Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm glad to see the reception this story has so far. A lot of interesting feedback for me to consider for future entries in this story.

Flameas: They're not sisters lol They're just best friends. And we'll find out about Carol soon enough! Same as the identity of Luna's sister!

0REDCap0: They're not really sisters, just friends lol Glad to hear I can be of some inspiration!

FanficFan920: This chapter reveals where this story takes place in the timeline of the Heroverse. And yeah, Luna's lineage has a few surprises left to be answered. Glad you're liking it so far!

Jeff: I really wanted to make things a bit more interesting than what one would normally expect, so I'm glad you find it fascinating so far! Interesting observations, we'll see how that goes.

Guest: We shall see about the heroes' lineage. Regarding the second part, Luna doesn't really remember her past as a baby, she just goes off what she's been told. The way she sees things may not correlate to how they really went.

meowloudly15: What can I say? I like James. Also, I'm waiting for your rant on Discord.

STR2D3PO: I hope I can deliver a great story! And we'll see how Luna and Sam's relationship goes as the story moves forward.

ChikstER21: Thank you! Interesting theories. Some of them will have their answer in this chapter. For some others, we might have to wait longer.

Without further ado, I'll leave you with the second chapter. I've been trying to keep them shorter and not overextend on them. Let me know if this is ok so far or if they're lacking substance.

Chapter 2:
Get'cha head in the game

When I opened the door, chills ran down my spine. The warmth within left my body in an instant, and my arm muscles began to shake. My little sister's room was almost completely covered by a thin layer of frost. The purple rug, the closet doors with all the heart-shaped and boy-band-themed stickers, the windows now opaque.

Even the new Ace Savvy's posters she had pinned to the wall with so much admiration.

She was standing on her bed with her back to me. She had her arms extended to the ceiling, moving her fingers like she was scratching the air. Above her head, a sphere of pure ice was materializing with the size of a basketball. A spiral of cold air and tiny fragments of frost were twirling around the sphere as she crystalized the water in the atmosphere to increase its size.

The television shone brightly as her favorite animated movie was playing. It was the scene right after the ice queen escaped her home to build a castle in the mountain. My sister, obviously related to the protagonist, and every time she watched the movie she felt compelled to use her abilities.

Lately, and ever since that new hero had appeared in our city, she was getting more and more permissive and relaxed with the use of her powers. Seeing her using them like that filled me with anger that burned hot enough to battle the cold.

"Tabby!" I said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary.

The ice sphere exploded like a piñata, falling over the bed like a shower of shimmering fragments of ice that reflected the light. Tabby turned with a smile directed at me. She was wearing her white boots, her pink skirt, a striped shirt, and her purple dark jacket. A few months ago she had copied Sam and now she rocked a purple streak on her dark hair.

Unlike me, she was Chunk's biological daughter, so we didn't really look alike. We were still very close, and she seemed to take me as a role model, for some reason. She always tried to come with me everywhere I went, and she talked to Sam, Sully, and Mazzy as if they were her friends too.

"Luna!" She said with a radiant smile. "You won't believe what I learned to do! Check this out!"

I tried to open my mouth to stop her, but she was already determined to show me whatever she was about to do. She began to move her arms in circles like she was brewing an invisible witch's calderon in front of her. All the minuscule pieces of ice that had fallen on her body, bed and the floor were lifted, orbiting around her like a whirlwind. She increased the speed of her movements and suddenly all the frost in the room flew towards her, surrounding her whole body like a constantly rotating sphere of crystallized fragments of water.

"Tabby, stop!"

She didn't listen. She kept speeding up until she suddenly extended her arms with her open palms. Like an explosion, the tiny pieces of ice expanded out of her. I crossed my arms over my face, afraid of getting hurt, but I could barely feel the cold spots where they touched my skin.

"Isn't it cool?"

