by Drew Hayes
“Your mind is drifting.”
“Sorry.” Alice could never figure out how he knew when her brain started filling up with idle thoughts, but the man had a knack for it. Empty mind turned into distracted mind more than she would have expected. A couple of deep breaths dissolved the meanderings of her brain and put her concentration back on the ugly, leaning table.
The hardest part was reorienting the way she thought of her power. She’d always picture her flight as severing the connections with gravity, which had left her idly tumbling through the air when she was a Powered. No, Alice didn’t ignore gravity, she repurposed it. She understood now that she oriented it in the direction of her choosing. What she could do was less flying and more incredibly-controlled falling. Alice kept that thought in mind. She wasn’t trying to push the table over: she was just trying to shift the gravity slightly to the side.
Her eyes close as she imagined hundreds of hands all over the room, each one stretching directly from the ground and grabbing an object dead center then pulling down. The hands weren’t pulling hard, just firmly enough to bring down anything unbalanced. Alice put her attention on the hand gripping the table. Rather than trying to sever it or make it curl, she tried to slide it ever so slightly to the left. It moved in her mind, inch by inch, pulling the table at an increasingly acute angle. There was a soft thud as the table tumbled over, its mass too low to generate any more impressive sounds.
“Nicely done,” Professor Hill complimented. Alice had to suppress the urge to squeal with joy. Every time she pulled it off she still felt a rush of surprise and giddiness. The professor moved to reset the table so she could try again.
“Wait,” Alice said.
Professor Hill looked over at her. “Do you need another break?”
“No, I just want to try something.”
“By all means.” Professor Hill stepped back and kept his eyes on his pupil. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at the now-defeated obstacle. He smiled to himself, perfectly aware of what was going through her head. She’d found a method that felt particularly effective and she wanted to test it in other applications. She was trying to recreate it, just as it had been seconds ago. If she succeeded, she’d be taking a big step forward; if she failed, she’d likely waste several days trying fruitlessly to recapture that initial sense of magic.
The table leapt from the ground and rocketed to the ceiling, smashing itself to bits against a metal support pillar.
“Very impressive.”
“Not really; I was just trying to stand it up.”
“Still, you got a good bit of force with that one. Control is learned through practice, and now we know you can handle heavier and more stable objects.”
“You think so?”
A few splinters of particle board wafted down from the ceiling and settled on Professor Hill’s shoulders. He watched them land then surveyed the other chunks of former-table that now littered the ground before him.
“I’m positive you’ll be fine.”
71.
Sasha and Julia were already sitting on the couch when Jill got back from class. They’d queued up some mindless fashion show that Jill had never truly understood the appeal of but had learned to fake interest in all the same. For the most part she genuinely liked her roommates and she indulged their peculiar tastes just as she was sure they indulged hers. Today she had good ground to mute the television, thankfully, as she came bearing news.
“Soooo guess whose brother is throwing a big house party next weekend?”
Sasha paused the show, an image of a wafer-thin girl traipsing down the catwalk frozen across the screen. “Will is throwing a party? What’s the theme, physics through the ages?”
“Funny. No, actually Thomas is putting it on. It’s the traditional November kegger where we see which of the remaining freshmen have the balls to attend.”
“Oh yeah, I remember something about that last year,” Julia chimed in. “Didn’t we skip it?”
“We did indeed. Evidently it was pretty decent,” Sasha replied.
“Well, you won’t be missing this year. Will has never been involved in planning a party before so we’re going to be supportive. Plus, we want to make sure the freshmen don’t make the mistake of thinking they’ve got more good-looking girls than our class.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Julia said. “Although they do have a girl whose ability is to appear as your heart’s desire.”
“Ohhhh yeah, I heard about her. Seems like cheating,” Sasha pointed out.
“More cheating than a girl who eats nothing but sugar and stays thin thanks to her super-charged metabolism?”
“Touché,” Sasha yielded. It would have been hard to argue the point, as she currently had a bag of marshmallows and a bowl of chips in front of her. She popped a fluffy white treat in her mouth to illustrate the point and perhaps to rub it in just a bit.
“So who all is going to be there?” Julia asked.
“According to Will so far they’ve gotten confirmation from Shane, Amber, Britney, and Gilbert. Chad is a probably since Shane is going, and I’m sure Stella will bully Camille into showing up. They only started spreading the word today, so the guest list will likely get much bigger.”
“And just how far are they planning to spread this word?” Julia asked.
“Everyone in the sophomore class is welcome to come,” Jill replied.
“Every person, or every Super?”
“Everyone.”
“If that’s the kind of party it is I’m not certain we’ll be able to make it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sasha interrupted. She looked at Jill and gave her a smile. “Please tell Will to count me as attending.”
“Really?”
“Really?” Julia echoed.
“Really,” Sasha confirmed. She popped another marshmallow in her mouth and chewed it slowly. She still wasn’t certain how she felt about Vince or any potential of a future together, but she did know the hot poker of pain and anger that used to reside in her stomach had faded. Maybe it was his apology; maybe it was seeing things from his side. Deep down, Sasha suspected the greatest cause had simply been that hating him had been easier than missing him; however, that thought was buried too deep to be consciously considered. The hate was gone, whatever the reason, and she found the idea of seeing him at a social function somewhat appealing. Especially a social function with alcohol.
