Super Powereds: Year 1

by Drew Hayes

  Maybe that was why she had missed it; she’d eventually stopped looking after weeks of seeing no double faces. No, that wasn’t it. Blaming her lax observations didn’t give enough credit where it was due. Sure, she’d stopped trying to see though people, but even if she’d been on top of her game all the time Alice was certain Nick still would have slipped by her.

  He’d always been the same guy. Smarting off, acting up, making stupid comments and organizing waste-of-time events. Even the stupid glasses were just him wanting to be noticed. Yet tonight, he’d taken them off and effortlessly been someone else. Someone charming, smart, sophisticated, and amiable. There had been no trace of the old Nick, from the way he moved to something as simple as opening a car door. Everything he did had suited this new persona of his. Had she met him for the first time tonight, she would have never imagined the version she’d known for the last several months could exist.

  So now, Alice was laying in her bed staring up at the ceiling, unable to find sleep. Was she that much worse at seeing through people than she thought, or was Nick that much better than she was? Either way, it was curious. Under any other circumstance she would have banged on Mary’s door to compare notes and try and put things together. It didn’t feel quite right, though, not when he had shown Alice this part of himself in order to help her. She wouldn’t go around stirring up trouble for him in response to his kindness. She would keep her curiosity and observations to herself.

  One thing was certain, though: Alice was definitely paying attention again.

  98.

  “Thank you again for taking the time out of your lives to come and visit us here at Lander University,” Dean Blaine said, circling the group back to the lifts where they had entered an hour and a half ago. “This concludes our tour of the facility, and I hope you all now have a greater understanding and appreciation for the education being taught to your children.”

  The tour had gone off pretty well; they almost always did. The gyms were closed, no classes were held, and every non-freshmen student had their ability to use the lifts disconnected for two hours when the parents were wandering around. It was always officially billed as “technical difficulties”. The older students, however, had long ago reached the obvious conclusion: nobody wanted a problem to occur when outsiders were around.

  This crop had been well-behaved, and Dean Blaine was letting out mental sighs of relief that he would soon be passing the buck to George and Persephone.

  “Now, we’ve reserved a dining hall just for you folks today where you can eat with Coach George and Coach Persephone,” Dean Blaine explained. “You can talk with them about your children or just relax and meet the other parents. The whole area will be secure, so there’s no need to worry about spilling the beans on any student’s secret identity, though I would remind you that outside of there and here, utilizing the utmost discretion is advised.”

  The parents nodded appreciatively and began filing toward the elevators. As they moved past, Dean Blaine made an effort to see which group of adults was with which student. A dean should be able to recognize his charges’ families, after all.

  It was clear not all of the students had come, though more had turned out than usual. Dean Blaine noticed Shane DeSoto walking to lifts with his older sister and their parents, as well as an older gentleman. There was something slightly familiar about the older man, but Dean Blaine couldn’t place it before he was out of sight. It seemed Roy Daniels was here with his mother, a dowdy woman with a persistent smile. Looking at her, it was hard to believe she’d raised a child as rambunctious as Roy, though it explained quite a bit about Hershel. Sasha Foster had both parents with her: a middle-aged couple that had been particularly wide-eyed during the tour.

  “Blaine,” said a soft, familiar voice next to him, stealing him from his thoughts.

  “Miriam,” Dean Blaine said warmly. “I was hoping you’d stop to chat before you left.” He clasped the woman’s hand briefly and squeezed, only for a moment.

  Miriam was middle-aged and holding up well under her years. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and tan skin from a life spent living near the ocean.

  “Of course,” she said, returning the smile Dean Blaine hadn’t realized he was giving. “I know we can talk to the coaches, but I wanted to speak with you directly and see how things were going.”

  Dean Blaine glanced at the platforms carrying parents and students back to the surface. It was slowly thinning the crowd. There were clearly several trips left, though.

