Every muscle was sore when I woke up on Saturday morning as a loud car rumbled through the neighborhood outside. I pulled the bed covers up and over my head, groaning in a higher pitch than I was normally used to. I had chosen to remain transformed overnight to help with healing my overextended muscles, but apparently I’d exerted myself further than I had thought. Chirping birds fluttered through the trees outside my window, flying and flitting about in the branches and leaves. Burying my face in my pillow helped block it all out, but the sore muscles and noise prevented me from returning to the restless sleep I’d been roused from.

I wiggled my hand free from the blankets around me and examined it in the warm morning light. It was smaller, thinner, certainly more dexterous than what I usually sported above the wrist. I curled the slender digits into a fist and turned it around. Interestingly, despite it’s thinner appearance it still looked powerful, a visage of the dexterity and speed that lay behind it. My forearm and bicep carried the same mystifying glamour of elegance and power, toned muscles clearly visible up and down their length. A curious thought struck me concerning the way I’d moved the previous night. Somehow I’d moved through the bomber as he walked towards the police, and I wasn’t sure how that could have been possible. Sure, there were other speedsters in the world, but they usually moved so fast it was hard to tell what their powers actually were.

I tried to concentrate on what I’d felt last night when I ran through the bomber. It wasn’t any particular thought or feeling, it had been like instinct. An instinct to save the people around me. Try as I might, however, I couldn’t seem to replicate that it and my hand remained still. I let out a frustrated sigh. As much of a colossal dick as he was, maybe Markus could share some tips on how to control these powers. Did he feel the same intense energy boiling beneath his chest that I did?

I grabbed my phone and examined my reflection closely. Thankfully none of the shenanigans last night had caused any sort of bruising on my face. The girl in the reflection looked tired, her hair disheveled from a night’s worth of tossing and turning in bed. But her eyes, despite myself not having used powers recently, glimmered in the light of the morning sun. Even at her worst she was still a sight to behold. I grinned. I was a sight to behold. I unlocked my phone and scrolled through the messages I’d received from Kayden in the night.

 

KAYDEN:

“How’re you feeling?”

 

ME:

“Bit sore, but I’ll be fine.”

 

KAYDEN:

“I still think you totally pushed yourself too far last night, but. I’m proud of you for saving everyone, Gabby. When it comes down to those moments… not many people can pull the trigger like you did.” 

 

A hint of red danced across my cheeks as I fought off a blush.

 

ME:

“It was no big deal, honest. I just did what I felt like I needed to do.”

 

KAYDEN:

“And that’s why I like you, Gabby. You’ve got the guts required to risk your safety for others. I think that’s incredibly admirable.” 

 

The blush on my face was only increasing in severity as it darkened several shades. What were they trying to do, make me die of blood-loss to the cheeks?

 

ME:

“Thanks… 0.0”

 

KAYDEN:

“Lol! Rest up, okay? I might have a lead on something for us.” 

 

This proved a good distraction as my interest was piqued.

 

ME:

“A lead?”

 

KAYDEN:

“Hexecute. I’ll tell you when I have more information.” 

 

I groaned and dropped my phone onto the bed. Why did Kayden always have to be so cagey? I let out a yawn and rubbed at my eyes.

It was difficult to get any decent sleep during the night, the lingering adrenaline and sensations of my current body proved annoying to adjust to. Once I was finally asleep, dreams beyond my recollection kept my mind active and alert. It felt like everything was moving faster in my head than I was used to. As I pondered it further I remembered during the previous night when I was moving within that second before the bomb erupted I had still been able to think and work out a plan. Sure, a lot of it had been instinct and common sense, but not all of it. Did this mean that I could think faster than before as well? 

I made a mental note to test that out later while I rose from bed. My chest’s center of gravity shifted with me and pulled my breasts downwards eliciting a slight grimace on my part. It wasn’t that it felt wrong or anything, it just felt weird. I moved to walk over to the closet and winced in pain as pain shot up my calf into my thigh. I cursed quietly and caught myself on the bed to rub the aching muscles. I managed to walk unsteadily over to my dresser and pulled shorts and a shirt on. I paused when I saw my hero gear peeking out of my closet door, haphazardly tossed inside when I was trying to race mom to bed. I chastised myself for not picking these up last night, but I couldn’t really blame myself fully either. After mom had left the room I had been overtaken by extreme fatigue and fell asleep just as quickly. I picked up the goggles, their metallic coating shining in the dim light of the enclosed space. They were just as light now as they had been in Mel’s lab, though it was clear they were incredibly sturdy as I ran my fingers along the grooved edges. I think they were made of carbon fiber? It was hard to tell even as I placed them onto my face, and the familiar whir of air suctioned them into place. I tugged at them gently and winced as my skin moved outward with them. 

