add into that how in those few times he actually talked to us he tried to put the 'pal' in 'principal'... poorly. That made it very easy to just dismiss him as a non factor, not even important enough for the students to make fun of behind his back most days.


Which made for a bit of cognitive dissonance for me right now. Sitting in this far too cold office with this man who was probably looking for an excuse to expel me had me thinking a number of things. Easy to dismiss was not one of them.


The tiny man smiled amiably. "So, Zach, is it okay if I call you Zach?"


"No skin off my scr-" No! Bad Zach! "Sure, that's fine, sir."


"Good. I heard from Mrs. Schmidt that you ran out of class earlier today, and now many of the students think you have powers."


I didn't believe for a second that was all he heard, but there was no sense in denying that much. "True on both counts. I got them pretty recently, and didn't know they would go off in the middle of class. Then I sorta panicked."


"How recently, Zach?"


"Pretty sure it was yesterday." That's not lying, right?


"Pretty sure?"


"Yeah, my power is kinda automatic. Only kicks in when I get hurt. And now I know that counts for something as simple as a dry throat. How many people do you know who would hurt themselves on a regular basis on the off chance that they'd miss out on knowing exactly when they got super healing?"


He chuckled, and I couldn't tell how much of it was an act. "You make a good point. So you decided to come to school after getting powers? Before checking to see what their limits were or if you might accidentally use them in class?"


I cringed a little. If I'd thought about it, like, at all, I wouldn't have come in today. "Didn't have much choice." I wracked my brain for a reason why I didn't a choice, I was too old to say I didn't want Mom to miss work or some such. "I'm not exactly on the honor roll as it is. Believe me, if I'd known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have come." That's when it dawned on me. "Are... are you accusing me of doing this on purpose?"


"Not at all, but since you brought it up: you do have a history of disrupting class, Zach."


Fuck you, past me. "Okay, but nothing like this." Not that I could have before, but let's leave that out of the conversation. "There's a line between 'harmless prank' and 'now everyone wonders if every bad thing that happens to them in school might be my fault'. Which it isn't, by the way, I didn't get any of those powers. Just super healing." And a weird sort of teleportation, and an even weirder sort of special senses, but I'm not telling you about those.


"Okay, Zach, I believe you." He sat back in his chair, and only then did I realize that I, too, had leaned forward. "I'll let Mrs. Schmidt know that you won't be misbehaving in her class any longer. Please don't make a liar out of me."


"Yeah, I can do that. Is, umm, is that all?"


"For classes, yes. We're not going to punish you for an accident. But, as you are a minor, we will need to report your manifestation to your mother. It's the law, unless you can give us a reason to bring in a legal advocate. CPS and Outreach can protect you, if you're afraid of being abused or exploited by your family."


The fuck? "No! Nothing like that at all. It's just. Can you at least give me a few hours, so I can let Mom know? I want it to be from me, not some secretary."


He hesitated for a minute. "Ordinarily, I'd say no, but legally we have a window of twenty four hours in which to make contact, and we're always so busy around here. I think we can wait until tomorrow morning to make the call. That's the best I can do, sorry."


I shook my head. "No, that's fine. I can talk to her tonight." Don't have much choice, do I now? "It's not like she wouldn't have found out anyways."


Principal Jenson smiled at me. "That's a very mature attitude to have. But it's 'anyway', not 'anyways'. If you're going to be a superhero, you'll need proper diction. Now get back to class, a good education is valuable no matter what your powers might be."


I cannot believe he said that without irony. "Uh, yes, sir."


I got back to class before our own presentation was ready to go, but in time to watch Sarah's presentation close up. I waited from the doorway, not wanting to interrupt. The fact that her whole topic could be summed up as 'the world would be a happier place without superhumans to screw it over' was not lost on me. No sense convincing her she was even more right by 'ruining' her project twice in one day. I waited until they were done with that before sneaking in, and failing miserably.


No one said anything as I slipped into my seat, next to the rest of my partners for the presentation. "Well, despite all my best efforts, I'm not getting expelled today. I'll have to try harder next time."


"Aww, do you really want to leave that bad?" Cassie pouted at me. "Surely, there has to be something in this school worth enjoying. Besides, we have our own live in superhero, now, how many schools get to say that?"


I was used to her flirting, as was pretty much everyone else in the school, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the attention. Damn she was freakin' gorgeous, and she was clearly inviting me to enjoy the sights. I never really got to do it from so close, even at her most flirty before. Her eyes were the most amazingly dark brown color, and it took a lot of effort to pull myself out of them. "Uh. Yeah, I guess you have a point."


