Helga G Pataki: Hillwood's New Superhero

by KlutzyMaiden123

As if my life hadn't already been difficult. I already had to watch the love of my life, Arnold, make goo-goo eyes at little Miss Perfect, Lila Sawyer, while completely ignoring me. Now, I have to juggle school, keeping my feelings for him secret and battling evil dressed in a skimpy bathing suit, all the while keeping my lifestyle as a superhero from my nosey classmates.

3. Wonder Woman: The Superhero in Training

HUGE thank you to everyone who favourited and followed the story. Thank you: OToxicRose0, Biruka, Cherry Pines 14, Dhamariza1.5, HipsterFangirl68, Lady Mia Granger, mistykid94, soulessgirl15, xTheo, Badwolf123456, HelgaGeraldine, Yali .Page and Nikki Pond! Y'all are dolls and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Personalized thank you's are down the bottom for my special reviewers ;)

Little warning: I realized while writing this that it actually gets kinda graphic towards the end. Nothing to bad, but just a little heads up.

---

It's not that I hadn't stayed up late before.

It wasn't uncommon when I found myself scrambling to complete homework I'd put off until the night before, or bingeing TV shows I'd just discovered—in fact, Jessica Jones had recently caught my interest. Hell, there had even been times when my fights with Bob had so much that they'd ended with me slamming the front door and not coming back for hours.

But this? Yeah, it sucked.

Don't get me wrong, none of the above had happened last night. I hadn't stayed up watching anything or panicked trying to finish overdue homework—I hadn't even fought with Bob. No, instead I'd spent last night dressed in a tiny leotard, running around with a talking cat and—oh yeah, fighting some weird alien.

Of course, after getting home, I'd wanted to get some sleep. Nel had even explained the significance that sleep had on the average person, let alone a teenage apparent superhero. But by the time my eyes had managed to shut, my mind was stuck in a loop, replaying the night's events—over and over and over again. That Mutant's gaze was searing, its large fists flying for my face. But this time I couldn't defend myself—my hands, my legs . . . they were restricted.

I shook my head.

Eventually, at some point in the morning, I'd managed to catch some shut eye. Barely, but hey, it was a start.

So, with that in mind, I can hardly be blamed when I almost stumbled into yet another object. This time, it had been a streetlight. Before it'd been a garbage bin, two other cars and a parking meter. I grimaced, the day had barely begun but I already knew that it would be an especially long one.

As my feet shuffled around the corner and down the next street, my gaze fell onto a hunched form. My vision was already blurry, so I had to squint to recognise the body—Arnold.

He stood at the bottom of his steps, waiting for our morning bus as usual, with his backpack slung over one shoulder. His blue gaze was glued to the screen in his hands, which was hooked to a pair of white earbuds. Right, he must've been watching something—maybe a funny youtube video or something. Whatever it was, it must've been interesting considering how flabbergasted he looked.

I wordlessly arrived next to him, about a metre away from him. He didn't look up—thank god—and kept watching his stupid video. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I avoided looking at the magnificent creature next to me. I swallowed, the salvia feeling thicker than usual, and cast my gaze along the road that stretched in front of us. I lowered my chin as if to lower the temptation, but my mind continued to burn with the temptation to peek at him.

Don't do it, Helga, I mentally whispered. Don't look at that beautiful, blonde Adonis right next to you. Not even once. Not even from the corner of your eyes. You're too good for tha—

My stomach dropped like a rock when I recognised a familiar feline perched across from me. She stood at the foot of the swing set, at the park across the road, and had her violet eyes trained unblinkingly on me.

Nel! My jaw dropped, along with it my heart. What're you doing?!

I checked to see if Arnold had noticed the glaring freakzoid across the road, but thankfully he still hadn't looked up. I released a small breath, because, depending on how nosey he was, a purple-eyed cat could earn his confusion, which might lead to questions. Though, I suppose a part of me was slightly annoyed that he hadn't noticed a particularly important subject of interest—me.

Really Helga, isn't it obvious? I turned back to her narrowed gaze, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. God, even with telepathy, her tone was still grating. And patronising. I'm watching over you.

I'm sure that made perfect sense in her brain, but in my one, it just confused me. I tilted my head slightly, scrunching my brows together. Watching over me? Why?

She rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious. I pressed my lips together—well, excuse me for not having a clue how this stupid cat functioned.

Because, as your mentor, it's my job to make sure nothing happens to you.

I rose a sceptic brow. You? Protect me? Excuse me, but who, out of the two of us, delivered a major smackdown last night? I crossed my arms across my chest, feeling my eyes slightly droop. What're you gonna do, scratch the eyes out of anyone you don't like the look of? Ooh, I feel so safe already.

The look Nel shot could've sent Bob running for the hill with his tail tucked between his legs, but frankly, it made me laugh. I couldn't help it, there was just something so ridiculous about this cat displaying such human characteristics. Also, for how mature she seemed to believe she was, her response was pretty childish. She stopped for a moment, taking in my reaction, before poking her nose in the air and looking away. The act only made me laugh harder—serves her right.

"Helga?"

I froze, my stomach squirming like a batch of jellyfish. His voice was so warm and closer than what I remembered.

Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't—

I looked at him and found myself utterly captured by those glimmering green eyes. They were so vibrants and shone with a gentle, hypnotizing kindness. He was smiling at me, the way you would to a strange, but that didn't stop the fire spreading in my chest.

"I didn't notice you there," he said politely, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

Damn it, how did he always do this to me? Even after becoming a . . . well, whatever last night, Arnold still had a way of making me act like a dumb, love–struck teenage girl (yes, I'm perfectly aware that I am, in a teenager and that of a female, however that is beside the point).

Criminy, Helga, you bloody idiot, I told you not to look at him.

Of course, not looking at him would've made me look like some weird, hostile individual that for no discernible reason, hated his very existence. I mean, I'm sure he already thought that, but doing so would've made him think that more about you and—

"Well, of course you didn't, football head," I snapped, gripping my bag straps and looking away. Thankfully, Nel had scrammed, so I didn't have to worry about him seeing her. "You were too busy with your dumb phone."

Oh fuck, that came out far too accusatory then what I was comfortable with. It wasn't like I was Arnold's—I blushed—girlfriend or anything. Who was I to lecture him about noticing my presence when we barely even spoke?

Shit, what if he thought I was jealous of his phone? What if he thought I was one of those girls who needed to constantly monitor their boyfriend's phone because they suspected they were cheating on them? What if he thought I was super clingy? What if he saw through my lies and saw the disgustingly pathetic girl with a monster huge crush on him?

Well, what else, Helga—he'd be creeped out. Like, mega creeped out. I can see it all right now—he'd point his finger at me, declare me insane for thinking he could actually care about me, turn around and leave and probably never talk to me again. Then, he'd tell everybody how obsessed I am about him and they'd all be disgusted and Phoebe would stop being my friend, then my life would be ruined, I'd quit being a superhero, then the Mutants would take over, then they'd tell everyone about my crush, then the whole world would laugh at me and—

"Right, sorry," Arnold chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. I blinked, at a loss. Had I missed something? "I was just watching this video Gerald sent me last night and—"

"Wow, football head, I don't remember asking for your life's story," I sneered.

Arnold nodded, his gaze lowering back to his phone, and inwardly, I cringed. Because yowza's that was harsh, but I couldn't have him picking up on the mental detour that heavily featured him. Still, I couldn't help that small bit of curiosity that itched from the back of my mind.

"Uh, what exactly did Gerald send you?"

Of course, that small bit of curiosity? Yeah, it was nothing compared to the overwhelming sense of dread in my chest. I wasn't psychic, but I could wager a bet on what it was that had Arnold so captivated with his phone.

Arnold's face snapped up, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, and I clamped my mouth shut. It was like I had won the lottery ticket, with the way he was—oh, dang, he was smiling at me. And not only that, but it was beautiful. Like, seriously, it rivalled the sun shining down on us, and reminded me of the poetry Shakespeare would write when describing his perfect women.

I looked away, more than aware that I probably looked like a pitiful blushing maiden. One in an ugly school uniform, which honestly probably showcased my red face more with its crimson fabric. I wrapped my fingers along the seams, as if that would hide the throbbing pulse so strong I could feel it in my hands.

Arnold, as usual, didn't realise the effect he had on me. "Gerald managed to get actual footage of last night," he gushed, stepping closer. "It's of that girl and that monster—can you believe it?!"

Yep, my suspicions were confirmed.

Arnold had a video of me.

I gulped, ready to chuck my school bag and sprint for the hills (or wherever it was that Nel had gone off too). I could barely handle talking to Arnold normally, let alone about masked women with superpowers that could take down aliens twice her size with only a tiny knife. Women who just so happened to be me. No thanks, I was decent at controlling the emotions I displayed across my face, but most certainly not when Arnold was involved. Oh, and even less so under these circumstances.

Still, there was a part of me that wondered what he thought about me—I mean, Blue Jay. Hell, this whole situation was beyond weird. It was something I'd expect out of a comic book or a—

Oh, Jesus, when did Arnold's face get so close? Like, really close. Really, uber, super close.

At some point during my mental escapade, Arnold had shifted his phone under my face and moved in closer to watch it. I gulped, feeling not only my cheeks, but my entire face burst into flames. I wasn't a person who enjoyed close proximities, but I couldn't find the usual defensiveness that hit me when a line was crossed.

Neither of us were touching, but I could feel the warmth from his body brushing against my own. And now that we were standing mere inches from each other, I realised just how much taller he was. I was averaged sized, but he had really sprouted, and had to bend slightly just to reach my height. I never realised how, well, nice that was.

