All eyes in the gymnasium turned towards me, the whispers starting up again with renewed ferocity. Cass nervously sidled closer. Mrs. Bittinboulder looked me over for a long, stretched moment.

“Alright.” She shrugged and scribbled my name onto the clipboard. “So we’ve got Gabrielle McArthur. Is Imogen McIntyre here?” Huh. To call that anticlimactic was something of an understatement. I figured she’d fight me on that like virtually everyone else had. I looked at Cass quizzically.

“She probably didn’t want to out your name to everyone unless you were okay with it. She’s always been pretty nice about mine, so I’m not particularly surprised,” Cass said.

“Huh. That’s cool of her, I guess?” I shifted uncomfortably. A hand came to a gentle rest on my shoulder.

“Hey, Gabrielle, it’s good to meet you!” Angus leaned in with a gleeful smile. “I’m glad you finally felt comfortable sharing your alter form with us.” He looked away with a sheepish look. “Courtney and I were, uh, starting to bet on what powers you had.”

I returned his smile in kind and brushed his concern off. “Hey! Don’t worry, there’s a lot of betting going around, I gather.”

He looked immediately relieved. “Oh, good. Now I can get Court to focus on studying instead. You’re grabbing lunch with us today, right?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” I chirped. Huh. Angus was being extremely cool about this, at least as cool as Cass was. Was it because he was gay? Or maybe he understood what it was like to be the outcast. Either way, more friendly faces couldn’t hurt. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as difficult as I anticipated. 

“Markus Miller,” Mrs. Bittinboulder called out. A hush fell over the crowd as the doors to the gym slammed shut and footsteps signaled someone approaching. “Was just calling your name. Nice to see you, Markus.” Mrs. Bittinboulder nodded at him. As he wandered closer, what little murmurs were left morphed into a suffocating silence. Markus looked like he’d spent the last twenty hours throwing up. His skin was pale and his usually spiked hair lay flat and messy. His eyes, sitting atop massive sleep lines, were cold and lifeless; devoid of any kind of spark. Mr. Curtis’s grief-stricken face flashed through my mind. Markus looked just as bad, if not worse than him. Mr. Curtis still seemed to have something he was holding on to. Markus just… looked like he’d given up. He shuffled up to her without saying a word. 

I could immediately feel something strange about him, something that shouldn’t have been visible, something that probably wasn’t perceivable to everyone else but was as clear as a car alarm to me. His connection to… what was it? The Kinetic Realm? Whatever it was that fueled us; his connection was severed. Cut and flowing in the wind like a torn-up basketball net. Everything about him felt wrong. My senses were screaming at me, telling me to stay away from him at all costs. Was it self-preservation? Or shame?

The only change in his expression I caught occurred when his eyes glossed over me. They widened almost cartoonishly, and slowly a scowl began to form at the corners of his mouth. He took a small, unsteady step forward. This didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the students, who quickly glanced my way. Seeming to sense a brewing situation, Mrs. Bittinboulder inserted herself between Markus and the rest of the class.

“Why don’t you sit on the bleachers, Mr. Miller.” She gestured towards the wooden seats. Markus didn’t outwardly respond, instead slowly making his way over to the bench without a word. Once seated he immediately locked his eyes onto me, almost like a predator surveying prey.

Mrs. Bittinbolder dropped the clipboard to her side. “Now, since we haven’t had any new altercations since the semester started, it’ll probably seem odd to do introductions again. But that’s how I prefer to run my class; I want all of you to know what kind of heat everyone else is packing. Fewer surprises lead to fewer injuries lead to fewer inquiries and evaluations. The less paperwork I have to do because someone got a fire-ball in the ass,” she gave a dirty look to one of the kids on my right who, if memory served, most certainly was a pyrokinetic, “the happier I am, which means the fewer laps I make you run. Now, Gabrielle. Would you please come forward?”

Only with a tremendous amount of willpower and a gentle shove from Cass was I able to make it up next to her. She pulled up her clipboard again.

“Alright, already transformed. What’re your powers, young lady?” A round of snickers began and ceased just as quickly with a look from Mrs. Bittinboulder.

“Er, speed,” I stammered.

“Speed?”

“S-super speed.”

Mrs. Bittinboulder wrote something down. “Just super-speed?”

“And agility. And some strength, I guess? I don’t really know how to judge that; when I punch people, they seem to cry out like it hurts a lot?” 

She chuckled. “I’ve heard as much. Won’t be any straight-on punching in here, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So super-speed. Agility. Strength? Standard fare for speedsters, at least as far as I saw with--” She abruptly cut herself off as she began to say Markus’ name and switched to a different train of thought. “N-now, ability test for us, please?”

“Right now?”

“Yes, Ms. McArthur. Now.”

With a curt nod, I turned forty-five degrees from her and the crowd and lowered into a runner’s stance. “Okay, uh, when should I go?”

“I’ll count to three.”

“Sure, that -- wait, on three? Or after three?”

“On three, smart-ass.” A quiet chorus of giggles began to rise from the students.

