Anna glared at me with teary, red-rimmed eyes. “Wow, you really have checked out, haven’t you?” She thrust her phone in my face.
I leaned forward and stared at the photo of Johnny Wise, Anna’s favorite musician. Underneath the photo was a headline declaring Wise dead of possible suicide at twenty-six.
“Oh man, that’s so sad.” I tried to hug her, but she pulled away. Aware of the awkward distance between us, I said, “Why didn’t you text me?”
“Seriously?” Anna jumped to her feet, glaring at me. “Like you would have cared. I only ever see you at school and you’re so freaking distant. You’re always with your cousins. You never have time for anyone else.”
I felt a pang of guilt, a familiar emotion these days. “I’m sorry. It’s just that with me reconnecting with them and then Hugh dying and Emma getting in major trouble, it’s been, well, pretty intense.” I had a feeling I couldn’t use that excuse for much longer. I was starting to sound like a song on repeat.
A few months ago, I’d asked Zoe and Kevin what they told their normal friends about all the time they spent elsewhere. Both had given me blanks looks. Despite having a normal parent each, neither of them had ever had many normal friends and didn’t get why I was concerned about staying close to Anna. I wasn’t sure I could explain it to myself, except I knew a part of me didn’t want to give up my connections to my old life. Anna was one of the strongest connections. After all, we’d gotten through middle school together, I’d helped her get her meat fix when her mom went vegan for three months last year, and she’d been at my side when my dad had gotten hurt from a rock climbing fall. Not to mention her ability to make me laugh when things looked grim. We hadn’t laughed together much lately, though.
Anna didn’t soften. Instead, she grabbed her backpack and jammed the strap over her shoulder. “I know your family has had it rough, but you barely even talk to me at school.” She shoved a lock of black hair out of her face. “So I thought, what’s the point of texting Olivia? It’s not like you’d answer.” She turned and stomped up the stairs.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” I started to pick up my backpack and follow her, but a voice from behind stopped me.
“Hello, Olivia.”
I winced. The morning was turning out to be really stellar. Turning around, I said, “Hi, Jack.”
“Is Anna okay?” Jack asked, his eyes showing concern. Typical Jack, the original nice guy. It was seriously annoying.
“She’s upset because Johnny Wise died over the weekend.” No way was I telling him about my fight with Anna.
Jack nodded. “Of course.” I suppressed a flare of irrational annoyance. Probably everyone at school except me knew about the musician’s death.
My gaze slid past Jack to meet Mindy’s eyes – Jack’s new girlfriend and my high school nemesis – normal, not supernormal version. She was not the original nice girl. In fact, she was the opposite of nice, and responsible for most of the gossip about me. It was too bad my personal life was good fodder for her. Even though no one at school knew about my secret life, they knew about Emma’s murder spree, which ended in an attempt to kill most of my family. The version of the story made up for normals was terrible enough. They all believed Emma had a psychotic break and decided the world was full of monsters and she had to protect herself from them. In that version, the official version, she was in a prison psych ward instead of a plain old prison for supernormals.
Mindy kept the gossip alive by frequently asking me about Emma in the most public places possible, thus keeping the memory of Emma’s crazed arrest photo alive in everyone’s mind. Never mind that photo was a fake, created by Aunt Kate to back up the psychotic break story. She also reminded people of the time I attacked her at school last fall, inferring I was one step away from my own psychotic episode. In my defense, she had provoked me before I’d attacked, but I still squirmed with shame over losing control.
As usual, Mindy gave me a superior smirk before tucking her hand into the crook of Jack’s arm. “Olivia, how are you holding up? Any news about your cousin?” She gave me a look of sugary sweet concern. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Everyone is just fine.” I bit my tongue to keep from asking about her brother who was in prison for murder. In fact, I was part of the reason he’d gone to prison, since I’d caught him robbing a bank. For some reason, people felt sorry for Mindy instead of scared. Of course, it helped that she hadn’t attacked anyone – at least not physically. Her attacks were all psychological.
She leaned into Jack’s arm. “Jack, we need to get to class.” He smiled at her as she led him away.
