Disclaimer: I don't own this shit. That will be all.

Chapter 1

As usual, I was awake at five on the dot. No alarm necessary. My body had this revenge cycle going on. I would push it, staying up till two or three in the morning, then it would wake me up at five.

Eh, I learned to survive on minimal sleep from an early age.

I sat against my headboard and blindly pushed play on my iPhone. My phone screamed out the lyrics to an extremely inappropriate 3OH!3 song, and I quickly plugged in my headphones. Crap. Technology was out to get us all.

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and pulled on the clothes I had laid out the night before after my shower. The outfit was simple, dark jeans that hugged my legs, red top that made my boobs look good, flame resistant leather jacket. I decided to dress up a little bit for my first day and slipped on some black heels.

Ah, my first day. I was dreading Power Placement.

Rumors were around that another pyro was in our class. Perfect.

I grabbed a big leather tote that would double as my book bag and headed down stairs. I made myself a cup of black coffee and added a single spoonful of sugar. I really was a morning person, but the idea of eating and hour after you woke up did not settle well with me. So I stuck with coffee.

I pushed all the light brown hair on my head to the left side and slid on the dragon necklace I had left on the counter. I gazed at my reflection in the microwave and felt a wave of guilt. I wanted to leave the house before my mom saw what I was wearing. The dark colors contrasted greatly with my stick straight light hair and sweet blue eyes.

And I knew I was anything but sweet.

I clicked down the hall and swung open the door, yelling a quick good-bye to my sister who was groggily walking down the stairs.

She got to wake up late and go to a normal high school. As my grandma would say, lucky duck.

I shoved the phone into my back pocket and slipped the white headphones into my ears. The walk to the bus stop was short, but I was surprised that I hadn't tripped and fallen on the unforgiving cement yet.

Two boys were waiting at the stop. One was short and stocky, the other tall and lean. They were doing that play fight/wrestling thing that guys did and I rolled my eyes. It was just getting light out, and the bus was still to be seen. The short and stocky guy looked up at me and wolf whistled. He got up at lightning speed and plucked the right bud out of my ear and placed it in his.

The taller guy reached him arm out to an unnatural length and plucked out the left one.

"Well, then, what are we listening to? Some Taylor Swift maybe?" They both cringed as the blaring lyrics of a Hollywood Undead song met their eardrums. They all so willingly put the buds back into my outstretched palm.

The tall guy flipped his hair out of his eyes. "I'm Lash, this is Speed. What's your power?" Not even my name? Asshole. I put the buds into my ear and flipped him off, lighting my middle finger on fire. A glint of anxiety lit up in their eyes and I smiled innocently, lowering my hand as the bus pulled up.

They still looked slightly nervous and let me onto the bus first. I took a seat near the middle on the left side and placed my bag on the seat next to mine, lest either of them got the wrong idea. We went around to a few other bus stops, and at the last one, a boy with long dark hair and combat boots got on. He had a messenger bag over one shoulder and a look that could kill.

I'm guessing he was the other pyro.

And unfortunately for me, the last empty bus seat was right behind me.

He swung into the bench and off the glare of the window, I could see his reflection. His actions mirrored mine, headphones in, with his head against the window. His hair fell in front of his face, hiding his features. I pressed my nails into my thigh at the nagging part of my mind, begging to read his thoughts. I resisted, figuring that if the guy wanted to keep his air of mystery and if he wanted to be left alone, then who was I to judge and invade?

After all, I wanted the same thing.

We began down a construction ramp, and a harness-like belt contraption slid over my chest. We were thrown off the edge of the unfinished stretch of road. I kept my face smooth of emotion, but gripped the bar in front of me till my knuckles were white.

Well, whiter than usual.

I glanced in the window reflection again, and noticed that although his face was still hidden, the guy's hands were in the same position as mine. With a rush of curiosity, I also noticed a peek of a flame tattoo under his sleeve.

He was probably only fifteen at the most, because something told me that he wouldn't be one to flunk out.

So that was totally illegal, right?

I didn't really have time to mull over the situation as the bus landed with a jolt on top of a floating school. That's pretty cool. We all attempted to pile off, and I was one of the few that weren't threatening to puke their guts up. We started the normal flow of people trying to get off the bus, and the flame-tattoo-guy almost ran me over trying to get off. I slipped out at the right time and he stopped on his heel to avoid starting a domino-effect of falling bodies.

"Move girl." He commented in a gruff voice. Well, it was gruff for a freshman. I turned my back to him and waited for the people in front of me to start moving at anything other than the speed of stop. He grabbed my arm and spun me around, lighting his other hand on fire, trying to threaten me.

Suspicions confirmed. This was the other pyro.

I must have looked bored, because the flame started to glow brighter and travel up his wrist. I did the same thing that I did with the guys earlier and lifted my middle finger, lighting it on fire. He extinguished his flame and lowered his grip on my arm. He raked tan fingers through his shoulder length hair, pushing it away from his face.

Strong jaw, super dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a faint darkening of the skin over his chin, telling me that he had probably started shaving already. The only thing out of place was the single line between his eyebrows as a glint of confusion crossed his face. Guess he didn't get the memo. I let my flame evaporate and stuffed the hand in my pocket, turning around.

