Super Powereds: Year 2 (36 page)

Blaine heard the door open behind him and felt the cool air waft out from the apartment. Clarissa’s place had an amazing view, but the price was standing in the unseasonable heat. It was still early summer, yet Blaine was certain he’d sweated through his shirt and that only his suit jacket was concealing the shame. He wondered if that’s why a jacket was part of such fancy ensembles in the first place.

“Man, you’ve got the right idea. I need a little fresh air; that place is too loud and stuffy.” Blaine knew the voice instantly, as he knew every voice in attendance that night. All of them belonged to his classmates in the HCP, all save for one. It was the unique voice that he knew best of all, and that voice was part of why he stood on the balcony suppressing a craving instead of socializing with everyone else.

Fortunately, his new companion was not the owner of that voice. This one belonged to Joshua, who came to the railing and looked over the city with him.

“Hard to believe in a few weeks we’ll all be going in different directions,” Joshua remarked.

“Mmhmm.”

“Any idea who you’ll be apprenticing under?”

“There aren’t any official offers made until after graduation,” Blaine pointed out.

“Come on, man, you and I both know you’ll be one of the ten. You can’t tell me you haven’t gotten a few feelers already.”

“There may have been some inquiries. Genogong and Grey Earl have been particularly persistent,” Blaine admitted.

“Wow, those two are pretty impressive,” Joshua complimented. “All I’ve gotten so far is a vague interest from Shade Slime.”

“More will come after the test,” Blaine assured him.

“Maybe. I’m not exactly the most impressive of our lot, power-wise.” Joshua said this with an easygoing smile that never seemed to leave his lips. It was the truth, but only because of the tremendous crop of talent their class had yielded. Besides, what Joshua might lack in showmanship, he made up for in reliability and charm. He had knack for turning everyone into a friend, and given the competiveness of their environment, that was almost more useful than his actual power.

“I’m positive you’ll get a solid offer,” Blaine said. “I can’t imagine anyone underestimating you once they see what you can do.”

“I’ll hope for the best, that’s all any of us can do.” Joshua pulled a flask from his own jacket pocket. He carefully unscrewed the top and offered the container to Blaine. “Care for a nip? I know you prefer bourbon to the wine Clarissa stocked.”

Blaine didn’t bother asking why he would have a flask of that brand on hand; the answer was evident. It was to appease the woman Joshua had come with, the one who Blaine had introduced to this beverage in the first place. He accepted the flask and took a short draw.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Joshua said, taking his own sip. He swished it around as he debated how to broach the subject on his mind. Eventually he decided the straightforward route was the best option. “Look, not to make this uncomfortable or anything, but I just wanted to make sure you and I are cool.”

Blaine bit back a scathing retort and soothed his temper. He didn’t have any right to act that way, not when Joshua had been so honest and forthright with him from the beginning. “Of course we are. Miriam and I broke up over three years ago. I’m glad the two of you have found happiness with one another.”

“I appreciate that,” Joshua replied. “I really like dating her; I think we might have a future together. Let me know if it gets awkward, okay? I don’t have to bring her to all our events if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I will make certain to tell you if that becomes an issue.” Blaine would cut out his own tongue before he’d actually let it speak those words.

“Cool,” Joshua said, taking another sip from the flask. “Cool.”

“Did Gerard have any trouble scrubbing the stain from the tea out?” Blaine was unabashedly changing the subject. He’d had a small incident during Clarissa’s serving ceremony which resulted in him spilling tea on Gerard’s pants. He’d said it was because of the heat of the cup, but the truth was he’d seen Miriam grab Joshua’s thigh. In that instant his coordination had simply deserted him.

“He got most of it; I think a good dry-cleaner can fix the rest,” Joshua told him. “Once you do graduate maybe your Hero name should be Butterfingers.”

“Or The Fumbler.”

“Spilltacular,” Joshua said with a chuckle. Blaine laughed too, if only because he couldn’t really think of anything else to do. “On that note, have you given any thought to your actual Hero name? We’ll have to register them right after the White Cape ceremony.”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas I’ve been kicking around. You?”

