“You guys look great!” Quinn said, smiling at his friends.”
“Whoever did your hair did an awesome job,” Keegan said.
“Why thank you! You boys look very dapper and handsome; we’re so proud of you, Quinn, for officially coming out at school today!” Ravone said. “Here, I got us these to celebrate…I’m wearing mine in support of my fabulous friends.” She reached into her purse and pulled out four rainbow-colored silicone wrist bands.
“Aw, thanks,” Keegan said, stretching his band over his left hand.
“Thanks, Ravone,” Quinn added, smiling as he pulled his band over his left hand as well. I’ve never worn any kind of pride-wear before; this is so cool.
“All right, let’s go inside,” Loren added, settling her band on her right wrist. “I’m starving.”
Keegan took Quinn’s hand and they made their way to the decorated entryway. Near the main doors, Mr. St. Germain, playing the role of teacher-chaperone, nodded and winked at him. Quinn waved back as he and his date made their way into the school.
The entrance to the gym had been redecorated to resemble a suspension bridge, complete with aluminum trusses for the towers, suspended lighting for the cables, and blue and purple uplighting. The gymnasium had been converted into a banquet hall and dance floor, adorned with lavish purple and black decorations set to the theme “City Lights.”
In the middle of the bridge, a photography station had been set up and student couples were having their picture taken together as they entered the gym.
“I hope you're ready to immortalize this night in pictures,” Keegan said, pointing at the photographer.
“I am,” Quinn answered, squeezing his hand.
Several moments later, they stepped on the two T-shaped marks on the floor and posed for their photo.
“Are you guys together?” the photographer asked.
“Uh…” Quinn started to answer, noting the photographer was also gay.
“Yes, we are,” Keegan responded, answering for them both.
The photographer smiled at them. “And what a handsome couple you are! Okay, so I’m going to have you two stand closer, then. Why don’t you”—the man pointed at Keegan—“stand here, like this, and you”—to Quinn—“put your arms here and here.” The photographer was not shy when he posed them exactly how he wanted.
“Okay, we’ll do a few nice, traditional photos, to make your parents happy, then we’ll take some fierce and fabulous photos to make you happy.” The man snapped his fingers on the word fabulous.
After the traditional photos were completed, the photographer called out moments like, back-to-back serious-businessman faces, just bit-a-lemon faces, and other silly things that they posed for. When they had finished, they waited for Loren and Ravone, whom the photographer also treated as a couple. Quinn and Keegan laughed the entire time Ravone and Loren were being photographed, relishing in the moment of being together as a couple for the first time at school. Quinn couldn’t help noticing how Keegan’s adorable dimples appeared whenever he smiled and laughed. Then, the four of them made their way to their table.
Inside the gym, the entire back wall had been decorated with a city skyline at night and backlit with the same purple and blue lighting, complete with blinking star lights and a bright moon. Quinn’s eyes focused on a small, hardly noticeable silhouette of a flying superhero glued to a comet-shaped piece of blue construction paper. That’s supposed to be Blue Spekter…unbelievable!
He looked up. Strung across the gym about twenty feet high, suspended icicle Christmas lights that normally hung from roofs in winter completed the ambiance as silver and white table wear finished the look for the evening. Around them, classmates gawked and gossiped while others smiled with approval when they saw Quinn and Keegan hand-in-hand, but Quinn didn’t care. Several of them approached and congratulated them, also wondering if they were an official couple yet. Basking in the attention, Quinn hoped there would not be an accidental discovery of a new power connected with newfound confidence and pride in who he was.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Ravone asked, looking around.
“Yeah, they went all out this year,” Quinn said, marveling at the lavish decorations.
“I told them you were coming out, so they put a little extra effort into the decorations,” Keegan responded with a wink and a smile.
“Thank you,” Quinn said, laughing. Could you say anything sweeter?
The four teens found their table and then looked around for Keegan’s friends, the other four students currently absent from their table.