Of course, Arnold was too innocent to understand what he did to me. His eyes were locked on the tiny screen in his palm and a dorky grin spread across his face. My stomach, at this point, was doing enough flips to make Kim Possible jealous, and I quickly turned my attention to his phone.

The footage was shaky, and the shadows were thick, but you could still see . . . her. She stood like a beacon of light, burning against the dark. My abdomen curled, it was different seeing my alter ego fighting from a perspective other than my own. You couldn't see the panic or fear racing through my chest. All you saw was a determined young woman with mysterious, wonderful powers.

The fire in my cheeks cooled as I watched her launch the knife into the air. In my head, it had lasted for hours and I'd held my breath so firmly that my head had spun. But in reality, it had taken mere seconds for the knife to lodge itself into the Mutant's flesh.

I grimaced when the Mutant howled, recollections of my nightmare whirling in my mind.

"I know," Arnold said, frowning with sympathy and pausing the video. My heart stuttered when he shoved his phone into his pocket and moved so he was facing me. "It's a little graphic, huh?"

He'd misunderstood my reaction, but I couldn't exactly correct that assumption. I wasn't about to go telling everyone that I was that girl—well, woman from last night.

All I could manage was a short, "Wow."

Because what else was there to say? I'd just witnessed myself killing something. I didn't know if I should be proud or ashamed. It'd been a Mutant, intent on terrorising innocent people, but I couldn't that guilt. I folded my arms across my chest, locking my knees together. I didn't know how to feel about any of this.

"I know, right?" Arnold grinned, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "Isn't she amazing?"

Oh. Arnold thought I was speechless because of Blue Jay, not because I'd witnessed myself doing . . . that. Although, to be fair, this whole thing was bizarre, downright fictional. It had just come out that not only aliens were real, but apparently superpowers as well. I should be happy that Arnold was choosing only to focus on her and not the—

Wait a minute.

My heart thundered as my brain registered the near puppy dog look of admiration swelling in his eyes. His lip was caught between his teeth, and his cheeks appeared slightly pink.

"Um, football head," I hesitated, playing with the ends of my shirt and feeling my cheeks burning. "What do you actually think of this girl?"

In hindsight, it probably wasn't smart to ask. But since when had I done anything remotely smart?

His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink and lips slightly dropped. I watched with a fluttery stomach as he averted his gaze, shoving his hands into his pockets, and shuffled his feet.

"Um, what do you mean?" he asked, his shoulders slightly slumping.

And of course, because I was me, I panicked.

"Uh, not that you're not justified or anything, because, um, wow, that was totally neato and cool and—geeze, who would've thought? Real life superhero and all. But um—" I cringed, ducking my face when Arnold looked back at me, his eyes confused. "Well, you're only focusing on her and not, well, whatever that is and . . . you seem to kinda admire her . . ."

The moment I said those words, I wanted to get struck with a lightning bolt. Because Jesus, could I sound anymore nosey? Hell, I was sounding like that stupid, jealous girlfriend I'd invented before.

Thankfully, Arnold didn't seem to put off with my enquiries.

"Well, can you blame me?" his eyes softened, looking at nothing in particular, and the corners of his mouth lifted. "I mean, I don't really know what the was last night—no one does—but whatever it was . . . she saved us. She—Blue Jay, she protected us against that thing—whatever it was. I just . . . it's admirable."

Oh, shit.

The tone alone practically confirmed it. It was so soft, more than usual, and gentle, it reminded me of a molten gold that wrapped you up like a blanket. And his eyes, they were so full of affection, in a way that reminded me of the times he saw Lila in the mornings. There was no denying it—Arnold had a thing for Blue Jay . . . who was me.

I felt my entire body turn red—my cheeks, my face and my . . . knees? How the hell were my knees blushing?

No, fuck that, I didn't care. All that was going through my head was that realisation, that Arnold had a thing for me.

He suddenly froze, apparently realising who he was speaking to. His eyes darted to my face and the smile dropped from his lips.

"I–I mean, n–not that I, well, y–yeah . . ." he trailed off, nudging his toe against the pavement. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took a mighty gulp, wrapping his hands around his bag straps. I stare at him before realising that, at some point, my jaw had dropped and hurriedly clamped my mouth shut.

Mirroring his movements, I turned away and twisted my fingers around my straps, subtly trying to dry the sweat off. "O–Okay," was all I could manage.

My heart was practically in my throat, I had no idea how to react to this—any of it. The poet in my yearned to declare that it was me he apparently admired—me, Helga G. Pataki. That I was Blue Jay, and more than happy to love him like he seemed to me.

Then I froze.

Arnold's feelings weren't for me, that much had been established years ago. It was a safe assumption to make that I creeped him out more than anything. Building anything around that was pretty much impossible. And not only that, but who was to say that Arnold even had feelings for this girl? I never was good at reading people and I'd made that mistake more than once. Especially when it came to Arnold. Whatever it was that he felt towards Blue Jay, be it admiration or more, it was directed towards her, not me. Hell, it was more than likely to be pure and simple admiration; Arnold wasn't the type to fall for someone he didn't know. I mean, Blue Jay was undoubtedly beautiful, but that didn't automatically earn one's affections, especially not his. And that aside, it had only been one night, there was no way Arnold could make his mind up so quickly about her like that.

Right then—it was settled. Arnold couldn't be in love with Blue Jay, or anything silly like that, because he didn't know her. He was the type to fall for one's heart rather than their appearance. And considering he didn't know her heart, he couldn't possibly like her—like that at least.

I nodded to myself. The only feelings Arnold could have for Blue Jay were of admiration. Nothing silly or romantic.

At least, I hope so.

Otherwise if, for some reason, he had fallen for Blue Jay, then not only was little Miss Perfect my rival, but somehow I was.

. . . well, this suddenly got fucking complex.

---

The bus was positively thriving with talk of the mysterious Blue Jay and that epic battle last night. People were shouting across the bus, overhearing discussions about her, and chiming in to give their own opposing views. Gerald himself had been in a debate with a nerdy–looking kid when Arnold and I had gotten on. Of course, he had looked over me at Arnold, and a smile zapped across his face. He moved aside his stuff, and the boys both did that lame handshake before diving into their own conversation about it all.

I had rolled my eyes and settled into a seat two rows from then. Not because I cared for their views, but because all the other spots had been taken. Pasting my back against the window, I pulled my hoodie over my head and shoved my hands into my pockets. I was tempted to pull out my headphones but decided against it. It was so odd to hear other people gushing about me—approvingly, that is. Granted, they had no idea that it was me they were talking about, but still.

"—where do you think she came from—"

"—maybe she's an alien—"

"—I heard she's from the government—"

"—maybe she's part of the Avengers—"

"—Serena, the Avengers are fictional—"

"—you don't know that, Molly—"

"—what was that thing she was fighting—"

Their words lost meaning as the voices dulled to a sombre murmur. Bleary–eyed, I lowered my chin, pinching my nose. The lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to me, I could barely keep my head up. Last night's fight was a cinch compared to this battle against my eyelids. The little suckers kept shutting and I was finding it harder and harder to . . . keep . . . opening . . .

Thunk!

An ungraceful snort fell from my mouth as I shot up, rubbing my red forehead. Damn it, why did that keep happening? I'd already been falling asleep walking to the stop before, why did I have to add smashing my head into the seat bar to that list?

Grumbling to myself, I rubbed my eyes. It seemed that I was right—today was going to be a long day.

"So, where do you think she came from, Gerald?"

Somehow, Arnold's voice managed to cut through the multitude of others. I rose my face, seeking the direction in which his angelic voice had come from. Strangely, he wasn't seating next to Gerald anymore; instead, the dark–skinned male was in front of him, turned around to face his best friend and, ugh, Lila. My grip on the seat bar was white knuckled, she was sat right next to Arnold.

I tried looking away, but my eyes kept returning back to the couple. Arnold's gaze flickered to the redheaded beauty beside him, scanning her features with a soft, affectionate smile.

My heart throbbed. Oh, how I wished he would look at me like that.

Gerald smirked, raising his chin slightly. "I'm so glad you asked, Arnold." I wanted to puke at his disgustingly smug tone. "There are multiple theories as to where she actually came from. Personally, I believe that she and that monster are both experiments from the illuminati."

My jaw dropped. What?

Lila voiced my thoughts. "What?"

"Think about it!" Gerald burst, holding up a finger and looking between them excitedly. "We all know how the illuminati are, and their thirst for power—who's to say they haven't been doin' a little experimenting to make the perfect weapon? That monster thing could be an experiment which got outta hand, so the girl is their attempt to fix the mistake. I mean, did you see her strength? Clearly, she's not normal."

Well, no shit, dumbass.

Lila shook her head. "Gerald," she sighed, looking at him piteously. "I think you've been watching ever too many conspiracy theory videos. Again."

Gerald shot her a dirty look.

"How would they have made her so fast then? And strong?" Arnold questioned, stroking his chin.

For the second time, my jaw dropped. Please tell me that Arnold did not believe this.

"Easy," Gerald seemed please that someone was taking his theory seriously and shifted to fully face him. Lila scoffed, but Gerald ignored her and crossed his arms with a grin. "Genetic engineering, man."

"I find that ever so hard to believe," Lila remarked. "I mean, last time I checked genetic engineering in humans was illegal, let alone impossible."

"Ah! But that, my dear friend," Gerald sent a mischievous wink to Lila, who rose a sceptic brow in response, "is what they want you to think. C'mon, the illuminanti's always starting shit. Frankly, I don't think she's an alien, but an experiment from the illuminati sent to rid her fellow experiment gone wrong."

