Chapter One – Take My Temperature

You should take my temperature
My god, I'm too unwell to be here hey, hey, hey
You can take my temperature
'Cause I'm a hundred degrees in the shade over here

~ Kaiser Chiefs ~

It was the last weekend of summer vacation, and the weather forecast had promised it would be a good one. Looking out through her bedroom window, Roma Oppugn could see they weren't lying: the sun was shining brightly in the sky, and the temperature was already rising even though it was barely past ten in the morning. There were definitely quite a few advantages to living in Southern California; the abundance of nice days being one of them.

With a small smile, the fifteen-year-old girl turned to her laptop and pressed one of the volume controls to turn up the music. As one of her favorite bands played in the background, she finished getting dressed, picking out light denim shorts, a white tee with the outline of a bicycle on the front, and her favorite earrings – the ones that looked like antique buttons; she'd found them at a small thrift store in New York City while visiting her grandparents earlier that summer. Quickly and carelessly, Roma gathered all of her long, light blonde hair in a messy ponytail. On her way out, after shutting off the laptop, she grabbed a leatherette bracelet from her dresser.

Roma tried to keep thoughts of school and tenth grade in the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the last couple of days before the new academic year started. It wasn't that she disliked school – reading, writing, studying were some of her favorite things to do. The problem with Maxville High School was the tension between different social cliques. Roma and her two best friends thought it was pointless to keep up with it, so they didn't join any particular group. Their refusal to join a clique turned the three into outcasts. It didn't bother them much.

Being an average teenager was perfectly fine with Roma, and she did her best to make sure people would see her that way too. The blonde girl was something of an avid rock climber, but other than that she stuck to less unorthodox hobbies – such as reading, hanging out with her friends, watching movies or downloading more songs than she'd ever have time to listen. Her looks got her enough attention as it was.

"Hi, daddy!" Roma greeted her father as she walked into the open layout kitchen, her second favorite spot in the house. "How was your night?"

Silas Oppugn stopped arranging cooking utensils inside a carrying case to offer his daughter a smile. He was getting ready for his weekly Brazilian culinary class. As the head chef of Vie, the fanciest and most expensive restaurant in Maxville, he often came home late at night – but he still managed to be a present father and get his freelance writing done in time. He kissed the top of Roma's head as she walked past him to get some orange juice from the fridge.

"Long. The Commander and Jetstream stopped by for a late dinner," Silas said with a casual wave of his hand, as if those weren't two of the greatest superheroes in the entire world. "How come you didn't sleep over at Claudia's?"

"No reason, really. We're meeting at Slide today and having lunch together afterwards. Trick's coming too."

"Do you need money or a ride?"

Roma turned down the money, but accepted the ride, knowing that her father wouldn't have to go out of his way to drop her off. Slide was a second-hand music and bookstore, where she spent a lot of her free time. She didn't mind walking there, as she lived only twenty minutes away from downtown Maxville, but getting a ride there would give her extra time to browse the aisles. Her best friends enjoyed the browsing too, but she could outlast the two. That's why they often came up with silly tasks for her, like finding books on obscure topics of ridiculous album covers. It was a surprise to see someone waiting for her when she arrived there.

Patrick Wenner was a six-foot tall young man with blue eyes and dark blonde hair that was always perfectly messy. He had the tormented rock star look going for him, effortlessly attracting swarms of admirers who simply couldn't understand why he liked hanging out with two geeky girls so much. He was a bit of an idealist with a rebel's wardrobe, frequently in ripped jeans, old Converses, and logo t-shirts underneath one of his usual leather jackets. He was a year older than Roma, but they were in the same grade – Patrick had been held back after spending what should've been his seventh grade year living in Sweden with his parents.

"You're late."

"Nah," she drew out the word, shrugging casually. "You're the one who's early, Trick."

"Whatever, Rio."

They never called each other by their names. While most people referred to him as Pat, she'd chosen to call him Trick. And he called her Rio in honor of the first time they met, on the first day of eighth grade. She'd accidentally hit him with a pudding cup, and they had unwittingly started a food fight after he'd dumped someone's Caesar salad on her head. In the principal's office, the man had used her full name when chastising her for the bad behavior. Patrick noticed that the initials in Roma Isabel Oppugn happened to spell the title of his favorite Duran Duran song, so he'd decided to call her that.