“Gotcha, so it’s one, two--”

“Three!” Mrs. Bittinboulder shouted. In a blur, I was off. It’s hard to describe the shift that I experienced when I sped up; it was as if everything negative that had taken up so much real estate in my mind instantly melted away. Sounds were muted and arcs of electricity jumped from me like sailors jumping from a sinking ship. Nothing could touch me while I ran, certainly not Kip, his goons, Mr. Garrison, or anyone else. With the energy in my veins pushing me faster and faster, everyone else slowed down by comparison until they were nearly motionless. It was like I’d found a secret little fold in time that was all my own. And finally, finally, I could show off how cool these powers were. Opting for something they hadn’t seen before, I angled towards the wall and kicked up onto it, effortlessly continuing my stride as I began to lap the painted-brick walls. After circling the gymnasium what felt like fifty or sixty times I kicked off the wall towards Bittinboulder. My discharge-filled aura trailed behind me as I came to a shaky halt in front of her.

Impressed gasps filled the gymnasium along with a lone set of hands clapping in applause. Cass rose above the others, now in her demonic form, clapping and hollering boisterously.

“Sorry, still working on the stop,” I smirked between breaths. A minor ache flared up in my ankle. Yeah, better not do fifty laps over four ninety-degree angles again.

“Very impressive, Ms. McArthur. Go join the rest of the class.” More stares followed me as I walked back to Cass, but they felt distinctly different -- less invasive, more impressed. A few people even offered high fives, but Cass pushed them out of the way to wrap me in a beartrap of a hug.

“I knew you could do it!” she exclaimed, her rapidly flapping wings levitating us into the air.

“C-Cass!” I laughed as she moved to the left and right erratically, “Put us down!”

Her pale cheeks and ears immediately turned red. “Oh. Right.” We lowered back down to the floor and quickly stepped away from each other with an awkward cough. Mrs. Bittinboulder shook her head mirthfully.

“Okay, if you two have had enough fun, let's get started.” She explained that we would be playing dodgeball again, as they had during the first day of school. It was as good a way as any to introduce new elements to our group as we had already established it as a baseline exercise. She divided us, Cass, myself, and half of the class on one side and Kip, his crew, and the other half on the other side. She extended her arm towards a basket of balls and closed her eyes. A sparkling blue sphere materialized around the basket and levitated slowly upwards, bending around the metal bars of the basket. The balls, however, rose with her sphere, and once the sphere had worked its way past the basket, began to move towards us. She raised it above the middle of the court.

“Same rules as before. If you’re hit, you’re out. If you catch a ball, you recover a teammate. No purposeful headshots. No destroying the balls. No explosions. No super-strength. No possession.” She backed up until she was off the court. The acrid cry of her whistle filled the air. “Go!” The sphere evaporated into the air, letting the balls drop freely onto the court. 

The difference was stark between watching these games from a distance and taking part in them. My classmates ran for the rubber balls and threw them at each other with, well, not so much reckless abandon. It was more intentioned than that. Despite Bittinboulder’s earlier proclamation, several people did, in fact, get hit in the face, which without fail always ended with a resounding wet-sounding smack. Angus in particular appeared to be a repeat customer of this treatment. Cass and I steadily retreated towards the back of the court. This was her usual strategy during these games, though I wasn’t in any condition to offer up any alternatives. I was struggling to keep my focus up, everyone was moving and shouting and ducking, the strain building in the front of my skull was enormous. I cursed myself for not swiping my goggles while I could before Mom had confiscated them.

“Gabby, you okay?” Cass looked me over.

“Y-yeah. Headache.” I wiped the forming sweat from my forehead. That dull ache in my ankle wasn’t going away, either. This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. As if on cue, a ball flew my way, only missing my head by a fraction of an inch. It slammed against the wall behind us and rolled to our feet. A sickening chorus of laughter bellowed from the other side of the court where Kip, Vince, and Buckley stood. Cass picked up the ball and examined it closely.

“Is this… ice?” she remarked. She held it out for me to see and, sure enough, it was coated in a thin layer of frost.

“Probably to make it harder to catch,” I replied.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Fine, if that’s how they want to play it.” She brought the ball close to her face and opened her fanged-mouth.

“What the -- Cass, don’t eat it!” I scrambled over to her. Before I could snatch the ball away, a tiny flame peeked out from the corners of her mouth and began to run over the ball. Slowly, the flame picked up intensity and turned three sizes bigger. Before long the ball was visibly steaming, leaving me to wonder how it hadn’t popped yet. She smiled and rose into the air in a gust of wind.

“Try this on!” She threw the ball down at the ground towards Kip. Eagerly he raised his arms forward to catch it. Once it was nestled between his fingers, he let out an ear-piercing shriek and quickly dropped it. A follow-up shriek from Bittinboulder’s whistle indicated he was out, a call he grudgingly obeyed. He gave us both the finger as he sulked off the court.

Cass lowered herself back to the ground. “Did you see that? I wiped that smug asshole’s grin right off the--” Her gloating was interrupted by another ball plowing into her stomach, knocking her to her knees.

“Cass?” In a panicked fervor, I looked between Cass and the source of the ball, Vince. He high-fived Buckley and moved towards another ball.