"Well, what about her powers, then? How would you explain that? Or is that also a result of genetic engineering?"

I blinked when three pairs of eyes turned in my direction. What the hell? Why were they staring at me like that?

Then I realised that that sceptic voice questioning Gerald's flimsy theories had been mine. Somehow, my mouth kept going, and I blurted out, "I mean, I'm not exactly sure what the extent of genetic engineering would be, but I'm pretty sure throwing up magical shields is not one of the perks that come with it. Strength and speed—sure. But magic? Definitely not."

Lila and Arnold gaped at me, and I could hardly blame them. I hadn't gone out of my way to talk to them since elementary. Of all the things to push me to do so once again, a mysterious comic book superhero would've been the furthest thing from anyone's minds.

Although, to be fair, stranger things had happened.

Gerald narrowed his eyes. "Well what do you know about genetic engineering, then?"

He had practically sneered it, which had made Arnold glance at him with a disapproving frown. Lila, on the other hand, kept her eyes on me, a slightly impressed look on her face.

"Uh, apparently more then you, Tall Hair Boy," I responded coolly. "Genetic engineering enhances human capabilities, it doesn't create new ones."

A beat of silence passed, and Arnold slowly turned back to me with an indecipherable look on his face.

And it began to sink in; somehow, I'd ended up entering a debate with Gerald Johansson about Blue Jay's origins. Or rather my origins. Something that both shocked and puzzled me. Blue Jay aside, I generally kept to myself on the bus, with my hoodie drawn up and my earphones in, and never conversed with anyone.

Much less Gerald.

I rubbed my temple. The lack of sleep must've been getting to me.

Lila's hands pressed to her mouth as soft pearls of laughter fell—nay, floated out. The sound alone made me pause. Seriously, was everything about her ridiculously ladylike?

"She has a fair point, Gerald," she admitted, flashing me an approving grin. "Your theory does have ever so many holes in it, after all."

Gerald's jaw went slack, and his cheeks turned a rosy pink. "You're taking her side?"

"There's no side, Gerald," Arnold calmly injected, but was ignored.

"Why not?" Lila shrugged nonchalantly. "She raises a fair point. Besides, if this Blue Jay was truly sent from the illuminati, where is her gun? She only had a knife, from what I could see anyway. No gun. And I sincerely doubt she'd be sent to take down such a creature without the aid of a gun if it was the illuminati."

Mentally, I rolled my eyes. The illuminati may not have sent Blue Jay without a gun, but Nel most certainly would.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Gerald narrowed his eyes at both Lila and I. "Yeah? Then where do you think she came from, if not the illuminati then?"

Oh, crap. Well, done Helga, now you've done it. Why, oh why couldn't you keep your big mouth shut?

"Aren't we being a bit hasty in trying to figure out where she came from?" Lila questioned, pressing her eyebrows together. "I mean, we've only seen her once, yet there's an ungodly amount of theories about her—she's a failed experiment, a weapon, an alien, even a ghost. I think we're focusing too much on the questions and intricate backstories instead of what matters—she saved us last night. From whatever that thing had been. Had it not been for her, a lot more people would have been rushed to the hospital. We should be more grateful for her."

My dislike for Lila was momentarily dropped for gratitude I felt toward her words. I swear, I almost wrapped my arms around her and delivered a sloppy kiss—almost.

Clearing my throat, I nodded in agreement. "Y–Yeah, ditto. Who the hell cares where she came from? Her actions speak louder, in my opinion."

My opinion being the superior one, obviously.

The corners of Lila mouth lifted into a slow grin. "Besides," she added, crossing her arms. "I would much rather find out about that thing she was fighting. Seems positively frightening."

Never mind, Lila.

Gerald frowned at us and opened his mouth to further the debate when Arnold pointedly cleared his throat. "So, um, Gerald, what do you think of Blue Jay, then? As a person, I mean."

Gerald paused. "Well," he rested his chin between his thumb and index finger, looking up in thought. "She is kinda hot."

Three jaws dropped in unison.

And Gerald became the victim to three objections.

"—are you serious—"

"—she saved us—"

"—and all you can think about is that she's hot—"

"—so degrading—"

"Alright, alright!" Gerald held up his hands, silencing our protests. "Okay, fair enough—but c'mon, can you blame me? Did you see what she was wearing—or the lack of it?"

He waggled his brows, and for the hundredth time that day, blood rushed to my face. It was bad enough that I had to fight in that stuff, I didn't need Gerald of all people pointing it out.

"Not really," Lila admitted with a shrug. "I was ever so distracted by the monster twice her size with horns coming from its head."

Gerald gave her a dirty look then turned to Arnold pleadingly. "C'mon, buddy, I can't be the only one who noticed! You had to have looked!"

Lila and I both raised our eyebrows at Arnold, who's cheeks glowed red under our accusatory glares. Gulping, he averted his gaze down to his folded hands. "U–Um, well, it's not like I didn't notice, per say . . ."

Arnold's eyes darted between Lila and I, then retreated back to his hands in his lap. "She was definitely beautiful—sure—I just wasn't focused primarily on that."

Oh, criminy, that did it. Not only did it feel like my cheeks had been set on fire, but simultaneously like someone had set fireworks in my chest. I ducked my head and scratched my cheek to hide the blushing. Yes, I was aware how pathetic I was, but I couldn't help it. Arnold calling Blue Jay beautiful felt like he was calling me that. I mean, she was me, so, in a way, he technically was, but I—

I felt a pair of eyes on me.

Frowning, I looked up and met Lila's confused gaze. Her eyebrows were shoved together, and she had a slightly narrowed look on her face. I could tell that she was confused, questioning why I was the one blushing when Arnold had been talking about someone else. Scrunching my face, I turned away to glare over my shoulder and out the window. A welt of embarrassment rose in my chest because she of all people had been the one to catch me acting like a blushing Nancy.

The landscape outside was mostly grey, a blur of grey pavement, silver cars, but also a blue sky. I could see Lila's face slightly in the reflection, and the way she lifted an eyebrow at me. I was about to tell her to mind her own, when my attention was pulled back to the boys, who apparently hadn't noticed anything.

Gerald was giving Arnold a particularly sly smirk, punching him playfully on the shoulder. "Ooh, looks like our wittle baby Arnold did notice a few things about her after all," he sung teasingly.

The grin he wore stretched further when Arnold's cheeks glowed brighter. I couldn't help ducking my head as Gerald continued to tease Arnold. The poor boy's cheeks were so red that his oblong–shaped head resembled a tomato. Or a red banana.

"Helga?"

Startled, I looked up into Lila's still confused stare. She examined my red cheeks and panicked face with suspicious eyes. I pulled my hoodie further over my face, trying to cover my cheeks, but the damage had already done. And by now, it wasn't just her who had noticed my silence, the boys had even stopped conversing to look at me strangely.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "You look ever so red."

Lila, I hate you.

My heart was throbbing underneath Arnold's gaze, even if it wasn't full of animosity in the slightest. Still, gulping, I looked away from them. "Uh, y–y–yeah, of c–course, I'm f–fine—why the hell wouldn't I be?"

My voice was shaking like a leaf, and mentally I kicked myself. If my behaviour hadn't been enough to convince them that I was most definitely not alright, then surely my stuttering was.

Something in the near distance caught my eyes and I sat up straight. "O–Oh, would you look at that? We're here!"

And before anyone could so much as open their mouths, I had already leapt to my feet and hightailed it out of there just as the doors shuttered open. The distance that I put between myself and the bus rapidly grey, yet I could still hear Gerald whistle.

"Damn, she moves fast."

---

If the talk of Blue Jay on the bus had been a buzz, then this was an outright roar. The minute I stepped into the hallways, I was hit with a multitude of voices so thick it was like a wall, recounting last night's events. People tossed around questions, elaborate backstories and re–enactments like kids would their Pokémon's (I imagined, I'd never played). I frowned when, on more than one occasion, I heard comparisons to Wonder Woman.

A yawn managed to escape me as I slumped down the hall, reminding me just how tired I was. My shoulders slouched, I mentally berated Nel. That dumb cat had taken it upon herself to wake me up by pouncing onto my face at six in the morning—two hours after I'd managed to fall asleep. She had even brushed off my annoyance at that, stating that it could've been worse, she could've used her claws instead. And then, she actually had the nerve to turn the lecture around on me, complaining that had I slept earlier, I wouldn't be so 'grouchy'.

Criminy, I wouldn't even have this problem if it wasn't for her.

And not only that, but after I'd managed to climb out of bed, she continued to nit-pick everything and anything under the sun.

Especially my hoodie.

For whatever reason, Nel had decided that she despised my hoodie with a burning passion. Clenching my jaw, I thought back to earlier this morning, when I'd been getting ready.

---

"Helga, is that hoodie apart of your uniform?"

"Huh?"

Tearing my gaze from my reflection, I gave Nel a bemused look over my shoulder. The black feline was perched on the top of my windowsill, which was against my right wall. My room was quite a widespread area; the walls were still that same shade of teal I'd had since I was a child (fat load of luck, tryna convince Bob I'd outgrown the colour) and beneath the clothes were the wooden floorboards. The back wall was where my bed was, and next to that was my vanity, which was mostly full of junk that I hardly used anymore. The door to my bathroom was to the right and next to that was my closet.

Nel was eyeing the hoodie that popped out from the collar of my blazer, her tail sharply flicking behind her.

"Uh, why does it matter?"

She wrinkled her nose distastefully. "It just looks, well, sloppy, doesn't it?"

Oh, brother.

