Running for Home

Chapter Eight – Never One to Trust

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

----------

All right, I thought, as I watched the second hand going around on the clock. This was hell. As my classmates around me discussed the jury selection for my mother's trial, I was getting my own little personal preview of what hell was like.

When I left school today, I was going to join a nunnery to ensure that my after life would involve me passing through some pearly gates.

I was out of my seat and through the door before the bell finished ringing. All I wanted was to escape, to have four mind-numbing hours of washing dishes so I could forget that this day had ever happened. I wasn't even that excited to spend fifteen or more minutes (depending on the school's floating direction that day) sitting across the aisle from Warren Peace. Even though no words were exchanged (or even looks coming from his way), it was still a pretty good view, which helped distract me from the queasiness-inducing bus ride. That's all I was doing when I watched Warren out of the corner of my eye, of course. Distracting myself from the driver's horrible stops, starts, turns, and whirls.

But today, even the leather jacket and I-want-to-run-my-fingers-through-it hair weren't enough to distract me from the disaster this day had turned out to be.

I had been stupid to think that I would be able to work, exercise, and develop my powers like any other super kid. Even if they had had some sort of safety net system for power development, the first time I used my powers, someone would have figured out who I was. Which meant that I either had to practice on my own (and let me tell you, empathy without anyone else around? Pretty much an empty power), or… Well, I didn't really have an "or." Basically, I was screwed.

My parents were two of the most powerful villains in the super world. My power wasn't half bad, if I do say so myself. Yet, for all intents and purposes, I was powerless. In a super world where all that counted was power.

Needless to say, I was a little depressed and could only manage to dwell on the bad for the entire bus ride. I snuck just a few glances at Warren rather than the too-many-to-admit glances I had managed that morning.

First things first, I needed to stop dwelling on this, or I would spend four hours running these same thoughts over and over in my mind while washing dishes – not the best way to spend an evening. I needed calm, peace, and serenity so I could relax during my dishwashing. Time to think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Raindrops on roses, etc, etc. My stomach flipped over. Time for this bus ride to be over, already.

So I'd thought my day couldn't get any worse? Nope, I was wrong. Yes, it is SO fun to be me.

I got off the bus at the same stop I had used yesterday. As did Warren Peace.

And he turned down the same street I needed to walk on. I was left with a dilemma – if I just walked along behind him, would I seem like a stalker, or if I tried to take another street, would I look like a loser who was totally lost (and might end up lost for real)? But walking with him in the same direction wasn't really an option. This was Warren Peace after all, which meant that a) he didn't exactly encourage small talk and friendly conversation with his broody nature, and b) I was still at a loss when it came to actually talking to him, since what I should be doing was avoiding him.

I spent most of the walk to work worrying about this dilemma, so much so that I almost missed Warren entering the Paper Lantern. I stopped in my tracks. Hoover Dam! What was he doing there?

A sick sense of premonition was starting to tickle the edge of my brain. I refused to acknowledge it, because what that little feeling was telling me was something too awkward and awful to believe. My brain was quickly playing its own game of connect the dots.

Please tell me he just loved Chinese food.

With a sense of bravado and zero sense of hope, I pushed open the door to the Paper Lantern. Warren wasn't in the dining section.

Shitake mushrooms. My stomach was filled with dread as I walked through the kitchen to the back area where the staff could put their personal belongings.

Warren was tying on a waist apron. His hair was already pulled back. When he looked up and saw me…well, the look of dawning horror on his face made the fact that we worked at the same place almost worth it. Almost.

"Nevaeh Tyler. No way." He was shaking his head. Wow, even Warren Peace knew who I was, which I found to be rather impressive considering the fact that no one talked to Warren. Ever.

"Do I look any happier about this than you?" I asked, hanging my messenger bag on a hook and taking down my waterproof apron.

"I'm having one of those dream moments and when I wake up, you'll be gone."

"Aw, you dream about me? That's sweet, really. And kind of creepy." I tried to offer a peace-bearing smile. He tried to glare me into the ground. "Okay, look, I know I'm probably not on your Christmas list after yesterday, but I need this job. Probably as much as you do. So if we could just pretend that yesterday—"

"What do you mean, as much as I do?" The menacing tone he was using right then? Downright scary.

Open mouth, insert foot. It really ought to be my motto. "Well, I mean, most students at Sky High probably don't have after school jobs, and if you're willing to be a busboy—"

"How do you know I'm a busboy?"

"I had to sub in for you yesterday because you weren't here. Only I didn't know it was you. I just knew a busboy couldn't make it to work."

"Because of that detention YOU put me in."

I winced. "Yeah. Because of that. But see, if we just forget that ever happened, then maybe we could get through this whole working-together thing."