“I’ll… be… fine. Just knocked the air out of me…” She waved me off. “Just kick their butts, please.”

“Could I kick their asses instead?” I smiled. She let out a choked laugh and moved off the court. Despite the reforming sweat trickling down my neck, I’d make them sorry for hurting her. For Cass, if nothing else. I dodged and weaved through the rest of the game as more and more students were hit or had their balls caught. As the team numbers whittled down, it became clear that the opposing team had the advantage over us. Our numbers were dropping faster than theirs despite the presence of the fireball kid and the ghost tentacle girl on my team. It was apparent that a showdown was fast approaching between Vince, Buckley, Kip (who had re-joined thanks to a caught ball) and me, the only person on our team who could evade their throws. That showdown came much quicker than I’d hoped when they each got a final member of my team out, bringing our numbers down to one -- me. I kept to the balls of my feet as they approached.

“Look, only the itty-bitty inverse is left. Bet you wish you’d been nicer earlier, don’t you?” Kip mocked me.

“Oh, sure, I’m constantly riddled with anxiety over the dozens of social faux pas I’ve committed over the years,” I replied sarcastically.

“I meant with us.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Ah, that would be a no, then. I don’t really do niceties when dealing with crappy Jack Frost impersonators.” My headache was beginning to fade, thankfully.

“That’s it. Boys?” Vince and Buckley looked to him. “Let’s ice this freak.”

“Oh shit! He said a cold pun! Only a matter of time, right buddy?” I boasted. They stalked towards me, each with a ball in his hand as they stepped over the court line. I looked to Bittinboulder in shock. She only returned a forlorn look.

“It’s in the rules, they can do that if there’s one player left, Gabrielle.” I took a few steps back as they formed a circle perimeter around me. It wouldn’t be hard to run and grab a ball from the other side of the court. If only I could focus--

Wait. I could focus. With everyone off the court, I could focus as clearly as I needed to. I planted my feet solidly on the ground.

“Not gonna run away like that other dickwad we used to run with? I respect that,” Kip mused.

“Not gonna do you any good, though,” Vince added.

“What, you think I’m scared of you trash-tier bullies? I’ve actually fought Hexecute, you know.”

“More like pissed your pants while other people took care of the problem. I guess it’s time to show Hexecute what he’s missing!” Kip shouted. In unison, they all volleyed their dodgeballs at me. I closed my eyes and exhaled. The sizzle and burn of the energy within my chest intensified and flooded through my veins like an opened dam. When I opened my eyes, I was met with a red dodgeball only inches from my face. It crept forward slowly, like a snail crawling across a tree branch. I surveyed my surroundings. Two others were suspended in mid-air around me, one aimed at my butt and another and the side of my head. I looked past them to Kip and his buddies. They were frozen, stuck in stasis while I stepped outside of the path of their projectiles, just like they had been in the mall. 

An idea struck me; could I move them in the opposite direction? I scratched my head. I didn’t understand physics and momentum enough to say one way or the other. Fuck it, I figured. I grabbed one of the dodgeballs with a shrug and walked it over towards Kip. Wait, was I running? It looked like I was walking, casually even, but my muscles were groaning with exertion like I was sprinting with everything I had. It was curious to watch the electricity dance off my skin in slow motion as I moved in a nearly choreographed manner. I placed the dodgeball in front of his face and let it hang there. Huh. I could get used to this. I gave it a light tap -- enough to get the ball moving at a glacial pace towards Kip -- and did the same with Vince and Buckley. I moved back to where I stood, closed my eyes again and—
WHAP! WHAP WHAP!

Three separate thuds echoed in the space around me followed by the clamor of bodies onto the ground.

“What the fuck?” Kip shook his head.

“Kip, what the hell was that?” Vince roared.

“I don’t know, asshole!” Bittinboulder’s whistle filled the air with another shriek.

“That’s it, game! Gabrielle’s team wins!” she shouted in a gleeful tone. The rest of my team rushed back onto the court and surrounded me with congratulatory shoulder pats and high fives. Cass and Angus joined in, glomping onto me and giving me a thumbs-up, respectively. I didn’t react as Cass shook me, however.

The pain was shooting through me like never before and I felt sick to my stomach. Everyone’s voices started to drown each other out, leaving me unable to make out what they were saying. I absently nodded to whatever they were saying, hoping that would be a sufficient response. What was happening to me? I’d moved that fast before, but it had never led to this kind of reaction. I steeled myself against the pain and tried to shrug it off. Bittinboulder was standing in front of me as my ears started to recover.

“--never seen that kind of speed before, Gabrielle. Congratulations, I look forward to seeing more of what you can do.” She smiled heartily.

“No sweat,” I replied weakly. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. The crowd began to dissipate as students retreated to the locker rooms. Kip and his friends shot me a dirty look before disappearing into the confines of the men’s locker room, a hole in the ground I’d be thankful to never see again. Cass and I started making our way back towards the bathrooms when, to my surprise, Markus blocked our path, his face contorted into a confused grimace.

