by A. E. Clarke
I gave him an obviously fake brilliant grin, and he laughed. The rest of dinner was all but silent, though.
#
I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and stumbled out into the hall without bothering with clothes.
I was definitely not expecting to bump into my sister, and I was not amused to do so in the nude. I was awake enough, at least, to cover up my crotch as she rounded the corner, but it was still incredibly awkward.
“Uh, hey, Jesse.” She at least had the decency to lift a hand to block off my lower body, even if it was three a.m.
“Hi…uh, Holly. How the hell are you not—shouldn’t you be in the hospital? For, y’know, the entire night?” I could feel the blush creeping up my neck.
“I’m feeling fine and haven’t had painkillers in barely the right length of time for them to classify me as all better.”
“Really? That’s what they need?”
“No, but I was told that’s part of it. They need the doctor’s say-so, I think, but he told me that was what would get me his approval to go home. Poor bastard’s pulling a really late shift, I think, so we talked—”
“Listen, this is fascinating, I swear, but really. Holly. Go get some sleep or something, and we can talk about this tomorrow when I’m not standing here naked, okay?”
I winced as I realized what she was probably going to say. Don’t suggest going to my room.
“Well, we could go back to your room and hang out for a bit, if you’re up anyway.”
“I…uh.” Nope. “No, that’s okay, sis.”
“Sis?” She raised an eyebrow.
Of course you’d pick up on that. “I’m half-asleep, and, uh…”
“So I was right—you have a girl over!”
Okay, she used a specific gender. I don’t want to have this conversation right here, right now, and definitely not while I’m naked and Brent’s right there and is probably naked too, and why did you have to come home right now?!
“I’ve…got someone over, yeah.”
“Awesome. Okay, just…wanted to see if my gut was right.”
I blinked. Oh, probably not.
“Sure.”
She leaned over towards my bedroom and gave me an exaggerated wink.
I just died a little. Lord, please never do that again.
“I’ll leave you two alone for the night, then. I’ll be out of your hair in a couple hours!”
I nodded and waited for her to get to her room before I slipped back into mine, still lit only by candles, and sighed. “That was close. And more than a little mortifying.”
“She didn’t see me, did she?” Brent had gone a moment before, though he’d been smart enough—or lucky enough—to be wearing pants. His face was ghostly white, and I could feel my heart hammering as I shook my head, trying to fake calm.
“Nah, I don’t think so. She would have said something.”
Still, it took a while for either of us to relax again. We cuddled silently, both of us staring at the ceiling until our heart rates could go back down enough to sleep.
Chapter Five: Holly
I left work early the next day. It wasn’t because of pain or anything—there really wasn’t much of that at all. Things just kept acting weirdly around me.
Right off the bat, the oven refused to turn on, and then I moved a couple steps away. Though no one else would admit to having seen it, I swear I saw a blue line of electricity going from my shoe to the wall—and then it worked fine.
Five minutes later, I opened it up, and as soon as I touched the metal handle for the door, the oven’s temperature suddenly shot off the charts. And I mean that literally: it went too high for the oven’s temperature gauge to read properly, and it goes to six hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Our bread, of course, was ruined, and we had to start a new batch.
My supervisor was convinced I had somehow hit something, until I asked him how he could possibly duplicate what I had supposedly done to throw it above the possible limit. I was put on the cash register after that, and…well, we have these electronic cash registers at work, and by that point, I knew I could see the occasional spark playing around my hands.
It was weird. I went to the bathroom the first time I saw it, and I looked at my face. I had my hair up, but there were some flyaways, and they weren’t standing on end like I would have expected if I was being electrocuted or was somehow covered in static electricity. My eyes weren’t bloodshot, and the pupils looked normal, so I wasn’t still high from the painkillers. I wasn’t dreaming, as a smack to the face proved, bringing tears to my eyes.
But when I looked down at my hands, I could still see the little blue arcs jump out of my skin every once in a while.
I concentrated on them, trying to slow my breathing, and as it slowed, they stayed—until I started thinking at them to go away, and then they stopped all at once.
What?
I held my hand up to my face and turned it back and forth a couple times. Gus banged on the door behind me, asking if I’d fallen in or something, and I told him to give me a minute, I’d be out in a sec.
Come back. Uhhh, spark.
I watched as first one, then two, then a few more came out to jump around. I pointed with my finger, and they mostly played around it instead of the whole hand.
I made a few cheesy gun motions, amusing myself with how childish it was, but I’d just discovered I had a superpower! A little immaturity was definitely in order.
I made one more finger gun, pointing it at my reflection in the mirror and marvelling a little at the fact that I could see electricity playing around my hairline and neck as well, though for some reason it didn’t seem to be visible on my face. Making a shooting motion, I whispered pew! and squinted for better aim.
I wasn’t expecting the tiny bolt of electricity to crackle through the air and hit the glass. I cursed when I realized what I’d done and then chuckled nervously, wiping off the glass. There was a tiny black spot where I’d burnt it, but it was far from ruined, thankfully. Honestly, knowing Gus, he probably wouldn’t even notice for a while, and it’s not like he would have been able to guess what happened or who did it.