I opened my eyes to see what Tabby meant. The pieces of ice were suspended in the air, floating like stars in the cosmos, distributed across the entire room. It was like taking a picture during a snowfall. I moved my arms, and the pieces of ice that were touching me moved along. I picked one with my fingers and examined it. It was small, the size of a marble, and hard as a stone.

It didn't turn into water or dissolve when I pressed it. At the speed they moved, they should have been tiny projectiles capable of causing some serious harm. And yet nothing in the room had received a single scratch.

Since when did Tabby have such precise control over her powers? How much had she been practicing behind my back?

"I call it the Ice Nova, it's gonna be my ultimate move!"

"Ultimate move? What are you talking about? And get rid of all the ice! Chunk can feel the cold from the living room."

"Oh," she said, and after closing her eyes and clapping her hands on her chest, all the ice in the room dissolved into thin air. "Sorry, dad!"

"No worries!" Said Chunk from the living room.

"What exactly did you mean when you said ultimate move?" I asked again.

"You know, the signature move I'll use to defeat villains."

"Wowowow, Tabby, what the hell?!"

"I'll be a hero!" She told me, twirling around and standing in a heroic pose. "I'll become the most powerful heroine and I'll protect everyone in Royal Woods!"

My heart skipped a beat. Tabby had always been more open than me with her powers. She played around with them. During summer, she would lower the room temperature, she made little ice cubes for our drinks. It made me upset and angry every time I saw her using them, but at least they were insignificant instances that didn't affect anyone else. I could justify them the same way I justified myself every time I used my powers.

Wanting to become a hero, however? That I could not allow.

"Tabby, are you out of your mind? You can't be a hero!"

"Of course I can, my powers are awesome. I can create ice walls, trap villains, freeze them where they stand. It's gonna be great!"

"You're only eleven!"

"So what? The new Ace Savvy is my age too," she said, giving a longing look to the posters over her bed.

Of course, that kid was to blame for this. For decades, Royal Woods had only one hero, one sole figure that stood firm through time to keep us safe from criminals. The only person to challenge and survive Royal Wood's curse: Ace Savvy.

Six months ago, however, Ace Savvy had been killed. Wild Card Willy murdered him, and now the city had no professional hero to protect it. The only two heroines were Nova and Eclipse, two young metahumans that were still probably in their teenage years. They were powerful but lacked experience, and no one felt truly safe with only those two patrolling the streets.

And then, a child had decided to become the new Ace Savvy. A little kid that couldn't be older than twelve, wearing a retro version of the original Ace Savvy's suit, fighting with seemingly the same skillset and gadgets. Many assumed he was the son or at least a protege of the real Ace. And everyone decided it was a great idea to put their hopes on this new child after the news showed a video of him defeating the owner of Tetherby Industries, apparently saving the city or whatever.

Of course, no one really talked about the crazy damages he caused during his battles. He obliterated three blocks in the industrial zone and started a terrible fire in a residential neighborhood that the firefighters had barely contained. He was reckless, endangered common citizens, and even worse, he was starting to inspire other kids like Tabby.

"You can't be a hero, you hear me?" I severely said. "This is nonsense. Forget it, don't even think about it."

"Come on, Luna! I need to make the best out of my powers!"

"No! The more you use your powers, the more people you'll end up hurting!"

"That's not true!"

"It is!" I said, raising my voice.

Tabby looked scared for a second, staying silent before giving me a challenging glare.

"You'll see; one day I'll save a bunch of people and you'll see I was right. I've been thinking about my hero name already. Say hello to Ice-Cube!" She raised her hands and a dozen of icy cubes materialized around her. "Although limiting myself to just cubes doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Tabby, you gotta understand. Having superpowers only brings pain and frustration in the long run, you understand? Trust me, please, you need to forget about this dangerous dream," I begged.

"Ooooh! I could be Ice-T! For Tabby, of course. That's so much better, how come I didn't think about it before?"