“Ouch!” I yelped. By my best guess it was some kind of mechanism designed both to prevent them from falling off or being taken off without my permission. “Good secret identity failsafe, Mel,” I mumbled quietly. The HUD sprang to life once more.

All systems functional. Good morning, Gabrielle. 

I yelped. These things knew my name? I had shared it with Mel, but to think she’d put them into these things... I guess I’d have to make sure they didn’t fall into the wrong person’s hands. I tested the shutters over the lenses again by blinking my eyelids and giggled. They moved with my eyes with surprising fluidity. Thinking about it now, I’d been wearing them last night when I pulled off that new power. I’d have to let Mel know that these were already making a huge difference. I fiddled around the lens edge and flipped a latch, allowing them to come off my face.

I dropped them into my hands and moved them and the rest of my gear further into the closet out of sight when a knock at the door caught me by surprise. I quickly changed back into my default form and started stepping out of the closet when mom poked her head around the door. She gave me a funny look and giggled softly.

“What?” I asked indignantly.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “I just wanted to tell you breakfast is ready.” My stomach growled fiercely at the mention of food and prompted mom to start outright laughing.

“Be right down,” I blushed. Breakfast was pretty subdued for the most part. Over waffles and fruit mom discussed our plans for the day while Parker and Jules slept on the table and tapped away on her phone respectively.

“So Gavin, we’ll head to the mall around noon.” She smiled.

“The mall? Why?” I replied in confusion.

“Because we still haven’t gotten you any good clothes for school, you didn’t come with us before when I went with your siblings, remember?” The memory played through my mind like a flash. Hard to forget the night you were struck by lightning and became a superhero, after all.

“Right, right,” I agreed. After we finished mom stuck me with dishwashing duty, likely a consequence of how flaky I’d been lately. After I was done, I was walking up the stairs when mail fluttered through the mail slot in the front door. I bent over and picked up three letters and a magazine. The magazine was predictably addressed to Jules while the letters, two bills and an insurance letter, went to mom. I flipped through them and noticed that one of the bills had red showing through the envelope and had “Past Due” written underneath the address line. Judging by the sender, this was a bill from the bank, and the only bills mom had through them should be… I looked around. The house. An unsettling pang of anxiety began to creep through my gut. Were we in trouble with money? 

A slender hand abruptly snatched the envelopes out of my hands without warning. I turned around to find mom standing behind me, sifting through them herself. 

“Thanks for getting the mail, sweetie.” She smiled. I stammered for a moment, unsure what to say about what I’d seen when she continued, “Oh, that’s probably for Jules.” She pointed to the magazine still in my hands. “Go run that up to her for me, will you?” She turned me around and pushed me towards the stairs. I hesitantly complied and cautiously made my way up the staircase. My calf began to ache again once I reached the middle of the staircase, prompting me to grab the railing for support. I looked back only to find mom still absorbed in the mail. If mom noticed, she didn’t say anything as I rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. I knocked on Jules’ open doorframe and dropped the magazine on her bed next to her. She was looking at her phone with her headphones in and, judging by the rapid beats escaping the maxed out volume of the headphones, I’d say she was listening to pop music.

“Mail,” I said, before turning back towards the door.

“Thanks, Gabby,” she called after me. I halted in my tracks and spun towards her. 

“What?” I asked carefully. She gave me an annoyed look.

“I said thanks, Gavvy. You need to cut back on the hip-hop, dude. It’s blowing your ears out.” While it was a relief that she hadn’t somehow sussed out, like I was starting to expect Mom had, that I was an Inverse, I found myself somewhat frustrated.

“Says the dweeb whose music I can hear from the living room.” I frowned back.

“You can not,” she sneered, plucking her headphones out of her ears and sticking her tongue out at me. “Give me my mail,” she demanded. I held the magazine above my head, well above her range of reach

“Better jump for it,” I mocked. She rolled her eyes and jumped from her bed in a rush. She jumped up towards my hands to reach the magazine clutched in my grip, but I pulled it just out of her reach at the last second.

“Oh, so close!” I laughed. A scowl crept across her face as she turned back around towards the bed and placed one of her headphones back in.