I finished wiping it off as best I could and opened the door, trying not to let any electricity show on my face or arms while feeling it play underneath my clothes.
It was a little weird, but when I realized what was happening and that I could control it, I really wanted to be able to have my “superpower” going at all times.
I had no idea if I’d even be able to do that and hide what was happening, but I was pretty sure Gus would put anything he did see down to hallucinations, since…well, I mean, who accepts the fact that they can see electricity on their employee’s hands? That’s crazy talk!
I confidently strolled over to the cash register, where there was someone waiting to buy a few loaves of bread. I gave her a cheery hello, pressed the first button…and the cash register shut down.
I scowled at it and pressed the button a couple more times, trying to slow my heartbeat and suck the electricity back into my skin.
That’s not the best way of putting it—it definitely isn’t the most scientifically accurate—but it was how it felt, like I was sucking it back into me, as natural as sticking out my tongue and then retracting it. At the very least, it felt as easy as that, once I realized it was entirely mental.
“Sorry about this. Let me just check the plug. I must have kicked it accidentally…” I flashed her a smile and bent down to check the plug in the floor under the counter. Seeing it firmly in the socket, I had an idea.
Hoping I was right about what was going on, I pulled out the plug and pointed my finger at it, whispering pew! again, making the childish shooting motion.
I really hoped that wouldn’t be the only way I’d be able to use my powers—or whatever you wanted to call what I was somehow able to do—but I was really glad I’d played around in the bathroom, as a spark shot out and hit the three prongs of the plug and arced int
o the ground. I plugged it back in and immediately felt the energy running through the cord in my hand.
Above me, the cash register whirred back to life, and I stood up again, the most irritatingly large grin I could muster plastered on my face.
“There we go! Just give it a minute to turn back on, and…” I finished the order and then let myself slump a little bit.
As much as that was pretty awesome, it was tiring as all hell.
I really needed either an energy drink or a nap at this point, and I didn’t think Gus would let me do either unless I told him I was sick. I walked into the bathroom to stall and try to figure this out.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. While I wasn’t exactly a sheet of paper, I was pretty pale, a little more than usual. I could probably manage to pass off being sick.
Or…
I looked at my torso. There wasn’t as much of a mark as there was the night before, but I could still make out the outline of the once-nasty burn.
If I told him that the only way I was currently able to work was by taking painkillers, which were wearing off, and I’d tried to come into work but couldn’t actually handle it so soon after the accident, then…
He’d have to let me go home, right?
And, y’know, if he doesn’t, I can just leave. How could he stop me anyway, with these powers? I snickered to myself and held up my hand. A spark jumped from my index to middle finger, and I chuckled quietly as I stepped out of the bathroom.
Gus was sitting right outside, and he did not look pleased. He’d brought over two chairs and gestured to the one he wasn’t using.
Well, this isn’t good.
“Sit down, Holly.”
I sat. “What’s up, Gus?”
“I wanted to know what’s up with you this morning.”
“Huh? I’ve…I’ve been a bit out of it, but—”
“Well, there was the thing with the oven…”
“I still don’t know what happened. That didn’t even make sense—”
“And then the mess-up with the cash register that you somehow knew how to fix right away, right on the spot. That didn’t even make sense either.” He said the last bit in a mocking tone, and my mouth snapped shut for a second while I figured out how to respond.
“I’m not sure what happened. I figured that the plug might have been loose, and it was.”
“Holly, the plug’s never even touched.” He leaned over, raising an eyebrow.
“It can be kicked,” I mumbled.
“Can you stay a little later than usual today, so that we can catch up because of all your—” he paused, a corner of his mouth creeping up “—problems?”
“I was actually going to ask to go home early, to be honest.”
“And why am I going to let you go home early after this morning?”
“I…uh, I was in a pretty bad accident yesterday, and I’m still not feeling in top form exactly.”
“Accident? Car accident?”
“Uhh.” Um. Should I explain it?
He raised an eyebrow again as the silence stretched, and I closed my eyes and shook my head.
I guess I should…but not the long version. “I was caught in…uh, an explosion, I guess. I don’t know, I don’t actually remember anything of it, but I’ve got a big burn here.” I motioned to the area of the burn with my hand and started lifting up my shirt to show him, though I was relieved when he went bright red, shook his head and waved his hand to stop me. It wasn’t like I needed to lift my shirt very far to show him the burn, but it would have been awkward for the both of us. The burn was still obvious, but it definitely didn’t look bad enough that I’d need to go home to rest.
“No, no need to do that. I believe you, don’t worry.”
“Honestly, I just got out of the hospital…” I looked at my watch.
Oh, that was why he was worried. I was in there for almost forty-five minutes for my “breather.” It felt like five. How the hell…
“Oh, wow. Uh, I was out of the hospital…it’s seven, so I was released about five hours ago or so? I’m running on being knocked out by an explosion, really.”
