Meet the Team: Liberty, aka Liberty

AN: Ok, so here's what's up. The next six chapters will be the same day told from the point of view of each young hero. This chapter will be from Liberty's point of view.

The first sound I hear in the morning is the army theme song blasting out of my alarm clock. Instantly, I am wide awake, my brain already scrambling to remember the long list of things I have to do today. Yet as I reach over to turn off my alarm clock, I find myself pausing a moment.

The alarm clock, coated in the traditional camouflage colors of tan, brown, and forest green, was a gift from my father. Dad gave it to me when I was little, right before his first mission after becoming a father. I told him I was so scared that he would get blown up, or attacked by monsters. My dad just smiled, and gave me this alarm clock. He promised me that he would be very safe, and that he would be waking up to the same song while on his missions, so if I ever got lonely, I should play the song and think of him.

I smile at the memory, then turn my attention back to my morning routine. There is much to do. First, I down a Red Bull, since I am still very tired. Next, I straighten my hair. My hair is naturally wavy, a mix between my mom's curly hair and my dad's straight hair. However, straight hair is in style right now, and I don't want to get caught on TV fighting supervillains with ugly hair, so straight hair it is. Then, I put on the outfit that I picked out last night to wear today. It consists of a red and yellow plaid shirt, with three-quarters length sleeves, blue jeans, and red flip flops that match the red of my shirt, as well as my red fingernail and toenail polish. All that's left is black mascara and black eyeliner, and my outfit is complete. Finally, satisfied with my appearance, I head downstairs for breakfast. Unfortunately, there is not much time left, so I end up snagging a granola bar and eating it on the bus.

Besides eating breakfast, I also get some of my homework done on the bus. My house is rather far away from school, so it takes about forty-five minutes to get there, and since no one on the bus is all that much fun to talk to, I usually just do homework, which I have plenty of. After all, taking all honors and AP classes isn't easy, especially days like today, when I had a soccer game last night. I love soccer, but I don't love the way I have to stay up until two in the morning to get my homework done after a game. Of course, that's not just because of the game. I also had a student council meeting yesterday, which took up another hour. Plus, on days I don't have games, like today, I have soccer practice three to four, then I work six to ten at the local grocery store. I am also in a volunteer club at school called Interact, which does fundraisers and canned food drives at various times during the school year, as well as Girl Scouts, which has its own volunteer projects, including the sale of the infamous Girl Scout cookies, which I shouldn't be eating unless I want to get fat.

But enough complaining. I need to train the heroes I met during the two attacks on our school, and good leaders don't complain. I finish my last page of math homework a few minutes before the bus reaches school, and spend the next few minutes thinking about how best to go about training my fellow heroes. Then the bus reaches school, and I hurry to get ready for first period.

First period math is not the easiest class to concentrate in. Our teacher has a monotone voice that makes me want to fall asleep. Still, I try my best to pay attention, glad that I drank that Red Bull earlier. Yet, as I look around the room, it seems that I am one of the few people putting forth any effort. Half the class isn't paying attention, and the other half isn't here yet. As I watch one of the latecomers, a girl with perfect hair, makeup, and clothing, walks into the room while loudly chomping gum. The teacher gives her a glare. "You're late," he says, disapprovingly.

The girl just giggles. "Oops, my bad." She then immediately whips out her cellphone and starts texting her friends, while still chomping her gum loudly.

Our teacher raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me, did you not hear me going over the syllabus? No cellphones in class! Come bring your cellphone to me, and while you're at it, throw out your gum!"

The girl sighs loudly, then walks as slowly as possible up to the front of the class. When she finally sits back down, it seems like class can resume, but just as the teacher opens his mouth, Joe walks in. "Sorry I'm late," he says, then takes a seat. Our teacher just sighs. "Don't let it happen again."

It seems like class is finally about to start, when Sam walks in as slowly as possible. When he notices the teacher glaring at him, he smiles. "What's up, Mr. H?"

"Class is what's 'up'. You are late for the third day in a row. This is your final warning!"

Sam shrugs. "Whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' me!" the teacher yells. "I'll have you know…!"

As Sam and Mr. H argue, I feel like screaming at someone myself. I need top grades to make it into Shield Academy, and the more time these students waste arguing, the less chance I have of becoming an agent and making the world a better place. Class finally begins fifteen minutes late, and our teacher ends up giving us the problems we didn't get to in class as homework.

I'm about ready to cry, I have so many things to do. All I want is to get some sleep, but it looks like this will be another late night of doing homework. Fortunately, the next period we have a substitute, so while other students talk or watch the movie that the sub put on for us, I frantically work on my math homework.

