Absurdity: A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion


Misha eyed the boy sitting across from her at the lunch table, unable to stop herself from letting her eyes roam him. His face was passive, with a hint of anger that never seemed to fully cease from his features. His dark eyes narrowed slightly and pinned her with their stare, she couldn't tell if they were brown or amber, maybe hazel, but they were warm despite their hardness. His dark hair fell in lanky strands past his chin, a rebel streak of red cutting through it.

He sat with his broad shoulders slightly haunched, a leather jacket covering most of his frame and a worn band t-shirt tucked beneath it. He was good looking, and not just in that very clearly clichéd bad boy way either. She couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but something about him drew her in.

"What's up with that hair?"

She couldn't stop herself from asking, her mouth moving without permission from her brain. A part of her felt bitchy for asking, but the bigger part of her didn't give a shit.

He simply quirked a brow, "What's up with that attitude?" She may have been attractive and interesting, but he wasn't up for this bullshit today. Back talk, sarcasm, and snarky remarks were his forte, but he'd had a rough morning and while he'd usually love to enter a verbal sparring match with a girl like her, he just wasn't about it today.

Her smirk faltered, if only slightly. He wasn't even sure if that'd actually happened or not. She was quiet for a few long moments, holding his gaze. Everyone else around them had went silent as well, afraid that he'd already managed to offend the new girl. "I think I'm gonna like you."

"I don't give a shit either way."

She smile that she tried to contain was worth it to him, he wasn't sure why. "Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of an asshole?"

Will started laughing, but with one look from Warren he instantly turned it into a cough. Not many people spoke back to Warren Peace, mostly because they were afraid he'd kill them or burn down their house. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but it was kind of refreshing to have someone look at him in the eyes, small smiles on their lips.

"Every day of my life."

The bell sounded for the end of the period and everyone began to shuffle out of the cafeteria and different people back in. Their table stood and began to gather their things, Ethan gave Misha another smile and wave before heading off to Honors Science with Professor Medulla. Zack and Magenta left too, although with a less than enthusiastic goodbye than Ethan. Will, Layla, Warren and Misha made their way out of the cafeteria together, ignoring the whispers and stares that the new girl was getting as they did.

"Can I see your schedule, Misha? I'll walk you to your next class."

Normally the genuine sincerity in Layla's voice would've made her cringe, Misha wasn't exactly use to sweetness and polite conversation. But, there was just something about the other red head that made her pause, a compassion in her eyes that told she would never hurt anyone. Misha inwardly admired that about her, but also knew it'd be her downfall.

"Superman should have it."

She watched as Layla's brow furrowed in confusion. "Superman?"

"Yeah, uh, Will?" She asked, pointing to the smaller boy to Layla's left, unsure if she was recalling his name correctly. She'd never been good with names.

He smiled at her and nodded, turning towards his girlfriend and pulling out a piece of paper from his backpack, seemingly having forgotten that Principal Powers had given it to him to give to her. "That's me. Here, sorry, forgot I had that."

The two of them looked sickeningly cute, they looked like they'd be together until they were old and gray, sitting out on a front porch, drinking tea and watching the sunrise. A part of her hated them for it, for their obvious happiness. She pushed it down.

Layla looked over the schedule as they stopped at a wall of lockers that they all seemed to congregate around. "Okay, it looks like you're in all hero classes, you'll have one or two with Will and I, but mostly you'll be with Warren since we're a year younger than you two."

Misha didn't bother looking up and over at the tall boy to her right, she could feel him preemptively ignoring her anyway. He seemed like the kind of guy who didn't really do the whole friend-thing, which was fine with her, she normally didn't do it either. But, it did make her question his relationship with the two to her left, and the others from the lunchroom. How did he fit in with them when it seemed like all he wanted to do was live on another planet?

"Come on," Layla shut her locker and turned towards the three of them. "We'll walk you to class, Warren is headed there anyway." She handed Misha back her schedule, "You have chemistry now." She added as an oversight.

They walked down to the Science wing, passing Ethan and Professor Medulla's classroom, the Villain classroom, and the Sidekicks. Layla made sure to point out important details along the way, keeping Misha informed. When they finally reached the Chemistry room, Layla and Will went their separate way with Misha and Warren – who didn't wait for the new girl and simply sauntered into the classroom without her. Layla promised to meet back up with her after class to show her around for the rest of the day, and Misha had no doubt that the younger girl would keep her word.

She made her way into the classroom, ignoring the hushed whispers and curious glances from the students around her. She went up and handed the teacher her schedule, letting him check her off on the roster. "Alright, thank you, Ms. Evans. Find an open seat and we'll have someone help you get caught up."

Misha turned on her heel and spotted an empty seat in the back next to the brooding loner himself, she figured it'd be the easiest route to go and plopped down at the lab table beside him. "Is there enough room for me at this table?" He looked over at her with narrowed eyes and a slightly confused expression. "You know, with you and you're brooding intensity taking up all this space, just wanted to make sure."

Warren's eyes narrowed, but he suppressed the small smile that threatened to break through. "Are you sure you want to sit next to an asshole for the rest of the year?"