“So that explains why you’ve been acting weirdly. Why didn’t you just say something?”
Because that’s not the real reason I’m asking to go home, but I don’t want to tell you that I’m a superhero? Or, at least, that I have superpowers.
The hero part will come later, I guess.
I shrugged like I was embarrassed. “I dunno. I’m still worried you’ll treat me differently because I’m a woman and a baker? Like…I wanted to prove to myself that even with a giant burn on my side, I could still—”
“So basically, you were being kind of stupid.” He was joking.
“I guess.” I pushed away my annoyance. He wasn’t too bad as far as sexism in the workplace went, but I was still the only one he told to “get back in the kitchen.”
“Okay, well, grab your stuff, and you can go home—once you’ve signed something saying you weren’t injured on the job.”
I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged.
“I trust you, and I figure you would have documentation from the hospital if I was completely wrong about you, but I want to cover my ass, y’know? Proper procedure and all that. I don’t want to have to worry. I’ll be in my office with the printout when you’re ready to head out.”
He stood and lumbered towards his office. I sighed a little and continued towards the back of the store to gather my things.
I wasn’t sure exactly what the hell was happening in my life between last night and this morning, but I smiled to myself as I pulled on my fall jacket and took out my cell to let Jesse know I was headed home early.
Okay, so life was hectic and unexpected, but apparently, that wasn’t always a bad thing.
I can deal with having been in an explosion if this is what I get from it.
I’m a fucking superhero.
Chapter Six: Jesse
I sat in English class the next morning, yawning and nursing a cup of coffee.
“Okay, today we’ll be starting our unit on Fifth Business, so if you could come up row by row to sign out your copies…”
Our teacher’s explanation of the same procedure used in every class a half dozen times per year washed over me, and I closed my eyes to doze…until I felt a buzz in my pocket. I flipped open my cellphone, smiling when I saw “Brent Wang” on my screen. I resisted the urge to look across the classroom at him, worried that I’d eventually do it too often to hide the emotion on my face.
As far as everyone else knew, we were just football teammates. We had been talking about our relationship since we were a week or so into it, and we were still trying to figure out where we stood as far as coming out as a couple.
I flipped to the bottom of my texts, ignoring the unread one at the top for now. I was looking for the oldest text in there—the first text I had sent to him.
~ You can be my secret boyfriend. The football jocks would kill us if they caught us playing tonsil hockey.
I smiled again and then realized that I was supposed to be getting up and signing out my book. Brent brushed into me as we walked past each other, and I turned to look at him—or, more specifically, look at his ass since he was turned around, though I tried not to stare too long or too hard.
I signed out my book, sat, and flipped my phone open to the unread message.
~ So. Hat trick tonight??
A “hat trick” for us was three days in a row of being together. Since that first text, we’d stuck to vague hockey euphemisms for pretty much everything in our relationship—we knew it was lame, but it amused us, and I practically melted whenever we’d say something intimate that sounded innocuous to anyone who might overhear.
I hit reply, but it buzzed before I could start typing. I switched back to read what he’d sent.
~ can we talk after class?
Of course
I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but he was usually m
ore graceful about changing topics. He was steadfastly staring at the teacher, though, so I sighed and let it stew until the end of the period.
As the bell rang, he appeared next to my desk, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other.
I raised my eyebrow. “Should I be more worried than I am?”
“I dunno. Ready?” He averted his eyes.
I shook my head, my worry escalating, and slung my bag over my shoulder. “Okay, let’s head out. Starbucks run?”
“Can we walk there? Wanna talk about something.”
“Clearly.” I felt a bit sick—it was extending the length of the walk by half to go to Starbucks first, and usually we’d take the bus—but nodded. “Sure, I guess.” I smiled, holding back what I felt, hoping it would help Brent calm down. He was pretty agitated.
We walked out of the building in silence, and whenever I stole a look, he hurriedly looked the other way. By the time we hit the intersection and got away from the mass of students without a word, I was almost sure this was The Talk.
“So you said you wanted to talk, right? I hear that uses sound these days,” I said.
He chuckled nervously. “You’re not gonna like this.”
Let me guess—we can still be friends? I closed my eyes, breathing in slowly to calm myself. “What am I not gonna like?”
“Alex is cheating on Holly.”
I choked on the breath I’d sucked in. When I eventually stopped coughing, I said, “He—what? How do you know?”
“Scott’s his best friend. Or, uh, was, I guess. I have no idea what’s up with them anymore.”
“Your brother told you?”
“No.”
I waited a second for an elaboration. “So, then…”
“I heard him complaining to Lily, his, uh…” He went pink around the ears. “His ‘friend with benefits.’ She’s been spending the night at Alex’s a bunch to work on projects.”
“Oh. Well…well, shit. Holly’s going to flip.”
“No—you can’t tell her. Not…not yet.”
“I can’t not tell her.”
“Scott will kill me!”