“You know, you can be a real dick-lord, Gavin. Just like dad,” she sighed. The playful expression immediately dropped from my face.

“That’s not true,” I countered.

“Isn’t it? He’s an ass and you act just like him sometimes. He’s never around and neither are you anymore. You’re always out doing…” she paused as she thought for a moment. “...stuff. I don’t know, you never want to talk about it. You’re so secretive and shut yourself in your room all the time and you only ever come out to eat or go to school.” She picked the magazine up and began to leaf through it. I quickly rose to my feet. Cass may have been right about the stuff dad said about trans people and gay people being wrong, but that didn’t mean dad was a bad guy. I mean, he was my dad. He loved us even if he was busy a lot.

I shook my head. “You just don’t understand. Dad isn’t a bad guy. He’s just down on his luck and busy working. He does care about us, even if it doesn’t seem like it sometimes.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Gavin,” she mumbled angrily. I stomped out of the room. She wasn’t right. Dad cared about us.

 

* * *

 

The ride to the mall was quiet. Mom and I were stuffed into her small car heading further away from the city towards one of her favorite strip mall stores. She rarely took us to thrift stores unless we were looking for furniture or something specific, but now that’d I’d discovered that our finances might be in jeopardy I was beginning to wish she would. The scenery outside passed by at what seemed to me like a snail’s pace. Feeling restless once more I began to long for the days when I could zone out in a moving vehicle. I scrolled through a few websites on my phone to pass the time while mom fiddled with the radio. I was finally starting to show up on the hero forums I frequented under the misnomer “Zippy” which I felt was totally unfair. I mean, who even picks a supernym like that? It’s totally a sidekick name. I really needed to come up with a better one before this god-awful one began to stick. There were videos of me ripped straight from newscasts vibrating the bomb off of the bomber the previous night, but Kayden had been wrong about the types of cameras the crews had. At best I looked like a blur moving around the screen incredibly fast, and at worst you couldn’t make me out at all. I was deep into the comments (mostly positive!) when mom cleared her throat.

“You know,” Mom began suddenly, “We haven’t had any alone time in a while, just you and me. How’s school?”

“It’s fine,” I replied as I sank into my seat. “You know how it goes, every day kind of feels like the same thing over and over.”

“Really? Even in a school with other alters?” she asked.

“You’d be surprised. It’s still a highschool full of teenagers, after all,” I answered quietly. Mom didn’t say anything for a moment as she drove along the highway. I think she was trying to figure out how to pry further without pushing too much, but wasn’t quite sure where that line was.

Finally she replied, “That makes sense. I’ve told you before about my high school experiences.” I began to laugh.

“Yeah, ‘damn that Tammy Frederick’ for cheating on a test and getting you both kicked out of the class, I’ve heard that one before.”

“Listen,” she huffed and held her fingers together in front of her, “I was this close to a four point-- okay, that doesn’t really matter in retrospect. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that even though you’re at a superhuman high school, what you said is true. High school is still high school. It can change you, and so can the people you meet there.” She gave me an appraising look.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, a story you haven’t heard, huh?” She smiled wryly.

I rolled my eyes. “Mom.”

She leaned back and gazed out upon the road ahead. “Back in the day, when your aunt Nessa was in her alter program, I was by myself in a new school, too, after we moved here. For a while I didn’t have any friends, except for this one boy who was always the nicest to me.”

“Dad?” I asked quietly. She snickered.

“No, definitely not. No, I wasn’t this boy’s type. His name was Ricky. He was a pretty tall soft spoken kid, but as you know I was a bit of a loudmouth back when I was young. So imagine my surprise when Ricky and I became good friends. Your grandparents loved him, they were always egging me on to ask him out if he was going to drag his feet on it.”

“Did you?” I quickly responded.

“Yeah, I did,”  she answered with a small smile tugging at her cheeks. “He was gay.”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right. Now this was in the early 90’s, mind, so being gay was pretty stigmatized back then. I was totally oblivious to that whole problem myself, but he was my friend, and when he expected me to leave I told him I wanted to try. I wanted to save our friendship. He told me about how he figured it out, that it wasn’t a choice for him, but he was also afraid that his parents would find out. Your grandparents were always very accepting of anything your aunt and I decided to do, so I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of parents who wouldn’t be accepting of their child no matter what.” She sighed heavily. “But I held on to the hope that people were inherently good. After shooting the idea back and forth for a few amazing weeks of summer, I convinced him to tell his parents. To give them a chance to be accepting. He wasn’t sure, but I promised him if it didn’t go well I would have his back.”

