Title: Never Gonna Give You Up
Rating: M for strong language, sexual situations, and violence
Summary: So there's this new chick, right? She's a babe and all, but she's getting in the way of my business. I can't have some girl up in my turf. I'll get rid of her before that happens. LashOC
Note: Sky High belongs to its proper owners and I am only a girl with a creative imagination.

"I hear she's from Hero High." Will whispered, glancing between the girl and his group of friends. They had never really had a transfer student. There had been Frederick from Germany, but he had only visited for a week. Fortunately as his big mouth and power to know people's darkest secrets had been royally upsetting. The group chattered amongst themselves feeding off the excitement that spewed out of the rumor mill.

"I heard that she was grown in a petri dish by Mr. Medulla." Said Zach, leaning towards Layla with a juvenile grin smeared on his face. His bleach blonde locks bobbed up and down, nodding to the adventurous claim.

"I heard that you were out of your mind." Magenta scoffed. It was so predictable of him. By this time, she shouldn't be fazed by his antics at all. "I bet that was a nightmare you had after watching some cheesy scarefest." Her childish mocking tone didn't disrupt his joyous nature.

"SILENCE!" hollered their gym teacher. The students quickly reacted with grimaced faces and covered ears. Coach Boomer was very well known for his mouth. And maybe those too short shorts. "As you kids probably know by now, we've got a slab of fresh meat. Get up here and show us your moves, Wallace."

"Her name is Wallace?" A nearby student remarked to his friend.

Damnit. The girl swept one of her brown curls behind her left ear and hesitantly made her way onto the circular platform. It wasn't difficult to make her way through the crowd as there wasn't any. The students hadn't warmed up to her and were still giving her the treatment suitable of a leper. Standing up there, she could feel every pair of eyes boring into her and her heart began to race. If she hadn't been so fair skinned, she was sure that her face would've paled. Fake it, until you make it. With a low breath, the girl swung her head to right and gave a girly grin to the audience.

"What can you do, kid?" Boomer adjusted the cap on his head and poised his pen to the clipboard, ready to scribble. This girl had sidekick written all over her, head to toe. He knew it. Hell, he shouldn't have to wait through her boring performance to label her.

"Well, I can kill people with my mind."

"What?"

"Mind control, sir." She yelled over the crowd reverberating with surprise and alarm. Why had she already sabotaged her reputation here? She didn't need this; it was only the first day. What she really needed was to keep her big mouth shut. Play it safe, that's what.

"Hmm," the coach grunted, his eyebrows rose at her scrawny frame. He couldn't say that he expected such power from Brunette Barbie. "It's been decades since we've had one of you around." He would have to keep his eye out on this-glimpsed down on the profile before him-Brigit. The man noted something on the paper then stretched his arms out wide. "Bring it on."

"Dude, you think she's gonna kill Boomer?"

"Shut up, I wanna see this!"

Her hand shot to her left wrist clutching onto the wide black band adorned with a bright blue jewel that flickered under the luminescent lights of the building. The girl flung it as hard as she could, up to the gym's high ceiling. The students' eyes followed it hard until their sight dropped swiftly to the whack below. Another. And another. Then a last muted one. The clipboard lay silently on the ground next to the gym teacher's tennis shoes. Just as the students were beginning to question each other about what the hell was going on, their coach had fallen to his elbows and knees. Hysterical sobbing erupted from the man, his whole body heaving with emotion. Calloused hands ran maniacally through his dark hair, over and over again. The room echoed with his stifled swears and cries. The girl lifted her arm upwards and let the bracelet slide delicately onto it. Just as fast as it had begun, it ended.

Boomer's sputtering cut off roughly, deep coughs arriving from the back of his throat. His breathing hitched with them and the hot sniffling. Slowly, the damaged man rose to his feet, wiping his face with the sleeve of his track jacket. Dropping his arm, everyone could now see his tired and darkened face amid puffy eyes that were ringed with red. His head pointed down at the linoleum floor, he muttered one word. Hero. She didn't deserve to have that right. She would just end up like the last of her kind. Before anything else could happen, the gym teacher was already on his way down to the locker rooms, down to his office. He needed his flask and he needed it now.

This was going to be one hell of a year.