My other classes go better, and I end up being cheerful enough by lunch that I am able to complement one of my friends, who was struggling in English, for getting an A on her essay. She, in turn, complements me for fighting well during the Loki attack, and then we talk about movies for a bit. When the bell rings, I make a quick stop at my locker to down another Red Bull, since the first one is wearing off, then hurry to my next class.

When our Physics teacher announces we have a pop quiz, I am prepared. I am one of the first people to turn in their answers, and return to my seat confidently. I look over at my lab partner, Noah, whose confused look gradually turns blank as his head droops, then snaps up again as he catches himself nodding off. I sigh. Poor Noah. He probably had to work late again. He never told me this, but his faded, oversized grey hoodie and blue jeans look like hand-me-downs, and since he mentioned he works at McDonalds, my guess is that he works quite a bit for a high school kid in order to save up money, for college, I hope. It would be a shame if he couldn't go to college. He's quite smart, when he actually has time to do his homework.

Soon, it is time for English. I am not looking forward to doing partner work with Laura. Many people have been wondering how "The Teleporter" managed to escape from Loki unscathed, myself included. When the reporters asked if I thought she was helping Loki, I gave them the factual answer of there being no evidence to support that. If they had asked for my opinion, however, I would have said that, while I'm not sure if she actually did help a supervillain or not, she certainly seems like the type of person who would.

Fortunately, we end up discussing the chapters we read as an entire class, not in groups. Then, it's time for me to get ready for soccer practice. I am on the way to my locker, when a group of boys comes up behind me. "Lookin' good, Libs," one guy says.

I nod curtly. "Thank you," then turn back to my locker.

"You know, if you need a date for Homecoming, I'm available," another guy says, winking at me.

"I'll keep that in mind," I say in as bored a voice as possible.

"You know…." another guy says, crowding closer.

That's when it becomes too much. "Back off!" I yell, preparing to throw a punch. Fortunately, the guys are smart enough to go away. They run down the hall, one calling back over his shoulder, "You're even hotter when you're angry!" I roll my eyes. Boys are so immature. These three are not the first to annoy me with their immature flirting, either.

I go to the locker room and change into my athletic cloths, then, one hour of workouts later, head to another athletic field that is not currently being used, where I told the potential heroes to meet. I am pleased to see that three of the four people I invited made it. Sam is there, of course, as we have been training together since we were in diapers. Joe is also there, grinning away, along with Anne, who is nervously tugging on her blue butterfly bracelet. The only person missing is Noah, who likely has to work.

Just then, Laura comes running over. "Sorry… late… band," she wheezes, causing everyone to stare at her. I cough. "Err, Laura, are you sure you'd like to join us? Training with the X-Men might be a better fit for you." Hopefully, that came off as helpful, while mildly hinting that I don't want her on my team.

Laura glares at me. "Joe invited me," she blurts out.

We both turn to look at Joe, who smiles. "Her teleporting is like my arrows: she doesn't miss."

Laura looks like she is about to say something, but instead blushes, and looks away.

I frown. "That may be so, but I need team members that I can count on to do basic things, like being on time. Anne here is in band too," I say, gesturing towards Anne, "and she made it on time." Because she actually cares about helping people, unlike Laura. Anne cried for nearly an hour straight after turning back from her Hulk form, and apologized almost twenty times for attacking me, whereas Laura still hasn't bothered to give an explanation for her time spent with Loki.

Laura, however, still doesn't apologize, and looks at Anne with interest as though she just noticed Anne is there. "Hey Anne!" she says, waving to her. Anne gives a small smile in return, then looks down, embarrassed.

Deciding that Laura has wasted enough time already, I start the meeting. "Ok, so here's what we're going to do. I know we've all seen each other at the two battles, but we haven't fully introduced ourselves to each other in a casual setting. I would like to start this meeting by having everyone introduce your name, superhero name, if you have one, and two things that you'd like everyone to know about you. I'll start. My name is Liberty Rogers, my superhero name is also Liberty, I volunteer with the Interact club, and I like playing soccer. That's all you have to do. Sam, would you like to go next?"

"Sure," Sam replies. He turns to face the group, and says loudly, "My name is Samuel Thorson, I go by the superhero name of Shocker, and I rule at football and videogames!"

I nod. "Next?"

"What's up? I'm Joe, but you can call me G Wiz," he says, grinning. "As for what I like? Hmm, I'll have to go with gadget making and archery, although my lock picking arrow is kinda both. Oh! And videogames! Especially the times when I actually beat Sam."

Sam grins. "Ha, you wish you could beat me."

"What? Is that a rematch I hear?" Joe asks, cupping his hand to his ear dramatically.

Sam smiles. "Sure!"

"Awesome!" Joe agrees.