"Listen to me!" I angrily said as I walked closer and put both hands on her shoulders. "Being a hero isn't the way you see it on TV! You could die, you get it?! Ace Savvy Died! Every hero before him died! And regular people die all the time when they fight! Do you really think you could live with that weight on your shoulders? Can you even imagine how much it hurts knowing that because of you someone else had to pay the consequences? Do you have any idea what it feels like for your powers to be responsible for someone's death? Forget about it!"

Tabby stood silent with her head down. I softened my grip on her shoulders. I had totally overreacted. I shouldn't have yelled at her like that. It wasn't fair for me to project my problems on her. But I couldn't just let her follow that dream without understanding what was at stake. I didn't want her to go through the traumatic experiences I had been through.

I sighed, stroking her hair.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"I got it!" She suddenly said with a toothy grin. "Coldplay!"

I clenched my fist and counted to fifteen.

"Don't play with your powers," I said, standing up. "And don't you even think about using them in public. You hear me?"

"Duh, I gotta practice first."

I left the room without replying. I went straight to mine, laying on the bed with my eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling like a failure. I tried turning on the TV to distract myself. Maybe the music channels would have something interesting on, or I could watch a show to think of something else. Unfortunately, the moment I turned it on, the local news channel was showing the video of Ace Savvy fighting Tetherby.

"We reiterate," the reporter said, "a robbery has occurred at the Control and Confinement Center. No details about the stolen objects have been revealed, but sources within the police confirm to us that dangerous biological samples seized from Tetherby Industries have gone missing. The identity, motive, and modus operandi of the perpetrator is so far unknown. The security cameras registered no unauthorized person, there were no damages to the property, and no sensor nor alarm was activated. A true mystery that we could name as the Ghost Heist."

I turned off the TV. The news bored me, and that video of Ace Savvy in the background only pissed me off more than I already was.

All these years it seemed like I had convinced Tabby that our powers brought along a heavy load of trouble. She seemed to understand. She wouldn't use them in public, she understood her responsibility with them, and she understood we couldn't let our powers manifest in front of other people. Despite the understandable curiosity, she showed about her skills, she had always kept them lowkey, and she agreed with me that becoming a hero was signing a death sentence for them and everyone around them.

And then, the new Ace Savvy gave his little speech as he fought Tetherby live on TV, and now everyone had a new perception about what it meant to be a hero.

"Hope never dies. I might die right here and now, but after me, new heroes will follow. Hope didn't die with Ace Savvy, because as much as you try to end us all, there will always be someone who will stand up for what's right."

It was hard to find anyone that hadn't memorized those words since then. This new Ace Savvy had been popular before it, but her popularity skyrocketed after that speech. Not only him, but Nova and Eclipse were now more accepted than they were before. Her youth had raised several eyebrows, but it was undeniable that Nova was very powerful with her cosmic energy, and that Eclipse's telekinetic powers were very useful both in rescuing situations and fighting scenarios.

It pissed me off that people changed their minds just like that. I had grown up hearing that no one should become a hero in Royal Woods. That it was a death sentence. And now all of a sudden people were celebrating a kid suiting up to fight crime.

We shouldn't endorse that behavior. Now my little sister was fantasizing about being a hero too. After so many years discouraging her, those dangerous ideas were poisoning her mind. She was too young, she didn't understand how dangerous it would be for her to use her powers. The terrible and irreparable consequences it could bring. What if Tabby decided to intervene in a robbery and got hurt? What if a criminal shot her? Who would take responsibility for that? The heroes?

Imagining my little sister getting shot filled me with anxiety. No, I wouldn't allow it. I couldn't let that happen. Our family had already been through a lot of pain. It was my duty to protect Tabby no matter the cost. It was the least I could do for Chunk after all the pain I brought him.

I was starting to get worried sick, distressed. Anxiety episodes and even panic attacks were no strangers to me. I had experienced them in all sorts of intensities for many years. I knew the feeling, those intense minutes where anxiety grew like the waves at high tide. The tensing muscles, the mind wandering to those memories and thoughts that got progressively more dangerous. I knew the spiral of depression I was walking into, and I wasn't willing to let myself be dragged into it.