I sighed inwardly as they walked up the steps. Today was one of the days when I wished the Brighthalls didn’t try to mainstream us into the normal population as much as they did. Usually I agreed with the idea, but sometimes it would be nice if the Brighthalls weren’t so progressive. Some supernormals rarely got out into the world of normals, but my family’s mission, according to the Council, was to protect the world of both supernormals and normals. Which meant we had to mingle.
Kevin still went to Grover High, but I rarely saw him. He was ghost-like at school, attending classes but not talking, drifting through the halls between classes, and leaving immediately after his last period without waiting for me as he used to do. Today he was at home, recovering from his wounds. It was probably the first time he’d ever been out sick from school.
There was more awesomeness ahead. My first class was American History, which wasn’t bad, except Jack and Mindy were in it with me. I supposed I should count myself lucky Anna had Biology. However, I’d see her in Algebra later in the day.
Jack and Mindy entered the classroom first, and Mindy pulled him to their usual cozy spot near the back. I tried to do what I’d been doing all semester – pretend it didn’t bother me. At least I wasn’t tutoring Mindy in Bio anymore – Mindy’s mom wasn’t too keen on the cousin of a crazy murderer near her daughter.
I settled into my desk near the door as Mr. Gifford dove right into the lecture. I usually enjoyed American History, especially since Uncle Alex had me reading supernormal history and I knew what really caused the Boston Tea party, the topic Mr. Gifford was covering this week. While Mr. Gifford droned on about Johnny Tremaine, who was a supernormal with the ability to control water, I took several deep breaths, hoping to calm my mind. It didn’t help. I felt antsy, as if I hadn’t exercised in a few days and had an excess of energy.
Mr. Gifford paused to draw out a rough map of the Boston Harbor. In the relatively quiet classroom, under the murmuring and shuffling of trapped teenagers, I realized I was hearing voices. Again.
A shock went through me; it was the same, barely coherent voice from my waking nightmare Saturday morning. I closed my eyes as if that would help me tune in.
Mr. Gifford broke off his lecture. “Miss Woodson,” he said, using my normal family name, instead of my supernormal family name, which he didn’t know. “Are we interrupting nap time?”
My eyes flew open. “No.” I hunched in my seat. “I’m fine.” I heard snickering from Mindy’s part of the room. I gritted my teeth to keep from retorting.
Mr. Gifford started pointing out relevant areas on his map, but I barely heard. The voice was getting more insistent, but I still couldn’t make out the words. I stopped breathing when the words and images once again synchronized into a brief, coherent flash before dissipating altogether. Burned into my mind was the sight of a tall blonde woman running out of a large door, one I recognized from my visit last fall as the front door of Ley Prison, where Emma languished for murdering dozens of people. There were guards sprawled on the ground as if hit by a blast. Oddly, it felt like I was seeing the scene through someone else’s eyes. I glanced down and saw the hands weren’t mine – these fingers were long and graceful with gnawed-off fingernails – my fingers were short and curved, my fingernails neatly trimmed.
A large, stocky man ran past my vision host’s peripheral vision. Just before
the blonde woman disappeared out the door, she looked back, directly at me, and her mouth formed the words, “Emma, hurry up!”
Back in my own head, I gripped my hands together under my desk. Was I losing my mind? As Uncle Alex pointed out several times in his lessons, there were no psychic supernormals.
Twisting around my worry about my sanity was the question of telling my family about the waking dreams. After last fall, when they thought I was capable of raining devastation on several local landmarks, killing a dozen people in the process, I was hesitant to give them any reason to wonder about my stability. At least that’s what I told myself.
I glanced up, relieved to see no one seemed to have noticed my little interlude. Mr. Gifford droned on and my classmates listened or zoned out as per usual.
I made it through the rest of the day somehow, jumping at any whispered voices. It’s amazing how often people whisper to themselves or each other. Anna and I ignored each other in Algebra.