She smiled and turned back to watch the next presentation, leaving me with just traces of whatever perfume she was using.


This one focused on the sixties and its fads of free love and drugs as a somehow good thing. Naturally, attention was put on how badly the Vietnam War damaged our country's reputation, and all the Imbued born out of East Asia during that era. Their premise was how, thanks to the lessons finally being learned about the conditions in which Imbued are created, namely that the side that suffered the most seemed to get the most superhuman reinforcements, it would be the last major policing action the USA, or most other modern nations, ever engaged in. Sometimes called the Last True War.


It was, in many ways, the opposite of Sarah's presentation. That we Imbued made modern war too expensive to fight, so modern nations stopped having wars.


From then on, when countries went to war, it was almost always a shock and awe affair. Committing massive amounts of resources to destroy the enemy and then pull out before the defeated culture had an opportunity to produce enough Imbued to turn the tides. Of course, depending on who you asked that was a bad thing more often than a good one. Creating festering pits of lawlessness and resentment that would express itself in a new type of terrorist warfare that we still hadn't learned how to fight appropriately.


And then it was our turn, to do something far more cheerful with Prohibition. Amber was less than pleased that we missed the Civil Rights Era, but that didn't seem to get in the way of her wanting to get a good grade. Eddie's passion for the subject turned out to be at least a little infectious, and I had fun helping put it all together. Cassie more or less nominated herself to be the one who did the actual presentation, and the rest of us didn't care to stop her. Eddie got stage fright, and Amber was less than enthused that her pick didn't get accepted.


As for me? Well, it was a great opportunity to get graded on standing there not doing anything for a class period. How could I turn that down?


"Our presentation is on the twenties," Cassie said with the calm of someone who was used to being in front of people. "We can't look at the twenties without mentioning Prohibition, and the birth of organized crime as we know it, but we won't focus on it. The politics that got the Eighteenth Amendment passed had little to do with superhumans at the time, and while they were involved on both sides of the conflict, it seems likely that story of violence would have happened either way."


The last part of that was not part of our original script. Maybe Cassie was winging it in response to Sarah, or Eddie penned it in while I was out. Either way, I was happy to have it in there.


"What we will examine today is one thing we can be certain would not have occurred without Imbued: the elaborate death trap. The death trap practice has been around since before superheroes and villains were calling themselves by the name. However, before the twenties it was typically done with improvised methods, such as tying the victim to train tracks or trapping them with a dangerous animal. With the sudden influx of money that came with organized crime, these mechanisms would become increasingly more complex up until slowly falling out of favor in the fifties."


That was our cue to set up the cardboard display, while Cassie turned to look at us. We had a few diagrams of some more simple trap involving a rope, a large tank of water, and sharks with lasers on their foreheads. Yes, we knew that lasers were a shit weapon in general, and even worse underwater. Realism was not our goal.


"What most people do not realize is that the death trap was not, in fact, meant to kill. Quite the opposite, in fact. The traps were intentionally designed to be easily escaped from. Often in just a matter of minutes."


We switched to the next picture, showing a diagram of the tied up people swinging on the rope until getting out from above the trap, safely landing on the ground instead.


"In fact, many of these traps were designed to rescue the supposed victims, were they somehow unable to work out the mechanisms to rescue themselves."


Our next diagram, my personal favorite, had one of the sharks spitting the victim out onto the ground. It was all stick figures, but we managed to make it look humiliating.


Up until my fight with Kitten last night, I thought the whole practice was kinda silly. Now I knew better, having... what did Anima call it, a surge? It was common enough to have a name to itself, and if it worked like mine did then I could see why most villains would prefer their enemies didn't feel like they needed to use it to save themselves.


"You see, the intent of the elaborate death trap was never to kill, merely to delay the heroes so the villain could get his or her important resources to safety before at least attempting to fight the heroes. Toward the end of Prohibition they became something of a competition between villains to see who could create the most impressive trap, all while avoiding harm to the victims. Heroes, too, participated in this competitive game, seeing if they could more quickly defeat a given villain's traps than their friends managed."


We were swapping for the next image, now.


"It is considered by many enthusiasts to be one of the great lost arts." That line was at Eddie's insistence. "And perhaps none exemplify this so much as the traps created by the sonic Gadgeteer known as Maestro. During his twenty year career as a supervillain, he slowly expanded upon a collection of death traps within a series of abandoned gold mines in Sacremento, California. Adding new features to deal with new heroes seeking to stop his illegal mining, bootlegging, and international smuggling operations."