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the mirror above my vanity. It was large and silhouetted with a white, curvy design made from wood, spiralling down to the desk. I grabbed my pink brush and tugged it through my hair in an attempt to tame it into its usual style.

"Look, Nel, you may be my—erm—mentor, or whatever—" I grimaced when I yanked a sensitive spot. "—but you are most certainly not my stylist. Got it?"

Especially not after what I was forced to wear last night.

"I'm not your maid either, Helga," she frowned. "You should be able to get out of bed without me—you're sixteen, after all." I rolled my eyes. "And stop rolling your eyes. It's extremely rude."

"Oh, please," I scoffed, tossing down the brush to look at Nel's reflection. "Like you haven't rolled your eyes at least twenty times today alone."

"One can hardly blame me," she bit out, ears drawing back. "When half the things that come out of your mouth are truly idiotic, Helga."

I gritted my teeth, seriously fighting the urge to smack this stupid cat. Why had I agreed to become a Guardian again?

The look on my face must've been nasty, because without another word, Nel sniffed and turned away from me. My jaw dropped—was she serious? And I was the immature one?

Scowling, I turned back to my reflection and examined the face that stared back. It was nothing like Blue Jay; it wasn't made up, or good–looking, or well–shaped, but it was mine. My eyes were brown and dull, unlike the bright blue of Blue Jay's, and my eyebrows so heavy that I had to pluck them every few weeks. Tiny dark spots inhabited my skin, and there was even a patch of zits on the right side of my chin. Frowning, I lightly touched it, grimacing at the uneven bumps beneath my fingers. It was still slightly pink, contrasting with the paleness of the rest of my face.

I looked down at the pin in front of me, placed squarely in the middle of the vanity. Blue Jay didn't have zits; hell, I bet her kind didn't even know what zits were. Clenching my jaw, I tied my hair up into its two signature ponytails and stuffed the pin in my pocket. I wished I could cover up that patch with my concealer, but I had already used it to cover the bags under my eyes. The tube wasn't big to begin with and I was already running out, might as well save it for more necessary reasons.

Turning back to Nel, I tugged on the hem of my blazer, straightening out the wrinkles, and pushed back my shoulders. Apparently, she had gotten over her hissy fit because she back to staring at me with bemusement.

Clearing my throat, I forced a smile. "So, how do I look?"

She looked unimpressed. "Those rings around your eyes are big enough to rival those of Saturn," she said, then paused. "And also like you're about to mug me."

Throwing my hands to the side, I glared at her. "Would you quit it about the hoodie?!"

Snatching my bag from my bed, I marched across the room and slammed the door behind me. Like Nel had any right to lecture me on what she wore. So what if I looked a little sketch? I happen to like my hoodie, thank you very much.

My movements were slow and sluggish as I climbed down the stairs. I imagined that, given how drowsy I felt, I could've passed for a zombie, dressed in a lame uniform. But without the lust for brains, of course (not that I'd find any in this house).

There was a chatter from downstairs that made me pause. I quirked an eyebrow. It was never loud in the morning. Normally, Miriam was passed out on the couch and Bob had already left for work. Even with Olga temporarily here, the mornings were particularly lively.

I blinked, reaching the living room; Bob, for one thing, was most certainly not at work. Instead, he was crouched in front of the TV with his back to me. He was flicking through the channels and muttering unintelligently to himself. I caught a few words, "Criminy . . . reporters these days . . . only celebrities gettin' knocked up . . ."

Drawing my brows together, I decided I didn't care to know and headed for the kitchen—where most of the noise was coming from. When I entered, I froze and felt my jaw drop slack. I blinked—a few times, actually—but it still remained. The scene, that is. The scene being of complete topsy turvy that I in no way believed was happening.

Miriam wasn't passed out on the couch or at the table. No, she was actually—I kid you not—cooking.

I blinked. Then rubbed my eyes. Then blinked again.

Her back was to me as she leaned over the stove, so she hadn't yet noticed me. Although, to be fair, Miriam could be staring me in the face and probably wouldn't notice me. I couldn't see what it was she was cooking (or attempting to cook. This was Miriam we're talking about), but the sizzling and spits confirmed it to be bacon.

My stomach quietly growled as I inhaled the scent. For once, I was actually tempted to stay back for breakfast, but I knew that more than likely, Miriam would overcook then burn it. She wasn't even paying attention to the food, instead her eyes were following Olga, who pranced around the kitchen.

Olga's hair was tied out of her face, exposing her makeup–free skin, and she had a newspaper in her hands. There was an excitement that twinkled in her eyes and a playful smile tugging on her lips. It was a look, I realised, that I hadn't seen on her for a while, and I couldn't figure out why.

"A–Annd then w–what happened?" Miriam stuttered, eyes large with eagerness.

Olga chuckled and turned back to her current page. "Well, let's see—'witnesses state that the mysterious woman identified herself as Blue Jay, but left without answering any further questions, and made a hasty exit into the night'—ooh, how positively mysterious!"

The realisation that hit me was like a fist to the gut. My heart rushed into my throat and a chill wrapped around me. I knew what they were acting so weird about now—me.

"I–It s–s–sounds so unbelievable," Miriam said, cupping her face. "Liike one of those m–m–movies B loves so much."

On second thoughts, I didn't need lunch today. Nel would bite my head off for skipping another meal, but I'm sure that I could pull through another day. Because quite frankly, I did not want to hear any such news about last night. It was already bizarre having experienced it, hearing about it from someone else's perspective would have my head dangerously spinning again. And I most certainly didn't need to hear it from the two brainless ninnies—

"Oh, baby sis, what a surprise!" I stopped, halting in my escape, and mentally berated my so called luck. "You got up without me!"

Act casual, Helga, I reminded myself. Try acting like you normally would.

I reluctantly turned back around to face the two curious women watching me. I schooled my face into what I hoped was a casual look of indifference and casually folded my arms across my chest. Yep, totally casual.

"It's not like I'm incapable of functioning without you," I told her and raised a brow. "What're you two chuckleheads losin' your marbles over anyway?"

Of course, anyone with half a brain cell could figure out what it was they were talking about.

Olga's eyes practically popped out of their sockets and her smile widened. The paper crinkled between her fingers, the nails painted pink, as she raced to my side.

"Why, little sis!" she shoved the paper under my nose with a wild gesture. "Haven't you heard? Well, I guess you wouldn't since you spent the entire night in your room but there was some type of attack last night! And some guy was saved by a real life superhero! Can you believe it! A female superhero, at that!"

The words on the page were vibrating since she was shaking so much. Rolling my eyes, I acted against my nature and grabbed the paper from Olga's hands to actually read the title.

Hillwood's Own Wonder Woman?!

I blinked. Wonder Woman?

Then, I scowled. Oh, come on, Wonder Woman? Why Wonder Woman? I don't even like Wonder Woman! I mean, sure, our uniforms were kinda similar looking—thanks, Nel, you rat—but other than that, we looked nothing alike. Why couldn't I be Hillwood's Superman? Or even Hillwood's Batman. That would've been so cool, he was so badass. Instead, I got some sissy, bikini–wearing Princess, who's only fans were teenaged boys' way too aware of how little she wore.

Pressing my lips together, I shoved the paper from my face.

She slightly stumbled back and raised both her eyebrows at my reaction.

Unbothered, I held out my palm. "Did you make lunch for me or not?"

I honestly didn't have any time for this. The bus was going to get here any moment and I still hadn't even left. And I really didn't want to have to start today off chasing the bus again.

My question had been reasonable, yet Olga reacted like I had straight up murdered a puppy. Her jaw dropped and her delicate hands flew to cover her mouth. "Why, Helga—you cannot be serious!"

I rose my brow. "What?"

"Baby sis!" Olga's hands suddenly clasped my shoulders and her nose touched mine as she forced me to look into her blue eyes. I swallowed and fought to keep my expression neutral. "Aren't you even a little curious about what happened last night?"

I wasn't lying when I responded with a flat, "No." I'd gotten all my answers last night, after all.

Olga's forehead crinkled as she looked at me almost in disappointment. Uncomfortable, I roughly shoved her away from me. "Alright, back it up, Olga! Criminy, I'm trying to breathe here!"

"Helga, honey," Miriam stepped forward, clutching the spatula in her shaking hands. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her eyes glimmered with something unrecognisable behind her rectangular glasses. "Last night, t—there was a—a—"

"I know what happened last night, Miriam," I rolled my eyes, looking away and placing my hands on my hips. I was beginning to get more and more agitated. I mean, I already knew what happened last night and I really didn't want to have it repeated to me by her. "I'm aware of the attack, I just don't care."

Inwardly, I cringed.

That definitely wasn't an appropriate response. That had sounded upright suspicious and borderline sociopathic.

Miriam and Olga's mouths dropped. "Don't care?!" They repeated, both looking equally horrified.

Well, shit.

"Yeah," Swallowing, I nodded. "Whatever happens out there is where it belongs. It has nothing to do with me. Now, I'm a teenager, about to go on her merry way to school, therefore I need lunch. Did you make it, Olga, or am I making it myself?"

Both stared at me as if I had just pulled a harmonica out of my ear and started playing Ain't No Mountain while jumping up and down on one foot.

"Criminy—finally!"

Heating Bob's booming rumble from the living room behind us, we all jumped in surprise. We turned in sync to the cheering man, curious as to what his sudden excitement was about. Bob threw himself into his usual armchair, eyes glued to the TV that shows two news anchors.

I rose a brow. Since when was Bob excited to watch the news? Honestly, I'd just assumed that it was another commercial for his business, but apparently not.