She locked eyes with him and gave a smirk-smile. "I think I can manage."

"Good. Because, I don't really do the whole partner-thing well. Just a heads up."

"I haven't been known to play well with others either, so, looks like we're a match, Captain." He made a face at her choice in nickname, so she cleared it up for him. "You strike me as the leader of your little... breakfast club situation."

He shook his head, "Nah, that's Will."

Misha rolled her eyes, "You're gonna tell me that those underclassmen don't follow you around like puppies?"

"You're mistaking following for not leaving me alone. Will's a leader, I'm just someone they use to be afraid of."

"I can't imagine why." He narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm, but said nothing. "So, Superman is the leader. I can see why, he seems pretty dashing and all."

"Is this a habit of yours, renaming everyone you meet?"

She thought on it for a moment, wondering how to answer that without giving away the fact that she was usually never somewhere long enough to properly give a shit. She was surprised no one had bothered to ask why she'd transferred mid-year and where she'd transferred from. She wasn't upset about it.

"I suppose, yeah. I've never been good with names." He didn't say anything back to that, and for whatever reason she just kept on talking, not really sure why she felt the need. "So, are you friends with all of them, or just Will and Peaches and Cream?"

"Peaches and Cream? Are you talking about Layla?"

Misha smiled, "Yeah, she's sweet. Like, too sweet." Warren looked at her with a slight smirky-smile and she rolled her eyes. "What?"

Warren shrugged, "Nothing. That's just an interesting nickname. I usually call her Green Peace more often than not."

Misha nodded her head in approval, "Clever. I could get behind that." The Professor began talking about their lesson for the day and writing notes on the chalkboard. It didn't take him long before he was on one of his famous rampages about testing bio-hazardous products in city based areas instead of remote locations. These usually lasted most of the period, so this could be a good time to observe the girl seated beside him, drawing on the back of her schedule.

She was tall for a girl, standing above Layla and matched height with Will, shouldering him. Her hair was long, a darker red than Layla's auburn, richer almost; her fell past her shoulders in a lanky curtain of light waves. It was messy, unkempt, and tucked behind her ears and out of her face. Her skin was a smooth pale that showed the obvious fact that she didn't spend much time in the sun, it looked soft, and he felt like a creep for thinking that. Her eyes were an ocean color that he hadn't seen before, a swirling mix of greens and blues that looked like the sea-glass his mother use to collect. She was oddly beautiful, and he couldn't put his finger on why. It wasn't easy to explain, and he'd never felt less poetic in all his life than in that moment.

She caught his attention and tilted her head towards Katelyn and her two friends. "Laguna Beach keeps staring at you."

He caught Kate's eye, ignoring the way her's narrowed before turning back around towards the front of the room. He didn't mean to let the words slip out, truly unaware his mouth had begun moving until it was too late. "That's my ex. She's a bitch."

Misha looked back at the girl in question, finding it hard to believe that the brooding asshole to her left had managed to bag a babe like that girl. She looked too prim, too proper, for the likes of him. A little too stuck up and blonde, if you asked her.

"Ex, huh?"

She raised a eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes. "Shut up."


As promised, Layla had been waiting for her as soon as the period had ended, a bright smile on her pretty face. Misha wasn't exactly use to this, or the girl, or her friends. She'd always managed to keep to herself after everything, she'd gotten pretty good at it too. But, for whatever reason, the students at Sky High were different, or at least some of them seemed to be. It seemed as though they weren't intent on leaving her alone.

Layla walked her to sixth period, Warren not having any of the same tact he'd perviously shone and strutted away without a second glance over his shoulder. She followed the other red head and sat down at a desk beside her and Will in their next class, Warren on the other side of the room, ignoring everyone.

"Don't mind him," Layla had whispered, rolling her eyes. "He's always like that, all temperamental."

Misha wasn't sure why Layla thought she cared.

They proceeded on to the next two classes of the day, and Misha couldn't honestly relay any of the information that had been thrown at her or really what the classes even were. Her mind was elsewhere, on other things.

She wasn't quiet and introspective by nature, but she had become this way after many years of keeping to herself. It wasn't often she made friends or chatted with people at the schools she was transferred to. Greg said she didn't try, she told him to fuck off. Which was why this whole situation seemed more than a bit bizarre to her. What were the chances that she was sent to a school where there were a group of misfit-y kids waiting to after-school special her ass? Very few, and she wasn't one to believe in fate.

She had thought about it for the rest of the day, that night as she slept and the next morning when Greg sounded the alarms and drove her to school. She felt weirded out by this new odd turn of events, it made her feel out of place and uncomfortable. She didn't like the way Layla smiled at her, or the way Will spoke to her as though they had been friends for years. She didn't like the way little Ethan offered to help get her caught up, or how Maj offered the seat beside her. She didn't understand this new development and she certainly didn't like it.

But, the rest of the week flew by in a daze of friendly gestures and whispers, it was friday by the time she catch her breath. No one had approached Misha, besides her new motley crew. No one asked about her or offered, people barely spoke to her or met her gaze. It was how she was use to it, how she liked it. And then these kids had to ruin it for her.