"The end result is now known as The Labyrinth, a hundred and twenty miles of death traps that still function today, decades after his death. Made a museum by his grandson, it is now open to the public. To date no hero, villain or civilian that's accepted the challenge of completing the Labyrinth has ever succeeded. And to date, not a single guest has been injured or killed by any of the traps. Making it functionally the safest amusement park in the world."


"Maestro's technology has been studied extensively. While, like most Gadgeteers, the principal mechanics are impossible for non-Imbued to replicate, most of his technology used entirely mundane components. Including new gold based alloys now used throughout the modern world that might never have been discovered if not for his efforts. These alloys are key components in modern electronics, and it's possible that household computers would not exist to day if not for his contributions to technology. And I don't even want to imagine a world without the internet."


The rest of our presentation was mostly justifications in the argument. Explaining how Maestro's tech was the inspiration that created the micro-transistor, allowing for compact personal computers instead of room sized monsters. And giving some nod to the other remarkably tech heavy supervillains of the twenties. These days, there weren't that many Gadgeteer villains or heroes, they tended to find that corporations and governments made better offers.


We got a few polite claps as we pulled down our displays. All from the guys, I couldn't help but notice. Oh well, that wasn't really my concern. We did a presentation, we'd hopefully get a good grade, I wasn't too concerned. As the next group started doing their presentation, this time about the eighties and how the supers of the time started dressing and acting like rock stars, and how that influenced the music industry in return.


I didn't pay too much attention, far more interested in watching the clock and lamenting the fact that time has three settings. Watching the clock, having fun, and its current mode of 'right before the deadline'.


The bell rang far, far too soon for my liking. Now I had to talk to my mother.


======================


A/N- Later in his life, when asked why he didn't just use his talents to make money legally, Maestro answered with "Sure, take all the fun out of it."

Was gonna gloss over Zach & Co's project, much as I did with the others. Had his conversation with his mom in this chapter instead... But, well, I then started thinking about it. And was compelled to include the death traps. Because it was hilarious.

Also: Authority figures are not completely incompetent in this setting! Seriously, though, I hate it when stories pull that shit. Such lazy, lazy writing.

 

Chapter 9


The bus ride home was no less awkward than the last class. This time, the usual rumble of noise that was the swarm of children packed in a metal tube instead got replaced by hushed murmurs and nervous glances in my direction. Publicly outed superhumans were pretty damn rare, especially amongst kids. Sure, every so often you'd have a specific hero or even villain go public to make a political point. But those were adults, and usually individually wealthy enough to not care about the exposure. Which made me pretty big news.


Oh fuck, the news. How long will it be until I have to deal with the god damn tabloids? No point in thinking about that right now, I could do that later instead of sleeping. Now I had to focus on the immediate.


I found a seat, and my senses expanded as far as the metal legs, but didn't attempt to look into the bus itself. For whatever reason, I knew about bits of gum stuck to the bottom of the seat, but I was blind to the bus. I still didn't know why my power did that, something I'd need to experiment with later. The seat itself was some kind of weird rubber padding, near as I could tell. At least it wasn't asbestos, which given this school I couldn't rule out.


One of the kids from behind leaned over. "So, dude, I hear you have superpowers. What can you do?"


Oh god damn it. "My farts make women fall in love with me. Also they smell like lilacs. Wanna try?" I paused for a second. "Nah, actually, I have the power to make smartass remarks. I'd call myself Sarcastro, but I don't have nearly enough beard to pull that off."


"Yeah, didn't think so. Poser." He dropped back into his seat, mumbling and presumably trying to spread the word that it was a stupid rumor. Ah, if only there wasn't video evidence and dozens of witnesses, then he would be my new best friend.


Home sweet home wasn't any more exciting. While waiting for Mom to get home, I hopped online and my power gave me a full view of my computer along the keyboard wire plugged into it. I didn't understand a single inch of the circuits and wires, but I could sense them as easily as I could sense my own fingers. Then again, I had no clue what fingernails were meant for, either.


Looked like the fan had a ball of lint or something in it. Huh, there's a possible job as one of those screeners in the airport. No. Just no. I would rather spend my time finding a way to kill myself permanently than do that as a career.


Instead I logged on and tried to find the lay of the land, as far as supers in DC and Arlington were concerned. There were the obvious, famous ones of course. The heroes that were one part celebrity, one part police officer. Various foreign dignitaries and their superpowered bodyguards always coming and going, and all the superpowered Secret Service or whatever to keep that powder keg from going off. But none of that was really useful to me.


Kitten was going to want to know I was preparing to go after her. I wasn't going to disappoint. Especially not now, when she could find me out of costume. I was looking for the villains I might be able to go after and the vigilante heroes or indies I might be able to team with.