“I guess I’m going too,” Julia said, slumping slightly. She’d been trying to have her friend’s back, now she felt like she’d just come off like a snobbish bitch. She wasn’t entirely wrong.
“I’ll let him know,” Jill replied. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“Fashion and ice cream,” Sasha replied, restarting the show and allowing the waif of a woman to finally finish her walk.
“Awesome,” Jill lied, hoping the ice cream would at least be enjoyable.
* * *
Vince had beaten a variety of challenges in his time at Lander. He’d learned to use electricity, he’d strengthened his fighting skills, and most importantly, he’d mostly overcome his fears of losing control. Those successes made the current wall he encountered all the more frustrating. He’d tried every trick he knew, put in hours of effort, yet still he felt like he wasn’t making any progress at all. It was a sentiment Roy would have understood well; however, their lack of frequent communication made such sharing unlikely. Besides, while their frustrations were the same, the causes were very different.
“Uuuugh,” Vince moaned, resisting the urge to slam his head into the book. No matter how much he tried, algebra refused to make any sense to him. Part of it was his lack of traditional schooling; while his father had taught him a lot, they’d never gotten to equations this advanced. Another part was the way his brain was wired. Vince’s mind simply wasn’t one built for anything beyond basic math. The more effort he put into changing that fact, the more convinced he was that it was like trying to light a fire wit
h wet stone.
“My sentiments exactly,” said a voice to his side. Vince glanced over to see an unfamiliar male with the same class textbook open. They were both in the study kiosks provided by the library. There was little privacy, but since everyone was there for the same purpose, they generally worked fairly well. Many of the kiosks were available today; however, last year had taught Vince that as the semester’s end drew closer they’d invariably grew more crowded every day.
“You having trouble too?”
“I’m not here because of the soothing décor,” the guy chuckled. “I’m Larry, by the way.”
“Vince.”
“Nice to meet you, Vince, and can I say that is some awesome hair.” Larry’s own locks were a robin’s egg blue and hung down near his eyes.
“Yours is pretty interesting as well.”
“I try; Super-chic is hard to get down pat. It’s so easy to go too far, you have to walk the line between subtlety and opulence. I think you did a good job with yours.”
“Thanks.” Vince never understood why it was fashionable to try to emulate the defects that marked some people with powers, but then again, he also didn’t understand why a brown belt with black pants was considered sacrilege. Much like math, this was a subject his brain simply wasn’t built to handle.
“Look, I’m here killing time before a study group some people in my class put together starts. We could always use another person to add their brain power.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m not sure I’d be anything other than a drain. I’m pretty hopeless at this stuff.”
“All the more reason to come along. Maybe we’ll get lucky and one of the people will be a good teacher.”
Vince hesitated; he really didn’t want to intrude on someone else’s group. HCP students had to maintain a C average in every course, however, and if he didn’t find a way to get some handle on this material, he wasn’t sure that he’d pull it off in this one.
“I guess I could give it a try, if you’re sure it won’t be a bother.”
“Not at all, I’m absolutely positive you can’t be any worse at this than me.”
“I appreciate it, Larry.”
“No problem, but call me L-Ray.”
“That’s a unique name,” Vince commented.
“I’ll give the explanation later. Right now we need to head over to room C-4 if we don’t want to miss anything.”
Vince collected his notes, stuffed them in his book, and followed L-Ray in the very faint hope that his study group would offer him some semblance of comprehension.
72.
“I wonder what’s keeping Walter,” Candi said as she scanned the cafeteria. With his horn-rimmed glasses and buoyantly curly hair, her fellow freshman was generally hard to miss. He was also rather prompt in his nature, making her wonder if something had detained him after their gym session finished. She knew he’d been trying to uncover information about their mysterious upcoming midterm, and an idle hope flittered through her that perhaps he’d had some luck.
“I’m sure he’ll be along,” Cameron assured her between mouthfuls of chicken. The buzz-cut sporting boy always boasted a voracious appetite after training; deep down the others often wondered how he’d managed to stay trim before the HCP had forced him into three hours of daily exercise.
“I think I saw him talking to a sophomore when we were heading to the lifts,” Gale chimed in. The three of them, plus Walter, had bonded early in the year and tended to spend most of their time outside of class together. Candi initially had a bit of friction with Gale, but the two had eventually come to a point of mutual respect that was evolving into admiration.
“Really? Maybe he’s making some progress on the, well, you know.” The dorm cafeteria was always filled more with humans than with their kind, so Candi made a point to use vague terms whenever possible.
“Maybe,” Gale replied. She turned her attention back to her salad topped only with oil and sesame seeds. Candi had to look away; she’d long ago accepted other people’s dietary choices but it still turned her stomach to see such violence piled atop a plate. She focused on her own meal: two pork chops and a chicken breast. Candi got her greens when they were willingly given, not by brutally assaulting innocent plants for her own gain.