“How did you do that?” he asked, his voice seeming oddly calm despite his expression.

“The...” I moved my hand around as fast as my arm would allow at the moment, “The really fast thing?” Pain rippled over the muscles in my legs but I stood steady. Markus stepped closer. His eyes, still terrifyingly grey and empty, were unsettling to stare into.

“Yeah. That ‘really fast thing.’” The volume of his voice was quickly rising. “You’ve had your powers for a fucking month. I had mine for two years and I never moved that fast.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I guess I just take to being a speedster really well.” For a fleeting moment, I remembered what he’d done to me before I was open about my powers; the pantsing and dodgeball to the face came to mind. I brushed those thoughts aside, he didn’t deserve any of that right now.

Despite his frail appearance, he closed the gap between us surprisingly quickly and grabbed ahold of my suit. “What makes you so special you get to keep your powers when I lose mine?! Why do you get these extra powers I never had? Who the fuck thinks that’s fair?!” He was full-on screaming in my face. Cass looked worriedly between us, not sure what to do. I would’ve pushed him back, but my shoulders felt like they were on fire.

A slender hand pulled Markus back.

“What do you think you’re doing to Ms. McArthur, Mr. Miller?” Bittinboulder scowled. Markus looked away and shrugged.

“Nothing. Not like I could anyway,” he muttered as he stuffed his hands into his jacket.

Mrs. Bittinboulder dismissed Cass and me after checking that I was alright. Lying, I told her that I was and rushed towards the bathrooms.

Cass followed me in, ecstatic over my last-minute victory. For my part, I was doing my best to not evacuate the contents of my stomach and lend a new green decor to the room.

“Gabby, that was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like that before, not even from Markus,” she exclaimed.

“Well--” I halted my reply as a small, near-silent gag filled my mouth. Everything felt tense. My muscles were rippling all over my body. Fuck, what was happening to me? For her part, Cass didn’t seem to notice. Maybe I was a really good actor?

“I’m so glad you put them in their place! That was incredible!”

“Yeah…” I shut the stall door and leaned against the wall for support. Cass continued to rant and rave while I clutched at my sides. Attempting to find a moment of peace, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. A couple of minutes went by, Cass changing in the stall to my right and me trying not to either throw up or drop to my knees. The pain, which had been spreading like a knife through my muscles only moments before, finally began to quiet. A relieved sigh escaped my lips. With a flash, I was back in my default form. My sports bra protested while re-adjusting to a bigger frame but thankfully didn’t rip. Only faint traces of discomfort remained now; leaving me exhausted and sweating. 

“Er, Gabby, you okay?” Cass asked from beyond the door.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just changing.” Ugh. My guy voice sounded entirely wrong in this room. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. What the hell was happening to me?

 

* * *

 

I was thankful my stomach had returned to proper working order in time for lunch. Grabbing a few extra slices of pizza to quench the hunger I’d worked up, I plopped down at a table with Cass. To our surprise, Courtney, Angus, and Mona approached the table, setting down their trays and taking a seat. They both seemed to know about my inverse powers, and echoed Angus’ reaction from earlier; they were actually pretty supportive and insisted that they would have my back no matter what.

“D-does this mean you’ll switch bathrooms n-now?” Mona questioned in her usual timid voice.

I shot Cass a half-smile. “Do you want to answer this? You’ve got more experience of the two of us.” She rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. Gabby and I--”

“Gabby?” Courtney’s eyes widened. “I love that, it’s got that 90’s flair to it while also being decidedly now.”

Angus gave him a light tap on the shoulder. “Babe, I’ve told you, just say ‘That’s a very beautiful name,’ it’s not hard.”

Courtney feigned hurt. “I know, but I can’t resist. If you’re not getting the undiluted Courtney Marsh, are you really speaking with him at all?”

Angus hung his head. “Why do I even try?”

“G-Gabby?” Mona asked as she adjusted her glasses.

“What’s up?” I replied.

“I like your name. It’s very beautiful.” A beat passed before she smiled. Angus was the first to burst out laughing, followed quickly by Cass and myself. Courtney shook his head. “Har-har, let’s see who’s laughing when I give you all a decidedly rainbow-inspired dye job!” He sulked, though a faint smile was definitely visible underneath his fake frown.

The rest of the day whizzed by pretty quickly. Mr. Burges, my chemistry teacher, kept glancing at me and stumbling over his words as he discussed an upcoming test. You’d think he’d never seen an inverse before. While uncomfortable, it was easy enough to block out while I doodled in my notebook. My civics teacher, Mr. Guyek, was emphatic as he spoke about accepting people different from us, no matter what size or shape or color they came in. He gave me a quick thumbs-up half-way through, one I weakly returned. Mercifully class ended just as he began to talk about being a good ally, allowing me to hurry away from the classroom. I passed by the main office and headed towards the school exit.

“Wait, wait, hold on!” a voice called from behind me. Nurse Prim bounded down the hallway towards me looking more out of sorts than usual. “Gavin, we have an appointment today, do we not?” she said between breaths upon catching up.

“Oh! Yeah, we do. I’m sorry about that, Nurse Prim,” I apologized.

