All Star

Fifth Grade

"School!?" Butch couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean 'we have to go to school'?"

"Because she will be there and I want to annoy her." Brick crossed his arms.

"If you want to annoy Blossom so bad, just beat her up."

"Yeah, we already annoyed her yesterday when we beat them up." Butch punched his fist into his hand, remembering beating Buttercup to a pulp. "That was fun."

Brick got that look in his eye. "She wants me to start a fight with her so she can call me a villain. So we're going to do the opposite."

"We're going to fight crime?"

"Shut up, Boomer!" Brick and Butch both said.

"Of course we're not gonna fight crime." Brick folded his arms. "But we are gonna go to school."

"What's in it for us then?" Butch asked.

Sophomore Year - October

"Hey Butch." Bubbles and a bunch of other cheerleaders surrounded him during lunch. Butch didn't know what was going on, but he liked it. "We're kind of friends, right?"

Butch couldn't help but smile at her. "Bubbles, you and I got drunk together. That is a bond of friendship that can never be broken."

"I wasn't drinking," she said in a low voice. She touched his arm, probably because she was so into him. "Look, we need you."

"We need you to be the football team's quarterback," the blonde from the party said.

"Yeah, the team sucks without Tyler and we heard you're pretty good," one of the other cheerleaders said. He really needed to give them all nicknames.

Butch had thought about trying out for football, but when tryouts came around getting high felt like a better option. He totally spaced it and the decision was made for him. Things in Butch's life tended to work like that. Brick always took care of the complicated stuff and the rest just happened. And now an entire squad of cheerleaders was begging him to join the team.

They smiled at him, clutching their hands. "Please," they all simpered, knowing exactly what they were doing.

Butch didn't need to think. When a bunch of pretty cheerleaders ask you to do something, you do it every time. "Yes. This is what I was created for: to throw balls far."

Bubbles made a weird face, but Blondie was totally into it. "Wow, Bubbles, you were right. He really is perfect," she said.

After lunch there was more boring school, Butch could hardly pay attention. After the last bell, he got a good workout in, people liked it when his muscles were swollen from a good lifting session.

He touched down on the field where the team was practicing. He stood next to the head coach. "And here I am."

"Who are you?" the coach asked.

"Your new QB."

The coach snorted. "Fuck off."

Butch chuckled looking at the formations the team was making. The quarterback hiked the ball and looked around, not knowing who to throw it to. He got sacked easily.

Butch chuckled again. "I wouldn't have fucked that up."

"I said-" The coach stopped himself, probably not wanting to repeat profanity.

"Fuck off?" Butch huffed. "I bet you twenty bucks he fucks up this next play too."

The coach didn't say anything. The backup QB decided his play and the rest of the team got into position.

After a bunch of words he finally hiked the ball. His blockers did their job. One of the receivers broke from the defense, but he wasn't looking that way. His chosen receiver had double coverage. He couldn't see the rest of the field and waited so long for the receiver to break free, a lineman tackled him from the side.

Butch ripped into a full laugh. "Yep, fucked it up again."

"God damn it." The coach blew his whistle and started berating his players, trying to get his QB to do his job properly.
Butch followed and picked up the ball while the coach was busy yelling.

The coach noticed him and stopped yelling. "Look kid, I don't know who you are or why you think you can-"

Butch looked at the receiver. "Go out for a pass." The receiver took off down the field.

"-interrupt my practice. But I will not have you-"

Butch gripped the ball in his right hand while he watched the receiver. A slight tingle shot up his arm telling him where the receiver would be when the ball got there and exactly how much force to use. His arm moved back and he launched the ball downfield.

"...Shit," was all the coach could say as it soared in a perfect spiral.

The receiver turned and caught the ball exactly where Butch had meant to throw it.

"Can you do that under pressure?" the coach asked.

Butch smiled. "Give me a tryout."

"Think I just did."

"Cool. I don't even need pads."

The coach crinkled his nose. "It's football, kid. You wear the damn pads."

"Nah man, I'm Butch," he said, rising into the air. "Unstoppable superhero who fights monsters."

"You got superpowers?"

"Yeah, but I didn't use them for that throw or anything. The ball would have gone to the moon if I did."