Turns out, there were a lot of them. Even not counting the big groups like Los Fieles that boasted twenty seven villains. Their leader was called Vertigo, which apparently means the same thing in Spanish as it does in English. A woman who kept her position by virtue of some kind of sniper power that left her victims curled up in pools of their own vomit and other bodily wastes. She went after all the other Hispanic gangs and publicly forced their leaders to kneel before her and beg for her mercy. Thus the name.


She wasn't really that powerful, certainly not suited to go up against Guardian or Sapphire, who had invulnerability on their power lists. But she was a politically savvy gang leader, and violent crime in the areas she controlled was much lower than it used to be. This made her a low priority target for almost the exact opposite reason that Kitten was low priority.


Eighteen more in Lightbringer, the big White Power group around here. Personally, I'd have thought they'd pick something a little less obviously satanic as a name, but that was really the least of my issues with them. Their leader was some kind of pyrokinetic called Crucible. His exact abilities were mostly an unknown, but he tended to be on fire while fighting. Yay.


Various other gangs, each with maybe a single Imbued trying to hold territories of little more than a few square blocks. Flux was listed as one of those B rate gangs. Some villain groups that didn't have territories at all. These were groups I could go after and get a reputation.


Then the indies, like Anima. Only most were not nearly so powerful. All told, there were over two hundred known supers nearby who weren't working for some world government. Way too many for me to start trying to memorize right now. I did notice one unpleasant trend: of those small timers, I was the only one with a public identity.


I heard Mom fumbling with the lock at about a quarter before seven, so I got up from my chair and went out into the halway. I'd still only put together a tiny chunk of the iceburg that was the supers culture in this area. I'd managed to piece together that DC itself was patchwork, fought over by small gangs instead of held by anyone large and organized. Arlington was split in half between the two big gangs, and that resulted in a lot of violence. We didn't have it half as bad as Alexandria, however. That city was one good fight away from an Imbued civil war.


"Hey, Mom," I spoke up the moment she got the door open. She backed in, carrying a large brown grocery bag and a small box that brightly proclaimed itself as coming from KFC.


"Hey, sweetie, I picked you up something on my way home." She set everything down on the counter and gave me a quick one arm hug before heading toward her room. Fortunately, she didn't have any odd piercings or implants for me to try desperately to ignore.


I started putting away the rest of the groceries. Seemed fair, since I got to eat half of them. Which was a question, now that I thought about it. Did I need to eat, anymore? With my old power, I did. Or, at least, I still got hungry. I didn't have the desire to find out what happened if I ignored that feeling. With the new one, well, it seemed to take a few hours to get hungry after I disintegrated. So if I just did that a few times a day, I might be able to skip out on ever needing to eat.


Mom came out wearing a purple evening dress. She clearly had plans for the night, I wasn't going to speculate beyond that. She was a gymnast when younger, and still had a slender figure, so she had no real problem getting dates. But usually that was a weekend thing, when I was at Dad's. Laura and I inherited our height from Dad, and our build from Mom. Plus a little extra from a surgeon, in Laura's case. Being naturally super skinny worked out better for girls, though.


But enough about that, it was time to bite the bullet. "I've got something important to tell you." I took a deep breath. Why didn't I just let the school tell her? "I'm gay."


She rolled her eyes. "Okay, what did you actually do?"


"What? Why don't you believe I could be gay?"


She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Because I am the one who cleans your room. Besides, your sister already pulled that stunt."


I had absolutely no comeback for that. "Okay, fine. The truth is, I have powers now, and I accidentally used them in the middle of class."


She just sighed. "Zach, please. I have a work meeting tonight, then I have to get up early to get in some overtime tomorrow because your father is late on child support. Again."


Hey, don't look at me. All I did was get shot out of a sack. You're the one who married him. "I'm being serious." I picked up the box containing the food, letting it become part of my weird sensory power. Good, it includes the chicken as well. I gave it a toss across the living room.


"Zach!" My mother stopped her otherwise inevitable screaming at me when the box broke down into colored light, rushing back to the copy in my hand. She hesitated for a moment, and then slumped down on the arm of the couch.


"Like I said, powers."


"And everyone knows? What did you do? Why couldn't you be more careful? You should know better than this." Her voice got faster and higher pitched, the way it always did when blaming me for things going wrong.


"It was an accident. My power goes off automatically if I ever get hurt. Perfect healing, but it's pretty obvious."


"You were hurt in school?" Her expression a combination of skepticism, concern, and fear.