“It’s quite alright, I understand being forgetful more that you might care to know!” she laughed and pushed her glasses by their thin metal rim. She gestured down the hall to the Nurse’s office. “Just a check-up, won’t take long.”

Still feeling weak from earlier, I tried to weasel out of it. “Does it have to be now? School has been pretty tiring today. What about tomorrow?”

“Yes, it does, McArthur.” Mrs. Bittinboulder stepped out from the main office, her eyes giving us a once-over as she approached. Mr. Garrison and a few other teachers were gathered in the office as well, though when he caught sight of me his eyes narrowed. I rolled my eyes and fought the urge to flip him the bird.

Nurse Prim lit up. “Oh, Shan! Didn’t you leave earlier?”

Mrs. Bittinboulder nodded. “Yeah, Minnie had a thing. Didn’t take as long as we figured it would, so I thought I’d head back in to do some paperwork. Is she giving you trouble?” She pointed to me. Immediately a smile sprung to life on my face. Despite her flaws, Mrs. Bittinboulder was quickly becoming my favorite teacher.

“She…?” Nurse Prim looked between us before realization dawned over her features. “Oh, right, inverse. Pronouns.”

Mrs. Bittinboulder thinly concealed a weary look. “Why don’t I come with you two, my classes are done for the day and I need to ask McArthur here a few questions anyway.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know…” Nurse Prim looked nervously at the office and back at us.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine. I was an EMT back in the day, you know.” Mrs. Bittinboulder nudged Nurse Prim.

“Really? My sister used to do something along those lines, too.” Nurse Prim thought for a moment before she seemed to give in. “Alright, it should be fine. But I might need you to wait outside the examination room. I’m only allowed to speak with students and their parents about medical records.”

Mrs. Bittinboulder shrugged. “Fine with me.” Nurse Prim seemed cautiously satisfied and turned towards her office. Mrs. Bittinboulder subtly winked at me as we followed.

Her office was more cluttered than it usually was, several stacks of files and folders were piled atop her desk in a disorganized fashion. I stepped around a few piles she had on the floor as well and noticed a lone clementine in the trash atop an empty vanilla yogurt carton, a single bite taken out of it.

“Getting hit by the review, too?” Mrs. Bittinboulder commented as she picked up a folder.

Nurse Prim nodded sullenly. “Yes, I’m afraid. The board of directors is only giving Mr. Garrison through the end of the week to review our medical records for any other inaccuracies. He gave me two days.”

Mrs. Bittinboulder gave an irritated grunt. “Really? Geez, at least I got the full week to review my records and here I was demanding two. I’m sorry Eliza.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Nurse Prim assured her. “I do my best work under pressure.” I peered around as we walked through the room. It wasn’t as if it was tidy and clean before, but there was still some semblance of order. This was a full-on mess. What were these ‘directors’ looking for?

“No time for lunch, either?” I asked.

“Oh, you have no idea. Maybe next week when I have some time,” Nurse Prim lamented. She ushered me straight to the examination room in the back of her office. Once I sat on the patient table, she pulled out a clipboard and shut the door with a heavy click.

“So, Miss McArthur, how are you doing today? May I call you Miss?” She began to scribble onto the form quickly.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine with me,” I replied with a stammer.

“Good! Now I will need to conduct this evaluation on you in your alter form. Can you please change into it for me?”

“S-sure.” I nodded. Nurse Prim stepped back and adjusted her glasses. Despite the earlier pain, transforming still came easily to me. I readjusted myself on the table and tugged awkwardly at my now ill-fitting clothing. Nurse Prim practically beamed.

“Oh, most excellent, Miss McArthur. A speedster and an inverse under my care, this is certainly a unique situation. I imagine if you ever publicise your supernym and inverse status, you’ll have quite the list of scientists requesting your participation in studies. Do you think that we could --” She seemed to catch herself and settled down. “No, nevermind on that last part. It’s important to remember that you’re still a student, not a volunteer. You’ll only have to worry about your health from me.”

“No problem, I’ve been approached before to say the least.” I shrugged.

“Perfect. And I hope I’m not being too forward, but I will say your alter form is particularly beautiful, Miss McArthur. You most certainly hit the lottery with this combination.”

I looked up at her. “You think?”

“Of course! Being an alter is amazing in and of itself; when your alter form allows for a better quality of life, that’s only icing on the cake. No matter what kind of guff anyone else gives you, remember that you can do something they can’t.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“Be the truest representation of yourself.” She smiled. My gaze drifted towards the floor to hide the blush rapidly forming along my cheeks. 

“But what if there are rules that say I can’t… be myself?”

Nurse Prim sighed. “I’ll share some wisdom with you that my sister Casey shared with me a long time ago. Is that okay with you?” I nodded. “Sometimes... ensuring your happiness means ruffling a few feathers. If you truly think a rule is arbitrary and biased, fight back. Don’t take it sitting down. Prove them wrong.” 

I was left blinking as Nurse Prim began to scribble on her clipboard. I could prove them wrong, couldn’t I? If I wanted to walk in the front door of this school as me, could they even stop me? 