He was kind of hot. Not the BAM! sort of hot that most jocks possessed, but the slow kind of hot that creeps up on you and one day you realized you're in love with the guy.

And that was a very dangerous kind of hot.

The line finally started moving, and I was grateful, because I could feel the inquisitive stares that were boring into my hair.

Yet again, I was amazed that I hadn't totally wiped out in these shoes. Bus stairs are tricky.

We all clumped together in a loose group and a tall blonde boy wearing a pink sweater vest introduced himself as Matt, the head of the welcoming committee.

Matt led us to the gym and we were greeted by Principal Powers, in all her skirt suited glory. She gave us a speech about the school, rules, regulations, standards, and finally, Power Placement. She left in a white ball of light, and Matt flew after her, still in a human form, leaving us alone. We all sprung around at the sound of machinery. I, being at the back of the group when Powers gave her speech, was suddenly the first to encounter the bare and pale knees of our gym teacher and Power Placement guide, Coach Boomer.

He gave a short intro and Sonic-ed us for the first time. I held my ground, as did a few others, and let the wave push my hair back from my face. He called up a guy who could make tornadoes out if thin air and some dust and dirt; he was labeled a hero. A petite girl who could shift into a hummingbird was doomed to the title of sidekick.

Or hero-support if you were politically correct.

He called me up and I took the stairs up to the platform with confidence.

"State your name and power."

"I'm Kendra Sharpe. Pyrokinetic and mind reader."

"Huh, okay, power up."

I had been practicing. I lit a small flame in the palm of my hand and took in a huge breath. I blew on the flame as if I was blowing out a candle, but instead of going out, it grew. The flame took on a slender shape and transformed into a dragon, spreading out to take up a ten foot wingspan and fly over the heads of my soon-to-be-classmates. They all ducked except for flame-tattoo-guy who just stared at me in anger. The heat was incredible, and I saw the Coach sweating. It exploded on the other end of the gym in an array of orange sparks.

Everyone looked at me in awe, except for flame-tattoo-guy, who was glaring at me. Coach Boomer collected himself.

"Okay missy, let's see your mind reading skills. What am I thinking of?"

"You were thinking about dropping the car on my dragon to see if I could handle it." He nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard.

"Hero!" I smiled and made my way back to the group. A girl smiled at me. A boy with dorky glasses patted my back.

I resumed my original position and Boomer pointed to someone to my right. I looked over and lo and behold, flame-tattoo-guy walked up.

"State your name and power."

"Warren Peace. Pyrokinetic. No, I don't read minds."

"Power up." The Coach looked considerably less pleased with this boy Warren, and he had his lips in a hard line.

Flame-tat…., sorry Warren, flicked his wrists together as if they were flint and his arms lit on fire.

Out of nowhere the Coach yelled, "Car!" My eyes widened and Warren took a casual step back, missing being crushed by an inch. The car was pretty nice, probably once a racecar, but everything started go downhill fast as Warren thrust one of his hands through the pane-less window. His fist glowed as the interior of the car caught on fire. It was a small blaze, but he jumped off the platform, shaking the flames from his hands. He gestured for the tall girl running toward the fire extinguisher to stop.

She froze in her tracks and he turned his concentration back to the vehicle. He gazed at the flame, and it started to grow unnaturally fast. The car blazed for another few seconds before it imploded.

Coach mumbled, "Hero…" He sounded like he wanted to say something along the lines of "villain".

The girl abandoned her instructions, running towards the fire extinguisher. She was too late though, as another girl stepped forward. She had white blonde hair and dark grey eyes.

"Jenny Edwards. Ice-queen." A flurry of ice shot out of her open palms and encased the car, effectively putting out the flames.

Coach Boomer grudgingly named her a hero, and the car was lifted back up to the ceiling. Everything was pretty boring after that, and only a few more heroes were called out. The bell rang and Boomer ordered us to lunch, telling us to come back to finish up Power Placement when the next bell rang. I turned and made my way to the cafeteria, which we had passed on our way to the gym.

I didn't eat school lunch. Period.

And in my haste this morning, I forgot one. I sighed in defeat and fished my iPhone and a random fashion magazine out of my bag. I had gotten to the cafeteria before most of the people, so it wasn't hard to find a barren table. I sat down at the far corner and put in my headphones. I cranked the Nickelback song that was playing and checked my watch. Forty minutes to do nothing.

Fabulous.

I was about a quarter of the way through the magazine when I felt a presence sit across from me. I looked up through my lashes, and much to my dismay, Lash and Speed sat down. I sighed and ignored the two boys, holding the magazine to block their faces. Lash reached across and pulled on the top of the offending literature, wanting to see my face. I pulled out an ear bud with a bored expression on my face.

"Hey there Kendra." I eyed his obvious cocky smirk and, for this moment only, let my mind reach out to his.

Sup mind reader?

I was met with an unsettling mental picture of me in nothing but a bra and underwear. My expression settled on murderous, and I let my hand catch on fire.

"What do you want, asshole?"