"Shit. Like an even better Buttercup." The coach shook his head. "Where have you been hiding? Look, I'm gonna have to talk to the principal."

"Aww man." Seymour was never going to let him play on the team. And becoming the team's quarterback was his life-long dream. He had had it all day.

"Come to my office in fifteen minutes. Until then, I don't know, run some laps."

Butch rolled his eyes. "...cardio..." he said under his breath and started running. The coach put one of the assistants in charge and went to his office.

Butch ran for a while, he didn't know time. Once he got bored, he went into the locker room where the coach's office was. He was surprised to recognize the old lady standing near the desk. "They hired you!? Aww man."

Ms. Keane put her hands on her hips and took a breath. "Butch, would you like to go outside and try that again."

Butch sighed. He forgot, Brick had gotten ole' Seymour fired. He walked out of the office with his shoulders slumped, then came right back in. "Hi Ms. Keane."

"Good afternoon, Butch. I understand you want to join the football team."

"It's my dream."

Ms. Keane crossed her arms and sighed. "While I am glad you are willing to participate in extracurricular activities, I do need to ask, why the sudden interest?"

Butch thought about it. They probably had drug tests. He wouldn't be able to get high as much, but he would get to play football. Then there were the cheerleaders. Honestly, not being able to smoke was the only downside. He couldn't tell Ms. Keane that. His head started to hurt. And did he really want to give up pot just to play football? The sound of fans chanting his name, 'Butch! Butch! Butch!' Him, looking awesome with a girl hanging off him, no, two girls. He pictured it and nodded his head.

All he said was "football."

"I'm convinced," the coach said, swiveling in his chair and turning to Ms. Keane.

"Indeed." Ms. Keane looked over her glasses at Butch.

"Put this on," the coach said. He reached out to give Butch something.

Butch could smell the Antidote X from where he was standing. He unleashed all his power immediately. Green energy ripped off of him. He surged with the power to break steel like a pencil between two fingers. "No." To hell if he was going to get dosed with AX.

The coach recoiled back in his chair, but Ms. Keane didn't move. "You have to wear it to participate in school sports," Ms. Keane said.

"You make Buttercup wear that shit?"

Ms. Keane locked eyes with him and stepped forward. "Yes, that is why we have them. And watch your language."

Butch growled. The AX made the hair on his arms feel like it was going to rip out of his skin. "You need me at my best at all times. Never know when a monster might attack."

"If you accidentally use your strength or speed you could easily injure someone," Ms. Keane explained. "Even using your durability could injure someone who tries to tackle you. It also ensures you don't cheat."

"I'm not gonna use my powers." He charged his eyebeams but didn't fire. "If I use them, you'll know."

"Butch, I can assure you I understand how your powers work." Ms. Keane did that thing with her hands that always drew Butch's attention. "That's why you need to wear this." Ms. Keane took the bracelet from the coach and handed it to him.

Butch's gut flipped inside of him. He dropped it and took a step back on reflex. "Look, I can use my powers all I want. Brick's got-"

"Former Principal Butte may have let that slide," Ms. Keane took a step toward him. "But unauthorized use of superpowers will not be tolerated in my school."

Butch glared at her. He didn't like to be told what he couldn't do. "Oh yeah? I'll-"

"Butch," Ms. Keane said with a terrifying calm. "Pick up the bracelet."

Butch skin went cold while his insides were burning. Even Brick did what Ms. Keane told him to do. He crouched down and reached at it. He wanted to throw up. It was like sticking a hand in a monster's mouth. His fingers curled around the band and he picked it up.

Ms. Keane put her hand on Butch's shoulder. "Why don't you use the rest of this week to get used to it. You can even try it on. I promise, when you take it off, your powers will return in less than a minute."

Butch realized he was taking huge breaths just staring at it. Ms. Keane's words had barely registered in his mind. "Okay."

"You can come to my office if you have any concerns and the school counselor is available."

"Practice is after school Monday through Thursday," the coach said. "Game days are on Friday. If we lose, I call in a double practice on Saturday, 5:00 AM." He stood up, like it mattered. "Don't lose."