"Just an asthma attack, Mom." I didn't like talking about that, even to her. "In Home Ec. By the time I even knew anything was happening, my healing kicked in. I didn't have time to get my inhaler."


She buried her face in her hands. "Dammit, Zach, I knew that class was a bad idea, why didn't you listen?"


No, that isn't even close to what happened. Dad said it was a bad idea and I should take shop instead. You said it would be nice to have a man around the house that knew how to cook for once in your life. Then the two of you argued for an hour while I stayed in my room and played video games. "I didn't have powers when I started the class, Mom. That's not really something you can plan for."


"No, no. You're right. So what are we supposed to do about it?" She looked at me like I had actual answers to that question.


I shrugged, not really sure how to make her feel better about this. If it was Dad- correction, when it was Dad, because there's no way I could avoid telling him forever- he'd be shoving answers at me. Most of which could be summed up as 'join the army and get laid'. Hopefully not in that order. "There's really nothing to do."


"So... there won't be any special meetings or having to transfer you to a new school?" I tried to ignore how relieved she sounded at that part.


"The school will call you sometime tomorrow morning, just to make sure you know I have powers now. There's some law about that, I dunno." I reflected on what Principal Jenson told me when I was in his office. Wait a second... he said he wouldn't ordinarily do something like this, but there's no way he's ever had to do anything like this at all. What a bullshitting asshole. "Really, nothing's changed except now I can't be hurt."


She looked at me, thinking. "What do you mean, can't be hurt?"


"Just what it says on the tin. I have an attack: instant heal. Some gang asshole punches me: instant heal. I accidentally stub my toe on my way to the bathroom: instant heal. Like, last night I got too cold." Kitten turning portions of me to ice totally counts as too cold. "I healed from that, too. That's when I discovered I had this power."


Her eyes narrowed. "Does your sister know?"


Oh, fuck, I totally forgot to call Laura. My shrug was, hopefully, convincing. "She didn't see it happen, and didn't say anything about it this morning when taking me to school. But you know Laura doesn't like to stick her nose in other people's business."


I wasn't sure if Mom bought that or not, but I'd be calling Laura as soon as she left.


We sat there in awkward silence for a couple minutes. "So. Nothing has to change?"


"That's what I said. Plus I can't be hurt. How lucky is that?" Speaking of bullshitting assholes, exhibit 'Ass' right here. "So, yeah, you can go ahead and finish getting ready. There's no need to worry about me at all. In fact, you'll never have to worry about me at all. I just didn't want you to be caught off guard at work."


She nodded, almost automatically. "You're right. Thanks, sweetheart." And then she was up and flitting about with getting herself ready.


I ate lukewarm chicken and potatoes, and wondered what tomorrow would be like.


======================


A/N- Bit of a small chapter. Also late. My girlfriend and I broke up. It was drama free, but understandably enthusiasm damping. On the other hand, I'm now single. So... hello ladies. And the right sort of gentlemen.

Also: trying to generate the relationship dynamic between Zach and his mom took a few attempts. I think it was worth the extra effort, but some of the roughs were pathetic.

And in retrospect, at some point this story became the functionally perfect setup for a dating game. Anima's the older experienced woman option. Cassie's the flirty option. Ferne's the quiet girl option. Alex for the gay option. Laura's the pervert option. Last, there is Kitten, leading up the 'the fact that there are people who would take this path makes me weep for humanity' option.

 

Chapter 10


Tomorrow morning, at least, wasn't any different than yesterday afternoon. Schoolbus full of annoyance. I really needed to get a car one of these days. Mom and Dad didn't really have the money to pay for one, and Laura was even worse off. I might have been able to get something from the money I, uh, confiscated from Kitten's gang, but Laura would spend it better. No wonder so many supers went villain, that's where the money was.


American Lit had us on the Great Gatsby, one of the few novels after World War One that didn't bother including Imbued, save a few brief mentions of them being 'symbols of a changing world, unwelcomed by the upper class', and bits of speculation about Gatsby being one. Something I found annoying, until yesterday. Still didn't stop me from being bored to tears while reading the damn book. Fortunately, the teacher didn't bother calling on me to answer anything in this class. Miss Carter wasn't interested in anything humor, unless it related to her cats.


Physics was more my style. I'd always been pretty good with math, and this was just another kind of math. That and I got to sit with Ben, one of my few actual friends in school. Nerdy type, but with a razor sharp sense of humor, which made him great to hang out around.


"All over you, huh? Y'know, I'm pretty sure hallucinations means schizophrenia, not powers."