“Honestly? I’ve got an idea, but I keep waffling back and forth on if I should come up with something better.”

“You’ve still got a month,” Blaine said.

“True. Hopefully I’ll find some inspiration. Tell me one of yours, maybe it will get the creative juices flowing.”

“Well, I haven’t found one that seems perfect yet, but there are a few near the top. For example, you know how my ability affects an area around my body?”

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking of doing a play on that,” Blaine explained. “At first I considered Radius or Sphere, but those sounded too mathematical. Then one day I was sitting in class and it hit me. The perfect name for how my power encircles me: Globe.”

68.

Thomas hunched over his kitchen table, a large piece of paper with multiple written entries to his side and a laptop directly in front of him. His other roommates were there as well, their own checklists present, however they had not brought out personal computers.

“Okay,” Thomas said with a deep breath. “So we’ve found a good deal on some kegs, we’ve located a place two towns over that sells plastic cups in bulk, and we’ve alerted our neighbors to the impending disturbance. What’s next?”

“Food,” Stella replied.

“We have to feed them too?” Will asked.

“You guys really haven’t been to many parties,” Violet commented. It was one point that she mentioned at least once an hour. She’d been shocked when Thomas told her he’d been tasked with throwing the party the freshmen were invited to, and even more floored when he said he’d decided to do it. Despite having dated him for a few months, there were times when Violet felt she never really knew her tan-skinned friend. He’d approached it with his usual meticulous voracity, and now that they didn’t have a midterm to worry about, it seemed like they’d be able to get it on track in a matter of weeks.

“Food is there to help people sober up if they overshoot their limits,” Violet explained. “You make it things like pretzels and bread to help soak up the booze.”

“That’s actually a common myth,” Will corrected. “Food existing in the stomach before alcohol is introduced can affect the rate of absorption; however, once the alcohol has been ingested, new food would have no discernible effect. It is simple biology.”

“Fair enough, but you just said yourself it’s a commonly held myth, right?” Violet asked.

“Indeed.”

“Then people who believe it will help calm their stomachs and make them less intoxicated could very likely see those effects since they’re expecting them. Same as sugar pills in place of painkillers.”

“Ah, you’re referencing the Placebo Effect.”

“It is simple psychology.”

“Point taken,” Will said. Other men of his intelligence might have balked at being bested by a girl who specialized in brawn over brains, but Will had long ago learned that intelligence in one area didn’t make him infallible in others. He was a mechanic: he looked at the body like a machine and often forgot the less tangible components the mind could present. “I believe we can get sandwiches from The Mayo Hut at a sizable discount thanks to the owner’s infatuation with my sister.”

“Pimping your own sister to the cause, that’s dedication.” Stella said.

“It is something of a family tradition to place one another in uncomfortable positions,” Will replied. “Besides, with as much patronage as she gives that establishment, I’d think it only good business to provide her preferential treatment.”

“Jill does love her sandwiches,” Thomas agreed. “So we’ll let her take care of that and I can pick up a few jumbo bags of pretzels from the same place from which we’re getting the cups.” Thomas scratched a long line through one of the items on his paper as Will jotted down the details of his new task. “What’s next?”

“Guest list,” Violet said.

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t think we pick and choose. I’ll just spread the word through the freshmen and anyone who is brave enough to show up is welcome. That’s how Angela did it and I feel it worked quite well.”

“I’d agree, but I wasn’t talking about the freshmen.” Violet looked at her friends and carefully framed her next words. “Look, there’s a bit of an elephant in the room here that none of us has brought up. We need to talk about it. Are we going to invite the Powereds to this thing?”

“They’re not-”

“I know they aren’t, Thomas, but you get what I mean.”

“I thought we agreed at the beginning of the year to treat them with the same friendship they’ve shown us,” Thomas pointed out. Stella and Will nodded in agreement.

“We did, and I still think we should, but despite the fact that we’re throwing it, this party isn’t really about us. It’s about the freshmen, and introducing them to the Lander community as a whole.”