That was a lot. Butch hadn't realized how much time football was going to take. He really didn't need all that time to get pads on. And he really didn't like anyone telling him what to do and when to do it.

"There is also the matter of your academic record," Ms. Keane said. "You are just under the grade requirement to participate in school sports." Coach took a breath like he was going to say something. "However," Ms. Keane preempted him, retaining control of the conversation. "I will waive that rule if you enroll in tutoring and bring up your grades to the acceptable level within one month."

Butch sighed. He didn't even want to know if he even wanted to do it anymore. He was really tired all of a sudden. If it would get him out of there, he would just go along with it. "Okay."

Butch looked at the bracelet while walking the halls. The smell was putrid and there was this needle he could see, it was partially hidden, but he found it. He was thinking so hard he almost ran into someone.

"Butch, I'll pay you a thousand dollars for that thing," Princess said holding out a wad of cash.

Butch shoved it into her open hand and took the money. "Sorry coach, I lost it." He shoved the money into his pocket, relieved his problem had solved itself. Everything was going to be okay after all.

When Butch got home Brick and Boomer were playing a video game on the couch. "Guys, we're in huge trouble. Did you see who they replaced Seymour with?"

Boomer looked at Brick. Brick rolled his eyes. "Who?" Boomer asked.

"Ms. Keane, our old 5th grade teacher."

"Oh." Brick shrugged. "That makes sense." He and Boomer went back to the game.

"Why would they make a grade-school teacher the principal?" Boomer asked.

"I can't believe you guys aren't more worried about this," Butch said. "That woman is a taskmaster!"

Brick sighed.

"I remember her being really nice," Boomer said.

"That woman will chew us up and spit us out."

"No, just you," Brick mumbled.

Brick and Boomer stopped their game. Boomer went to the kitchen looking for a snack. Brick headed upstairs.

"Hey man. I joined the football team," Butch said to Brick. "Are you going to come to the game?"

"Why the hell would I go to a high-school football game?"

"I'll be playing, and it's football."

"But I don't get to play."

"The coach really wanted me on the team. I bet you could get on as a running back."

"Pass." Brick tucked a pair of books under his arm and floated up toward his room.

"Bro," Butch called. Brick stopped and looked down at him. Butch pursed his lips. "Come on, man."

Brick stared at him for a long moment. "Do exactly as Ms. Keane says, and I'll be there."

Shit.

Butch's room was a mess, and that was how he liked it. All of his stuff covered the floor. He didn't want a fancy dresser or anything. He always knew where his stuff was because it was all out in the open where he could see it. He had a bare mattress on the floor, no bed frame. Everything he needed was on the floor, his bong, empty bottles of Jim Daniels, and his keyboard.

Butch sat on his mattress and leaned against the wall. His hand automatically found his stash of pot, his bong, and a lighter. He didn't get as far as opening his window before he remembered he couldn't smoke until he passed that stupid drug test.

That reminded him, he hadn't taken his pill. Years before, Brick had given him a box full of bags of pills. They looked like drug cereal. He had said just take one a day, and Butch had for a long time.

He looked into the closet and dug through the pile of crap in it, clothes and whatever. Under the random clothes, weights, and other stuff, he found the box completely empty. He found empty pill bottles and torn up bags but no pills. He was out. Must've meant he didn't need them anymore.

He smiled to himself, finally done with it, and fell asleep.

"Butch, I'll be sitting in on your first few sessions," Ms. Keane said ferrying him to the library after school was over.

Butch's heart sank. There was no getting out of it. Any other teacher would get sloppy, leave the classroom to take a call, which really meant they would go have a smoke behind the building. Ms. Keane would watch him like a hawk. She knew every trick and never gave anyone any leeway. Her word was law.

He opened the big book he had gotten for English class for the first time. It was stupid, he already knew English. Why did they want him to study it?

What was he doing? Learning stupid school junk? He didn't need any of that. He wasn't going to college, he wasn't some nerd. So why was he even there? Why did the school need him to get good grades, all he needed to do was play football. As long as he threw balls where they needed to go and won games he should have been fine.