I didn't like reaching this point, but I'd take anything before having another episode.

I connected my headphones to my phone and pressed play on the first song in my pick-me-up playlist. For emergency occasions like that one, I had several playlists prepared, categorized by different moods and emotions. Sometimes I needed something to chill. Sometimes, to get motivated or pumped about something.

Usually, however, I needed songs to cheer me up as I did right then.

Why do the stars all line up
so perfectly
for everybody
but not for me?

The notes on the guitar and the soft voice of the singer rang in my ears. Once again, the music surrounded me. Even though the singer wasn't physically next to me, the emotions had been imbued to the sounds at the moment of the recording. I could read in the music the hopeful message as easily as if I was reading the page of a book. Feeling the emotion, however, wasn't enough for me right then.

I've told you before about the passive component of my powers, the ability to sense and feel the emotions in music. I think it's time to explain the active component as well.

I wish it could be easy
But it never goes that way
It's never like the movies
It's never like they say…

If music is charged with emotions, it's then only logical that it's able to transfer them as well. Just as air is the medium of propagation of sound, music is the medium through which emotion can be passed to the listener. The simplest example is perhaps the difference between major and minor chords. Without getting too technical, the rule of thumb is that major chords are used in happy songs, and minor chords in sad songs, because that's the emotion they convey.

Why is that? Hard to tell, but I think it's because music is a universal language. Its rules are as transcendent and perfect as nature itself. The Greeks talked about the planets and the universe to be related to harmonies themselves and the proportions in music.

The right song can make you feel empowerment, sadness, happiness, sleepiness, tiredness, anger, motivation. With my powers, I can actively take soundwaves and amplify them. Without much effort, I can simply raise the volume —something I swore I would never use ever again—, but if I focus a bit, I can also manipulate just the emotions imbued in the music and make them affect a person or a group.

I don't like using my powers, but I admit I've been a hypocrite and I've made use of them anyway in certain situations. Most of the time I've used them to calm Tabby down after a nightmare or to get her out of her small depression episodes. I've also used them with Sam before to, uh, amplify emotions, so to speak. And also with myself in situations like the one I was going through right then, to ease my mind and avoid complicated situations.

Making sure not to raise my voice, I sang along.

Well, maybe one day I'll be back on my feet
and all of this pain will be gone.
And maybe it won't be so hard to be me
and I'll find out just where I belong.

I focused on the sound of my voice, on the optimism and hope that it carried with the words. With my eyes closed, it felt like I was floating in an infinite void, a dark universe where I was the only living thing. And from the darkness and nothingness itself, a golden and emerald wind materialized, visible to my eyes alone, and moved around me like a nebula.

I guided it with my singing, controlling it like a snake charmer. It answered my instructions, it shone brighter following the intensity of my singing, and the more it swirled around, the closer it got to me.

A few seconds later, that air got inside me and it blew my anguish and anxiety away as easy as one would blow the dust off an old book. My soul was calmer, my mind was at peace, and I suddenly felt much better.

It feels like it's taking forever
but one day things can get better
and maybe my time will come...
And I'll be the lucky one.

I kept singing with a smile, even though I had to use my powers to avoid a crisis.

Sam was laughing hysterically, trying to cover her mouth with a hand so people around us wouldn't complain.

"This is serious," I hissed, gently punching her in the shoulder.

"Pfft… Coldplay," she repeated, bursting into a fit of laughter once again. "That's fantastic! I love it!"

"Don't even think about encouraging her! You hear me? She's way too young!"

"No, yeah, I get you. Don't worry, I'll talk to her," she said, making me feel better. "It's too dangerous. If anything ever happened to Tabby I would kill everyone in this town and then myself."

"Don't even mention it. Last night I almost had an episode thinking about that," I revealed, clenching my fists and looking down at my lap.

"You okay?" She asked, putting a hand on my back and softly stroking it. "You should've called me, Loons. I would've run to your house to be with you."

