Invincible (7 page)

He makes a face and shrugs, turning back to his game. Wow, that was easy. I thought he was going to kill m
e. Maybe I underestimated him.

But that all that came to an end when I started heading into the kitchen, and the rug got pulled out from under me.

"Well, I went by your school regardless," he says. "I thought you would be there, but no, you weren't. Want to know what happened instead?"

I froze in my steps. Man, I was so overwhelmed by what happened today, that I forgot about a crack in my plan—Brad picking me up from school.

I didn't speak. I turn around and look at him, shocked at the now angered expression upon his face.

"Instead," he continues, his voice having more of an edge, turning down the TV, "I have the principal running up to me, telling me that you caused a big commotion after lunch. Something about you and some boy named Rick Evans. Now I know you wouldn’t do something as stupid as this for some girl’s attention, so I’ll assume this is the guy that’s been bothering you, right?"

I didn't answer the question, afraid that if I say the wrong thing, he would attack me. But there was no reason to answer, anyway. He was asking me questions that both of us already knew the answer to.

"Well, while you're lost for words, I'll be glad to tell you that they had to escort Rick to the hospital and that you'll have to talk to the principal tomorrow to discuss your consequences. Is there anything you’d like to say?"

I knew that I had two strikes, but it really didn’t matter because even though I was worried about Brad, I was more concerned about Rick.

He had to be escorted to the hospital?
I think.
How powerful was I?
Powerful enough to put a strong football player in the hospital, I guess.

Still, if I didn't say anything, it would be strike three, and I really didn't want to see how that one would go.

"I'm sorry, Brad," I say, my voice a sympathetic tone. "I should have avoided the problem, and I should have called you the moment it happened. I’m sorry."

Brad looks at me for a moment, and then nods his head. "That's good. Just don't do that again, okay? You could've got in more trouble than you are in now if you continued to beat him up."

I felt sick to my stomach. First because he didn't punish me, and it didn't seem like that big of a deal to him about what had taken place. Before he looked as though he was going to throw me out, but somehow, that changed. He lowered his guard, and something told me that it was for a reason. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want to ask questions if they were going to lead to more problems. Also the way he said that last part sounded too repulsive. It was almost as if he thought
I
started the fight, when really I was just trying to get out of there. If Rick would have left me alone, none of this would’ve happened.

"The principal said that there were witnesses," he says. "How many people were there?"

I didn’t know where to start? Oh, yeah, now I remember…the entire student body!

"Only a few," I reply.

"Hmm. Just checking. So, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine."

"That's nice. Quite funny, actually. Never knew I had The Incredible Hulk living in my house."

Me neither.

"Yeah," I snicker. "I'm just one big walking ball of fury."

We laugh. I really didn't think it was all that funny, but if it took the attention off of school, it was all right with me.

After that, Brad tells me there was food left on the table, and that if I wanted to, I could stay up an extra hour before going to bed. I tell him that despite his generous offer, I’d rather just eat and head off to bed. He didn't seem to mind, just nodding his head and facing the TV.

From there, I head towards the kitchen, helping myself to the delicious steaks, green beans, and baked potatoes that Brad had made.

Once I’m back into the bedroom, I close the door and lock it. I head towards the computer desk. Brad wouldn't mind me using it, because he never did. I don't know why, but for some reason, he just never seemed to talk about
the computer, or the internet.

After I wipe the dust from the monitor, I turn on the computer. It starts off slowly, giving off signs that Brad hasn’t been on this thing for quite some time. My attention then focuses onto the screen saver that appears over the monitor, a picture of Brad and his daughter, Zoë, at a community pool, from the looks of it. He was waist deep inside the pool, his arms raised as he lifts the lit
tle girl into the air, smiling.

There was something weird about the way Brad smiled. Not just the way he did in this picture, but all the others I've seen around the house. I mean, to others, it would just be some stupid smile, but to me, it was something more. He smiled differently, as if there were no tomorrow, as if he would never have

another moment like that in his life, and at any moment, it could be taken away from him.

If I’d noticed this, I was for certain Brad did, too. Not that I knew much about it, but it looked as though his loss left him deeply affected. That was the reason he cried when he showed me this room. It was clearly obvious now that he had never entered it until that moment, and when it was, it was for the offering of some stray, clueless kid. That was why he didn't take no for an answer when I refused to stay.

That was the
real
purpose for me being here. Not for me to have a place to stay while I tried to put things together, but for
him
to make himself feel better. To have the company of another, to escape the pain he was enduring.

I didn't want to believe that, but recently a lot of things that I’ve thought were impossible were suddenly starting to become reality. How was this any different?