She had expected Sky High to be just like every other Super school she'd attended; boring, standoffish, ineffective. This was not what she expected.

Misha realized that it was only three days into her stay here and she was already skipping class. Causing trouble, she was not. But, being the best student she could be? Well, she wasn't doing that either.

She had ducked out of her Hero class – already knowing why she had been placed in all Hero classes and rolling her eyes at the thought that it would change anything – and made her way down the hallway. It was empty, quiet, and she relished the opportunity to be alone, to think alone. Her clunky black boots were the sounds that echoed in the hallway as she looked for a place to smoke.

She knew that she must've looked strange wandering around the hallway, carrying no school books, no book bags, and no purses. She couldn't be bothered with silly things such as textbooks and required reading. No wonder these kids wanted nothing to do with her.

She heard someone come down the hallway behind her, stilling for a moment as they spoke, but relaxing just slightly as she recognized the deep timber of his voice. "Excuse me miss, but may I see your hall pass?"

She turned around lazily to look at him, his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he was sans leather jacket for the moment. They hadn't gotten any friendlier over the past three days, he still only spoke to her when he deemed fit and she answered him with eye rolls and sarcastic quips. It was honestly the most comfortable relationship she'd had with another person that wasn't Greg in a long time. She found herself liking him more than all his friends combined.

"Captain? What are you doing down here?" He was in the class she had left and had steadfastly ignored her being for the first portion of the day. She quirked a brow, "Looking for me? Because, I don't need an escort."

He ignored her questions and set his face in complete seriousness that it almost made her smirk. "I asked for your hall pass."

She let the smirk slide onto her lips and held up her left hand, perched between her fingers was a cigarette. "Does this count?"

Warren's face instantly brightened, making him appear younger and less brooding. She found that was the only word that described him best. "I like the way you think. I'll lead the way." He walked passed her, knowing she would follow.

They snuck out, down in the basement where the apparent spot was located. It wasn't until they were out of sight, headed for their secret location that someone walked out of the bathroom up the hall.


The basement was cold and gloomy; there were no windows and a draft seeping in from somewhere. It was all cement walls and bare bulbs, with a slimy coating and extra desks and tables everywhere. Misha didn't care much, she'd seen worse. But, it did provide a good place to have a smoke and stay out of sight. Warren sat down on one of the desks, and Misha pulled out her pack. She handed one to Warren and went to reach for her lighter when he stopped her.

He said nothing as he snapped his fingers, fire appearing out of what seemed like thin air. If it had been anyone else he was sure it would've impressed them, but because it was Misha she said nothing and just eyed his fingers. He lit hers and then lit his own.

"I keep forgetting that everyone else is a freak here too." She took a long drag from the cigarette, ignoring the way he was looking at her, and the way her fingers trembled to touch his fire ones.

"Freaks?" Warren asked with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

She shrugged a shoulder, "I guess that's just how I see these powers that we have. They're ridiculous, and the limits and names we put on them are ridiculous too. How many Villains have turned into Heroes, or vice versa? How many Sidekicks manage to be better than their betters? The whole system seems fucked. I don't understand why everyone in all these damn schools are so obsessed with titles. It honestly doesn't even matter, we're all the same anyway – we're all freaks."

He stared at her face as she spoke, she was utterly too pale and he could see the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and check bones under the horrid florescent lighting. Her ocean eyes looked tired and told the story of many sleepless nights. She wasn't dressed like the others, he'd dated girls that dressed like her, thin slips of girls that meant nothing. She shrouded herself in black pants, tanktops and layers of cardigans or kimonos; she hid herself from the world, from the mirrors around her. He took a deep drag from his cigarette.

He wanted to know about her. He wanted to know what she liked and what kept her up at night, why she moved mid-year and what her powers were. He wanted to know why she had trouble sleeping at night and why that look passed through her sea-glass gaze. He made a decision in that moment that he'd get her to tell him, he'd get her to smile for him. He wasn't sure why that had become important.

She bit at her lower lip and looked up through her lashes at him, he could help the way he unconsciously leaned down a bit towards her, and he didn't think he imagined the way she almost perked up to meet him. He was close to her now, closer than he had been, and he could smell her. She smelled like lily and lilac, floral and light, nothing like the darkness that had enveloped them. He barely noticed the bare bulbs above them start to flicker, didn't pay any mind to the way some of them burnt out.

He was stopped though with a loud bang from behind them, causing him to shift away from her quickly and her to do the same. The door to the basement had been pushed open and storming in came Principal Powers and Coach Boomer, followed by Kate.

"I told you I saw them come down here, Principal Powers. I'm sorry to snitch, but it's against school policy. What if they'd gotten hurt?"

Katelyn was good at pretending, Warren would give her that. But, that didn't stop the clenching of his jaw or the anger that seeped from him as she got him in trouble, yet again.

Principal Powers gave the two of them one of the harshest glares he'd ever been on the receiving end of. She simply shook her head at the two of them and pointed towards the stairs, "My office, now."