“How did it go?” I replied, completely enraptured by her tale.

“Well, he left my house on this warm summer night filled with lightning bugs hovering in the air and told me he would call me later about how it went. So I stayed by the telephone for a few hours, waiting for his call. And… well it… it never came. I found out a few days later that his parents were sending him to this camp thing, something religiously affiliated. I…” her voice hitched. “I never saw him again.”

“Mom…” I whispered. She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Sometimes I still think about that day. I promised him I would take care of him, but in the end… I couldn’t. But I promised myself that I would do better. That I’d be a better parent and friend than his ever were.” Suddenly the car lurched to a stop , alerting me to the fact that we’d parked in a parking spot in front of mom’s usual clothing destination, Bullsye.

She wiped her eyes and ushered me inside without a further word, a smile replacing her earlier sorrowful expression. I was worried she was just covering up her emotions to placate me, but she didn’t give me any opportunity to push further as she stayed ahead of me as we walked along the linoleum floor. We started walking into the clothing section, mom leading with purpose while I glanced at the TV’s mounted in the colorful cafe nearby. A sly smile crept onto my lips as I realized the TV’s were playing a video of the previous night when I’d swiped the bomb. The television was muted but I could make out the bottom line of text over the feed. “Mysterious potential speedster, Crescent City Blur, saves police.” Pride began to swell within me as I considered this development.. Damn straight I saved them.

I was still absorbed in my suddenly televised accomplishments when mom started to hand me shirts.

“Here, go try these on,” she said clearly before moving to another rack. Unsurprisingly, men’s cut polos and button-up shirts stared up at me. Or was that actually surprising? I had my suspicions that mom was beginning to clue into what I’d been doing, but if she was giving me these… these awful boring men’s shirts? I wasn’t sure. I trudged into the fitting room nearby and began to try on the clothes. Mom, true to form, had picked out items that all fit, so this was really more of a formality. I wasn’t in love with any of the shirts. How could I be? They were all so boxy and unappealing. I pulled at the hem of the last one she’d given me. It was a rich dark scarlet in color, something I’d not been used to getting in past shopping trips. Upon examination, most of the shirts she’d given me did end up on the more colorful and pastel side of the spectrum. One of them was a lovely purple-magenta mix.

A rapidfire knock at the door rang through the small changing room.

“Honey? I’m going to take a look around the women’s section for myself, okay?” A fantasy began to play through my head as I imagined that she was going to that section to get me more clothing options. The weak smile faded however as I looked in the mirror again. 

Right. Like that was going to happen.

 “You’re getting older now so I think you deserve to be in charge of what you get. Let me know when you’re set.”

“Sure,” I replied glumly. What was this dance mom and I were sharing? Sometimes I felt like she didn’t have a clue about me, other times it seemed like she was holding all the cards. Was she waiting for me to come to her? I shook my head. That’d be a non-starter. I still wasn’t sure if I was actually trans. That wasn’t really an option. It sounded more and more correct these days, however, and I felt an ever increasing pang within me to live the life I dreamed I could lead as Gabby. But it was one thing to consider such a dynamic altering change privately, it was something else entirely to vocalise it to someone that didn’t already intimately understand like Cass and Sammy had. Hell, even Kayden would probably be on my side. But I couldn’t be sure about Mom. 

That story she shared gave the impression that she’d accept me… but what if she didn’t? If any of my friends had rejected me, it would have hurt but they ultimately held no power over my life. If Mom rejected me though… would she kick me out? Divorce me from the family? That’s certainly something Dad might do. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t find it in me to utter those heavy, irradiating words to mom. Someone else might call it survival instinct, but I couldn’t see it as anything other than fear. Any pride I’d felt at watching my actions on the television screen earlier began to fade away. I wasn’t a hero, I was just a coward.

I glumly stepped out of the booth with the options I found suited myself most, the purple polo, a few assorted t-shirts of similar vibrant colors, and a sweater. Sure I had a few of these in good condition already at home, but what was another one? Besides, it’d hide more of the body I was becoming increasingly ashamed of. I looked around for mom but didn’t see her nearby. I took a few steps into the aisle between sections and found mom to be examining a dress over in the women’s area. It was white with red flower petals falling around the bodice in a blizzard of frozen motion. The sleeves stopped short, capping just over the shoulder. Mom was fussing over it, turning it over in her hands as she examined it. Her face flashed through several emotions seemingly at random. Elation, confliction, sadness, grief, guilt. She shook her head and placed it back on the rack before walking further into the department. I stepped back behind a rack of blue-jeans and closed my eyes in frustration.