I was leaving school via a side door when I saw Anna sitting cross-legged on one of the picnic tables outside the cafeteria. She huddled over her phone, her shoulders bent against the breeze as she shivered. I took two steps towards her, stopped, and then started to walk away. I was tired and I didn’t feel like fighting, but something about her posture drew my eye back to her.
When she wiped her hand across her cheeks, I sighed and walked over to the table.
I shoved my handed in my pockets, already regretting my choice. “Hey.”
Anna jerked around, dropping her phone to the table. As she reached for the phone, I caught a glimpse of her tear-stained face. I asked, “What’s going on? Are you still upset over Johnny Wise’s death?” I suppressed the disloyal thought that she was being overly dramatic.
“What?” Anna frowned, pulling her black hoodie closed across her chest. “Oh yeah, sure, that’s what I’m upset about.” Her flat tone made it clear she was lying and not attempting to hide it.
“So what’s wrong?” I sat down next to her, but she scooted away.
“Like you care.” Anna focused on the cars driving by on SE 26th.
“That’s not fair.” Though it was sort of fair. I hadn’t been around for her much.
Anna jumped to her feet, standing on top of the picnic table, glaring down at me. “Shut up. Just shut up! You don’t give a damn about my life. All you care about are your stupid cousins. All I hear about is Zoe this, Kevin that.” She pointed her finger at me. “You don’t care that Brent broke up with me a week ago, or that my sister didn’t get into film school. No! All you want to do is wander around town with your weird cousins, wearing the worst clothes and moping about your family tragedy.”
I gaped at her, too astonished by my friend’s uncharacteristic tirade to be angered by her accusations. Resentment mingled with embarrassment while I searched for a response.
She stepped off the table to the bench, then to the ground and started to walk away. She’d gotten several feet away before I leapt from the table to stand in front of her. She reared back, surprised by my feat of jumping so far.
“Look, I’m so sorry about Brent. But you didn’t like him all that much. I mean, wasn’t he bugging you?” I was sure she’d told me he called her too often or something.
“That’s not the point. You should have been there if you cared.” Anna started to walk around me, but I held up my hands. She pushed past me anyway and I felt panic tightening my stomach. I didn’t want to lose my friend. I didn’t want to become a supernormal, like Uncle Dan or Emma, who barely interacted with normals..
“Anna, wait!” Her stride hitched, but she kept walking. My breath came in short gasps, afraid I’d really lost her. “Anna, you’re right; I’m not telling you everything.” She stopped but didn’t turn around. My head felt light and hollow as I said, “Come back and I’ll...,” I took a deep breath to calm the blood rushing through my ears, “tell you everything.”
Had I really just said I’d reveal my secret to a normal?
Anna turned around, hands on her hips. “Okay.”
I looked around. We were alone at the tables, and the closest people were the girls’ soccer team practicing on the fields.
“Come on.” I went back to the table and sat down. Clasping my hands on the table in front of me, I closed my eyes to gather my darting thoughts. When I opened them, Anna was still standing, her arms crossed and her hip cocked. She raised an eyebrow. I waved at the seat. “Sit down. I think you’ll need to.”
Her mouth gave a smirk, but she sat, arms still crossed. “, what’s the big secret?”
“Well…” I realized I didn’t know where to start. I even considered making up a story, but I was too tired to think of something believable. I sighed. “Okay, the truth is I’ve got powers, like superpowers, and so does everyone in my Mom’s family. I was born with them but didn’t use them after Mom died because she died using her powers and it scared me.” I took a wobbly breath. “So I didn’t use them until last year, at the bank robbery.” I put a hand on my stomach, remembering that day and how afraid I’d been. “And, once I used my abilities, it turns out I couldn’t stop, so I had to train with Mom’s family.” I met her eyes. “And then, all the stuff with Emma and Hugh,” I exhaled, “and Ben.” I stopped with my heart pounding. I wasn’t sure how to explain Emma’s role in the events of last fall.
Anna stared at me for a moment before standing up. She stood, shifting from foot to foot as if she was on the edge of leaving, but then she sat down heavily. Swallowing hard, she leveled her gaze at me and said, “Prove it.”