"I know. Thanks. But… well… I made myself feel better."

I turned my face to give her a meaningful look. She realized what I meant and pulled me into a side hug.

"It's alright, Luna. Don't feel guilty; it's ok for you to use your… gifts to get you out of tough spots."

"I shouldn't. Most people face their troubles instead of avoiding them like I do."

"Most people haven't been through what you have," she told me, giving my forehead a friendly kiss. "Besides, I'm no psychologist, but I'm pretty sure everyone avoids their problems. Few people actually face them."

"You're right," I said with a smile as I stared into her eyes, "you're no psychologist."

I flicked her nose, making her almost fall back at the sudden impact. I laughed to her dismay, but before we could engage in a playful fight, Mazzy came back with our drinks.

"Jesus, you don't imagine the line I needed to go through just to get some drinks," she said, sitting on the empty seat next to us and handing us our Sprite.

"Did you bring condiments?" Sam asked, taking a sip.

Mazzy smiled and fished a flask out of her jacket. She poured a bit of vodka in her cup and then handed it to Sam and me so we could do the same.

"For your boyfriend," said Sam, raising her cup.

"For Sully," the both of us replied, clashing our cups with Sam's.

Few things did a better job at cheering me up than spending a wonderful morning with my best friends, cheering another of our friends from the grades as he played football. His team, the Wildcats, were facing the West High Knights in one of the most expected games of the season. Not because it defined the championship —none of the teams were leading the table—, but because every time they played there was some kind of incident.

I'd love to tell you how the game was going, but I was never interested in sports, and I had no clue of what was going on. Judging by the mood in the grades, we were probably winning. I focused on the game right as Roger, the captain and quarterback, threw a long pass at one of his teammates. The receiver managed to catch it and began his dash on the left side. People stood up and began to cheer and celebrate. Sam, Mazzy, and I stood up as well. The running back moved at full speed, heading to the touchdown zone, and a defender from the other team came from the right to try and stop him.

Like a siege ram, Sully came out of nowhere to run right into the defender, crashing against him and making them both fall to the ground. People celebrated that dangerous collision that seemed to leave the guy from the other team in a dazed state. Sully stood up and turned in our direction, giving Sam a clear thumbs-up.

"That's what I'm talking about! Finish him!" My friend screamed, dragging her index finger across her neck.

"You're insane," said Mazzy, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend.

The running back managed to score a few seconds later, and everyone went crazy. The cheerleaders on the field jumped around and sang one of their rehearsed chants with a small choreography to go along. Seeing those popular girls showing off their beautiful bodies bothered me more than it should have. They were pretty, they were talented, they were athletic. Why couldn't they also be humble and kind? Why didn't they take advantage of their popularity to be good people?

I studied them for a few moments, but soon my eyes rested on a girl sitting on the grade closest to the field, right behind the fence that separated the cheerleaders from the audience. She wasn't dressed for a sporting event. She wore her usual attire; a skirt, a blouse, a purple headband across her golden locks. She sat with perfect posture, her shoulders and back straight as an arrow. It was to be expected of a cellist of her level.

I must have been staring at her for a while since Sam put a hand on my shoulder.

"Go talk to her," she said with a smile.

I felt my cheeks blushing and I experienced a sudden lack of air in my lungs. "I told you; it's nothing."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You won't know unless you go and talk with her."

"Are you talking about Carol?" Asked Mazzy.

"Shhh, don't interrupt us," Sam told her, receiving a middle finger as a response. "Come on, Luna. You're worried about whether the connection between you two is real or not, right? Talk to her, get to know her, and you'll have your answer."

It wasn't as easy as Sam made it out to be. Maybe in an ideal world. Maybe in a world where people were allowed to be authentic, honest, and weren't afraid of what others might think. This wasn't that kind of world. Carol belonged to the clique of popular kids, while I was not only two years her junior, but also part of a completely different clique, one her friends would never accept.