  “I’d love to, Miriam. This is probably not the best place, though. Would you like to join me at my office?”

  “That would be fine. Thank you, Blaine.”

  “Will he be all right?” Dean Blaine asked.

  “Certainly. I’ll let him know I’d be meeting him a bit later for lunch,” Miriam assured the dean.

  “Excellent, well then, let us away,” Dean Blaine told her.

  The trip was short. Dean Blaine’s office was relatively close to the lifts, just in case he needed to get out in a hurry. That feature seemed to smack more of the “abandon ship” mentality than Blaine preferred, but he hadn’t been around when they designed the place and it would be an enormous hassle to fix now.

  They entered the office door and Dean Blaine poured them both a drink. He already knew how Miriam took her scotch, so he didn’t bother asking. Many things about people might change as the years wear on; however, that feature seemed to remain constant.

  “Thank you,” Miriam said, accepting the glass. She glanced inside. “Halfway full with three cubes. Impressive.”

  “The important things tend to stick in my head,” Dean Blaine said as he settled into his high-backed leather chair. “So, tell me how you’ve been.”

  “As good as can be expected,” she said. “I went back to school and got my nursing degree a few years back. Now that I’m alone in the house I’m thinking about downgrading to a condo. I haven’t told my son yet. I’m not sure how he’d take his childhood home being swept out from under him.”

  Dean Blaine smirked. “You managed to steer us on topic remarkably quickly. Okay, let’s talk about your son.” He reached into his desk drawer and rummaged around briefly. Within a few minutes he extracted a manila envelope. Dean Blaine set it on the table and skimmed the contents. He already knew most of them off the top of head.

  “Chad Taylor,” Dean Blaine said, reading off the front page. “Currently ranked top of his class in combat. Tested exceptionally well during the first semester finals. Expected to easily stay at the top of the class when the next trials are held at year’s end. As for above ground, he’s pulling straight A’s. All in all, he’s a model student.”

  “I knew all of that, Blaine,” Miriam said. “I was more talking about how he’s adjusting to being here. You know, seeing his father’s alma mater, walking the same halls, taking the same classes. I wasn’t sure how he’d acclimate.”

  “I think he’s doing fine,” Dean Blaine assured her.

  “Define ‘doing fine’ for me, please. Does he have any friends?”

  “Certainly; he spends most of his time with Shane DeSoto and Michael Clark,” Dean Blaine said.

  “I see. And what are the ranks of these boys?” Miriam asked.

  “Um... well, two and three, respectively.”

  “So he has training partners,” Miriam assessed with a sigh. “I suppose asking about a girlfriend is out of the question, then.”

  “To my knowledge he hasn’t become intimate with any of the female students yet,” Dean Blaine admitted.

  “How about male? I’ll take what I can get here.”

  “Miriam...”

  “Oh, I know, I know,” she said. “It’s just frustrating. He’s such a good boy, yet all he does is think about training and getting stronger and being like his dad. You know he didn’t apply to any other schools? Only Lander.”

  “We do have a very prestigious reputation.”

  “Come on, Blaine, Lander is great but
the other four schools give out Hero Certifications just as valid as yours. Everyone hedges their bets.”

  “Perhaps Chad simply knew he would be able to take his pick,” Dean Blaine suggested.

  Miriam shook her head. “No, it was because he wanted to go to the same place. If you’d turned him down he would have just kept applying, year after year until you let him in. He is stubborn as a drunken mule.”

  “I suppose that makes his path toward emulating his father at least a little bit shorter then,” Dean Blaine said.

  Miriam let out a short, barking laugh. “You may have a point at that.” She set her glass down and glanced at her watch. “I really should be getting to that lunch now.”

  “Of course. I’ve got some things to do as well,” Dean Blaine said, shuffling papers that were previously arranged quite correctly.

  “I appreciate you humoring me checking up on him,” Miriam Taylor said, rising from her seat. “I just worry. You know how it is.”