The memory made her smile, but any sign of fondness promptly left her face when the young man took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of a jacket pocket. Roma gave him a pointed look as he fished a cigarette out. When he motioned to light it up, she swiftly snatched the offending item away from his mouth and crumpled it up. He wasn't happy either when he saw his ruined cigarette go in a nearby trashcan.

"Do I need to remind you that each damn cigarette you smoke takes away six minutes of your life?" the girl spewed out one of the many negative facts about smoking that she had memorized. "Besides, I thought you said you quit."

"I said I tried quitting," he reminded her with an annoyed look on his face, the same one he wore when she called him out on his unhealthy habit. "Didn't really work out."

"Try harder. You're not smoking around me. It's bad for you, and second-hand smoking causes just as much damage."

"Good old Rio, always worrying and taking care of people. You should be a superhero."

Although Patrick had a smile on his face, teasing her, Roma couldn't come up with a reply. Despite the fact that they lived in a time when superheroes and supervillains were almost commonplace, she still felt uneasy when they were mentioned. The girl cracked her knuckles, trying to repress any thoughts about the power she'd spent nearly all her life trying to ignore. She knew if she thought about it, memories of her mother and her actions would pop in her head too.

Once he realized the effect of his words, Patrick frowned slightly. They had been best friends for the most part of the last few years, and he was one of only a handful of people that knew the real identity of Roma's mother. More importantly, he was one of only three people that knew about the girl's superability. He apologized quietly in an attempt to smooth things over and move on from the awkward situation.

The uncomfortable moment was interrupted by Claudia Babcock's arrival. Roma and she had been best friend since they were seven years old, when her doctor parents decided to move the family from their hometown in India to the United States. Claudia was about three inches shorter than Roma, with jet black, straight hair that reached down a little past her breasts, and big, almond-shaped brown eyes. Her skin was perpetually tanned, causing quite a few people to be envious of her color.

Claudia's style and personality was much more romantic and delicate than Roma's. The Indian girl's hair was brushed to perfection, without a single streak out of place. Her floral skirt had tones of red, pink, and peach, nicely matching the tank top, shoulder bag and Steve Madden wedges she wore. She had spent some time on her makeup too, as her long lashes were curled and thick. Roma hadn't bothered doing much with her hair or face. She hadn't even thought of putting on lipstick – the few makeup items she owned were mostly forgotten in a drawer in her bathroom.

"Hiya, peeps. You guys are early."

"Maybe you're just late," Roma suggested, giving her best girl friend a quick hug.

"Sup, Bab?" Patrick asked, pounding fists with her.

"My dad raised my allowance, so I'm paying lunch to celebrate!" she announced with a big smile. "Just don't eat too much, okay?"

"You are so kind, my lady," Patrick said, opening the store's front door. "After you."

Claudia curtsied before walking in, the other two following behind her. The place was as familiar to them as their own homes. Nearly every wall in the locally-owned store was covered by posters or shelves full of products: books, music in different formats, posters and many other trinkets. They had opened a café inside the store a few months before, what had proved to be a great decision. The owner had agreed to have a post board in the café, so local musicians and bands could advertise themselves and their services. It had become a part of the three friends' routine to check the board before leaving.

Over the summer, both Patrick and Claudia had gotten temporary jobs at Slide. She'd worked in the café, learning how to be a barista, and slipping free iced coffee to her best friends on occasion, just frequently enough that her boss wouldn't mind or be upset about it. Patrick had worked in the music section, quickly becoming one of the favorite staff members. When he told the girls that he'd been asked to become a permanent part-time employee during the school year, they hadn't been that surprised. The guy was a music geek.

As soon as they stepped inside, one of Patrick's co-workers greeted them by name and held out a copy of some metal band's new album. The blonde boy quickly went over to inspect the compact disc, starting a conversation about the band's more mature sound with the Goth-looking girl. Claudia just shook her head in amusement before heading to the classical music aisle, at the same time Roma walked over to check the alternative rock section. She planned to browse through the books too; using her time carefully was of the utmost importance.