❖
After dinner, the DJ picked up the beat and the purple and blue uplighting began changing colors as other colored lights and strobe effects pulsed and flashed to the music. Leaving their jackets at the table, the boys made their way to the dance floor with Ravone, Loren, and Keegan’s friends. They laughed and shouted at each other over the music, their arms swinging over their heads as they invented fun and crazy dance moves.
Quinn struggled to keep his eyes off of Keegan because the boy had rhythm and could dance. Eventually, he realized it was okay to look at Keegan as much as he wanted.
For an hour, Quinn forgot about his struggles; his fight with Blake, Victor, and The Order, how his life had changed, and although the general public supported him, that the government wanted him, or how Darien glared at him from across the dance floor over the shoulder of his less-than-thrilled date. To Quinn, all felt right and good, even when the music slowed, and Keegan pulled him in to slow dance.
Since Keegan was a few inches taller than Quinn, he put his hands on Quinn’s shoulders and Quinn put his hands on Keegan’s waist. It was his first slow dance with a guy, and though he welcomed the moment, he wasn’t exactly sure how it was done. He had seen his dads slow dance before, but, they were married…was it the same for him? Keegan seemed to sense Quinn’s lack of sureness and didn’t push—something Quinn absolutely adored about him. Keegan never pushed him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with and always asked if he was okay, like he did in the car ride over.
Quinn looked left and met Ravone’s eyes. She winked at him and beamed with pride. When the song ended, they all made their way to a water station before jumping back into the throng of dancing students, now screaming and shouting the words to a popular song as they jumped in unison on the gym floor, the lights flashing with the powerful beat.
“This DJ is on point,” Loren shouted over the music. They all nodded. Quinn agreed; all the songs he played were his favorite and seemed to keep everyone going on the dance floor, even the kids who didn’t usually partake in dancing.
About an hour later, the DJ switched it up with another popular slow song written by a gay youth artist, one of Quinn’s favorites. Smiling with a renewed sense of pride at hearing this artist’s song at his Homecoming dance, Quinn took Keegan’s hand in his and the two pulled in close to slow dance.
Keegan held him closer than before, and Quinn rested his head on Keegan’s right shoulder. He inhaled deeply, captivated by the sweat-mixed cologne scent on Keegan’s neck. Several moments later, he lifted his head and looked into Keegan’s eyes.
His date returned the gaze with a look that struck Quinn to the core and left him speechless. Then, Keegan smiled. “Your blue eyes…”
Quinn panicked. Oh crap. Wait, I don’t feel them glowing…
“…really sparkle in this light. I’ve never noticed that before.”
Quinn grinned and swallowed the last of his nerves, feeling incredible warmth and happiness in his heart, which pounded in his chest. Then, his neck and face felt hot as he blushed. “Thanks,” he croaked, his eyes locked with Keegan’s.
Quinn felt his date take a deep breath in his arms. Then, Keegan licked his lips and smiled again.
Is his face getting closer to mine?
Wait, is he gonna…oh my gosh…he is…we are…
Keegan tilted his head down. Without thinking, Quinn instinctively responded and tilted his
face upward. Their eyes closed together and when their lips met, Quinn’s body surged with new, amazing, wonderful feelings he couldn’t yet name—but he knew he liked them.
Above them, the myriad of suspended icicle lights flickered wildly, but Quinn didn’t notice or care.
2-15 | Betrayal
Quinn
EXHAUSTED FROM THE HOMECOMING DANCE and his evening with Keegan, Quinn struggled through the last hour of his shift at Breaking New Grounds. The demand for caffeinated goodness was high that day as locals and fall tourists of all walks of life and temperament placed orders for teas, lattes, coffees, and baked goods the shop had to offer.
As customers passed through the line and checked out, Quinn overheard numerous people talking about some at-the-moment crisis happening in Portsmouth. Curious, he asked someone what was going on.
“It’s terrible, there’s a hostage situation at the Sheraton. Someone has locked themselves in one of the banquet rooms with hotel staff and a few guests. Can you believe it?”