  “Indeed I do,” Dean Blaine agreed.

  “I hope to see you again before I leave. If not, at least you’ll be coming around for Easter.”

  “About that,” Dean Blaine said haltingly. “Now that I’m an authority figure over your son, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Nonsense,” Miriam said. “You got off the winter holidays with that excuse and I’ve been kicking myself for letting you ever since. You’ll come to Easter at our house in a few months and you’ll bring your famous chocolate pies. Not one argument about it.”

  Dean Blaine contemplated protesting, then thought better of it. “You win as usual, Miriam. Have fun at lunch.”

  Miriam wrinkled her nose. “Blaine, have you forgotten I went to Lander too? I know what to expect from the food.”

  99.

  “This is certainly... colorful cuisine they serve,” Mrs. Daniels said, working her way through the plate. “Do you happen to know if anyone horribly offended the cooks in some way?”

  “Nope, that’s just dorm food,” Roy said. “We don’t have to eat here, though; we can go anywhere you want.”

  “Don’t be silly, this is fine,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Besides, I want to talk to your coach and see how things are going.”

  “There’s no need, they’re going great.”

  “Then you must be anxious to hear him tell me that himself,” Mrs. Daniels said knowingly. “It looks like the crowd is thinning out. You stay here while I go speak with him.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Roy said. He stayed put as his mother got up and stood in line with the other parents. His stomach twisted a bit. Yeah, he’d been able to keep up with the poundings Chad had been delivering for the past few weeks, but he still hadn’t gotten a hit off yet. That had to reflect badly on his overall performance. Not to mention that fact that he’d only participated in one challenge battle last semester and had gotten his ass kicked. Sure, his grades had been all A’s; but that had been all Hershel’s doing. Much as he would deny it if anyone asked, Roy wanted to make his mother proud, too. Now he had to trust in a progress report that would be delivered by Coach George of all people: the man who seemed least impressed by Roy’s substantial abilities out of anyone. This was going to be a bad day.

  * * *

  “Mrs. Daniels,” Coach George greeted, shaking her hand carefully. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “You too, Mr. George, but how did you know who I was?”

  “Just George is fine, and I make it a point to know the names and faces of all of my students’ parents,” Coach George explained. “In case one of them tries to jump me.”

  “That seems a bit paranoid,” Mrs. Daniels said.

  “It would be paranoid if I was doing it before any such situation had occurred. After that it’s called learning,” Coach George countered.

  “I... see. At any rate, if you know who I am then you know who I’m asking about. How is Roy doing in class?”

  “How can I put this?” Coach George said, pressing his thumb to his jaw as he pondered. “Your son is arrogant, pig-headed, vastly overestimates his abilities, and spends too much time chasing tail instead of training. I’ve been expecting him to wash out since the first week, and at the beginning of this semester I even put him up against the strongest kid in the class to see if he would flush down the drain once and for all.”

  “I’m not sure how to-” Mrs. Daniels began. Coach George cut her off with a quick raise of his finger.

  “But, he is also incredibly resilient, unrelentingly determined, and has shown a tremendous amount of humility in accepting lessons from those who have proven themselves his better. When I challenged the combat class to take me on, he was the first one to step up, and that takes some courage. He’s been getting the stuffing knocked out of him five days a week since the spring semester began and every day he shows up asking for more, and he does it because he understands that each day makes him a little bit better.”

  “So what are you trying to say here?” Mrs. Daniels asked.

  “I’m saying your boy has plenty of flaws, and very well might not make it all the way to being a Hero because of them. He also has steel in his spine, fire in his gut, and balls the size of watermelons. Those might take him to the top. Honestly, it’s just like the rest of this program: it will depend on the work he puts in,” Coach George explained.

  “Thank you, George,” Mrs. Daniels said. “That was enlightening.”

  “Glad to keep you in the loop,” Coach George said with a smile.

