Maybe Victor could help me out somehow…
He hated thinking about the day she walked out of his life because it reminded him of how powerless and betrayed he felt. Though she promised to visit him, she never returned and eventually he stopped waiting for her. His father made sure to disown her repeatedly for months after her emotional departure, constantly reminding Blake how important it was for family to stick together no matter what. Blake decided she was a coward and that he would never walk out on his parents like his sister did. As such, he resented Elizabeth and held her accountable for his miserable, lonely life at home. His only escape from the deepening Hargreaves hell was Quinn and his dads, who always welcomed him with open arms and showed him compassion and kindness without pity or condescension.
“No, stop!” a female voice shouted.
Pulled from his thoughts, Blake looked around and saw no one. He stopped walking and listened.
A woman screamed. “I said stop!”
“Shut the fuck up, little bitch!” a man yelled.
He turned his head toward the sound but saw nothing. Then he realized his super hearing had tipped him off to a woman in distress somewhere in the area.
She screamed again.
A man laughed, but it wasn’t jovial; it was menacing.
“Shut up, bitch,” another male voice said. “We don’t want to wake the entire neighborhood.”
They’re in the baseball field.
He turned and ran—fast—but his unexpected super speed caused him to overshoot the mark. He stopped in the middle of the Hislop Park outfield.
He looked around and listened. The sound of a woman struggling for her life caught his ear and his eyes focused on three people in one of the dugouts. He felt himself becoming angry has he stormed toward them.
“Hey!” he yelled, getting their attention, the adrenaline rush thrilling him beyond all measure.
“What the heck?” one of the men yelled, startled by Blake’s voice. They turned to face him, then laughed. “It’s just a kid.”
“Oh,” the other said, grimacing. “Beat it, kid, or we’ll have our way with you next, only it won’t be as fun, I promise you that.”
“Leave her alone!” Blake shouted. He felt the power in his eyes come to life.
“Holy crap!” one of them shouted at the sight of Blake’s glowing eyes.
The men tried to regain their composure, but Blake was on them before they knew it. With hands hot with fury, he grabbed the shorter man and threw him halfway across the baseball field.
Blake turned to watch the man scream and fly, stunned at what he had just done. Holy crap, did I just do that?
“You little shit!” the other man yelled.
Blake grunted when he felt a sharp pinch at his left side. Blake turned and saw a knife in the man’s hand. Knowing the knife had not pierced him, Blake turned back and glared at the man, whose faced widened with horror. Blake noted his orange and purple reflection in the man’s fearful eyes.
Blake grabbed the man’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the man’s collar bone and shoulder muscles. The man screamed at the burning heat emanating from Blake’s hands. Then, Blake took a deep breath and yelled as he threw the man after his friend. He flew through the air and landed with a grunt, frantically thrashing around until he was back on his feet. The men screamed with terror, tripping over themselves as they ran away in the direction of the oil storage tanks on the other side of the Piscataqua River Bridge.
“Are you all right?” Blake asked in a low voice, making sure his eyes continued to glow to hide his face.
“Y…yes,” the woman stammered.
“Go home. Don’t say anything about what you saw. They won’t be bothering you tonight.” Blake turned to walk away.
“What are you?”
“I’m nothing and no one,” he answered. “Keep it that way.”
Then, he turned himself invisible and disappeared from view. Using his super speed, he ran back to his street,
Now, I know how I want to bring justice to people. If that woman wasn’t watching…I would have burned them alive for what they were about to do to her…next time, maybe I won’t care to stop…
3 | Forks in the Road
Quinn
QUINN TOOK A DEEP BREATH. Things were going well that day, especially after Mr. St. Germain had agreed to step up his mentoring and create the world’s first ever Superhero Responsibilities Manifesto, borrowing from what he could find on the Internet and adapting it to suit their needs.
“Come on, you can do it,” Ravone said.
“I know but he just makes me so…” Quinn said.