As the conversation spread down the line of customers, some of whom filled in the gaps with mostly speculation, Quinn thought about whether or not he should try to rescue the hostages.
“It’s that damn Blue Spekter,” someone said, catching Blake’s super hearing and interest. “He’s got to make a stand or people will keep challenging him.”
“What do you mean?” Quinn blurted out without thinking.
The customer looked at him with surprise and smiled. “The guy who took hostages is demanding to speak with the Blue Spekter or he’ll start shooting.”
“What?” Quinn asked. “That makes no sense. He doesn’t want money or something?” Is he related to the suicide bomber guy?
The man shrugged. “Apparently not. He just wants the vigilante. You can be sure the police aren’t thrilled at the moment.”
Quinn nodded, feigning understanding. Then my mind is made up…I have to make an appearance…I just have to finish my shift. Matt will kill me if I disappear right now.
The last forty-five minutes of his shift couldn’t pass fast enough. Finally, Quinn clocked out and grabbed his gym bag from the back room and rummaged through it, pulling out dark gray sweatpants and a white hoodie.
I really need to take Mr. St. Germain’s advice and figure out what a proper superhero suit should be…
He changed and left the coffee shop through the employee entrance, gym bag in hand, and walked as quickly as he could down Market Street toward the Sheraton. The street was loaded with tourists and there was no way for him to take off in broad daylight without being seen.
The garage will be my safest bet…
He turned left onto Ladd Street and walked into the parking garage, running up an empty stairwell. When he reached the top floor, he carefully looked around and listened. A car drove down into the garage, but he saw no other signs of life.
He soared up and across Hanover Street to hide his gym bag on the roof of the exclusive 100 Club—a rooftop he could easily spot from the sky—so he could retrieve it later. Then, his eyes and body now glowing, he flew up into the sky until he was several hundred feet over the Sheraton. Using his super vision, he watched and scanned the seemingly quiet Sheraton grounds beneath him.
❖
Blake
“I can go faster,” Blake shouted, yelling over the sound of the whirring and over-taxed treadmill under his feet. The technicians, Arik and Miguel, had jury-rigged a high-end treadmill with a fixed torso stabilization system and re-geared it for extreme speeds. They also added a coolant system to keep the treadmill’s rollers and axle points from melting.
The stabilization system was a flat gray piece of padded metal that pressed against his stomach and chest but allowed for enough movement to bounce with his torso as he ran, but it held him in place over the treadmill belt which he had to move with feet. Once he got the hang of it, it felt like running outdoors instead of a self-propelled treadmill belt.
“Go for it,” Dr. Madison shouted, giving him a thumbs up. Arik and Miguel looked at each other nervously, but Blake didn’t care if he broke their machine. The two technicians monitored the make-shift liquid coolant system they had built for the tests, but Blake’s unexpected speed quickly taxed its cooling ability.
Already running three-minute miles, Blake ran faster and watched the treadmill’s speedometer max out. Smoke began billowing from the rear roller as he accelerated and the stabilization system he ran against shuddered loudly with violent protest. The whirring treadmill sound became unbearably loud as the front roller began smoking and shaking. Blake’s eyes blazed with orange fury as Arik and Miguel backed away, violently gesturing for him to stop. He did, but only when Dr. Madison raised her hand and glared at him like an angry school principle. As he slowed, the treadmill belt ruptured and burst into flames, scattering pieces of burning rubber around the room as it surrendered to the excess force Blake had put it through. The room immediately smelled of acrid, molten, and burning rubber.
Blake jumped off the treadmill and backed away, laughing as Arik and Miguel ran for the fire extinguishers and doused the burning treadmill. Several moments later, Blake sat on the stool again, examining the melted soles of his running sneakers. Nadia monitored the readings from his electrode hookups and Dr. Madison checked his pulse and heart rate. Sweat glistened on his skin and ran down his torso, running down his sides from his armpits and dripping from his elbows and fingers.
