People say High School is weird. I say life is weird. All that High School does is prepare you for life, and if life is anything like High School, we, are screwed. To top it all off? I'm not even in a normal High School. Oh no. I'm just starting my senior year in Sky High, the school for super heroes. Joy.

Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy having control over kinetics, it's just as someone once said 'With great power comes great responsibility' and that's the part I don't think I'm going to enjoy. I mean, I've gotten into detention so many times in the past few years for using my power 'irresponsibly' that it's untrue.

Apparently though, this year is the year it all changes and I have to 'grow up'. God forbid.

Anyway, it's time for me to stop lying in bed and get changed. At least that's what my brothers' alarm clock seems to think. Seriously, a nuclear bomb could land on his bed and he wouldn't wake up. Well, he wouldn't because he'd be dead, but you get the picture. Nope, our Jamie is a heavy sleeper, instead lucky old me gets to be the one to wake him up.

So I crawl out of my bed in the large T-Shirt I stole from Warren years ago. Warrens my neighbour, fellow senior and best friend. He's antisocial, with a bad attitude and a worse temper. I've had more burns from him than I care to admit, but admittedly I have exploded several things of his over the years, and so, we stick together. He's a pyrokinetic and we've been friends since I moved, let's see, Jamie would have been 19 and he's 25 now. Wow. 6 years, I guess time really does fly. Anyway, I crawl out of my pit before going into Jamie's room to shut the bloody alarm clock up.

Before I even attempt to wake Jamie up, I am preparing coffee, the saviour of all that is good and true. In case you can't tell, I'm not a morning person. After burning my hand on the kettle twice and accidently exploding a spoon, I manage to make two large cups of coffee. After drinking, or inhaling, depending on your viewpoint, them both, I make a third cup for Jamie, a morning ritual, before deciding to actually get changed and ready for school. Eurghh.

Returning to my hovel of a bedroom, I realise that the wardrobe that I call my floor is looking rather sparse. Jamie must have finally decided to do some laundry. Its part of our deal, I do the dishes and occasionally try to cook and he does the laundry and the vacuum cleaning. It's only me and him now, our Dad, a civilian, took off after he found out Mom was a Super and me and Jamie had powers as well. Then Mom went MIA, presumed dead, when Jamie was 18. He spent the year fighting for custody of me and we moved to the other side of the tracks in Maxville.

That's when I met Warren Peace.

Anyway, I'm getting distracted. Due to the lack of clean-ish clothing I once again have to forage a pair of scruffy jeans and an old band tee. Running through to the bathroom, I wash my face and add just a bit of eyeliner before surveying myself critically. Dark brown hair with blue streaks, fading, I'll have to remedy that soon, brown eyes that glared back at me, a pimple the size of Mount Vesuvius hiding beneath my fringe, gah-the troubles of a teenager-, overall scruffy demeanour in various shades of blue (jeans, hair streaks etc.) and black (T-Shirt, eyeliner and sneakers). Skinny arms poking out of said T-Shirt and scrawny legs showing though the various holes in the dark jeans. That's a side effect of my powers though. My body messes with kinetics, which has increased my metabolic rate, so even if I eat quite a lot, my body burns it all up really quickly. I'm kind of like Gambit from the X-Men except I don't throw things to make them explode, I just seem to connect with the object either physically or mentally and it goes boom. It can cause problems when I'm half asleep and I brush against something without thinking. Going back to the mirror I continue the survey whilst brushing my teeth. It will do. I won't win any beauty contests but who gives a damn.

Finally I have to wake up Jamie, which is no easy feat. Best way to do it is to place the still hot coffee cup underneath the air vent and shout loudly "CAWFEEE!" in a really crappy New York accent. I got half way up the path before realising that I left my battered messenger bag behind, which created 10 minutes if frantic searching underneath the semi-watchful eye of my brother who was inhaling his coffee with increasing vigour. To think he's supposed to be the mature one, I can hardly talk though, I did exactly the same about twenty minutes ago.

Eventually I found it, underneath my bed, with my lunchbox from last year in it. Gross. I told Jamie we shouldn't buy apples anymore. After finding my bag and my summer work, which was done for once, I ran like hell out of the door before running into Warren's arms as he was reaching to open my door. Feck. I forgot that he said he'd walk with me to the bus. Ah well.

"Hi Warren" I grinned sheepishly as we both picked ourselves off the ground.

"Hey Jennie" He replied rolling his eyes. That's me by the way. Jennifer Parry. Jennie to Warren, Jen to the world and Jennifer when I'm in trouble.

"Err...Sorry about that."

He said nothing, merely rolling his eyes before practically dragging me to the bus stop. Damn him and his long legs, I'm not that short, but even at 5ft7, he towers over me by about 8 inches. I only just reach his chin. Not long after we arrive at the bus stop, it arrives and we ascend.

"Hey Mistah J" We greet the bus driver, well, I greet and Warren grunts, just as we have every day for the past four years. John, the bus driver just nods back and sets off as we sit in our regular seat near the back of the bus, right hand side, four from the rear.

"Have I ever told you that..." I begin before Warren interrupts.

"Calling him Mistah J makes you feel like Harley Quinn" He raises an eyebrow before continuing "Only once a week since we were freshies"

I can't help but grin at the predictability of this. Soon we settle into our typical routine. I ask him pointless questions before he finally gives up and shoves an ear bud at me, when we spend the rest of the drive and consequential flight in companiable silence, listening to a mix of heavy rock and indie/punk/rock. I swear I have as many songs as he does on that battered old iPod. Finally the bus lands and we step out ready for our final year at Sky High.

Who am I kidding? We aren't ready at all.

Okay guys, this is my first Sky High story, its probably going to be Warren/OC but not for a little while as I abhore stories that have them falling in love within three paragraphs :P I know I haven't updates my other stories in a while, but Georgie, my plot penguin (he ate the bunny) has been sliding around in my brain for about a month now. Besides I only have two more exams and then I am done with High School! Don't know whether or not to be pleased or what at that. Anyway, please read and review, tell me what you think, I'm trying to avoid writing a Mary Sue, so be honest, I can handle the truth. Virtual hugs to all reviewers xx

Hannah
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