Groaning, I pinched my nose and let out a breath. Had I entered some weird dimension? Where cats could talk, aliens invaded, and Bob actually enjoyed the news? I knew Bob and I knew he hated the news almost as much as soap operas. The only reason he watched it was to find new ways to complain about others and compare their failures to his successes.

Miriam set the spatula down on the bench and crossed the kitchen into the living room. "What'd you find, B?" she asked, stopping besides his armchair and watching the TV with curious eyes.

"Oooh, Daddy—Daddy!" Olga managed to bump her shoulder into mine as she pushed past me to run to Bob's unoccupied side. "Did you get it?!" Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she looked so excited that she might just burst.

Rolling my eyes, I turned around to the stove to switch off the forgotten bacon. This was why she wasn't allowed to cook anymore.

"Miriam, Olga—" I could hear Bob smirking as he addressed his family. "—I just managed to find a half decent report on that hubbub last night."

My heart dropped and I whirled around. What'd he say?

Olga let loose a high-pitched squeal. "Oh, Daddy, you're an absolute genius!" She threw her arms around his neck, earning a small chuckle from him. "Now we'll get to see her in action!"

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Geeze, what an asskisser.

Wait a minute—

That last part hit me.

—see her in action?

That didn't sound like good news; I mean, us Pataki's weren't exactly a closely-knit family (hell, 'household' described us more accurately that 'family' ever would), but even if we weren't close (excluding Olga, considering she had everyone's hearts), who was to say they wouldn't recognise me?

Yeah, Helga looked nothing like Blue Jay (she didn't even have a similar voice), but with how long I've lived with this bunch, surely they'd recognise something resembling me in her. Perhaps it would be my stance, vocal patterns or even my run. I don't know, but considering they, biologically speaking, were my family, it didn't seem unlikely they'd make a connection — right?

I shook my head. It didn't matter. I'd have to prevent them from seeing that footage. Frowning, I placed my fists to my hips and stepped towards the small crowd around Bob's chair. "Hey, what about my lunch? . . . can someone please—?"

"Miriam," Bob's beady eyes didn't leave the TV as he addressed the middle-aged woman next to him. "Get the girl her lunch, would'cha? Miriam—hey, Miriam!"

I almost facepalmed. Great going, Helga.

Miriam jumped in surprise. "Huh?" She blinked, looking down at Bob then turning to me. She saw my glare but ignored it in favour for the television. "Oh, in a minute, honest—after this report, m'kay?"

I actually did facepalm that time. Not the results I'd been hoping for.

Okay, attempt Prevent-Kinda-Sorta-My-Family-From-Watching-That-Footage-Of-Me 2# was now in action.

Marching across the room, I stood directly in front of the TV with spread out arms. Bob frowned and, in an attempt to watch the report, leaned to the side to make out whatever was happening. He gritted his teeth in frustration and glared at me, but I didn't budge. His dirty looks were a regular occurrence so they hardly rose any alarm anymore. "Listen, little missy, I don't know what's got you so wound tight, but whatever it is you're going through, go through with it somewhere else! Can't you see I'm tryna watch the report?"

"But, Dad—"

"No 'buts—now get outta the way so I can see what all the fuss is about!"

Silently, I glared at him. There was so much I wanted to say to him. Like the reason I was so 'wound up' was the same reason he was trying to watch the news. He probably thought it was typical 'teenage girl problems' that involved boys, gossip, friends or something. I wish he was right—I wish that was all I was angry about.

I scowled and open my mouth to yell at him—

"—the attack occurred early in the night at Tina Park," the reporter's voice pulled my attention and I found myself looking over my shoulder. The two news anchors—a brunette female and redheaded male—sat at a desk as they directly addressed the camera. "The victim, Michael Buckley, had been walking home from his job at the Bowling Alley, when he was assaulted by an unidentified assailant."

I snorted, turning to face the TV. Assailant—yeah, good word.

The scene of the two anchors was replaced with shaky footage of a fight I was familiar with. I felt my body pale as I watched her fight the deformed Mutant. The footage was awkward, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see what was happening. Some masked woman, in a revealing white bathing suit, was combating some type of monster.

"—witnesses described the attacker as some type of wild animal," the female anchor repeated over the flashing images. "However, police have yet to confirm further on this creature's possible species."

I watched as a blue light suddenly sprung into existence from Blue Jay's open palms and formed a protective wall around her. The Mutant's fist collided with the wall, but she remained untouched, eyes blazing with perseverance. She pushed her arms forward and sent the Mutant flying into the air. I was surprised by the look of pure determination on Blue Jay's face as she climbed to her face. Apparently, the camera hadn't managed to catch my hesitance or fear.

I had to admit though—I looked pretty badass. The rain fell in chaotic drops and the gusting wind carried my soaked hair around my broad shoulders. My fists were clenched by my sides, my eyes narrowed, and my mouth pressed firmly together. Multiple gasps and murmurs came from the crowd, questioning what they'd all just witnessed.

I actually . . . looked like a hero. Not some dumb, clueless teenager who'd only recently been recruited. No, a real hero who knew what she was doing—a superhero. I couldn't help feeling a sense of pride. The way the crowd had spoken, how powerful I'd look, the sudden revelation of my powers—it was kinda hard not to feel the least bit satisfied. I mean, considering that this had been my first time fighting a Mutant and all, I think I'd done pretty good.

"The victim—Mr. Buckley—was rushed to the Drymon Medical Clinic immediately after the self-titled Blue Jay exited the scene." She continued. "And despite his injuries, he remains there in a stable condition."

I let out a quiet breath of relief. I hadn't stayed back to learn of that man's fate last night. I'd felt guilt that his life hadn't occurred to me until I'd arrived home but knowing that he was doing fine made me feel better.

"Wow," I heard Olga breathe. Tearing my gaze from the screen, I looked over my shoulder; she looked positively thrilled with everything she'd just witnessed. Her hands were grasping tightly the arm of Bob's chair as she grinned at the screen. "Blue Jay looks positively magnificent on camera! Did you see that shield thingy? I wonder if she's human, or perhaps some type of extra-terrestrial species, or a . . ."

As Olga continued to babble onto anyone listening, my gaze fell to the folded hands in my lap. Last night had been a complete success . . . I'd defeated the monster, saved the damsel and avoided the authorities—all on my first night.

A smile tugged at my lips. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

"Hey, what're ya doin' on the floor?" I jumped upon hearing Bob's thunderous voice aim at me. "C'mon, missy, you have school to go to!" Looking up and meeting his scowl, I realised that, at some point, I'd sunk to my knees in shock without even realising it.

A hand suddenly hung in front of my face.

I blinked and looked up at the arm it belonged to, eventually reaching Olga's gentle smile. I didn't know why she was looking at me like that—as if she knew what I was going through. Like, even though she didn't know what it was, she wanted to offer support.

For a moment I was tempted to accept her hand. To take the offer she'd extended towards me. But, before my hand touched hers, I remembered that, after living in this house for sixteen years, I didn't need anyone's help. I'd gotten through most of my life taking care of myself and I wasn't about to change that now.

Climbing to my feet, I bumped my shoulder into Olga's offered hand. I ignored her hurt look and brushed the imaginary dust from my uniform. "I'll make my own lunch," I mumbled to no one in particular.

Not sparing another glance, I made my way back to the kitchen. It was as if a gigantic weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The air seemed a little lighter and the pressure on my chest had lessened. That report, I realised, changed my opinion on my becoming a Guardian.

Witnessing the fight from another perspective, I saw how capable I was last night. Seeing how powerful I looked, how much I resembled a superhero, I felt more capable becoming Blue Jay.

Beginner or not, Nel had sensed something in me that made me worthy. And, so far, it was only me she could sense it from me. I could only rely on my own strength to save people.

So I would.

---

"Helga, did you hear the news?!"

A hand suddenly slammed inches from my face and I jumped back, clutching my heart. "Jesus, Pheebs!" I gasped, horrified, and spun around. "I've told you a million times to stop doing tha—"

I blinked at her slightly disgruntled appearance. She was leaning over her knees, chest heaving, and her shallow breaths were raspy. Small drops beaded her forehead and I rose a brow as one dripped down her forehead and curled around her jaw.

"Did you just run a marathon?"

Eyes shining, she suddenly grinned and stood back to her full height. Which wasn't much.

"No, I just wanted to get here early to talk about, oh—not much, except possibly that little incident involving a real life superhero battling a seven foot monster."

I stared at her, feeling something crash within me, and could only settle for a small, "Huh."

"I mean, isn't it so exciting?" she continued, then whipped out a rolled up magazine from who knows where. Her eyes glistened, the smile broadening, and she opened it to an article that resembled Olga's. "She completely defies all scientific explanation. It's both so frustrating and fascinating, an anomaly wrapped up in a mystery! Certainly, a time to be alive in!"

The excitement she displayed should've made me happy, but it only buried deep in my heart like teeth. A groan rolled from my throat and I shut my locker, shutting my eyes in frustration. "You too?"

It was like I couldn't escape her name.

Don't get me wrong, normally I didn't have a problem hearing people gush about me. Sure, it hadn't happened before, but in theory, I wasn't against people say such nice things about me. But when it was Blue Jay they spoke of so highly, it made the weight in my chest double. It was a constant reminder of my new duties. Their voices of praise were placing me on a pedestal, and the higher it rose, the harder the fall would be. Hearing it from strangers was bad enough, but coming from my best and only friend in the world? Too much. Disappointing people I didn't recognise was one thing but disappointing her would be like a knife to the heart.

"Me too?" I heard Phoebe say quietly.