"Por que no los dos?" I shrugged when he just kept looking at me with his 'not buying it for a second' face. "Okay, fine, not literally. But if she gave me a closer look, her nipples would have poked out my eyes."


He smirked at me. "Okay, that sounds like Cassie. So, what were Eddie and Amber up to while you were getting a peep show?"


Probably thanking their lucky stars it would be at least another two or three projects before they'd need to work with either of us again. "Y'know, dude, you really should just ask her out already, I'm sure she'd be into it." Guys aren't exactly knocking down her door.


"I dunno, what if things get weird?"


"Bro, face it, you are weird. So is she, which is why it's perfect."


He suddenly decided looking at the clay was more interesting. "I don't want her to think I'm a stalker or something."


As opposed to actually being a stalker? "Well, the only difference between a stalker and a boy or girlfriend is how the recipient interprets the events."


I waited for a second to let him absorb my wisdom, and he started snickering. "I knew it was love when he used my own silk panties to chloroform me. I awoke to realize I was bound to an office chair. Facing a computer screen filled with lines of text, the gravity of the situation slowly dawned on me. I had found the man I would be with forever."


I fell face first on the desk, laughing. "It's like if Fifty Shades was honest about itself!" After a minute to recover, I finally sat back up. "See, you could just write her something. Not that, but something nice. I bet she'd love that high literature stuff."


"Zach, you only know literature from bathroom walls."


"Hey, that's not true!" I tried to act offended. "I also know limericks, and your mother's phone number. Seriously, though, you're good, and if Amber has half the brains she likes to think she does, she'll jump on the offer."


....


Ben and I had changed subjects like five or six times before class ended and we went to lunch. People made room for me to pass, as before. Fuck, some of the people that others normally made way for, like the more aggressive gang members, didn't bother me. That would change, eventually, as people got used to me. Someone would try to test my powers just to see what I was actually capable of, most likely as part of a gang initiation. That's the tradition, sending the henches after the hero to get an idea of their powers. I probably had a week or two before that.


Ben just watched in awe as everyone backed off. "Dude, you are so fucking lucky."


I cringed a little inside. Luck can kiss my lily white ass, this is only happening because I was stupid and overconfident. I picked up my pace. "Let's go, wouldn't want to hold up the rest of the students."


Ben hurried to catch up. "Dude, what's wrong?"


What's wrong is I'm a fuck up. "Just hungry is all. I kinda skipped breakfast."


"Cool." He didn't quite sound like he believed me, but as long as he didn't pester me about it too much I was good.


We went through the lunch line more or less unaccounted. Contrary to popular opinion, the food here wasn't so bad. All those soccer moms and their push for healthy options meant fresh fruit and veggies if you didn't want to take your chances with the deep fried mystery meat or gas station quality pizza. If Ben thought anything of me picking out a couple apples and a packet of baby carrots, he didn't bring that up, either.


I, as usual, picked my spot in what was generally considered the 'loser' section. Identified quite easily by the lack of gang paraphernalia or attractive females. Normally, this was a blessing, but it was also where the geeks stayed. And if you ever met a geek, you'd know how much they love superpowers. Well, unless you met Sarah. She was the exception that proved the rule.


"Hey, Zach! What powers do you have?" And here it starts.


"How'd you get them?" "How long have you had them" "Why didn't you tell us?" "Can I be your sidekick?"


Why didn't I pick a different table? "Guys. I don't have the power to answer a dozen questions at once. I haven't had them very long and I didn't want anyone to know. I'd rather make the supervillains work for that info." That'd sell at least some of them. I stepped into the gap between the table and bench and sat down. "But if you really wanna know, I can't be hurt." For very long. "Doesn't matter what you do, I'm untouchable."


"What? You're saying you're an eighth level Tank?" David, this time. He fit the nerdy kid stereotype down to the thick glasses and acne. "And that's all you've got?"


"Kinda, I guess." I really didn't feel like sharing my other tricks with them. "Don't have to eat or sleep, either." I confirmed the sleeping part last night, the second I dozed off my power popped and I was wide awake. I couldn't sleep if I wanted to.


David just looked at me like I was an idiot. "Nothing else? Bastion can share his invulnerability with others. And Guardian has the power to warp space and redirect attacks toward himself, or reach attackers faster."


"Yeah, I have a boring power, I know."


"Impossible power. No one ever gets only tank powers. It always comes with something else to make it useful."


Dammit, can't you take the hint? "Well, does never getting tired for any reason count? I could run without resting until I die of old age if I wanted." I paused for a second, hoping that'd be enough for him. "Actually, I don't even know if I can die of old age. Maybe I just haven't figured out the rest of my power?"