“Weak-in-the-knees?” Loren quipped. “We know. Go ask him out. It’s just a date.”
“It’s not just a date, Loren,” Quinn exclaimed, realizing he meant to whisper that phrase. He lowered his voice. “It’s potentially my first date and that’s a very big deal to me!”
“We know!” Blake, Ravone, and Loren said together.
“Now go!” Blake ordered, pushing Quinn forward.
“All right, all right,” Quinn responded, nervously chuckling as he surrendered to his friends’ encouragement.
Quinn stood and walked across the library, eyes glued to the dirty-blonde hair on the back of Keegan’s head. Please don’t say no, please don’t say no.
When he approached and walked around the table, Keegan smiled.
“Oh hey, Quinn, what’s up?”
“Hi. Um, can I sit down for a second?”
“Yeah, sure. I have a test next period, so I can’t talk long.”
Quinn sat. “That’s okay, I just, I um…” He paused and took a deep breath. His knee was bouncing a mile a minute under the table and some of the overhead lighting flickered when Keegan smiled, his blue eyes accentuated by the pastel blue polo shirt he wore.
Quinn smiled back, but it felt giddy and silly. “Sorry, I…”
“Take your time,” Keegan said, grinning. He put his pen down and folded his hands together on the table. “I don’t mind waiting for you.”
Quinn nodded, missing the flirtatious comment. “Would you um…like to maybe, uh, go…out together after school this week? Like, I…uh…was thinking we could meet at Prescott Park and walk around together or maybe grab ice cream at Annabelle’s and…”
“Yes,” Keegan said, grinning.
“What?” Quinn asked, stunned by Keegan’s response.
“Yes, Quinn. I’d love to hang out with you.”
“Oh, well, see, I mean, I was thinking…like…it would be more than…hanging out.”
“Oh?” Keegan said, his grin widening as his eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Yeah, it’s um…a date. I’m asking you on a date.”
Keegan nodded. “I know. My answer is still yes.”
Quinn nodded back, playing it cool to hide the excitement bubbling up inside him. Keegan tore a piece of paper from his notebook, scrawled his phone number on it, and handed it to Quinn. “Text me later, handsome.”
“Okay, thanks,” Quinn said, standing. “I mean, I will…uh…text you. Um, see you later, then…”
Keegan winked at him and Quinn hustled through the library to his friends, his face flushed with excitement, giggling as he moved. Above him, two light bulbs sizzled and popped while others flickered.
Ravone and Loren squealed with excitement and lightly clapped their hands. He saw Blake motion for him to calm down, but his infatuation with Keegan overpowered his senses. He took a deep breath and the lights stopped flickering.
“What did he say?” Ravone squeaked out when he approached them.
Quinn took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “He said yes!”
They yipped with excitement for him and threw their arms around him in a joyful group hug.
“Now you just have to tell your dads,” Blake said. Quinn, Ravone, and Loren ceased their celebration and stared at Blake.
“Wow,” Loren said. “Way to suck the life out of a happy moment
.”
“What?” Blake said, raising his hands in surrender. “I was thinking it’s the perfect opportunity to come out. You know, ‘Hey dads, I have a date tomorrow after school, and oh yeah, it’s with a guy.’ Boom. Done. Easy.”
Ravone tilted her head to the side and looked back at Quinn. “You know, he does have a point.” Then, she looped her arm through Blake’s and smiled at him.
Quinn chuckled. “Yeah, I know. That’s the scary part.” They all laughed and walked to the cafeteria together. Quinn’s joyous grin expressed his satisfaction and accomplishment at asking his crush out. I can’t believe I’ve got a date with Keegan Miller.
❖
“Son, could you come in here please?” Daddio asked.