Eyes opening, I pressed my cold fingers to my forehead, twisting my lips into what I hoped was a smile.

"Yeah, cause, it's just that, well—" I struggled to find the words to explain myself without letting anything slip. The realisation that I would have to tip toe around how I felt, instead of venting to her my new burdens, was something I didn't like. It was like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed on my lungs so tight that not a smidge of air could get in.

"I feel like—okay, so one night, this chick shows up and saves a guy. And, yes, it's totally impressive—I'm sure that only someone of massive intellect and strength could do what she did, but . . . I just feel like everyone's expectations are already so high, especially after only one night. What if . . . what if she can't fulfil those expectations? What if she's not nearly as good as people think she is . . . what if it was only a one time only thing?"

The words ached in my throat and I clamped my lips shut, glancing sideways at her. It didn't surprise me that Phoebe's face was scrunched up with thought, her own lips pursed, as she contemplated her answer.

A few frozen seconds passed before she clucked her tongue, shoving the rolled up magazine into her bag, and faced me.

"Well, no one really knows who she is, Helga. She could be anyone. I mean, just walking down the halls I heard people calling her some type of Russian spy." A small smile lit up her face and she softly chuckled while I wrinkled my nose. There's another speculation to add to the list. "I suspect that might have come from the popularity of that superhero in the Avenger movies. I'm not quite sure of her name, but she's Gerald's favourite." There was a softness welling up in her eyes, but she shook her head and the light was gone. "But anyway, the point is that whoever this girl is—she saved us last night. I'm not quite sure what it was that she fought, but it was obvious that it wouldn't come down from a regular weapon. We could've tried, but at the most, it might've slowed it down."

She paused, eyes misting over, and she slowly looked up at me.

"I'm not sure what it was that she fought, but I'm grateful that she was there. I get the feeling that it wasn't the only one, and we're going to have to prepare ourselves. As for Blue Jay herself, I think that . . . she represents some type of protection. She's strong, capable, and cloaked in mysterious. She's become the embodiment of a safety that we ourselves can't provide."

The breath that moved through my body was ghostly and all I could do was stare at my best friend. The weight had numbed, the pressure building up around me shattered, falling into tiny pieces that dissolved when they met the ground.

"You—" my mind was blank. "You truly believe that?"

Phoebe rose her eyebrow, slightly surprised by how eagerly I was hanging onto her words. I suppose it would be something that she would never understand. I didn't just value her opinion because she was my best friend but because she was the smartest person I knew.

Phoebe was the type of person to take apart a puzzle just to examine how its parts worked before she put it together again. She loved analysing situations, hearing all sides of an argument, then forming her own opinion. If I knew her, Phoebe didn't just read that article in her pocket, she also watched as many reports or interviews with the civilians before reaching that conclusion. And if that was the conclusion she had come to, maybe she was right, maybe I was overthinking it all.

"Yes?" it came out as a question and she laughed somewhat sheepishly. "I can't explain it, but there's just something about her that makes me feel . . . secure. Like there's already a sense of familiarity."

My brain shot into overdrive and for a moment, all I could hear were sirens. She felt as if—fuck, did some part of Phoebe recognise Blue Jay as me?

No, of course not. She said she felt a sense of familiarity. That didn't mean she had already drawn a line of similarity between Blue Jay and me. It would be a big leap of logic to take and, if I knew Phoebe, she wasn't one for taking leaps of logic. Not unless she could detail every step it took for her to get there. She looked at evidence and facts, and there wasn't anything that connected me to Blue Jay.

But . . . what if there was?

The thought was like a bolt to my spine. Because I had nothing to say to that. Sure, there wasn't anything connecting me to Blue Jay now, but what about later when the fights got harder? I was lucky last night, but what if she called me up, wanting to make up our Sundae Monday, and I couldn't come because another Mutant was terrorising everyone. What if that happened so much, she began putting the pieces together?

There was a thudding in my chest that echoed in my ears, and I turned my attention back to Phoebe.

"You sound like a fangirl, Pheebs," I teased, cracking a shaky smile.

She tried to look irritated but couldn't fight the smile pulling up her face.

"Hey!" she playfully whacked me in the ribs. It of course didn't hurt, but I pretended like it did regardless.

"Ah, how you wound me, fiend!" Rubbing my side, I scrunched up my face in exaggerated pain. "Doth thou not realiseith how strongith thou areith?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"You're such a dork, H," she muttered with a small smile.

I grinned and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "Guess that makes me your dork, geek."

We shared a look, trying to hold back our laughter, but both failed when our eyes locked. Our shoulders knocked together as we burst our laughing, ignoring the stares we received. It had been so long since Pheebs and I had been together long enough to talk, and I'd forgotten how much I'd missed this.

"Are you seriously serious, Rhonda?!"

Phoebe and I both quietened when another voice rang from the opposite side of the hallway. I rolled my eyes when I found myself staring in the cheerleader's corner again. Criminy, how did we always hear their conversations? Either we were too close, or they were way too loud.

Currently, only two of them were actually present, and the voice had come from Nathalie Nguyen, head of the squad. She was a beautiful girl with golden brown skin and long, dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She had a beauty mark beneath her right eye and long lashes that made every girl look at her with envy.

Nathalie was pressed against a locker, facing Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, who was digging through her own locker for whatever books she needed.

"Yes," Rhonda sighed and dramatically pulled out a Spanish textbook. Nathalie puffed out her cheeks, looking genuinely put off with Rhonda's stance. "I'm seriously serious, Nat. I just don't like that mockingjay girl or whoever she is."

I paused, raising a brow. Were they talking about what I think they're talking about? I turned to Phoebe for confirmation, and she simply shrugged her head and shook her head, eyes wide, communicating her own confusion.

"It's Blue Jay," Nathalie corrected, tightening her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. "And why the hell not?"

"Well, why should I?" Rhonda shrugged and opened her textbook. She truly gave off the vibes that she didn't care for this conversation as she quickly skimmed one of the chapters. "So, she killed that freakzoid thing last night, but did you see how? She threw a knife—big whoop. Everyone's acting like she cured cancer. The police didn't even get there until she had killed it, and their bullets are pretty harmful, who's to say they couldn't have done that? Not only that, but they definitely wouldn't have left that guy there without so much of a look his way. Did you see how quickly she left? Not a glance at anyone. At least the police stayed to make sure he was okay. She's just running around in a really tacky leotard and taking their jobs."

She snapped her book shut and faced a very taken aback Nathalie.

"And anyway, who even cares about this girl?" Rhonda gave an exasperated shrug. "Like hello, does no one else care about that ten foot monster? Everyone's focusing on this girl and barely asking questions about whatever that was. Honestly, that's where all those questions should be about—not her, but that icky . . . thing."

Whoa.

I guess the little princess could use that brain of hers. I was shocked, honestly. I thought she paid people to do her thinking for her.

A knowing smirk pulled at my lips but disappeared when I realised that, as much as I disliked her, Rhonda had a point—ugh, that thought sickened me. But I hadn't shown concern for anyone other than myself. I hadn't even stayed back to check on anyone else. I'd been certain that no one had gotten mixed up in the fight, but it was also dark and raining—someone could've gotten critically injured without my knowing.

And she was right—everyone cared so much about Blue Jay but barely anyone was asking about the monster. The general public, anyway. The news stations were asking questions, but most of everyone I'd come into contact was so focused on Blue Jay. They had no idea what was coming, no idea of the storm that was brewing and ready to hit us.

Though, I realised, I guess I didn't either.

Nel had explained to me what this all meant, patiently answered my questions and even warned me, but I hadn't fully wrapped my head around it. Right now, the future was a movie scene in my head, one that I kept pressing fast forward on, so I only caught terrifying glimpses.

I realised that not only was everyone in the dark about what was coming, but so was I.

Biting my lip, I looked down at Phoebe.

Her eyes were narrowed and stuck on the two cheerleaders. She had her lips pressed so tightly together that the colour was fading, and her pale hands were wrapped around her bag straps. I recognised that look—she wanted to defend Blue Jay. She wanted to prove that Blue Jay wasn't stealing the cops' jobs. She wanted to tell Rhonda what she had told me, backed it up with the facts she had dug up last night.

But I knew Phoebe and she was painfully shy. She may have grown since elementary—could now approach her friends with confidence or tease those she was close with without feeling awful about it after—but to strangers, she was just as shy.

Sweet as a butterfly, Phoebe still hid behind her hair and could barely answer her teachers even when she knew the answer. Debating with one of the Queens of Hillwood high over something ridiculous like a one time superhero wasn't her forte.

I placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, looking up at me like a kicked puppy. I forced a gentle smile, hoping to somehow lighten her burden, but the smile she gave back didn't reach her eyes.

If only Phoebe knew that the superhero she felt so oddly protective of was right here, standing beside her. That not only was Blue Jay her best friend, but she was warmed that she felt so strongly about her. That her words carried a certain weight to them that she would never know.

The school bell went off and we looked up with quiet sighs.

"Algebra," I told her, somewhat apologetically.

"Biology," she shrugged and looked away, frowning slightly.

My chest tightened and I stepped closer, squeezing her shoulder.

"Lunch today?" I asked and grinned when she looked back. The chances were low, but I really wanted her to make it today. Being with her made me forget about this superhero business. I didn't feel like a Guardian with the fate of the world on my shoulders. I felt like a teenager whose biggest concern was overdue homework or her feelings going unrequited. I didn't feel any of that pressure from the outside world, instead I was encased in a warmth that made it easier to smile through it all.

"Sorry," she apologised, tilting her head with a sheepish smile. "It's calculus today. I should be able to sometime this week though."