Besides, shit, why wasn't Sam thinking about the obvious obstacle of Carol being most likely straight? It wasn't healthy to assume every girl was at our reach. If I let the fantasy take over my heart, I was risking receiving a blow I would hardly overcome.

And yet, the desire was there, burning like the soft embers of a bonfire, waiting for the smallest stimuli to ignite the fire once again. My heart was looking for excuses to fight my brain and send me ahead on this crazy mission. I tried to rationalize my decision. What was wrong with just talking to Carol? It could help me get a better grasp of my emotions. I could know once and for all, if the music was confusing me or, on the contrary, it was trying to reveal a concealed truth to me.

I hated myself, but I had already made my mind.

"How is it that you always manage to convince me?" I asked Sam, rubbing my face with a hand.

"Because you're smart and you're able to recognize my wisdom."

"If your wisdom brings me trouble, I'm going to kill you."

"When you're on a vacation in the Mediterranean with your in-laws the Pingreys, remember to buy me a keychain or another European memorabilia."

Mazzy chuckled and I stood up before I lost what little courage I had managed to gather. I left my drink on the seat and walked down the stairs towards Carol. Oddly, there was no one else around her. Her friends were all cheerleaders or players, and the rest of the mortals didn't seem to be worthy of being next to her.

She was probably bored; she didn't seem to be the type of girl to enjoy a game. I just needed to get close, talk to her, engage in friendly conversation, and boom! Done.

Only that I didn't know what my goal was. I didn't even know what I could talk with her about. What if I screwed up? What if she rejected me right away? What if I ruined the practically null chances I had to begin with just because I rushed everything? This was a terrible idea. A grave mistake.

I stopped dead on my tracks on the last step of the stairs, resolved to turn around and go back with my friends, but the moment I stopped, someone that must have been walking down right behind me bumped into me, almost making me fall.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, turning around, "I didn't—"

I stopped what I was saying. There was no one next to me. The stairs were empty, no one else was standing, and the people in nearby seats looked oblivious, focused entirely on the game.

What the hell was that about?

I didn't have the time to stop and analyze the situation, since whatever had just happened managed to catch the attention of Carol Pingrey, who was now staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, hey Carol," I saluted, getting closer but leaving a respectful distance between us.

"Good morning, Luna," she said unceremoniously, trying to hide with a little nod of her head how her eyes took in every detail of my body from head to toes like she was silently evaluating my clothes.

"Huh, I didn't expect you to know my name," I slipped out, getting both my hands behind my back to hide the fact that I was feeling paralyzed.

Carol stared at me for a few seconds, as if she was trying to determine whether I was joking or not. "Of course I know your name. We've been rehearsing together for months."

"Yeah, yeah, right, of course," I said, immediately regretting listening to Sam. "I, uh, I noticed you were alone, so I decided to, y'know, come and say hi."

The tiniest of smiles appeared on her face.

"Thanks. I don't mind being alone, but I really have no interest in sports."

"Ha, I getcha. If it wasn't for Sully, no way my friends and I would be here."

"Sam Sharp, right?" She said, still with that smile on her face. I nodded. "You're pretty inseparable, you two."

"She's been my best friend for as long as I can remember," I explained, looking over my shoulder to where she and Mazzy were cheering at Sully. "Wherever I go, I know she'll be there for me. Some people even think we're sisters, as weird as it sounds."

"That is weird," Carol added, looking at the audience (on the grades).

"She's a big girl and doesn't need me to defend her, but don't take her jokes too seriously," I added, remembering Carol's annoyed face during our last rehearsal. "She doesn't do it to annoy people. She's just lighthearted with everything."

"You don't have to defend your friend, Luna," she assured me, raising both palms in a gesture of peace. "And you don't have to take responsibility for what she does. I know I don't take responsibility for what my idiotic friends do."

Part of me wanted to ask about what happened the previous afternoon, with Roger and everyone else bullying that drama club girl. I would have loved to hear what Carol thought about it. Whether she regretted not intervening or not. Though, well, in all fairness she had dragged the boys away. Did that count as intervening?