Victor silently watched the whole test and it's combustive ending, an expression of fascination and amusement dancing upon his face. “Don’t worry, we purchased several pairs of sneakers.”
Blake smirked at him, then turned his attention to Dr. Madison. “All right, Doc, how fast did I run?” he asked. His eyes faded back to normal.
“Faster than the treadmill could handle,” Miguel said letting the fire extinguisher hang at his side. Arik tapped some buttons on the wall and the air exchange system sucked out the nasty burnt rubber smell from the room.
“Do you know what speed you ran at track, prior to acquiring your super powers?” Dr. Madison asked.
“About six-minute miles,” Blake answered.
The doctor chuckled and shook her head. “Amazing, absolutely amazing. Today, when you blew up the treadmill, you ran two-minute miles. What I don’t understand, though, is why you’re barely out of breath. Although you’ve broken a considerable sweat, and although your heartbeat is slightly elevated, your body appears to have already recuperated from a forty-five-minute run in a matter of seconds.”
“Do you need to eat something?” Nadia asked. “Your caloric output is off the charts; I don’t know how you’re still standing, Mister Blake.”
He smiled. “I feel fine. I still have the appetite of a healthy, growing teenager. I’m not the faintest bit ravenous after expending energy like that, but if you’re serving grilled burgers, I’m down for three.”
“I’ll note that for lunch,” Dr. Madison responded, smiling as she checked her watch. “Speaking of which, let’s do one more test before noon. One of your powers is the ability to generate heat and fire, correct?”
Blake nodded.
“We’ve assembled a special titanium chamber for you to stand in and generate as much heat and fire as you want. We’ll measure the internal and external temperatures of the chamber and if it starts to melt you can stop or we’ll extinguish you with a smaller version of a gas-station fire suppression system.”
“Uh-huh,” Blake answered, chuckling. “Victor, do you have another pair of running shorts for me?”
“Yeah why?”
“Because I’m going to need them when I burn this pair off.”
“Oh, right,” Victor answered.
“Nadia, please remove the monitoring equipment from his body,” Dr. Madison said.
Ten minutes later, after Nadia removed the electrodes, Blake stepped in front of the titanium chamber. Its stacked metal construction resembled a log home. Realizing he could save the new running
shorts they had given him, he pulled them off with his socks and tossed them aside. Naked, he stepped into the metal chamber. Arik and Miguel closed and latched the make-shift door behind him, locking him in until the tests were completed.
“Ok, we’ll begin in thirty seconds. We’re going to switch on the overhead exhaust fans and open the air intake valves.” Dr. Madison said, her voice amplified by a speaker mounted under the floor. Above him, exhaust fans switched on and sucked cool air through the chamber. Blake assumed the exhaust fans would safely vent his generated heat to the surface before he had a chance to incinerate everything in the workroom.
Blake centered himself in the dark chamber, legs akimbo, hands clenched into fists. He looked through the small gap in the titanium metal logs that Arik and Miguel had created so he could watch the team get ready for the tests. Seconds later, Dr. Madison gave him a thumbs up.
“Thermal cameras are running, Blake. Let’s do heat-only for the first test, so no active flame, at least to the best of your ability.”
“Okay.” Here goes nothing.
He took a few deep breaths, consciously willing away the nervousness he felt. He paused when he looked down at his naked self, then quickly averted his eyes. I've never done a full body burn before…I hope it doesn't burn my dick off.
He exhaled and let himself heat up hotter than any temperature he had achieved during his tests with Quinn or when he had held back for fear of starting grass fires or burning down his house.
His eyes illuminated the inside of the darkened chamber as he kicked up the temperature, momentarily drenched in sweat until it evaporated the moment his pores released it. Strangely, he didn't feel unusually warm, despite his body’s automatic response.
“Okay, Blake, where are you at? Is this half-power or full power?”
“I have no idea,” he shouted over the noise of the exhaust fan, wondering how they would hear him. Maybe there's a microphone around me somewhere.
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