"You might be a Breaker," one of the freshmen girls I didn't know offered. "A lot of them have powers that only work if someone else is using powers on them. Like, you could also be immune to mind control or able to see invisible enemies." I would have to thank her later.


David let out an exaggerated sigh. "Seeing invisible is a Tracker power. To be a Breaker, you need to change how other powers work, not simply have a way to counter their powers using your own. Otherwise the category would be meaningless, since almost everyone has a power that can counter at least some other powers."


The girl sneered at him. "Don't ignore me! If he has some kind of Breaker power, he won't know what it is until he meets other Imbued. Therefor, there is absolutely no reason he can't be just a Tank."


"If he has another power, that means he's not just a Tank, he just doesn't- uh." David stopped speaking, distracted by something behind me.


"So, I'm told you were saying something about me being, and I quote, 'all over you'."


Why, hello there fear of death. I'd almost forgotten what you were like. It looks like you're planning to visit for a while. Come in, have a seat, would you like some tea? "Umm, hello, Cassie."


I turned to look at her. Oh, and apparently she brought two of her friends from the cheer squad along as backup. Lovely, now there's going to be three hot girls judging me instead of just one. Ben and the other nearby kids slowly scooted away from me. Traitors. "There may have been a bit of a misunderstanding."


"Yeah, there was definitely a misunderstanding." She placed her hands on my shoulders. "Just so we're clear, letting you get a bit of a peek is not 'all over you'."


I hurried to apologize. "No, you're absolutely right, I'll b-"


She bent over, her arms sliding down my back. The dragging of her fingernails sent shivers along my spine. She didn't stop until her forehead touched mine. My new sense activated, which was... surprisingly not attractive in the least bit. Not because she wasn't attractive, my other senses were telling me details about her scent, the shape of her eyes, the texture and heat of her skin, and they had no complaints. But my power sense was... just not interested, I guess. "Now, how does this compare?"


What. "Bwuh."


"Yeah, I thought so." She stood up and stepped away, much to my disappointment. She turned and took a step away before stopping and looking back. "Oh, and just so we're clear, that wasn't 'all over you', either. If you want to know what that is like, you'll have to ask nicely."


Hey, brain, what am I supposed to do now? Any ideas? No? Of course not, what do you even do besides prop up my skull? I just watched as the three girls left, laughing with one another. It was a lovely view, and it's not like I had anything better to do.


Eventually Ben broke the silence. "So, I think we can take eloquent speaker off the list of Zach's possible secret superpowers."


....


And then it was gym class, where I got to awkwardly change in front of a bunch of other guys. Who were both trying to stare at me because apparently that was the new thing to do in this school, and trying not to stare at me because watching other dudes change is hella gay. Thankfully, no one tried to make conversation, so that was a mercifully quick humiliation.


Coach Murray, and you had better call him 'coach', not 'mister', was a large man in every sense of the word. Over six foot, and built like a linebacker that got hungry one day and ate a donut truck including the driver. He stood right outside the locker entrance and waited for us to all come outside and line line up before speaking. "Alright, in honor of Friday's win, we're doing flag football today."


Mutters of displeasure washed across the crowd. But, then, that would happen no matter what we were supposed to do. Meanwhile, the girls looked just about as happy as their coach- Mrs. Murray, yes our gym coaches are married- told them the same news. Unfortunately, Cassie wasn't in the same class with us, but I noticed Ferne in the back.


"Jones, Carlton, you're picking teams today." He paused for a second. "And, Parker, there was something said about you having powers?"


Oh god damn it, can we skip one class of this? "Yes, coach."


"You're out of the game. Go run laps or something."


"Uh, what?"


"That's the law, Parker. Imbued students are not allowed to participate in competitive sports against ordinary classmates." He actually looked pissed that he couldn't make me play, but then he always looked pissed.


"Oh. Guess I run laps, then." I stepped out of the line. This day was just full of awkward surprises.


"Actually, coach, mind if I beg out, too?" I looked for the source of the voice, and found Alex. "Still feeling a bit banged up, might be better just to take it easy until I'm at one hundred percent."


Coach Murray only paused a moment. "Remember to stretch, and if I don't see eight laps, I'd better get a doctor's note."


"Yes, coach." Alex caught up to me as I headed toward the track. Meanwhile, the others started calling names for their teams. "So, you and Cassie, huh?"


"Just inv..." No, that's not what he asked. "I have absolutely no idea what's up with her."


"I'd explain it to you, but I'm sure you've seen enough videos online."


"Not quite what I meant. Pretty sure she's only interested in me 'cause I have powers now."