“Sure thing, one second,” Quinn called out, balancing a plate of cookies on his hooked left arm while holding a glass in his left hand while pouring milk into it from the jug in his right hand and holding the refrigerator door open with his right knee. When he finished, he carefully set the milk back into the fridge and screwed the cap on with his free hand. Then, taking the plate from his left arm, he walked into the living room to join his dads. They muted the television when he entered, a sign that something wasn’t right.
Quinn looked at them and swallowed nervously.
“Have a seat,” Daddio said, feigning a smile.
“Uh, okay.” He sat on the edge of the couch across from his dads, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do with his milk and cookies.
“Quinn, Dad and I want to talk to you about something. We hope you feel you can come to us and speak openly about your successes, failures, or whatever is bothering you at any given time. We obviously speak candidly with you, as well.”
“Yeah, sure,” Quinn answered hesitantly. Are they going to ask for my advice or something?
Daddio cleared his voice. “We’ve both noticed you’re acting a bit differently since we came back from Rangeley. Are you experiencing any…symptoms we should know about? Do you have aches or pains we should talk with a doctor about?”
“What?” Quinn asked, thrown off guard by the topic. “No, none at all. In fact, I feel better than ever.”
“Oh, okay,” Daddio said. He looked at his husband.
Dad spoke next. “We also, um, noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with Blake at slightly later hours. That needs to stop on school nights, but…my question is…” He paused and cleared his throat. “Well, there’s no delicate way to ask this, so I’ll just come out with it. Are you and Blake more than friends? Are you…boyfriends?”
Quinn burst out laughing and nearly spilled the glass of milk in his hand. He shook his head and stamped his feet, reveling in his dads’ moment of confusion. “Oh my gosh, dad! Hell no, we are absolutely not boyfriends,” he responded emphatically with a finality that visibly shocked his dads. He stopped laughing and froze when he saw deep hurt creep onto his father’s faces.
“Oh, okay. Sorry I asked,” Dad said.
Aw crap, that came out totally wrong.
“Wait, that totally didn’t come out the way I wanted it to,” Quinn said. His dads looked at him and waited for him to continue, their faces painfully emotionless. He set his milk and cookies on the end table next to the couch he sat on and walked to the couch his dads were on. He sat on the coffee table and faced them, a dad to his left and right.
“Blake is my best friend, but he’s straight and will most likely never be my boyfriend.”
He saw the faintest hint of joy and happiness flash across Daddio’s face.
Here goes everything…
“But I do have a date this week with a boy from school named Keegan.”
Daddio threw his hands up and shrieked with excitement. Dad grinned as tears flowed down his cheeks. He leaned forward and pulled Quinn toward him. They embraced warmly, and Quinn allowed himself to tear up, surprised by how wonderful it felt to be open about his sexuality with his dads.
“I win,” Daddio said, jumping up and down. “Tim, you have to take us all out to a fabulous celebratory dinner!”
“Oh, shut up, Aren,” Dad said, laughing as he held his son. “I’m so proud of you, Quinn. I’m so happy you finally felt comfortable telling us.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t think…”
“Girl, please!” Dad said through tears, pushing Quinn up and snapping his fingers. “Did you honestly think we couldn’t tell?”
Quinn laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I figured. But, I’m confused…what did Daddio win?”
Dad start laughing as Daddio sat down next to them and wrapped his arms around both of them.
“I won the bet, silly,” Daddio said, laughing. “I said you’d come out to us this year. Tim said you’d come out to us last year. Whoever won had to take the family out to celebrate at the restaurant of your choice. So, where are we going? Dad’s got the ching ching burning in his pocket!”
“You should never use slang like that, Daddio,” Quinn said laughing. Then, he took a deep breath and looked at his dads. “We’re really going to celebrate this?”
“Oh yes!” Daddio said, dramatically nodding his head. “With a emphasis on fabulousness!”
Quinn smiled mischievously. “Then we’re going to get all gussied up and go to one of Portsmouth’s finest and best dining experiences ever.”
“McDonalds?” Daddio quipped, chuckling.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “How very dare you! We’re going to SALT at the Wentworth by the Sea.”