“All the more reason to show them that we are accepting of people who may come from different backgrounds than ourselves,” Thomas rebutted. “We will set the standard for them to look to.”

“We are accepting - ‘we’ being the key word,” Violet said, softening her voice so as not to seem aggressive. “Not everyone else is, and they may not want to socialize with people who started life as Powereds. It’s prejudiced and ignorant, but there’s a lot of unspoken dislike and hate for those five even if we choose to ignore it. Now, if this were just us putting together a shindig, I’d say fuck ‘em if they don’t like our friends. But again, this is about the freshmen, and what impression do you think they’ll take from a party populated solely by the people who live in the house and the school’s pariahs?”

“She makes a valid point,” Will said. “We’re supposed to be bringing them into the larger community of Supers. Inviting the residents of Melbrook could very well limit that community.”

“I don’t like it, but I think I understand your concern,” Thomas admitted. “So what’s the right thing to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Violet replied. “That’s why I brought it up. It seems like either decision is morally wrong in some aspect.”

The four sat silently in contemplation for a few moments. Each was lost in a maelstrom of their own ethical quandaries, a tornado of possible decisions and uncertainty. Curiously, it was Stella who provided the insight that allowed them to move forward.

“You know, you guys keep talking about how we’re bringing them into the Super community, but that’s not actually true,” Stella said, breaking the kitchen’s unhappy silence. “We’re not Supers, and we’re not a community of Supers. We’re a community of future Heroes. Of course not all of us will make it, but all of us are striving to earn the title. Heroes don’t cave to the pressures of hate. Heroes do what’s right, no matter what. So what if some people don’t show up? I say it’s more important to set the example of acceptance even when, no, especially when it’s an unpopular decision.”

“That was... surprisingly eloquent,” Will said, mustering his own words through the fog of surprise.

“I gots my moments,” Stella quipped back.

“Right then; we invite everyone in our class, no exceptions,” Thomas said. “Agreed?” He received three nearly synchronized nods from his roommates. “Glad that’s settled. Next item of business: plastic sheeting for all the carpeted areas. Anyone have a clue where to get that stuff? Because otherwise I see no way we’ll be getting our security deposit back on this place.”

69.

“Professor Fletcher?” The voice came from his office door, which Carl had never gotten in the habit of closing. He felt an open door policy should actually involve an open door. It was one of those pleasantries that seemed to have died away over time, and damn it, if he was going to be stuck in his golden years, he reserved the right to live in the past. Carl glanced up from the paperwork on his desk, a bit surprised to see Roy Daniels standing the doorway.

“Come on in,” he said, giving a curt nod to the chair. Unlike the office’s previous tenant, Professor Fletcher was fastidious in keeping the place straight and minimizing clutter. Roy had no trouble navigating to the chair or dropping into a sitting position. Once there he did seem to have some trouble getting the conversation started. Professor Fletcher found himself curious; the Daniels boy never seemed to feel out of place. This must be something pretty interesting.

“I assume you didn’t just come in here to admire my impressive office.”

“No, sir.” Roy’s gaze was on the old wooden desk in front of him, so he missed the fleeting look of shock that dashed across the professor’s face. He couldn’t remember ever hearing Roy refer to anyone as ‘sir’ before.

“So how can I help you?”

“I’m not sure what’s wrong, not exactly,” Roy said. “But I, well, it seems like I’ve hit a wall.”

“Damn it,” Professor Fletcher said, pulling out a form from the top drawer of his desk. “I wish you physical ability kids would learn to keep your shit under control. Okay, we’ll get a maintenance report in. Tell me where it was, and don’t you dare say it was above ground.”

Roy paused for a moment as the words clicked into place. He wasn’t as smart as Hershel, but he put it together eventually. “No, I mean a figurative wall. With my strength.”

“Ohhh, thank heavens.” Professor Fletcher put the paper away and let out a sigh of relief. He noticed the expression on his student’s face and felt compelled to explain. “Not to belittle your problems, it’s just that those forms can be a real pain in the ass if any damage occurs outside the HCP facility.”

“Gotcha.”