The trio ate in silence for a few minutes before a fourth figure plopped down next to them.
“Evening, all,” Walter greeted.
“About time,” Gale chastised. “We’re almost done here.”
“My sincere apologies, dear lady. I do hope you’ll forgive my tardiness, I was in the depths of conversation with one of our elder classmates.”
“Cut the funny talk and get to it,” Cameron urged. He was a good guy, but he could be a bit antsy.
“All right. One of the sophomores, a young man named Thomas, wanted to let me know about a party they’re throwing next Saturday,” Walter explained. “Evidently all the freshmen are invited.”
“I don’t trust it,” Gale said immediately. “I bet it’s some sort of weird hazing ritual. We show up and they make us dress like chickens or wrestle in Jell-O.”
“That actually sounds pretty fun,” Cameron pointed out.
“Speak for yourself; do you know how long Jell-O stains your skin?” All eyes turned to Candi, who began to blush immediately.
“Moving past that, though we will definitely circle back to it, my understanding is that this is something of a tradition once our class reaches its current size. It’s sort of an olive branch to let us know that we’ve lasted long enough to be part of the community.”
“I still don’t trust it,” Gale reiterated. No one was particularly surprised by her misgivings; Gale’s particular power hadn’t always led to her seeing the best in human nature. They tolerated her untrusting demeanor, if for no other reason than she had proven her ability to get past it for the sake of friendship.
“Will there be beer?” Cameron’s eyes were already shining with anticipation. If there was one thing he loved, it was beer. If there were two things he loved, it was beer and adventure. The others often joked that Cameron would have walked right through the gates of Hell if promised an open bar and a good fight.
“Multiple kegs,” Walter assured him. “It might be interesting for you three to know that I did a little extra asking around after our conversation, and this Thomas fellow is good friends with The Five.”
This drew their attention more than any other fact, with the possible exception of Cameron and his beer question. The Five were already a legend in the lower class, though none had ever dared approach them. Everyone knew the rumors: that they had been born Powereds but had somehow become Supers, that one was so powerful two teachers had tried to kidnap her for nefarious purposes, that The Five had been strong enough to overtake them both and rescue their friend. Many of their classmates held The Five in contempt for their origins; however, the four students currently seated felt more curiosity toward them than anything else.
“Why would they go to a party? It’s commonly known the whole sophomore class hates them,” Gale said.
“Not the whole class,” Cameron rebutted. “I’ve seen that short girl and the goofy-looking guy hanging out with them a lot.”
“Plus it seems Thomas and his roommates have a long-standing friendship with them. They were one of the first ones to show loyalty after the big secret came out,” Walter added.
“How do you know that?” Candi asked.
Walter gave his usual noncommittal shrug. “I listen and I ask questions.” The truth was he hung out by the older students’ rooms frequently, either under the guise of being lost or having his head crammed into a book for studying. It wasn’t very dignified, so Walter tried to craft an aura of mystery to explain his extra knowledge.
“I say we go,” Cameron volunteered. “I mean, they’ve got beer.”
“No surprise there,” Candi sighed, absentmindedly brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes. “I want to go too. It sounds like it could be prett
y interesting.”
“I’m obviously in; no way I’d miss such a networking opportunity,” Walter agreed. Three sets of eyes set upon Gale, who was finishing up her salad. She chewed slowly, savoring every bit of flavor the withered plants could offer. Finally she set her fork down and looked at the others.
“I guess I could go for a little while. But the first sign of bullshit and I’m out the door.”
The other three cheered, drawing strange looks from the rest of the cafeteria. The four HCP freshmen paid the stares no attention. They were well-accustomed to being weirdoes to the bulk of the world.
73.
“Yo, Shades. Wait up!” Nick paused his solitary saunter toward Melbrook as a sprinting figure with tightly-braided hair caught up to him.
“Stella,” Nick greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure of such demure company?”
“I’m supposed to spread the word about the annual freshman welcoming party,” Stella replied briskly. A normal girl would have been at least panting after such a furious dash. The time in the HCP gym had left her far from a normal girl.
“Ah yes, I remember our beer pong adventure from last year. Who is hosting?”
“We are. Well, Thomas is organizing it, but the shindig is at our place. It’s next Saturday. We’ll have kegs; but, we wanted ask you to bring liquor if possible. That shit can get expensive to provide.”
“Very true. How are you guys even getting kegs? None of you are twenty-one yet.”
Stella gave him a cunning smile. “Oh, Violet and I have our sources.”
“Slipped the guy at the beer barn an extra fifty bucks?”
“Plus some gratuitous flirting,” Stella admitted.
“Liquor shouldn’t be a problem. Hershel must have some sort of hook-up.”
“Hershel?”
Nick nodded. “He uses whiskey to turn into Roy, remember? He made that clear during last year’s fiasco. Given how much time he spends as Roy, it seems only logical he has some sort of source.”
“Oh yeah. I guess I never thought to wonder where he got his supply.”