I really wanted to wear that dress. I wanted to wear so many things over there. But there was no way I could sneak-- I stopped short. I could sneak over if I moved fast enough. I hurried back into the dressing room and threw the clothes in my hands to the bench situated on the wall. Grasping the whirling energy within me, a small flash filled the room and left me standing once more as a cute little redhead. My jeans bunched into my sneakers but thankfully left me enough room to speed around. I peered out the door and breathed a sigh of relief, Mom was nowhere in sight. I shot out of the room and headed towards the women’s section. I estimated my size to be somewhere between a medium and small, so I grabbed multiple sizes of skirts, dresses, jeans, and anything else I could get my hands on before landing back into the dressing room. 

I dropped the clothing on the floor and immediately began to rotate through the selection of clothing that had been laid out. Feeling the same thrill I had when stealing some of Jules’ clothes, the dressing room was a whirlwind of color and fashion, like a montage sped up to a ridiculous degree. A wide smile spread across my face as I came face to face with myself in so many different cute outfits, some admittedly too small or large for my new frame. I really liked this. I liked feeling the swish of skirts brush past my thighs, or the patterns of flowers or designs on the tops. I felt beautiful, and I wanted to feel this way more often. A loud knock rang through the air.

“Gavin, are you almost finished?” I heard Mom’s voice call out. 

“Yeah,” I giggled as I modeled one final dress in the mirror. Mom was quiet for a second and immediately I knew why.

“Gavin? Was that you?” I heard her ask hesitantly. Cursing under my breath and thinking quickly (hah), I quickly pulled several articles of clothing over me to mask any flashes of light and changed back into my default form. The dress I’d been wearing earlier was now cutting into my shoulders, so I pulled the garment upwards like I’d seen in internet videos online, though it caught around my wide shoulders.

“Yes, one second,” I groaned as pulled harder on the dress. Damn these wider shoulders! In one final effort I yanked the dress off my torso and scrambled back to the pile of men’s clothes I’d left on the bench and reassembled the outfit I’d been wearing earlier. I scooped up the shirts I liked and exited the dressing room making sure to quickly close the door behind me. “All set!” I exclaimed as I ushered Mom away from the dressing rooms so she couldn’t catch a glimpse of what I’d been doing.

“Wha- was that you earlier?” she commented as we walked and gave me an odd look. She clearly heard my higher-pitched voice respond earlier so there wasn’t much use denying it… but what if I tried to play off her expectations?

“Was what me? We were the only ones talking,” I replied. Mom shook her head. 

“I swear I heard a higher pitch speaking, Gavin,” she remarked.

“Really? Why would you have heard that? Do I look like a girl or something, Mom?” I smirked. She eyed me appraisingly and came to the same conclusion I reached whenever I looked in the mirror at the face I currently wore.

“No, I suppose you don’t,” she sighed. “Now, now, hold on there.” She stopped me in my tracks and turned me around. “Remember the rule?” she reminded me gently. Right, the rule. Whenever we went out shopping for new clothes, Mom’s rule was that we had to choose our favorite two or three options that we’d picked as that was all she could afford at any one time. In light of that bill I’d found earlier this morning, I began to feel bad about complaining about it all these years. 

“Okay,” I agreed quietly and began to make my way back towards the racks to return a few options I didn’t prefer to hold on to. She looked confused.

“Woah, just like that? I know you’re never been as bad as your sister, but you always give me at least a little guff. What’s going on?” she called back. I shrugged.

“Just tired, I guess.”

“Oh,” she said in a quiet voice. “Well give me the options you want at least and I can meet you at the front of the store,” she held out her hand. I nodded and gave her the shirts I wanted and made my way around the men’s section putting my other choices back up. I felt bad about the mess I’d left in the dressing room but I didn’t have the time to put those options back up. I hoped the employee tasked with cleaning up my mess wouldn’t be too upset. I passed by the dress Mom had been inspecting earlier and on a whim I checked the tag. Immediately I recoiled, it was at least double the cost of anything I’d bought today. Maybe this is what Mom was struggling with earlier? A kernel of doubt began to form in my gut, maybe I’d been wrong about her.