Her words flashed like silver and I sucked in a quiet breath, pushing out a terse smile.

"Yeah, right, of course," I jerked my shoulders into a shrug. "So, I'm guessing we're not making up for our last Sundae Monday?"

It was stupid to ask. I already had a busy afternoon, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to escape these shadows Nel had thrown onto me and reach for Phoebe's light.

"Maybe next week, Helga," she suggested, shaking her head, but I knew that we wouldn't be doing no such thing.

Quietly, I sighed. Another week skipped. I couldn't remember the last time we'd actually gone for ice cream. Phoebe's schedule was just so tight and busy, it prevented her from doing anything with me nowadays.

Well, now there was even less of a chance of any of that happening. Blue Jay would more or less be the death of that.

---

It was during Algebra that the exhaustion crept up on me.

Mrs. Brown's lecture was, as usual, agonisingly long, and given my distaste for her and this subject, I could hardly be blamed for slightly nodding off. It wasn't a conscious decision or anything, everything was just moving so slowly and the next thing I had known, my pencil had fallen from my hand and my head dropped to the desk. It didn't count as sleeping, though. It was my body resting, but not sleeping. Nope, not at all.

Not that Mrs. Brown cared; the moment she noticed me, she yelped then sent me out of class. Yeah, you see, Mrs. Brown had never been my biggest fan, especially since I'd always hated her classes, so she must've been brewing with satisfaction as she watched me leave.

And I was so tired, I could barely find it in myself to feel humiliated from the encounter. I mean, yes, everyone's eyes had been on me and some had even fought to keep their chuckles to themselves but getting out of there was a blessing in disguise. Because it meant that I would be standing out in the hallway, waiting for Mrs. Brown to come out and lecture me. But I was aware that she more than likely wouldn't do that, so I was free to slump on the floor and nod off again. Although, I guess that wasn't necessarily the best thing for me, considering that any time my eyes shut, that Mutant's menacing grin flashed stark in my mind.

On the bright side, it made me jerk awake in time for the bell, which meant I was the first to reach Gym today. Don't get me wrong, I still hated Gym, but being the first in the locker rooms meant I didn't have to deal with Rhonda and her cronies.

"Hello, Helga."

I jumped, jerking my eyes from my clumsily tied shoes up to the person who dared to socialise with me. I almost groaned when my vision settled on the unfortunately familiar face of Lila Sawyer, who was watching me with a small smile.

I really didn't have the patience for Miss Perfect today.

Said perfect specimen stepped forward, blue eyes twinkling, and tucked her arms behind her back like she was Velma Dinkley.

"How are you feeling?" she continued, despite me not saying anything, and tilted her head slightly. "Unscathed and fine, I hope?"

Unscathed and fine—criminy, who said that?

"Um," I rose my brow cautiously. "Yes?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but I quickly looked away, turning my attention to the basketball game currently taking place on the courts. I hoped—if there was a god—that she would take the hint. Maybe she would realise, if I didn't look at her, that I had no interest in continuing this conversation and leave me alone.

The haziness swirled in my mind like a thick fog and I blinked rapidly to make out the happenings on the court. As usual, it was mostly occupied by the boys while the majority of the girls were on the sidelines, chattering amongst themselves. Ms. Ainsley was in a much better mood today, so she had no problem with letting us stand this one out.

Thank you, Reed, for not pissing off your girlfriend today.

Ms. Ainsley herself was clutching her clipboard in her white hands, festering from the sidelines, and barking out orders to both teams so they were aware how badly they were doing.

"Johanssen, what was that?! I've seen six–year–old girls with better aim then that!"

. . . Hey, I said she was in a better mood, not a good one.

My pulse was racing in my ears the moment I spotted a familiar blonde boy, zipping up and down the court. The breath in my chest halted as I watched him move with the grace of a cheetah, hair rippling around his face and glistening with sweat.

Biting my lip, I held back a sigh, resisting the urge to swoon. I don't understand how someone could be so beautiful, so perfect. He even made our P.E. uniform look attractive.

"It is just that you were acting quite bizarre on the bus today," Lila continued, oblivious to my disinterest. My insides curdled and I glowered at her. She blinked her big eyes, in a way that reminded me of a looney tunes cartoon, and her forehead creased. "You were blushing ever so much then left so suddenly. I was ever so worried that perhaps we may have made you uncomfortable and not to mention that atrocious occurrence in Algebra today . . ."

Oh, boy.

A headache was beginning to form, and I genuinely didn't know if it was because I was still tired or because Lila was . . . being Lila. I shoved myself from the wall and turned away from her. "No, I'm fine," I said dismissively and began to walk away.

I wasn't one to care much if my actions were perceived as rude, but today, I truly did not care. I didn't want to have this conversation—or any conversation, for that matter—with the girl of Arnold's dreams. And for very hopeful moment, I thought that maybe, perhaps, I had actually managed to ditch her. But then I heard a bouncing noise, the sound of footsteps thumping against the wooden boards, and knew that nope—she was following me.

Shoving my fists into my pockets, I swung around with the blankest expression I could muster. One that was etched with irritation. Cause that's what I was—irritated.

Lila jumped back with surprise, hands held in defence, but didn't show any signs of backing down. I arched a brow, slightly impressed by how determined she apparently was. Annoying as Lila was, it was a little admirable. Still, as I'd stated before, I had no interest in being buddy–buddy with this girl.

"Lila, what do you want?"

There. That should tell her, plain as day, that I didn't want to talk with her.

Lila's eyebrows knitted together.

"To see if you are alright, Helga," she answered, in a voice slightly calmer than before, and placed her hands onto her hips. "I am not quite sure if you were there last night, but it is alright to admit what has you ever so shaken. It was quite frightening, after all. Well, I imagine, I wasn't there. But the videos were admittedly a bit shocking."

. . . Huh?

I blinked owlishly at her. "What?"

Something sparked in her blue eyes.

"Well," she straightened up with a proud smirk on her lips. And I realised, with horror, that by asking, I'd just provoked this conversation to go on even longer. "You've been acting ever so oddly today and I know that you're awfully shy and like to keep to yourself, but you spoke up on the bus—about Blue Jay. You were behaving uncanny when her name was mentioned so I figured that whatever it is that you're going through must have something to do with her. Gerald didn't mention you being there last night but perhaps he just—"

Blah, blah, blah, blah—criminy, could this girl on. Wasn't it obvious that I didn't want to talk to her? I didn't even like her. Lila was particularly smart but come one—a deaf, blink and stupid man could tell you I didn't exactly think very highly of little miss perfect.

Then, a sharp whistling suddenly rang loud in my ears. Lila's voice became lost beneath the other voices that drowned hers out frantically.

"—look out—!"

"—Lila, move—!"

"—get out of the way—!"

I moved in front of Lila, shoving my palm against her shoulder, and pushed her out of the way. She slightly squeaked, her hair flying into her face, and I stretched out my arm in front of me.

Thwack!

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut when something cracked into my hand. There were multiple gasps from all around us that was then followed by a dramatic beat of silence.

My palm was stinging, like someone had set fire beneath the skin, and my fingers attempted to wrap themselves around the object now in my hands. The object was round, I realised, and much bigger than my hand.

Slowly opening my eyes, I realised that it had been the basketball the teams had been playing with.

I glanced back to the courts, where the game had quite obviously stopped. Eyes were pointed in my direction, not just from the players, but the people standing around the courts. It was almost comical how in sync they appeared, gawking at me like I'd pulled a rainbow from my nostrils. I honestly could've collapsed laughing at how astonished Gerald, of all people, appeared. But as it turns out, I wasn't in a very laughing mood.

I checked over my shoulder at Lila, who also stared at me, slack jawed. Her hair fell around her like curtains, some strands hanging over her eyes, which were round with shock.

"Would you buckos please watch how you're freakin' playing?!" I snapped and swung back around to glare at each of the players. "You could've hurt someone, idiots!"

Irritation curdled in my abdomen when they showed no signs of hearing me. Instead, their gazes had shifted from me to my hand and, at this point, appeared truly confounded. Appalled, really.

Frowning, I looked to my hand—

What the . . .

—and felt my jaw drop.

Sometime, while I'd been yelling at those blockheads, my hand had, on its own accord, flipped the ball and balanced it on one finger, spinning it on the tip. I blinked, flabbergasted. When had I learnt to do that? Only the most skilled players could do that. So, how was I? I wasn't even left–handed.

My eyes then locked with Arnold's. His jaw had fallen as he watched me, flabbergasted, with a look that was akin to everyone else's. His eyes were wide, jaw hanging, and he swept his sweaty bangs back and out of his face. Beside him, Gerald and Sid looked as if I'd pulled a zebra from my pocket. I could imagine their minds desperately trying to connect the dots and causing a malfunctioning short circuit.

And then, it became uncomfortably quiet. The silence sunk into my pores like a mist, clogging me up until it became hard to breathe. I couldn't tell if they were more shocked that I apparently had skills in a sport I hadn't played in years, or that it had been Lila Sawyer I'd saved. I mean, it wasn't exactly like my rivalry with her was a well-kept secret or anything.

Either way, enough was enough.

Taking the ball back into my palm, I launched it over my shoulder and towards the court. "Watch where you're throwing it next time!" I barked and then turned around to Lila. She blinked, like she had just woken up. "You good?"