“She sounds smart,” I replied.

Nurse Prim’s eyes grew glassy as she stared vacantly down at her paperwork. “She was incredibly smart.” She proceeded through a full check-up, one more in-depth than she’d done  my first time in this office, as she asked me all manner of questions ranging from my height, weight, and pain sensitivity to sudden abstract thoughts, taste sensitivity, and even my menstrual cycle, to which I responded by retreating into my sweatshirt. Giggling, Prim finished what she was writing on her clipboard and stood up.

“Have you been feeling any kind of pain at all? I know I asked about your transformations, but I figured I’d ask in general terms.”

I bit at my lip, but shook my head. Something in my head whispered, quiet and softly, that telling them about my power issues would be used against me if I ever went full time. I decided to hold my tongue and shook my head.

“Okay, that should be good. I’ll make sure to update your files to show this information.” She turned on her heel and rested her hand atop the door handle before looking back at me.

“What?” I asked after a moment.

She shook herself from whatever trance she was caught in. “It’s nothing. You just remind me of her. Take care of yourself, Miss McArthur.” She opened up the door and flinched at the sight of Mrs. Bittinboulder posed in front of the door, her hand raised to knock. “S-Shan, she should be good for you to speak with now.” Nurse Prim brushed past her and took a seat at her desk and began to open up some files on her computer. 

Mrs. Bittinboulder nodded and turned to me.

“Alright, so--”

“Wait!” Nurse Prim spun around. “Forgot to ask. What’s her power classification?”

With a barely noticeable eye roll, Mrs. Bittinboulder replied, “B3, most likely? Hard to say for sure, I need to see more to give a better classification.”

“Power classification?” I asked.

Nurse Prim spoke up. “It’s a measurement system ranging from A to D based on the type of power an alter has.  For example, minor disguises, increased comprehension or foresight are ranked at D; intangibility, enhanced durability, healing, and flight are ranked C; enhanced strength, super speed, and telepathy are B; elemental control, energy manipulation, and magics would be ranked at A. Actually, anyone with a combination of three powers tends to land in the A range. Above that, well, the more god-like among us would be ranked somewhere in the A+ category.”

“God-like?” I replied.

“People who can rewrite reality with abilities such as time traversal, people who, like Miracle Maiden, have multiple of the powers above but dialed up to 11 and, by extension, mimics,” Prim explained.

“Now you know mimicry’s place on that list is debatable,” Mrs. Bittinboulder cut in.

“Right, right,” Prim grumbled. “Regardless, you pair those with 1, 2, or 3 on a scale from expert to beginner and you have a pretty good idea of what kinda heat someone is packing.”

Something about this system nagged at the back of my mind. It felt eerily similar to the flag hazard system the beach used for undertow, or a hurricane or tornado intensity system.

“This sounds less like a power level thing and more like a threat warning system,” 

“I guess in a way it is,” Nurse Prim sighed. “Not everyone is an alter. Normal humans need to know how dangerous someone is if they start causing trouble and that’s the easiest way to classify that threat.”

Mrs. Bittinboulder agreed. “Hit it on the head. It’s clunky, but it works.” She leaned against the desk as Nurse Prim resumed her work.

“But, well... Shan, are you sure she’s only B3?” Nurse Prim asked again. “Markus had some agility and strength enhancement, too.”

“Eliza, it’s my job to know where this young lady lands.” Mrs. Bittinboulder smiled. Nurse Prim gave me one last lingering glance before she shrugged and and continued writing on her paperwork. For my part, I was floating upon the softest of clouds, euphoric over being referred to in such a way.

Mrs. Bittinboulder began towards the office door and opened it up. “Nice seeing ya, Eliza.”

“You too, Shan. Have a nice night, Miss McArthur,” Nurse Prim waved at me.

I smiled back. “You too.” After changing back into my default form at Mrs. Bittinboulder’s request to avoid alerting the AndrAI, we left Nurse Prim's office and walked together through the school. She led me to the building exit, now devoid of students heading for home. Apparently, our diversion had taken longer than I thought. A few AndrAI followed us through the halls, likely due to their increased security settings.

“Now, I would like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind, Gabby.”

“Uh, sure,” I agreed. “Shoot.”

“How are things for you at home?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she began, “being cisgender and on the LGBT spectrum isn’t easy. It’s harder when you’re trans, too. It’s even harder still when you’re all of that, plus a metahuman cherry on top. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay is all.”

“Yeah, things are fine,” I replied, brushing off her concern. “You know how it goes.”

“No, I don’t.” Bittinboulder looked at me sternly. “How’s your mom taking this? Is she okay with all of it?”

“She’s…” I sighed. “I don’t know, I guess she’s cool with everything? It’s kind of complicated.”

“What about your dad?” she asked.

I felt the color drain from my face. “We’re still figuring that part out.”

She nodded solemnly, a sorrowful glint appearing for a moment in her eye. “I understand that. Some dads are complicated.” We were quiet for a moment, both of us seemed to have our minds occupied with that statement. She let out a rough cough and thrust her hands into her pockets.