 

* * *

 

As we made our way back through the mall towards the exit a familiar face caught my eye from afar as I heard laughing from the food court. Four figures were laughing at a small child who had spilled their food onto the floor. Upon closer inspection the four figures turned out to be familiar thorns in my side. Marcus, Kip, Vince and Buckly stood over the smaller boy, each laughing rapturously. 

“Why’d you do that?” the boy cried out. Kip bent down to look him in the eye.

“Because you were in our way, champ.” He smiled that same disgusting grin at the child who in turn grimaced. I could feel my blood boiling. That kid didn’t deserve that just because he was in their way. Mom and I were passing a bathroom. If I wanted to, I could just rush in, transform, run back out and pay them back before they ever knew I was there. But Marcus gave me pause. He didn’t see me yet, but if I sped around in front of him he’d definitely know what happened better than anyone else, even in his default form. All it would take is for him to see me and transform himself and I’d have a much different situation on my hands, one which Mom’s presence would only further complicate. Mom and I continued on our way past the food court further and further from the laughing trio and their leader. I bit my lip and continued to watch. Marcus shook his head and started towards one of the surrounding stores and suddenly, as he gained distance from the others, I saw an opening.

“Mom, I need to go to the bathroom,” I quickly yelped and turned on my heels into the restroom. “I’ll meet you at the car!”

“O...kay?” she replied in a confused voice. I didn’t even wait to get into a stall, as soon as I rounded the corner into the bathroom and confirmed that I was alone, I gripped down on the bolt within me and transformed once more. I rushed to the corner of the bathroom entrance and poked my head around the corner. Mom had her back turned to me and Marcus was facing the sneaker store. Kip, Vince, and Buckley were still occupied with the kid, exactly where I wanted them. I raced over and began to weave between them. I’d been waiting to show them my powers for far too long. The face that went along with them? Maybe not so much. Vince was holding a litre sized fountain drink in his hand as his form slowly shook up and down with laughter. His voice was low, incredibly so, just like a slowed down recording.

I reached out towards the cup and gave it a tight squeeze. Satisfaction bloomed in my chest as orange liquid began to slowly push up past the lid into the air, likely to coat all three of them. I moved the kid a couple feet back and continued towards the restroom. I gave Markus one last glance to make sure he still had his back to me before I nearly lost my pace from shock. He was fully turned around and looking at the others with a shocked expression. By comparison they were still laughing quite loudly over some garbled joke I couldn’t make out. How had Markus turned around so fast? When he was running in gym I could keep track of him better than I assumed other students could, but I wasn’t messing around at half speed like he probably was then, I was really pushing myself here. 

I hoofed it into the bathroom and changed back once out of sight. I quickly slipped out of the restroom as a loud shriek echoed off the tiled floors of the mall. I looked over my shoulder to find the trio screeching in disgust as they found themselves covered in whatever orange soda Vince had been drinking.

“What the hell, Marcus?” Kip groaned. Marcus was looking around the food court, clearly either having not heard him or having chosen to ignore him. He turned towards me and narrowed his eyes as I rounded a corner and caught up to Mom, breaking his line of sight on me.

“That bathroom is super gross, I’ll wait until we get home,” I said in an uneven tone as I gently pushed her towards the door.

“Are you--” she began before I pushed her harder, “Woah, alright alright,” she laughed. We quickly found our way back to the car and pulled out of the parking lot. I kept my eyes on the exit for Marcus, but as I felt a familiar tug in my chest I realized that I didn’t need to. I could feel him nearby like before, likely watching us leave. 

Sliding into the dark fabric cushion of the passenger seat, I let out an inward groan. I should’ve just let them be, but instead I had to get involved and now Markus is definitely going to be paying closer attention to me. Mom gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I know, honey, we’ll be home soon,” she laughed before changing the radio station to a classic rock channel. Great, Mom thought I still had to use the bathroom. I laid my head against the window as we drove home in near silence save for some lyrics she sang along to from one of her favorite bands, Leonard something, I didn’t remember. The sun was beginning to set in the sky as we neared home after taking a detour around an area in Old Town where Verdant and Starburst had apprehended an alter with what I assumed to be flame powers judging by the amount of firetrucks on standby. We rolled onto our street and Mom abruptly groaned. 

“Crap.” She frowned. I looked ahead and understood immediately.