"Unless you throw yourself through the front door and blame me again for it."

"Which won't happen. I let my shields slip yesterday, just a bit, on purpose. I know better now. The feelings of a fire elemental are so off limits. It won't happen again." I held up three fingers and kind of wiggled them around since I didn't know the exact hand position for scout's honor. The gist was what counted, right?

"You're an empath."

Another wince and a minuscule head nod. Shitake mushrooms. I mean, I know my power won't stay a secret forever – it is Sky High after all and everyone seems to know everything about everyone. But that didn't mean I had to advertise it.

I must admit, I expected another barrage of anger, accusations, and glaring when I confessed that I had been reading Warren. Most people consider it a huge invasion of privacy. Which it is. Which is why, aside from the bad result, it had been a bad idea and it wouldn't be happening again.

Yet, as I waited with apprehension for Warren to lay into me for invading his emotions without his permission—which he had every right to do—he simply said, "Huh." There was a weird look on his face as he walked out into the dining area.

Suddenly, I was feeling rather wary. Warren had just walked away without saying a word about the fact that I read him, and without finishing our argument about us needing to work together. This was probably not good.

For the rest of the night, he would bring in a tub of trays and walk back out again without saying a word. I would take the tub without saying a word. All in all, it was the peaceful co-existence that I had asked for. So why, as I hung up my apron and grabbed my messenger bag, did it leave me with a bad feeling about the way things had gone tonight?

Walking back to Aunt Paige's apartment, I had a lot of time to mull over the ominous evening. I do believe I would rather have fought with Warren all night than just have him walk away with a "Huh."

When I got back to the apartment, Aunt Paige was there. I was relieved that I had no homework because the free time meant Aunt Paige and I were actually able to talk, even if exhaustion limited that visit to a few minutes.

"Do you like Sky High better or worse than PHS?" she asked once we were both sitting on my fold-out-bed.

"Sky High is growing on me." You know, except for the power development issue. Which would be a problem no matter where I was or who I was pretending to be. "When I first heard about the whole Hero-Sidekick thing, and then got a look at the ridiculous Sophomore Sidekick classes that are required, I thought I'd died and this was hell. But it turns out my teacher makes it not so bad. I'm actually enjoying classes like Sidekick Theory." I decided against mentioning my current events class and the disaster that it was quickly becoming. Aunt Paige and I never really discussed everything that had brought me to live with her, and we were certainly too tired to start now.

"Who's the teacher?"

"Miss Watson. She's really good. Her big thing seems to be getting us to look at things from different angles. Like, examining a problem from lots of different points of view in order to reach a solution. She asks lots of questions so that we start out looking at something from one side and by the time the discussion is over, we're looking at it from the opposite side, and it makes sense."

Aunt Paige nodded. "I've heard of her before."

I wrinkled my brow. "You've heard of a Sidekick teacher? How?"

"She's a fourth generation super."

My eyebrows tried to join my hairline. "Are you serious? Miss Watson? Then why is she a Sidekick?"

"Well, a fourth generation Sidekick, anyway. If the same power is still being passed down, I think she has the power of reasoning or logic or something like that. Her great-grandfather was a sidekick for some famous English detective."

"So even if she is fourth generation, she's still a Sidekick – I bet that is one difficult power to show or prove during Power Placement."

Aunt Paige smiled and ruffled my hair as she stood up, then leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "Just look at you, figuring things out in your mind. It appears that her teaching is already rubbing off."

Indeed. "Night, Aunt Paige."

"Good night, Nevaeh." She disappeared into her room and the door closed with a soft click.

Still thinking about Miss Watson, Sidekick class, and power development, I crawled under the covers. So I couldn't use my powers. That was a fact, and there wasn't much I could do about it. But sitting in the bleachers during power development wasn't the best idea ever – it called attention to me, and if people knew I had a scholarship, but thought I didn't have a power, they might start to wonder.

Okay, examine the problem; if I couldn't sit in the bleachers, the only other option was to be on the floor. But to do that, I had to exercise my powers, right?

Then again, empathy wasn't an active power. People didn't need to see it to know—or think—I was emotion-reading. There was no real way to prove I was using it, or not using it. Any mistakes I made while pretending to read people could be chalked up to only being a sophomore and having a power that was still developing.

For the first time since lunch, my smile was real.

----------

Thanks to reviewers Kara Adar, Godsgirl91, Nival Vixen, 2oopm, Readerfreak10, horsebookworm, CMHValex, xeasilyxamusedx, and Bellatrixcastle. It's good to hear what you're thinking when you finish a chapter and what you liked or what confused you. Definitely helps me :)