"Are you gonna just stand there?" She asked me. "Take a seat. Or go back with your friends. Whatever you please."

Wow, was that a test? Was she politely inviting me to fuck off? She was such a hard girl to read. Her face looked amicable, but there was an unmistakable tension in her muscles. Her expression wasn't entirely authentic, I could tell that much. But was she forcing herself to look friendly, or to conceal her real emotions?

Against my better judgment, I decided to sit with one seat between us and to move the conversation to a topic I was more comfortable talking about.

"To be honest I've been meaning to tell you for a while that I love how you play the cello," I said with full honesty. "You're super talented. You're probably tired of hearing it, but I wanted to tell you."

For the first time in the conversation, Carol seemed genuinely surprised, like she wasn't expecting the compliment. She closed her eyes for a second and a warm smile spread on her face. A sincere smile.

"Oh, well thank you so much, Luna. It means a lot coming from you. You're amazing at the piano. How long have you been playing?"

"As long as I can remember. My dad's a musician, I grew up surrounded by instruments."

"I see. Have you been to an academy?"

"Pfft," I said, but then I realized she was seriously asking. "No, no, I, uh, I'm self-taught."

"Seriously?" She looked shocked. "Wow, that's… amazing. Did you learn all the theory and techniques on your own? I can't even imagine how hard that must have been."

"It was pretty tough… but music's all I got," I admitted. "I'm assuming you went to an academy to learn how to play the cello?"

"Not exactly, but my parents hired a private tutor to teach me right after I turned five."

"Oh, wow. No wonder you're so good!"

"The cello and golf are the only things I've ever put in multiple hours of practice. If I wasn't good at them..."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," I said, leaning a bit towards her. "I'm sure that if you set your mind for it, you could totally rock at anything else."

Carol smiled at me and for a second her gaze moved to the field, where her friends were all cheering the players that were now gathering next to the bench to hydrate and discuss their next play.

"Like, for example, I don't think anyone doubts that you'd make a great cheerleader," I added.

For the first time in all these months I'd known her, I heard Carol's laugh. It was authentic, real, short, but completely melodic. This was a new side of Carol Pingrey, one so different from the frozen, stone casket she usually addressed the world with. I liked it. It's always nice realizing that someone isn't as bad as one believed. I was starting to feel comfortable around her.

"What? I'm serious. You're tall, athletic, you always win the crown at the homecoming dances… You'd fit right in as a cheerleader."

"And wear a miniskirt to cheer the jocks and have all the boys in school thirsty for my body? No thanks. Hard pass."

The way she phrased it lit a fire in my heart, and without even stopping to think, the words slipped my mouth. "You don't like boys?"

Carol's attitude changed right away. I noticed how tense her shoulders got and how her eyes suddenly lost their warmth. With just one question I had managed to ruin all the progress I'd made. Me and my stupid mouth.

"I do like boys," she sharply replied, looking at me with newfound apprehension, "but not enough to expose my body like that and sexualize myself with those uniforms."

"Oh, right," I said, looking away from her, trying to get out of that uncomfortable moment and to recover from the heavy blow of Carol being attracted to guys. "That makes sense. I'm sorry, I didn't—"

A series of grunts and painful moans distracted us.

We both stared at the field, where all of our school's players were grabbing their heads and hunching or falling to their knees in obvious pain. The coach was next to them, trying to calm them down but now knowing where to look. The cheerleaders stopped, the people on the grades shut up, the referees got closer, and the match was suddenly interrupted.

"What's going on?" Asked Carol.

I didn't say anything to her, I simply got on my feet.

"Sully!" I yelled.

My friend had taken his helmet off and was now walking around like he was drunk, grabbing both sides of his head. He was screaming in pain like his head was about to explode.

I can't explain what happened. My legs moved on their own, and before I realized what was going on, I had jumped right onto the field to figure out what was wrong with my friend.

I had no idea what was about to happen.