A midnight blue audi was parked half on the sidewalk outside our house with a tall, lanky man leaning on the driver’s side door. He eyed us as we pulled into the driveway and sauntered up after us. He had short cropped brown hair and stubble across his chin. His dark red button-up dress shirt hung loosely off his beanpole-like frame and folded over the tops of his charcoal khakis.

“Don’t linger outside my door…” Mom mumbled to herself in annoyance as she grabbed her purse and we opened our doors. “Hello,  Marv,” she said flatly.

“Delilah,” the man said, somehow packing more distaste in his reply. I shut the car door with the bag of my new shirts in hand and walked around the car.

“Hey, Dad,” I mumbled in an unsure tone. What was he doing here?

“Gavin.” He smiled warmly and held his hand out. I meekly complied and grabbed it, allowing him to pull me into a sort of half-hug, half handshake. Dad only gave actual hugs to Jules and Mom, though the likelihood of catching the latter happening was, as Mom put it, as likely as “getting one hundred lines of javascript right the first time without having to test it”. Parker and I were stuck with this weird Frankenstein of a greeting. He smelled like musky cologne and his grip was rough.

“Are you here to drop off what we talked about?” Mom cut in, an edge creeping into her voice. Dad and her pretty much despised each other ever since I was a kid and they got divorced. The judge had granted Mom full custody of us with the exception of negotiating holiday visits and occasional weekend activities, so as much as she would’ve preferred it she couldn’t seem to get rid of Dad.

“Yeah, of course I am. I’m a man of my word, even if the court had to define it for me,” he said in an oleaginous tone. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope and begrudgingly handed it to Mom who coldly stuffed it into her purse. “Always a goal-oriented woman, I’ll give you that, Delilah,” he grunted. 

“Thanks,” she huffed and continued towards the front door. Dad turned to me and quickly turned his scowl into a more neutral expression.

“So, Gav, I hear you got into that fancy-shmancy alter school, huh? Finally my taxes paying for something good for a change.”

“Y-yeah, I did,” I nodded. Dad proceeded to pull out a stick of nicotine gum and popped it into his mouth, loudly chewing on it as he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, billowing out the front of them.

“Now that school’s near Worthington Heights, right?” he asked, distaste dripping from his pronunciation of of the area. Worthington Heights was an area where different minorities, usually LGBTQ folks, congregated in living quarters. Worthington Heights was about ten or so blocks from the school, so it wasn’t exactly close. To him, anything even in eyesight of the place was a commune for hippies and liberals and “the gays”, as he called them. Dad lived up in Fort Dick, a fact Mom found incredibly hilarious. It was about thirty minutes north of Crescent City, probably longer if traffic on the highways was particularly bad. When he and Mom divorced he moved as far as he could while still staying within a reasonable commute time, and thankfully for him Fort Dick provided him the homogenous community he was after with its luxurious housing and tall fences around every home.

“Yeah, it’s downtown,” I replied. “It’s really cool though, I can always grab a slice of pizza from Mr. Stavros’ place.”

“Oh, man, I do miss his slices.” Dad leaned back against Mom’s car with his arms folded together. The setting sun sank over the horizon, casting his front in a blue-ish shadow. “Too bad he never made the smart decision to expand his business like I told him to,” Dad sighed. “But, well, you can’t help stupid. So Gav, any powers yet?” 

“N-nope! Nothing yet, but they say that’s normal,” I lied. Unlike when I had to lie to others, lying to Dad came relatively easily to me. I’d learned over the years that it was best to let him hear what he wanted to hear and not a drop more. Anything else and he was liable to lose his temper entirely and blow up at me.

“Well, here’s hoping you don’t get some sort of freakshow power.” He elbowed me roughly and laughed deeply, encouraging me to do the same. “I can handle the ones who get flight or whatever like your aunt, but the ones with lizard skin or the fuckin’ weird hands or the inney-outie ones,” he trailed off as he shook his head. “If you turn into some kind of worm, son, I might just have to say my goodbyes.” I nodded and laughed. I definitely hadn’t seen any worm-people so far, so I wasn’t entirely sure if that was possible. “Beyond the powered folk, have you been learning things like history and math?”

“Sure, as much as I was in my old school,” I groaned.

Dad gave me a serious look. “Gav, you pay attention to that shit, you hear me? You do your damned best to learn that shit. Men like us gotta prove that we know what we’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly. Dad looked at me strangely

“The fuck do you mean ‘what do you mean’?” he barked in a gravelly tone. “You’re a McArthur, Gavin, and you need to act like it.” 