Two hours and three purchases later, the trio finally decided it was time for lunch. Claudia suggested a Chinese spot called Paper Lantern, saying her parents took her there all the time. Patrick perked up on the spot, adding that he knew the place too and could go for their pork fried rice. Even though Roma openly favored Japanese and Ethiopian cuisine, she agreed to go. The walk to the restaurant was pleasant, filled with light banter over their purchases and completely different tastes in music and books.

When they arrived at the Paper Lantern, Claudia was the first one to go inside, smiling when a bell rang to announce their entrance. It was one of those nice, little neighborhood restaurants. Most of the decoration was in red or imitated traditional Chinese prints. The lighting wasn't the best though, and Roma thought they could definitely use a few more lamps or windows around. There was a small crowd in the place: a few couples in romantic lunch dates, three men in business suits looking sour for having to work on such a nice day, a rather big Asian family celebrating someone's birthday, and a group of six teenagers.

Without missing a beat, Claudia took the lead and walked to the table right next to the teen group. That could only mean she'd seen a cute guy. Roma chuckled to herself and went after the Indian girl, Patrick following in her heels. Within a foot of the table, she came to a sudden stop. Patrick bumped into her, asking if everything was alright. She barely registered his words, as an unsettling feeling seemed to creep up on her. Her body was tingling. It kind of felt the same as when her foot fell asleep, but softer and more insistent. There was also a faint buzzing in her ears, as the restaurant began to suddenly feel warmer.

Roma knew what the tingling feeling meant, even if she hadn't felt it for nearly a year and a half. That kind of tingling only happened when she used her power and absorbed people's abilities. In the beginning, right after she first came into her power, she would also feel dizzy and nauseated, because her ability was out of control. The girl would simply stand next to someone and be able to mimic any, all of their skills. Those symptoms passed once Roma learned how to suppress her power.

That wasn't supposed to be happening. She had practiced her power long enough to figure out how to ignore it, how to pretend she couldn't do anything more special than climb up rocks. Roma felt her face heat up and palms sweat. She didn't understand why her body temperature seemed to be rising, and couldn't explain the buzzing in her ears. If her power was acting up without her doing it, it could only mean one thing and…

"Rio! Are you alright?" Patrick asked loudly, snapping his fingers beside her ears.

"Sorry," she snapped out of it and spoke out the first lie she could think of: "I just thought I saw a butterfly fly around."

"Don't worry; I'm here to protect you from the evil butterflies."

Patrick dropped an arm around her bony shoulders and crossed the short distance to the table by her side. Claudia couldn't resist making a joke when she saw him pull up the chair for Roma to sit on, before he took the seat next to the blonde. They were still laughing when a waitress appeared to hand them menus and get their drink order. Claudia propped her menu in front of her face, but did a poor job of hiding the fact she was watching the teens sitting next to them with interest. Normally, that much attention from her was reserved for schoolwork and Ryan Gosling.

Roma didn't care about being discreet, simply looking over at the group. They were chatting over a small pile of fortune cookies and empty bowls. One of the boys had short brown hair and flaming pink cheeks, while the others all laughed. He was probably being mocked about something, but didn't seem to mind it too much. The girl sitting next to him had red hair so bright it was almost orange; the kind of color impossible to get from a bottle. She tried to glare at their friends, planting a quick kiss on the boy's lips when she failed to intimidate the others. Obviously, the two were a couple.

Next to the girl sat a skinny African-American boy wearing black-framed glasses. Three people sat on the other side of the table. A skinny guy with straight brown hair wore neon-colored clothes that seemed to match. He was laughing and leaned on the girl by his side for support. She tried to push him away for a moment, but was too busy laughing as well. The tips of her hair were dark purple and her black t-shirt had purple stars all over it.