Maybe he could talk to the coach and see if he could get him out of it. Not like he was some goody two-shoes anyway. His brothers might've forgotten who they were, but Butch hadn't. He was a bad guy.

Ms. Keane stalked down the row of chairs. Butch's neck twitched.

Ms. Keane had arrived at the office early on her first day. She showed her ID to the overnight security guard and he let her into administration. She took the next hour to arrange her desk, set up her computer, and familiarize herself with the budget.

The secretary lumbered in an hour before the school opened.

Ms. Keane went to greet her. "Good morning. I am Margaret Keane, the new principal." She extended her hand.

She took her hand and shook. "Linda Ratchet," she said in a rough voice. The smell of cigarettes lingered around her tired eyelids.

"Ms. Ratchet, I have been brought in because this school has special needs."

Ms. Ratchet snorted. "You got that right."

Ms. Keane thought she should get to the point of her request. "Please give me any information you have regarding the supers in this school."

"You want a rundown? Here's all you need to know, there are these boys, the Rowdyruff Boys-"

"Yes, I am familiar with the boys. What can you tell me about the others?"

"No, no, lady. These Rowdyruff Boys are unlike anything you-"

"Ms. Ratchet, I was their fifth grade teacher. I can assure you, I know who they are and what they are capable of."

Ms. Ratchet looked at her flatly. She ducked behind a filing cabinet and searched through it. File after file fell onto the counter with a heavy 'slap'. Each was a different color.

"Alright then." Ms. Ratchet picked up the goldenrod file. "Let's start with Princess Morbucks. You know her?"

Ms. Keane took a step toward Ms. Ratchet. "Yes. She is much more unpredictable than the boys."

"Yeah, well, she's Queen Bitch around here."

Ms. Keane understood faculty needed to blow off steam, but this type of mindset toward the children was unproductive and fostered an 'us versus them' mentality. She would need to lead a series of seminars to reverse the damage Butte had done.

Of course, Ms. Keane knew what Princess Morbucks was capable of. "Has she brought any weapons to school?"

"No, but her father bought her way into the AP classes. No one talks about it, but everyone is being paid off. No one will ever admit it, mind you. The situation isn't discussed. Sounds like a super to me."

Princess Morbucks had always exhibited an intelligence beyond her peers, much like Blossom. However, she hid it from her fellow students, though never from her instructors. Ms. Keane doubted Princess hadn't earned her place.

"You want to talk weapons." Ms. Ratchet picked up the white file "Dexter McPhearson, so called 'boy-genus'. He's known for bringing weapons to school. He's never hurt anyone, but he has caused damage to the school when he clashes with..." Ms. Ratchet held up a black file. "Mandark Astro-whatever." More disrespect toward the students. She owed it to them to at least try to pronounce their last names. "Same as Dexter, but worse." She picked up the white file. "Don't put these two in the same room. They'll either end up fighting, or working together. Either one is bad, both is worse."

She picked up the violet file. "Soyun Chen. She was caught with a bottle of what she told us was 'grape soda'. It weren't no grape soda. That same day we found a student acting like a chicken and wouldn't snap out of it. We can't prove it, but we think they're related."

Ms. Ratchet picked up the magenta file. "Suzy. We don't know, but there is something about that kid. I watched her walk through a collapsing building, not a scratch on her." She slapped more files on her desk. "Telekinesis, invisibility, control over water." She dropped a file onto the desk for each one. "Take your pick." She picked up the aqua colored folder on top. "You have no idea how much the janitors hate this kid."

She assembled a stack. Red, pink, goldenrod, magenta, white, violet, and orange. "These seven share most of their classes. I suggest you start there."

Ms. Keane spied the side of the pink file, 'Blossom'. She wondered why Blossom had a file, Blossom had become the perfect young woman. There must have been some strange reason Butte had treated her differently, and Ms. Keane had a hypothesis. She made a mental note to schedule special training for the AP teachers.

Ms. Ratchet flipped her fingers through the other files, there must have been over twenty. "These are the minor threats."

Ms. Keane focused on those files. Boomer was in there somewhere. He had started the mess by not being able to control himself, and Ms. Ratchet considered him a 'minor threat'. She had a lot of work ahead of her if she was going to change the school's student culture.