A/N: Agh! I need to stop writing so much! I started writing another WIR story, and now I'm working on two different ones at the same time! Blurg! One thing at a time Hannah...but anyways, I won't post it until My Hero's done, just so it's not confusing or anything. But don't worry, I will write more in this universe, too. Thanks for reading!

VickyT36: Yes, Since I have nothing BETTER to do, there'll be new chapters pretty much every/every other day :) And as you can tell, more than one chapter per day on occasion.

Calhoun threw her necessities into her bag as she got ready to leave. It had been another normal, regular day, nothing that interesting had happened. At lunch, she had playground duty, something she usually despised, but she actually somewhat enjoyed it this time around. That little squirt, Vanellope had begged her to help her and her friends play jump rope.

She had initially refused. Calhoun did not spin jump ropes for 3rd Graders. No way. But then Vanellope busted out a pair of puppy dog eyes that would make even a chicken hawk go soft. "Fine." She had muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

But it wasn't so bad. The girls were really good, and it wasn't like it was hard work or anything. Vanellope told her that she was running for class president.

"Well, good luck." Calhoun had said, not really understanding why she was confiding in her.

"Thanks Sarge!" Vanellope said, saluting her and using the nickname she'd given her. Usually, Calhoun hated nicknames too, but it was a little kid, so what she going to do?

Calhoun locked up her room and headed towards the parking lot. On her way out, she accidentally bumped into Mary, who out of surprise dropped her stuff to the floor.

"Oh hey, here let me get that." Calhoun said, bending over to help.

Mary gave her a dark glare. "Thank you." She said stiffly.

Calhoun raised an eyebrow as she handed Mary back her papers. She was starting to get a feeling that Mary wasn't too fond of her. At that luncheon a while back, she couldn't help but notice that she kept giving her angry glances. Calhoun couldn't figure out what her problem was. She'd never done anything to her.

Had she?

Calhoun tried to think. Nothing came to mind...

She shrugged and shook her head, standing up. Maybe she just had issues. Everybody did, didn't they? "Well, ah, have a nice day." She muttered, walking out.

She threw her stuff into the back seat of her car and took off.

Calhoun was halfway home when she came upon Felix walking down the side of the road. At first she did a double-take. "What the-?" She muttered, looking out the window. Sure enough, it was him. She'd recognize that blue baseball hat and collared shirt anywhere.

Ignore him, Calhoun, she told herself, driving straight ahead. He's not your priority. It's none of your business. She gripped the steering wheel and tried to focus.

But...she couldn't.

Swearing under her breath, Calhoun made a U-Turn and headed back to where she had seen Felix walking. She pulled up beside him and rolled down the window. He looked up at her, surprised. "
Need a lift?" She sighed.

"Yes, thank you m'am!" Felix exclaimed, hopping in. He sat down as gently and carefully as if he was riding in the president's limousine.

"Where do you need to go?" She asked, not looking at him.

"Just the car garage m'am." He said in that Southern accent of his. Normally, southern accents drew Calhoun crazy, and not the good kind of crazy, but his...it was okay.

"What happened to your car?" She asked after receiving brief instructions from Felix on how to get there.

"It just broke down." Felix sighed. "Usually, I would just fix it up myself, but I've just been so busy at work lately."

"So you've been walking every day?" Calhoun exclaimed incredulously. Calhoun was a tough person, she could stand a hike or two. But every day? Back and forth?

"Yes m'am." He nodded. "Sometimes I can catch a bus though."

Calhoun whistled. "You're a trooper, alright."

"Thank you m'am." Felix said, sounding pleased.

"I told you, call me Tamora." She said, thinking back to when they first met. "No more of this m'am business."

"Sorry m'a-"

Calhoun turned to glance at him, an amused smirk on her face.

"I mean!" Felix said, blushing. "Sorry...Tamora." He chuckled at himself. "I was just always taught to address a lady like that."

Tamora felt her face burn for some reason she didn't understand. Keep it together, here, she reminded herself. She put back on her neutral frown and stared straight ahead.

They rode in silence for the rest of the trip, until she finally pulled up in front of the auto repair shop. "Here you go." She said, unlocking the car door.

"Thank you ever so much!" Felix said, smiling at her in a way that made her feel...bubbly. She gritted her teeth. Calhoun didn't like feeling like this. It was vulnerable and immature.

"You're welcome." She said curtly.

Felix opened the door. Pausing, he turned to look back at her. "Tamora, I've got to tell you something."

"Hm?" She said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Felix took a deep breath before he spoke. "I...You...You just really are a dynamite gal." He said, smiling at her.

Calhoun froze. The blood running through her veins seemed to ice over. Her head started pounding, and she felt like a million shards of glass were piercing into her skin. A blinding light filled her eyes and she closed them, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were pure white. Memories she spent so long burying deep down came back, all because of two stupid words.

"Get out." She said, squeezing her eyes shut.

"What?" He exclaimed, so innocent, so naïve. "But...all I said was that you're a-"

"I said get out!" She cried, sounding on the verge of hysteria.

She couldn't look at him. She just couldn't. She heard him open the door wider and jump out onto the dirt driveway.

As soon as the door shut, she took off, leaving a giant, billowing cloud of dust behind. She drove and drove, not knowing where she going. Finally, she pulled over on the side of the road, collapsing over the dashboard.

Dynamite Gal.

Calhoun didn't want to remember. She didn't. She tried so hard to forget. But after years and years of trying, she could still see his face, the look in his eyes before it happened, the heart monitor, the smell of hospitals and blood.

Calhoun gripped her hair as she tried to block out the sound of someone screaming. It wouldn't stop. She covered her ears, but the screaming still continued. The person wouldn't stop screaming, and now they were crying too, right in her ears. It was horrible-it was the second worse sound she'd ever heard. It was a horrible wailing, the sound of a person in pain greater than anyone would ever know.

It took her moment to realize that it was her.