“So you’re staying away from the vigilante activities, right, Gabrielle?”

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly popped from my skull. “Yeah, just like you guys told me to.”

“Good.” Her brow started to furrow. “I know running around, jumping from rooftop to rooftop with friends seems like fun and games. I know it feels like this huge source of release in a world where people already deny you so much. But…” Her voice faltered. “But that kind of work is extremely dangerous, Gabby. It only takes one mistake for someone to lose their life.”

“I know, I know, that’s what everyone has been telling me,” I groaned.

Mrs. Bittinboulder stopped at the door and gave me an impatient look. “With good reason, you little smartass. You can ask any one of us; all of us former capes have a reason we dropped them for good. I’ve got one, I know Nurse Prim has one, hell, even Mr. Bayes has one. This isn’t like in the comic books or movies, Gabby. People can die, and they will if you’re careless. Do you understand?”

Despite the overwhelming urge to look away, I sullenly met her gaze. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, your mom will be here in a bit. Go wait outside for her until she arrives. I’ll be keeping an eye on you from the office, so no speeding home, okay, young lady?” Her smile belied her tone as she added that last part, making her come off as more jovial than threatening. I tried to hide a grin.

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Warm autumn sun warmed my face as I rested against the brick facade of the school waiting for Mom. To my surprise, I was joined by none other than Angus, absorbed in a book as he was. Birds flew overhead and perched in the branches of thin, wiry trees planted in front of the school. Judging by their thinness, they were likely planted in the last several years. The juxtaposition between the green of the school campus and the concrete and steel of the tall buildings surrounding the school was something I always found interesting. It was almost like they’d plucked the academy from its upstate New York home and pasted it here in the middle of a bustling city. 

Angus cleared his throat. “So, Gabby…”

“So, Angus,” I repeated back, letting warmth signal clearly in my voice. He closed his book and wandered over.

“Are you waiting for your parents?” he asked.

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Oh, cool. My dad should be getting here sometime soon, too. Didn’t you used to head home right after school before?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. I guess I’m not allowed to go anywhere without a chaperone. I’m an eight-year-old again, apparently.”

“Oof. That sucks.” He winced. “But I think I get it. Hexecute is pretty scary, you don’t want him to get his hands or — well, whatever he uses to suck out powers on you. Is it his hands?”

“Gauntlet, I think. There’s some kind of tech involved, at the very least.”

“God, do you think it’s hooked into him?”

I shook my head. “Nah, he’s just a pansy. Only strikes when he’s sure he’s safe. He probably wouldn’t have the stomach for something like that. At the very least, I’m not scared of him.”

Angus blanched slightly. “Well, I’m terrified of the guy and I hope he stays as far as possible away from me.”

A quiet breath escaped my throat. In reality, I think I might’ve sided with Angus more than I cared to admit.

I bit my lip. Time to change the subject. “Hey, Angus, can I ask you something?”

“Oh, sure!” He nodded enthusiastically.

“So your power, reading minds and all that, you were probably reading my mind earlier in gym class, right?”

He turned his head to the side. “I guess? I’m kind of reading everyone’s minds in gym. I don’t have a very good handle on it yet, not like Cerebello.” He was referencing a somewhat prolific hero from Dallas. Cerebello was a master of the mind, able to make people see things that weren’t there and disguise himself in plain sight.

“He teamed up with Miracle Maiden last year to fight Doctor Detonator, right?” I asked.

His eyes lit up. “Heck yeah! She even said if it weren’t for him, she would’ve been a goner!”

“I take it you’re a bit of a fan of his, then,” I mused.

A hint of embarrassment flashed across his features. “Er, uh, I guess a bit,” he bashfully admitted. “I’m also pretty jealous of you, too, if I’m being honest.”

I turned my head to the side. “Of me? Why’s that?”

He folded his arms and began to pace. “Not in a weird way or anything, I just, well...” he started before devolving into mumbles and stammers that weren’t decipherable.

“Angus.” I grabbed him by the shoulders. “Try again, but in English, alright?”

I—” he sighed. “You seem so comfortable in your alter form, so at home when running around. You seem so happy too. At least, when compared to how sour your aura felt back before this all came out. But my powers—” He hesitated to continue again.

“Yeah?” I leaned down, bringing our eye level closer together.

“They just feel dirty. I feel like a pervert or something reading everyone’s thoughts. I’m afraid that I might hear the wrong thing all the time. I’m afraid I might do the wrong thing because of it. It feels like there’s so much responsibility to my powers and I’m not sure if I can take it some days.” 

I blinked. Without thinking, I pulled him in for a hug.

“Dude, I completely understand that,” I laughed. I wasn’t the only one that felt this weird unease about my powers. Maybe it was wrong, but knowing we shared a mutual discomfort with our lot in life made me feel better about what I was facing.

He looked up at me with unsure eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. You think it’s easy suddenly having boobles on my chest and having everyone look at me, knowing or expecting something from me because of it? It’s awful. That should be my thing to figure out. But it was taken out of my hands. Now I’m getting shuffled into separate changing rooms with Cass because I make people ‘uncomfortable’. I think both of us were dealt a crappy hand, if I’m being honest.” We separated, him taking a few steps back until his back met the school wall.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. Is it weird that that makes me feel better?” He looked up at me.