I smile. "Alright, I'm glad you have something in common," I say, ignoring the fact that Joe gave three favorite activities instead of two. "Next?"

"Hi," Anne says shyly. "I'm Anne. I was thinking… of being called… Green Girl?" Immediately, she winces, as though expecting someone to not like the name she came up with.

I smile. "Green Girl is a great name. Are you interested in environmental issues, by any chance?" I ask, noticing her looser style of clothing, and preference of wearing shirts and jewelry with animal designs."

Anne smiles shyly. "Yeah. I was going to mention I help the Park Rangers clean Central Park," she says, looking down and tugging at her butterfly bracelet again.

I smile. "That's very nice of you."

Anne smiles weakly. "Thanks."

"Do you have any other interests?" I press, wanting her to know she is welcome here.

Anne nods. "I like to paint."

I smile. "That's very cool! I wish I could paint well," I say, meaning it.

"Thank you," Anne says, still looking embarrassed.

I turn to the final member of our group. "Laura, are you ready?"

Laura appears surprised. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Um, I'm Laura. I guess my superhero name is Ninja?" she asks, more as a question than a statement. She turns to look at Joe, who gives her a thumbs-up. "Uh, yeah, Ninja. Is that name alright?" she asks me.

I shrug. "It's your choice," I say, annoyed that she's too lazy to decide on a name herself.

"Oookay… so anyways, I like reading and watching TV, so, like, yeah." she finishes awkwardly.

I clap my hands. "Alright, people! Now that we know a bit about each other, why don't we start on our powers? I'm sure you've seen what Sam and I can do, but I'd like to see what you can do." I plan to spend the rest of the hour examining the other's powers, but since Anne doesn't feel comfortable doing much, and Laura faints after just three teleports, the session ends early. The only positive aspect of this meeting is that Joe turns out to be in decent shape and has some martial arts training, which is more than I was expecting from someone who is also talented at archery and physics.

I take this knowledge with me and plan out what the next meeting will be about as I pour spaghetti noodles into a pot of boiling water. I can cook quite well, as I started practicing at a young age. Perhaps this is because my dad lacks a bit in the cooking skills department, or perhaps just because he goes away on missions so often, and I dislike night after night of frozen dinners. When I was younger, Jane would babysit me, which is how I got to know Sam so well, but nowadays, I can manage on my own.

As I eat, I try to come up with some exercises that will require everyone to use their powers as a team, but all I can think about is how lazy Laura is. She doesn't care about helping people, she can't come up with a superhero name, and my gosh, she can't even run from one sports field to the next without wheezing!

I hate lazy people. I've never even gotten a chance to be lazy. Ever since I was born, journalists have been writing about me, reporters have been interviewing me, photographers have been taking pictures of me, and all the while speculating about what great things I will do for this world. With everyone just assuming I'll become the next Captain America, I felt like if I didn't want to, it's because I'm a terrible person, and I would let everybody down. I mean, who doesn't want to be a superhero? So I studied hard, and fought hard, and the smiles everyone gives me almost make up for the lack of free time I have. Almost.

I know I can be a bit hard on people who are lazy. It's just frustrating how people like Laura can do whatever the hell they want, while I have to be freekin' perfect! I mean, I'm one of the only heroes without a secret identity, well, besides Sam, that is, although he likes to pretend he has one. And it's not easy being a celebrity. At least villains don't try to kill me too often. I still can't believe a supervillain actually managed to kill my mom, then disappear into thin air. It just goes to show that no one will be around forever, not even my dad, the famous Captain America. I need to be ready to take his place someday, and maybe track down my mother's killer while I'm at it. So much for free time.

Moping about Laura does not put me in a good mood for work. I end up on the express lane, where several grumpy customers await me. "The express lane is supposed to be faster than the regular lanes, not slower!" one customer complains. I hold my tongue as she walks away, but can't hold in a yawn, which causes the next customer to glare at me as well. I drink another Red Bull on my break, so I won't let more customers down. My heart feels like it's about to explode at this point, and my hands are shaking, but at least I can keep up with the customers now. And with the load of homework I have, it's not like I'm going to bed soon anyways.

I arrive home exhausted, and have to force myself to start on my homework. I barely get through two subjects, before my head slides forwards onto my desk, and I fall asleep.

AN: Wow, I did not plan on writing this much! I guess that's what happens when I have a full day with no work or school, and two cups of coffee that cause me to type at the speed of light, lol. Anyways, I hope this chapter is alright. Does Liberty sound like a different person, or does she sound like Laura? I tried to use a few different words, as well as have Liberty notice different things, for example, paying more attention to fashion, and to what's really going on with Noah (the Iron Teen), as well as having her be a perfectionist. Anyways, what do you think? Joe is up next chapter, so things will get more cheerful.