The last person was probably the cute guy Claudia had spotted. He was a bit more muscular than the other boys. His hair seemed to be in a layered cut, reaching down a little past his chin. Roma could see a hint of red, probably from faded hair dye. His hair was as black as his eyebrows and eyes. He was dressed in black clothes and wore a leather jacket that looked very similar to Patrick's. Even though he was sitting there with the group, Roma could tell he was keeping his distance. The slight smile on his face was the only indication that he was laughing along the others about the other boy's mockery.

Roma blushed when he caught her staring at him. Most people never even noticed that she was around, much less that she was watching them. Owning up to her actions, she opted to offer him a smile instead of pretending to be looking at something else. He didn't smile back, but did begin watching her instead. Their staring contest was interrupted by Patrick, who pulled her close to point out an item in the menu, saying that it was something she should try. When Roma felt her friend twirl her ponytail around, she hoped he wouldn't notice how warm her body was.

The waitress appeared once more and carefully placed three glasses on the table. Roma chugged her iced tea in a matter of seconds, gaining odd looks from the people around her. Unable to handle the sudden attention, she directed her gaze to her lap. When she crossed her hands under the table, Roma thought they looked paler than usual. A moment later, she realized they weren't paler: they were glowing. Startled, she tried to stand up, but her right foot got stuck between her chair and Patrick's. All heads in the restaurant turned to see her sprawled on the ground.

"What happened?" Claudia questioned with a worried look as her best friend helped herself up. "Are you okay?"

"I think I have a fever. My hands are sweating and…" she leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Glowing. It feels like they're going to melt."

"Let me see," Patrick asked, reaching for her hands. He thought the droplets were sweat, but they were attached to Roma's skin. He pulled at one slightly, and watched it stretch in disbelief. "Rio, you actually are melting."

"So all of a sudden I have the ability to melt? When will that ever come in hand?"

"I don't think that's it," the Indian girl calmly stated. "It's not usual for people to just randomly sprout new powers if they already have one. Since you possess power mimicry, I think you're probably experiencing the powers of other people."

It was remarkable how interested Claudia was in superheroes and extraordinary powers. Her friends usually stated that her power was her super memory or innate intelligence, because she had a vast knowledge in various topics, and could learn almost anything just from reading about it. Whenever she got nervous she would babble random trivia or statistics and annoy the others. In this case, as it happened in most cases, her observation made complete sense.

"So, you think there are other people with superpowers here?" Patrick asked, looking over his shoulder and around the restaurant, as if trying to guess which ones weren't like him.

"Yes. And they must be close for her to feel their powers, unless hers is becoming stronger. Ten bucks say it's the people next to us," the brunette said and the other two once more eyed the group of friends at the other table.

"Think we can eat or would you rather leave, Rio?"

"Remember what your grandma told you: concentrate on something else, so you'll stop absorbing their powers without meaning to."

Roma took a deep breath, counted up to ten and then sat down once more. She told herself to think about unicorns, her favorite movie or even the last climbing route she had been working on a few days before. There were many things she could focus on, even if the tingling surging through her body seemed to be getting steadily stronger.

"Let's stay. But if my head starts glowing or anything like that, we're definitely getting out of here."

Author's Note: hi, everyone! This was the first chapter of Fumbling Toward Love, which will (unsurprisingly) be a Warren/OC story - so I hope you like those!

First of all: thank you, thank you, thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Second: it would mean the world to me, if you left a review to tell me what you think about it, if you liked it, if you didn't, etc.

The chapters will alternate between two points of view: Roma's and Warren's. So, yeah, that means next chapter will be narrated by our favorite pyro!

Friendly announcement that this is story is RATED M as per the website's rating guidelines, which states that fiction "with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language" should be given the M rating. This story will have at least one potty mouth character, with others occasionally cursing. And there may be innuendos, because I like those. And some "make out" scenes. So, yeah, just a quick explanation for the M RATING when you're not reading about violence or some nudity.

I've edited this chapter a million times already, but I'm only human, so please do point out any grammar/spelling/misc mistakes and I'll try to correct them.

If anyone would be up to being my beta for this story (and possibly a couple others, though they may not be in the Sky High fandom), shoot me a PM so we can talk. I'd love to meet you!

Until next time,

Mel.