“An excellent choice,” Dad said, smiling through tears. Daddio clapped his hands in agreement.
Quinn took a deep breath and smiled at his dads. What the hell was I so afraid of?
❖
Blake
Blake steered his bike onto Andrew Jarvis Drive past the line of parents and students heading to the school parking lots and drop-off zones. He immediately became aware of Quinn’s presence in his mind and made his way toward their usual before-school spot. Something seemed off with Quinn, but he couldn’t put his finger on it using his proximity power, an ability they had yet to name.
As he rode to the bike lockup, he saw Quinn and then his stomach dropped. The school bully Darien James and his obnoxious friends were clustered around his best friend. He didn’t see Ravone or Loren, which meant Quinn was fending off the bullies alone. He could only assume they were making fun of him, so he changed direction and rode toward the mess, using his super hearing to figure out what was going on.
“You’re just a freak, McAlester,” Darien said. “Lightning strike or not, you and Blake are freaks.”
Blake braked to a stop behind Darien and jumped off his bike, letting it crash to the ground. Darien and his friends spun around, surprised.
“Speaking of…”
Blake charged him, ready to punch his lights out. “If you have something to say about me, then say it to my face, Darien.” Blake stopped, inches away from Darien’s face.
Darien blinked, his mouth falling open in surprise.
“Got nothing to say?” Blake shouted.
“Easy, Hargreaves, I was just having fun.”
“That didn’t sound like fun to me, Darien!” Blake yelled back.
Quinn shifted over and stepped into his line of sight, his eyes suggesting he be very careful.
“Leave us alone. It’s only a matter of time before one of us pops off on you,” Blake said, backing down.
Darien grinned. “I know. I can’t wait to beat your stupid face into the ground.” Then, he shoved Blake out of the way and walked to the school. His small group of friends followed him, snickering as they left. One of them kicked Blake’s bike, which didn’t do anything except further upset Blake.
“It’s okay, buddy. They’re just being obnoxious. They weren’t hitting me or anything,” Quinn said.
“No!” Blake said, rounding on his friend. “They pick on you all the time. Enough is enough. If you won’t put them in their place, I will.”
“What do you want me to do, get in a figh
t with them at school?” Quinn asked, hands held out in exasperation. “That’s not going to go over well with the principal or my parents and you know it.”
Blake looked away for a moment, contemplating his next move. He watched a group of football seniors and their girlfriends walking toward the main entrance. One of the girls had forgotten her half-full plastic iced-latte cup on the bench they had been sitting at.
An idea formed in his head, and he smiled. “You’re right. There are other ways to get even with him. I’ll be right back, I need to lock up my bike,” he said, bending over to pick up his bicycle.
“Okay, but don’t do anything stupid,” Quinn cautioned.
“I won’t.” Blake picked his bike up and walked to the lockup, which was not near the bench with the iced-latte. For all those times you picked on Quinn, called him Quinn the Queer, pantsed him in the locker room, threatened him, and belittled him for no reason in front of the track team…
He focused on the plastic cup with his mind and then hurled it at Darien. It exploded on his back side, soaking him with ice-cold latte.
Darien swore and spun around, fuming as he pulled off his soaked sweatshirt. He and his friends looked around, but they couldn’t figure out where the plastic cup had come from. Darien stomped on it and stormed toward the school.
Blake chuckled, watching the action from the corner of his eye as he threaded his bike lock through the bike’s frame.
“Darien!” Mrs. White, an English Lit teacher, called out from behind them. “No littering. Pick up your cup, please.”
“It’s not mine,” Darien protested.
She shook her head and waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter whose it is. I just saw you stomp on it, so it’s yours now. Please pick it up and dispose of it properly.”
Blake smirked as he finished securing his bike. He grabbed his backpack and watched Darien pick up the smashed coffee cup with his thumb and index finger, treating it like the most disgusting object in the world.
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