Alex shrugged, kneeling down and doing leg stretches near the track. "Yeah, let's be real, it's only because of the powers. That doesn't mean you're not allowed to enjoy it. So go for it, unless you got someone you like better? And if you do, girls love when you turn down other girls to have a shot with them. Especially hotter ones. And Cassie might not be the hottest girl in the school, but she's definitely the hottest in our grade."


He has a point. I have to deal with the bullshit no matter what I do, so I may as well enjoy the benefits. "Is that why you're over here instead of getting picked first for the football game?"


"That and I think it's kinda fucked up that you got singled out like that and have to run the track alone. That's just not cool."


Oh, yay, just what I always wanted, people to feel bad for me. "Not being forced to play stupid games in gym, such hardship, woe is me. I think you just wanted to put the moves on me again."


"Well, seeing as Cassie tried and failed, I probably have a good shot." He stood up, having completed his stretches. "So, you planning to do the superhero thing?"


Sure, I'll get on that right after completing my plans to execute a fourteen year old. The police love to hire premeditated child murderers. "Still thinking about it. I mean, any idiot can be intimidating in a good costume, but my face is public. I've gotta do it without a mask."


"Oh, that's not so hard."


"For you, maybe. You're, like, everything they want superheroes to look like for the cameras."


"Now who's putting the moves on who?" He smiled at me. "Besides, that's easy enough to change. All a matter of the 'tude."


And just like that, he transformed in front of me. Not powers style, just in behavior. He slouched down a little, letting his shoulders slump. A quick run of his fingers through his hair turned a mane into a mop, partially obscuring his eyes. Like that, it was easier to notice flaws in his features I never picked up on before, like his somewhat too large Italian nose now stood out, making his whole face look different.


"See, it's all about 'tude. Body language and the way you carry yourself." And then he was back to standing upright and pushing his hair back into place.


That is freakin' insane. "Yeah, well, you can't hide the fact that you're ripped." And, by extension, I am not.


"True. But that just takes time and effort. It's good for you anyway. Plus it's a way to keep Cassie around after she gets bored with the whole 'has powers' thing. You've got some kind of weird teleportation, right?"


"Uh... yeah, kinda..." Who the hell figured that out so soon? "If I ever get hurt, I heal when teleporting. It cures any poisons and even stops me from getting tired. Or something. I haven't tested it enough to know everything about how it works."


"Huh, that means your body is your weapon. Even more reason to get in shape."


"Right, my ordinary human body."


"Don't sell the 'ordinary human body' short. You can do a lot of damage with just a human body and no concern for your own health. I mean, look at people on drugs like PCP or amphetamines. They shrug off bullets, get up after being hit by a car and break the car in the process, have nearly superhuman reaction times. That's not because these are some kind of gadget drugs or something. Everyone really is always capable of this all the time. As long as you don't mind the fact that you have to destroy yourself to do it."


"And... I have a power that means I don't mind."


"Exactly. And then there's all the other rules in a fight that other people have to follow. Like, only the really stupid and the incredibly cocky will ever go for the face. The bones in your skull are way tougher than the ones in your hands. And there's nothing you can hit other than the eyes which will really slow someone down in a fight. You can do a lot of damage just by letting someone hit you in the head."


And now I feel stupid for the times I hit Kitten in the face. If I'd gone for somewhere else... no, but she could regenerate, too, probably wouldn't have made a difference. "Okay, that's something they don't teach you just anywhere. Kinda like the whole changing your 'tude like that thing."


Alex shrugged. "Unfortunately, my dad and uncles are really into MMA, especially the IA exhibition matches. Personally, I think it's kinda twisted to watch people knife each other while crowds cheer, but you will learn a few things. The rest, that just takes an acting class or two."


Acting classes, that might not be a bad idea. "I've never really thought of any of it like that."


"That, and your powers might let you cheat at working out. Proper body building involves damaging your body so it heals back stronger. If you heal instantly when hurt, that means you might be able to get five or ten times as much actual exercise in the same amount of time. Especially since you could do, like, a hundred reps at your max or sprint for an hour. Shit like that would kill normal people, but you can treat it like a light warm up."


"Or that, I guess."


"Good, now, let's start running before Murray comes over here. Besides, I'm feeling competitive, and racing against someone who can't get tired sounds like fun."


"Superstar versus superhuman, huh?"


"Such an ego, you're no superstar."


"Okay, you're on."


===========================

A/N- I am a little sad I couldn't have ended this chapter where Cassie showed up at lunch. Would have been a fun cliffhanger. Oh well, still think this is one of my better chapters.