I click on the internet icon. I didn't want to be tempted to see or think about what else was on here. More pictures. Videos. Maybe even journals. Ugh. Just the thought of it upsets me. For what reason, I didn't know, but I wasn't in the mood to figure it out. I wasn’t on this computer to find clues to Brad's depressing past life. I was here for other reasons.

The icon led to a search engine. I type in the word
abilities
, and a whole bunch of ridiculous things started to pop up. A disability program address, a few therapy session sites, and a lot of dictionary meanings. And that was just the half of it. The remainder of it was even more garbage.

On the verge of giving up, going through more and more garage-worthy results, I click onto page eleven of the engine, and found nothing that I was looking for. The gray, rusty mouse positioned to exit,

but then I notice something, an article called Abilities v. Superpowers.

The title intrigued me. It made me realize that I was looking in the wrong direction. I didn’t click on the page. Instead I type in another word. Another, more popular word than what I’d thought of before.

Superpowers.

The results come up after a few minutes, and it was a lot more to look through than the previous search, giving me videos, bands, books, web comics, even the location of a few Halloween costume stores.

I ignored all of them when I discovered a rather interesting result. One that led to a blog of some sort, called The Amazing List of Superhuman Features.

After the site loads, my focus kicks into high-gear, immediately reading through the introduction, which explained how there were many kinds of superpowers, and how I would find every single one on this website. They also forewarned me to not take such resources so seriously, as they’re only based on theories and comic books.

I scroll down and find the list. The webmaster was right. There was probably every superpower known to man on this thing. And if some of these were what I had—and I'm sure they were—I would, at least, know what they are.

I skip the things I knew wouldn't have anything to do with me. Energy-blasting, elemental manipulation, teleportation. ..I click on mutation, thinking that would be a good place to start, though I was pretty sure that wasn’t what I possessed.

I click onto something else. Invulnerability. I already knew what it was, but I read it anyway, hoping it to be one of my so-called
gifts
.

Suddenly, I exit that part, finding something more intriguing. Superhuman reflexes, the ability to

react faster than a normal human. Sadly, there was no way that could be one of them. Maybe to someone else, it would, but not to a person with the agility of a stick. So I guess I’ll have to go with my gut and assume that what I had was super-speed, and super-speed, alone.

I notice one that says superhuman sense, and immediately open it. This one made sense to me. The ability to feel, see, smell, and hear more than a normal human.

Hearing. My senses must be heightened to some degree. That was why I was able hear everything that everyone was saying. Finally, I found a lead.

Superhuman strength was the next thing that caught my attention. It was the power to be stronger than any human possible. That could go with my super-kick theory. No, scratch that; it
was
the reason for my super-kick.

As for the falling out on the bed thing, there was nothing I could find. Well, nothing besides flying. But that was out of the question. I tried to be open-minded about all of this, but that was where I crossed the line. How did I know? I just knew. It was a ridiculous assumption, and even if it did exist, there was no possible way for me to be a flyer. It just didn’t seem right. End of story.

Tired and angry, I shut off the computer. I felt stupid, and in some way, embarrassed. Why on earth am I sitting in a room, researching and trying to figure out what my powers were, when I could just go out and discover the possibilities for myself?

I put on my shoes, deciding to head out to the backyard. I didn’t hear any sounds coming from downstairs, so that must've meant that Brad was asleep. Either that or he was being really silent, but either way, it was easier for me to sneak out. Not that

it would’ve mattered. At this rate, I could sneak out the house with or without him awake, and he would never notice.

I tiptoe down the stairs in the dark house, reaching the kitchen. From there, I go through the hallway, open the back door and head outside.

The backyard was a large, open field. That's exactly what it was, with basically no other way to be described. I walk upon the soft blades of grass, making my way toward the center of the yard. When I get there, I stand still, my eyes focused on the trees, which were randomly placed across the yard.

I think about going back inside, to go back to bed, and forget this whole day even happened. But then I realize how much effort I put into coming out here, and I wasn't going back in until I accomplished what I’d set out to do.

But what would that be? Testing the running again? The super-hearing? The strength?

I decide to go with the hearing, since I already did the running experiment earlier, and my body wasn’t really up for testing at this time of night.

So how would I start this? Hyping myself up? Relaxing my body? Neither of those things caused me to have my first reaction. All I did before that was think about Taylor....

That’s it! My thinking about Taylor. That must be how it activates. This was how I would control it.

I start thinking of Taylor, and begin to think that this would a piece of cake. That is until the pain kicks in, along with the booming sounds of the outdoors. I close my eyes, holding onto my head and kneeling down. I couldn't depict what each sound was, like I did earlier today, but maybe if I tried hard enough, I could possibly do it again.