  “It was appreciated,” Mrs. Daniels said, turning to leave. “Have a nice day. I hope none of the parents jump you.”

  “That will be seen,” Coach George said. “Not everyone got such kind reviews of their kids as you.”

  * * *

  Roy’s nervous waiting came to an end as he saw his mother leave Coach George’s side. He clamored to his feet as she walked back over.

  “What’d he say?” Roy asked, poorly hiding the nerves in his voice.

  “About what I expected,” Mrs. Daniels replied. “That you’re good, but if you want to be the best you still have a long road ahead of you. Although he said it in an exceptionally vulgar way.”

  “Yeah. That’s Coach George,” Roy said.

  “He also mentioned you seemed to be dating a lot of nice young girls. Do I get to meet any of them today?”

  Roy, yes, Roy Daniels, blushed. “Nah, Mom, it’s nothing like that. I just have a lot of female friends.”

  “Mmmhmm. If that’s what you want to go with...” Mrs. Daniels said.

  “It really is.”

  “...then I suppose we can skip over it for now. Besides, I think we’re done here. Now, how about you show me the town?”

  Roy let a big grin break across his face. “It would be my pleasure.”

  100.

  “That bad, huh?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah. I spilled my tea, accidently tripped the waiter, and briefly set the table on fire when I knocked over the centerpiece candle,” Vince said. “So her family is not all that fond of me.”

  “I never thought of you as all that klutzy,” Nick said.

  Vince shrugged. “I’m not normally, but I was so nervous about meeting my girlfriend’s parents for the first time I just got flustered.”

  Nick and Vince sat in the common room, the Sunday afternoon light shining on them through the windows. All the parents but Hershel’s had departed; he was saying goodbye to her in the parking lot currently. Alice was catching up on homework in her room and Mary sat in a chair nearby, reading.

  “You’re still a nice guy, though,” Nick pointed out. “I’m sure her parents were just glad she was spending time with a quality fellow.”

  “They kept mentioning a nice young Super her uncle knew with coordination and exceptional powers. They were adamant she meet up with him for coffee next time she is in town.”

  “Wow, they are not fans of fumbling,” Nick said.

  “Yeah. Apparently they’re all about powerful S
upers good enough to breed with their daughter. Weird thing, though, as bad as last night went, Sasha was exceptionally affectionate when we kissed goodnight later on,” Vince said.

  “You really are clueless, buddy. Think real hard about why a girl with dyed-pink hair might actually be happy to find out the guy she’s with was not well-liked by her parents. When you come up with a theory, get back to me,” Nick instructed him.

  “I don’t see why the hair is important, but okay,” Vince agreed.

  The sound of the front door opening interrupted them as Hershel walked in.

  “See your mom off?” Vince asked.

  “Yup,” Hershel confirmed. “It was nice to see her, but it’s sort of weird having her around in this environment.”

  “Tell me about it,” Nick agreed. “Gerry’s a good guy, but he was all sorts of cramping my style. Didn’t want to hit strip clubs or cock fights or anything.”

  “The visits all passed without any terrible incidents or blown secret identities, so I think we can chalk this weekend up as a win,” Hershel said.

  “I’d wait to hear Vince’s story about dinner with Sasha’s parents before I made that statement,” Nick said.

  “Bad?” Hershel asked.

  “I’m seventy percent sure they tried to sneak out and ditch me when I went to the bathroom,” Vince said.

  “That’s pretty bad,” Hershel surmised.

  “What about you? Roy didn’t get your mom into a biker brawl or tossed in jail or something?” Nick asked.

  Hershel laughed. “Roy? Roy loves our mother. They spent the afternoon touring little niche shops downtown. He’s a model son when she’s around.”

  “Huh, and there you go,” Nick said. “Well fellows, we only have a little bit of weekend left. Anyone up for video games in the boys’ lounge?”

  “Normally I’d say no, but with everyone gone I was able to catch up on my all homework already, so why not?” Vince agreed.