“Nah, not at all.” I smiled. I wasn’t the only one who felt like they’d been jerked around on a chain by their powers. But that also meant if I wanted to take control, I’d need to do something about it. The energy in my chest rippled in reply as if reading my thoughts. Maybe being Gabby full-time was something I needed to do for myself and ask for forgiveness later. 

We turned back towards the street and didn’t speak for a couple minutes. Feeling emboldened by our earlier conversation, I decided now was an opportune time to speak my mind about some idle thoughts which had been bugging me.

“Can I ask you a weird question? About your mind reading powers.”

“Sure?” he answered cautiously. “Is this about how they relate to you?”

“Er, yeah.” I sighed. “Is my brain the same as a cisgender girl’s?”

“Same as in…?”

“Like, does it feel the same to you? It doesn’t feel like a guy’s brain? I just want to know that I’m not just confused or something.”

He looked lost. “Why would it matter what your brain feels like to me if you see yourself the same way other girls do? You’re you, and you want to be Gabby.”

“Yeah, but I just want to be sure. If I know that I’m the same as, like, Cinney for instance, that kind of informs how I’m going to approach all of this.”

“How so?” he asked.

I looked around as I gathered my thoughts. “If I know my brain is the same as a cis girl’s then I can advocate for myself on a lot firmer ground. I can say ‘to hell with the rules’ and just be me.”

His expression was thoughtful as he considered my words. “Well, I’m sorry to say that I can’t really tell if your brain is the same as Cinney’s, or Cass’, or even my mom’s for that matter. I also don’t think you need some sort of scientific backing to have faith that you’re right about your identity. Not that some people would accept a mind scan from me as evidence anyway. But--” His expression changed, more care and emotion coming through now. “But I can tell you one thing. You definitely seem a lot happier this way. Isn’t that enough?” A single thought ran through my mind in response. 

It is enough.

A car horn snapped me from my thoughts. Mom’s car waited in the parking lot turnaround.

“Think about it, Gabby. Court, Mona and I will have your back no matter what.” Angus waved as I entered the car.

“Who’s that young man?” Mom asked. I buckled in and watched out the window as we pulled away. 

“A friend.”

 

* * *

 

We rode along the highway towards the suburbs, neither of us really maintaining any semblance of a conversation long enough for the other to engage. My feet kicked up on the dark plastic dashboard, I tried to lose myself in the swirling colors of the sunset in the distance. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Mom cleared her throat.

“Gav-Gabby, I would like to apologize,” she stated in a slow, methodical tone. 

I turned to her. “For what?”

She winced as she spoke. “For starters, how I was acting this morning. That wasn’t a very tactful way to approach our situation, I admit, and I shouldn’t have placed that burden on you. I’m sorry for not being better. I wish I’d seen this in you earlier. Maybe I did and convinced myself otherwise. Certainly seems like something I would’ve done.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I wish I could have sat you down as a little girl in front of my vanity, pulled your hair back into little pigtails and gave you a light coating of make-up, something a little girl would think was regal. I would’ve told you what a truly beautiful princess you were, just like how I’d say you’re a beautiful young woman now.” Her eyes were beginning to well up as her knuckles began to whiten while gripping the steering wheel.

“I so desperately want to go back and conk myself on the head and talk to you earlier about this, so you wouldn’t have had to suffer as much as you did. That’s my fault, Gabrielle. And… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t hesitate, I immediately flashed into my alter form and wrapped my arms around her.

“J-Jesus!” she yelped; the car swerved into the next lane as she tried to correct for the blinding flash of light and enhanced strength glomp I’d just inflicted onto her.

“Sorry!” I clambered back to my seat as she settled us back into a stable trajectory.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, just don’t do that again! It’s super distracting,” she laughed uncomfortably.

“Well, excuse me for hugging my mom when she’s about to make me cry,” I said in mock indignation.

“Happy cry?” she asked.

I laughed. “Happy cry.” Slowly, throughout the ride home, we began to talk more and more. We discussed how she’d figured out who I was the night of Sammy’s concert, about how I was a lot worse at hiding my odd activity than I’d thought, about how many times she’d almost blurted out what she knew. But she’d always held back, afraid to burst the bubble too soon. For my part, I admitted that I’d been stealing Jules’ clothes for years, a fact she confirmed she already knew. When I asked why she’d never confronted me about it, she said it was just a feeling she had; she had a feeling there was more to it than the clothes themselves. 

She even cranked up the music when a song by her favorite musician, Jim McGraw, began to play, joking about how he was her country-boyfriend. It was nice; I felt like I was a part of an honest-to-goodness mother-daughter relationship. Before I knew it, we were pulling into the driveway. I stepped out of the car along with Mom and slung my backpack over my shoulders and joined her on the front steps.

“About time we talked to the twins,” I said. As if on cue, a midnight blue Audi came to a reckless stop near the curb. My heart sank.

Dad.