“Right, because you and Grandpa stuck our family’s mark on the map,” I said, repeating an oft-told preamble he liked to go into. 

“Damn straight. This town wouldn’t be what it is today without the McArthur’s, Gavin.” He growled. Grandpa McArthur had started a mildly successful advertising agency, Copperside Advertising, in town a few decades back. There were a few litigious fights with the estate of Colonel Copperside about using the name in vain, but in the end Grandpa saw that as free advertisement especially when paired with our surname. The firm had scored a gig with the city in the early 80’s, rebranding Crescent City with the slogan “Where Revenge of the Jedi was saved”, referencing how the last movie in the Star Wars franchise was filmed in the forests near the city and it’s troubled production. 

The move had proven to be a big hit with fans of the franchise who came to see the landmarks and ended up staying in the growing metropolis. The city designated places all over town as historical sites to bring in more foot traffic and Grandpa’s agency always got a cut of whatever profits were going around. Dad had taken over the operations of it himself about ten years ago, right around when he and Mom split up. Mom didn’t like to talk about why they split up, and I couldn’t figure it out myself. Sure, Dad was a little rough around the edges, but he really did love us and Mom too, at least at one point.

He continued to stare down at me with expectant eyes. “You may be going to that power school, Gavin, but don’t forget that your family is one of the building blocks of this city, okay?”

I weakly nodded. “Right.”

Dad continued, “Damn right. You’re going to be a successful guy like me one day, Gavin. Maybe if whatever power you have is actually useful I can bring you into the firm and we can start getting you groomed to follow in my footsteps.” He ribbed me in the side again. “Big man in the city. How does that sound?” 

The last few weeks flashed through my mind and as he stood over me expecting me to grow into some semblance of him I felt that I could do anything but.

“Y-yeah, that sounds awesome,” I answered. He patted me roughly on the back.

“Atta boy. What’d your mom get you?” he asked and pointed to the bag. Before I could reply he took it from my hands and began to sort through the bag. “Is this your sister’s?” he asked incredulously before pulling out a purple polo shirt.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “That’s mine.”

He rolled his eyes and threw it back into the bag. “Purple? What, do you have any other pastels in there? Pretty gay if you ask me, son. You’re not gay or something, are you?”

“W-what?” I stuttered. “N-no way! I like girls, Dad,” I nearly shouted.

He gave a hesitant nod of approval. “Good. Remind me to take you to Pertolli’s. They have really nice high class stuff that’ll make you look like a real man,” he smiled. “Might even got a nice watch out of it like mine,” he pointed to his Rolex, a timepiece Mom said she’d bet her savings on being fake. I shrugged.

“Alright.” His phone began to ring, playing one of the old rock songs Mom and I had listened to on the way home. Dad hurriedly pulled it out of the clip on his belt and answered it.”

“Go for Marv,” he said confidently as he began to walk away. He turned back towards me and waved. I waved back as he hopped into his car and revved the engine loud enough for some of our neighbors to turn towards us before peeling off down the asphalt, smoke rising in the air as he went. I stood there in the driveway while he turned out of sight. He didn’t even say bye. I shook my head, no. He was just busy. And if I managed to keep my powers under wraps, maybe I could go with him on those calls. Maybe then it’d feel like he’d actually listen to me.

My own phone buzzed in my pocket, alerting me that I was still in the driveway. I walked up towards the front door while reading a text Cass had sent.

CASS:

“Hey, I just saw the news, was that you who stopped the bomber last night? It looked similar to when you’ve used your powers around me before but so do a lot of speedsters when they’re blurring around.”

 

ME:

“Yeah, it was me,”

 

She replied almost instantly.

 

CASS:

“Dude! That’s so cool! What did it feel like running that fast?” 

 

I laughed. Cass always had a way of making me feel like everything was okay, even if it wasn’t.

 

ME:

“I dunno… it’s hard to explain it. Everything kind of felt like jello that I could cut through like a knife. And it felt so… I guess right is the proper term? I don’t know if I can really convey it in text.”

 

CASS:

“You’ll have to fill me in more when I see you at school. Promise?” 

 

ME:

“Lol, yeah, I promise.

 

CASS:

“Yes! Oh! Speaking of, are you worried about school on Monday? Your clip went pretty viral. Even if they don’t know it’s you, it was pretty public. Plus you were, I guess, showing off downtown too? There’s video of that as well.” 

 

I gulped. How would school react?

 

ME:

“Oh, I think everything should be chill on Monday.”