Running for Home

Chapter One - A new day, a new game

Author's note: This plot bunny came to me based on a quote from the movie, when The Commander is angry about the sidekick placement, and says "For the tuition we pay them?" I started to wonder about the superkids who couldn't afford it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am simply borrowing the wonderful characters and settings for my own enjoyment and amusement, and not for any profit.

----------

So, this was Sky High, I thought as the bus touched down and I forced my breakfast back down into my stomach from where it had tried to make a great escape during that tortuous bus ride. When I'd gotten on the bus that morning it had looked like any other school bus, and I could only hope it was the right one as I silently made my way to the back of the bus, avoiding eye contact with everyone. I had not been prepared, at all, for it to suddenly leap into the air after leaving the downtown area and take us on a roller coaster ride into the clouds.

I kind of thought the hot guy sitting across the aisle from me wasn't all that thrilled about it either. And by hot, I didn't just mean how good looking he was (which was VERY, by the way). His arms were on fire, held pretty tensely at his sides, and he looked rather green under the fire's glow reflected on his face.

"What are you looking at," he growled, as the flames died down.

"Nothing," I replied, and then, unable to keep my mouth shut and my unfortunately quirky sense of humor to myself, "Just wishing I had some marshmallows."

The flames came back to life on his hands as they clenched and for a second, I feared I had just offered myself up to be barbecued, but instead, it seemed I would live another day as he took a deep breath, unclenched his hands, and made a quick exit.

Great, 30 seconds at my new school, and I'm already making friends, just like Aunt Paige had said I would be as she rushed me out the door of the apartment this morning. Just like the counselor at my old school had said I would. Everyone had failed to tell me that this would be occurring ten thousand feet in the air.

I'd figured Sky High was just a name, you know, like whoo-hoo-the-sky's-the-limit-for-us-superhero-folk, or like, a superhero named Sky had saved the city of Metropolis, so let's name a superhero high school after him. Or her.

The superhero high school I'd gone to for my freshman year had been located on the ground, like a school should be. Of course, this new school was a good deal more expensive than Powers High School, and naturally could afford to be kept in the air with the latest in anti-gravity technology, as I heard a girl explain in a tour-guide-like-manner as she passed me, followed by a bunch of gawking students I could only assume were freshmen.

I quickly controlled my expression, hoping I hadn't looked like those freshmen as I'd been examining the outside of the school building. I mean, hello, I was a sophomore and should show a bit more maturity. And yeah, I was the only sophomore transfer student, so might be granted some leniency when it came to the gawking-at-the-school-and-at-the-amazing-and-somewhat-quesifying-distace-we-are-from-the-ground factor. But in no way did I want to stand out any more than I already did from my classmates.

Because, not only was I the single transfer student to be attending Sky High this year, but I was also one of the few scholarship students, a scholarship, I might add, that had only been given to a kid like me because the principal at my previous school, on the other side of the country, was the founder of said school and brother-in-law to Principal Powers of Sky High.

See, it really is who you know that matters more than, say, for example, who your parents are.

Now, what to do on my first day of Sky High… You know, someone really ought to publish a new student checklist. Or maybe even a book. The Dummies Guide to Being a New Student. Or maybe, First Day of School Dos and Don'ts. I think I'd buy that one. Something to tell me how to act, where to go, what to do, what to wear, who to talk to without sounding or appearing to be a sad little know-nothing (even if that was, in fact, what I was), and how to not appear like the new student freak (even if that was, in fact, how I felt).

I surreptitiously checked out the scene on the lawn in front of the school. Let's see…a long-stretchy, freaky looking kid doing flips up and down the front stairway, kind of like a human-slinky. So, apparently, it was acceptable to flaunt and show off your powers on the front lawn. Note to self. Okay, what else… A couple of kids who appeared to have the power of flight were touching down in what looked like a large, paved landing zone. Oh wait, only one of them could actually fly. When I got a glimpse of the back of the other two, they were shrugging off backpack sized jet-packs. I wondered if this was the Sky High equivalent of showing up to school in your own BMW convertible. Then again, I don't know what the going rate is for jet-packs (weird, I must just keep missing THAT Wal-mart aisle), so it could just be the superhero equivalent of upper classmen driving their own cars to school. There was also a really pretty ice sculpture of a couple of…oh good grief, were those students!

Heh, tour of the front lawn SO over, I rushed up the steps and through the imposing front doors located under the rather large Sky High sign. Now, this was where a guidebook would come in handy. It appeared that most of the new students (yeah, read that as freshmen) either knew older students who went to school here and were willing to help their newbie friends out, or were following the beautiful and preppy tour guide to their destination. And since I had no clue as to where I was supposed to go, I followed the tour-guided students and tried to pretend that I was really just walking in the same direction as them.

I ended up in a large assembly of new students where Principal Powers appeared and gave us a welcome speech. I recognized her from the brief meeting I'd had with her at the end of my freshman year when my counselor and my principal were trying to get me into Sky High. Not knowing if this was the type of school where we were buddy-buddy with the administration, or whether being acknowledged by the administration was akin to being branded with a geek label, I tried to hide my face and keep my head down. But when I heard the words "Power Placement," my head snapped up and my eyes went wide. And when I heard a few students nearby explaining to others within their group about hero tracks and loser tracks, I wanted to melt into the floor. Awww shitake mushrooms, what kind of elitist school was this?

While I was obsessing over my pretty-much-set-in-stone-loser-track-for-my-high-school-life, Principal Powers whisked herself away in a flash of pretty lights and what had to be the gym teacher rose up out of the floor. Hmm, drama queen much? Apparently his power didn't allow for grand entrances like Principal Powers, so he made up for it by rising from under the gym. Greeeat. And his opening tough-guy speech pretty much confirmed the idea that this was not one of those cuddly-teddy-bear teachers you could talk out your problems with.

It was as I was contemplating the question of whether these teachers actually existed or if they only made appearances in cheesy movies and TV show scenes, when I suddenly got the feeling that I was missing something, snapped out of my reverie, and realized this Coach Boomer guy was calling my name. Heh, my name, first one on his clipboard list. Great.

I still don't automatically answer to Nevaeh. It still takes some people calling it two or three times before I'm snapped out of my daydreams. I guess that's what happens when you're forced to give up the name you've been called for the last fifteen years and choose a new one.