Despite the situation, me telling a normal my secret, and my tiredness and sadness, I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling at her challenge. Typical Anna. Keeping my eyes on hers, I held out my hand, palm up. Anna’s eyes widened at the flame flickering on my hand. I passed my other hand over the flame and Anna gaped at the ball of ice where the flame had been. She reached for it, then drew her hand back with a grimace.
“It’s okay. It’s just ice.” I gently set the ball of ice onto the table.
Anna poked at it carefully. “Wow, I mean, just…” With her eyes still on the ice slowly melting on the table, she grinned.
I sat back, astonished by her reaction. I expected disbelief or anger or, well, anything other than belief.
She raised her gaze to mine, still smiling. “So can all of your Mom’s family do this?”
“Fire and ice?” I shook my head, feeling a little dazed by how well Anna was taking the news. “No, supernormals – that’s what we’re called – have all kinds of different abilities. Everyone can run really fast, is really strong, that type of thing. Zoe calls it the basic package.” Realizing I was garbling the description, I took a breath and let it out slowly. “How is it you’re okay with this?” I blurted out.
Anna rolled her hand over the shrinking ball of ice, leaving a trail of water while she considered her response. “I knew something was different about you. You’re more, I don’t know, physical. And you sometimes have bruises one day that are gone the next day.” She looked uncomfortable. “I thought you were dating someone who was hurting you, but I asked Kevin and he said you weren’t.” Her expression turned defiant. “I mostly believed him, but I was still worried. I tried following you, but I kept losing you. I’m guessing that’s because you can run really fast.”
“Yeah.” I was amazed at her explanation. “I didn’t know you were so worried about me.” I felt guilty for being so self-involved I didn’t even notice my best friend freaking out over my behavior. Subtle signs bubbled up in my memory. “Wait, is that why you did your oral report on abused women a few weeks ago in Speech?” She nodded as I continued. “And why you wanted me to volunteer with you at the women’s shelter before Christmas?” I hadn’t joined her because the ‘rents had taken us on a retreat to the family mountain house near Hood River.
“I had a strategy, obviously an unnecessary one, but, you know.” Anna shrugged with a sheepish grin.
I squirmed a bit in my seat, aware that Anna was a better friend to me than I’d been to her. “Thank you, and I’m sorry.”
She planted her arms on the table and leaned forward. “So what else can you do? How fast can you run? Do you have to wear a special suit?”
“What? Why would I have to wear a special suit?” Visions of fitted bodices and tights cavorted through my mind.
Anna laughed at my expression. “Not like in the comics. I meant, because you burn stuff. What about your clothes?” She waved a hand at my jeans and Henley top. “Not that it wouldn’t be a bad thing to burn your entire wardrobe.” I rolled my eyes at her ongoing sneer over my lack of fashion sense, “but it might be hard to explain why your shirt has burn holes in it.”
Back when I first manifested my significant ability, I’d asked Uncle Dan the same question. No matter how many times I let my flame wash over my body, my clothes, hair, and nails didn’t burn; they didn’t even singe. “Well, it works like this. There’s a sort of, I guess you could call it a force field, around my body that protects me from the fire and ice.” I let the fire come to my hand and run up my arm to envelop my head in flames. Through the curtain of fire over my eyes, I watched Anna’s mouth drop open. “See how the flame doesn’t quite touch my body?”
Anna reached out, touching my arm before I realized what she was doing. She jerked back, sticking her burned finger in her mouth with chagrined expression. I let my flames fade out. “You okay?” She nodded. I said, “If Uncle Alex were here, he could heal you. He’s an empathic healer.”
“Why isn’t he here?” Anna examined her finger and I was relieved to see it wasn’t a bad burn.
“It gets to be too much for him sometimes, and he has to go away.”
“Well, I’m okay.” She smiled at me. “So show me what else you can do.”
“Um…” I hesitated and then saw the time. “Oh no, I really have go.” I stood up. “I’m sorry, but if I don’t show up in time for training, Uncle Dan will be kind of a jerk about it.”
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