Her mouth opened and formed a failed reply, but nothing came out. She settled for closing her mouth and jerking her head up and down. Nodding, I turned and began to walk away—

When everyone's sharp gasps caught my attention. Looking over my shoulder, I was prepared to scoff and roll my eyes at whatever miniscule thing they were reacting to, when my eyes settled on the basketball. It was currently dancing along the ring to the net, spinning in circles against the edge. I drew in a shocked breath, spinning around, and felt my heart leap into my throat as I watched the ball move. It was hanging on the edge for what felt like hours before it dipped through the ring and plummeted through the air.

The breath was snatched from my throat when the ball bounced against the wooden floor, and its slaps filled the room. No one said anything, and all our eyes were glued to the ball as it thumped. No one knew what to say—I sure as hell didn't. I was still questioning how the fuck I even had managed any of that. Sure, when I'd been young, I was much bigger on sports, but that wasn't now. And I most certainly had never been that good, much less without trying.

Had that been my reflexes or . . . Blue Jay's?

It was when Arnold's glimmering eyes slowly turned back in my direction that a rush of drive jolted through my body. My sneakers squeaked as I spun on the balls of my feet and stomped towards the doors. My heart was frantically racing, so loudly it felt like everyone could hear it, and I gulped. Now was a marvellous time for a bathroom break and honestly, I could care less about getting a pass right now.

My palms shoved open the twin doors and I practically dove into the hallways. The air seemed less heavy out here, like I'd just stepped out of a fire, and I desperately sucked it in. My heart was still pounding, my fingers vibrating, and I really needed to put some space between that class and I.

"Helga—hey, Helga!"

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

I gritted my teeth with exasperation. I'd just managed to start walking down the hallway when Lila had suddenly called out for me. Maybe if I didn't look, she would think I hadn't heard her and just give up.

Yeah, that was a good idea.

Keeping my eyes down, I stalked down the hallway. I'd managed to take three steps when—

"Hey, Helga! Wait up!"

Jiminy cricket, was this girl stupid?

Exasperated, I let out an exasperated breath as her frantic footsteps grew louder and stopped in my tracks. Because clearly, there wasn't a point in ignoring her. It seemed that when it came to Lila, that wouldn't help me in the slightest. She was either too stupid or, for whatever reason, persistent to talk to me.

Could this day get any worse?

"What?" I snapped, not turning around. I didn't need to too know she was standing a few inches behind—

"How'd you do that?!" she demanded, suddenly jumping in front of me with a lunatic grin. I sprung back with surprise, feeling my heart leap in my chest. "I never knew you had such impressive skills!"

I blinked a few times, pressing a hand to my chest, and struggled to get air back into my lungs.

Lila continued to beam at me, so bright that it was hard not to imagine stars twinkling around her face. Her hair was slightly ruffled from her quick movements and she shoved it behind her ears, taking another step closer.

"I–I don't," I stuttered, feeling my cheeks heat up, and stepped backwards. "I haven't played basketball in years."

It wasn't a lie by the way, not in the slightest. I hadn't played in years. It just so happened that the reason behind what I'd displayed five minutes ago wasn't dumb luck, but my superhero reflexes bleeding into my everyday life.

Totally normal.

"Really?" Lila's face lit up like a Christmas tree and she tucked her fists beneath her chin. "Well, that was ever so impressive, Helga!"

It was slightly uncomfortable, being so close to her. Again, Lila and I didn't have the best history in terms of relationships and I preferred to keep her at an arm's length, at the very least. Now, with her so swept up in her giddiness, she stood less then a few inches from me.

"Erm," I shuffled awkwardly. "Thanks."

I don't know if it was my answer, how I said it, or something going off in her own brain, but suddenly, Lila's grin had shifted into a look of wide–eyed curiosity.

"But Helga, if you don't mind me asking—" she placed her index finger to the corner of her mouth in thought. "—where exactly did you learn such skill?"

"I would also like to know that, Pataki."

Startled, we both swung around in the direction of that voice. And I honestly could've smacked myself when I realised who it belonged to. Because of course—of fucking course it would be Ms. Ainsley.

She was slumped against the Gym doors, like she was imitating a leather–wearing bad boy from a 50s movie. She had her feet pressed against the door and arms crossed tight over her chest. The corner of her mouth was turned up and her plucked eyebrow raised like she'd just made an excellent point.

"So," she said in a particularly low voice. "What is it, Pataki? Where'd you learn moves like that?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh, here and there," I mirrored her actions and folded my arms, pretending I didn't care. Not that I did, of course. Sure, my heart was racing, but it wasn't because I cared or anything, I just wanted to get the pair of them off my back.

Ainsley nodded. "Impressive nonetheless, Pataki," she admitted with a slightly thoughtful expression. I didn't like it, not one bit. That look always promised misery, whether it was cruel pranks on some of the girls or particularly difficult courses for the whole class. It never guaranteed happiness for us.

"Um," I glanced over my shoulder, quickly weighing my options. I could make a run for it, but Ainsley was a P.E. teacher with long legs. If anyone could catch me while I was making an escape, it was her. I turned back to them, but mostly focused my attention on Lila. Ainsley was giving me an uncomfortably long look while Lila stared at her with alarm. Couldn't blame her really. "Anyway, I'm just gonna go to the lock—"

"Y'know, we have a free spot on the basketball team," Ainsley interrupted and pushed herself up from the wall, moving forward. Lila's and my response were immediate, stepping back wide to keep as much distance from her as we could.

I gulped. "Um, actually—"

"I wasn't aware," Lila interjected with curiosity, "that there was even an open spot on the team, Ms. Ainsley."

Ainsley shrugged.

"There isn't," she answered, then gestured to me with a nod. "However, I'm willing to change that for someone like Pataki."

My jaw dropped.

"You mean—" I stuttered, unable to comprehend her implications, "that you would—"

"—kick someone off the team?' Lila finished, appearing just as baffled, "just to make room for Helga?"

Ainsley remained oblivious to our trepidation and rose her chin with pride. "Yes," she grinned. "Aren't I so generous?"

Lila managed a shaky smile. "Well, I—"

"Of course, it would have to be the boy's team," she quickly interjected, cupping her chin and looking up with thought. Lila stopped, eyes widening slightly, and I sighed. "The girl's team is pathetic, a total waste of my time. I would've kicked them all off and shut the thing down, but the school is forcing me to keep them—something about it being unconstitutional to allow only one of the sexes to play. Bull, I say! Unconstitutional is forcing me to waste my days trying to train a bunch of sissies who wouldn't know a basketball if it hit them in the face! Trust me, I've tried."

Lila blinked, mouth dropping with surprise. For once, she couldn't offer a rebuttal. Not because she agreed with it, but because she seemed so taken back. Hell, I was slightly shocked. Not that that was how she felt, but from how quickly Ainsley's moods had managed to change. She looked ready to punch a hole through the wall.

"Um, I—super, Ms. A," I lied, rubbing the back of my neck. "Erm, can I go—"

"Excellent," Ainsley interrupted with a wide smile, holding up her fingers to tick off her next few points. "Practises are Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays after school, sometimes we meet on weekends and—"

"Um," I stared at the short–haired woman with shock. "Hold on, I never said I was actually playing."

Ainsley stopped, turning her head back in my direction so slow it was like I'd hit slow motion on a TV remote. She blinked a few time, like I'd just sprouted wings from my heels and began flying, and her jaw dropped. Hell, even Lila seemed taken back with my decision.

"What?!"

My heart jerked in my chest, but I didn't allow for anything to show on my face.

"Sorry, coach," I shrugged, eyes shifting to the corner above her head. "I just don't have time to be on a team."

Again, not a lie. Becoming Blue Jay hardly left me time for anything anymore. Sleep was hard enough, let alone extracurriculars that were managed by one of the most insane human beings I knew.

But the moment that sentence had left my lips, the air shifted—it had become tense. Quiet. Disturbingly quiet.

Stomach squirming, I shifted my weight and glanced back to Ainsley. Her mouth had frozen wide open, so wide that a bird could fly in and set up shop. She had practically come to a complete and utter stop, one that was scaring the life out of me. It was rare when Ainsley chose to be silent, and normally it didn't lead to many good things.

It didn't help that I might've been the first person to decline her offer to join a team. You see, Ainsley hardly gave out invitations for students to actually join her teams. Typically, they showed up to try outs and if they impressed her, she let them in, as was required. But it was rare for her to spot someone and decide she wanted them to be under her wing, and that someone being a girl was even more rare.

That being said, when she actually decided to ask someone to join the team, she viewed it like she was Jesus asking someone to sit at the table with his disciples. It was a holy event, her extending her olive branch to someone in need, and she expected the uttermost gratitude for it.

"WHAT?!"

Lila and I both jumped at Ainsley's sudden scream. She had snapped back into action, eyes blinking rapidly with disbelief, and threaded her fingers through her short strands.

I gulped, suddenly aware that Ainsley was very tall. Like, seriously tall. And it wasn't like I was lacking in the height department, but next to Ainsley, I was at a clear disadvantage. So, I made the courageous decision to slip behind Lila, ducking my head behind her shoulder.

The redhead shot me a quick exasperated look.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked, smiling from around Lila's long hair. "But like I said, I'm pretty busy no—"

"With what?!" Ainsley demanded, gigantic fists digging into her hips.

And quite frankly, I didn't think I could give her an answer. One that would satisfy her, anyway. I mean, for starters, there's no way she would ever believe my reason for not joining (besides the fact that I didn't want to. And also, I don't think there was an answer in the world that would satisfy her that didn't involve my limbs falling off.

Lila folded her arms, watching me over her shoulder. Her eyes were slow, careful, like she was scrutinizing every thought running through my head. It didn't comfort me in the least. I already had Ainsley up in my goat, I didn't need her as well. Although, I guess she had started way before Ainsley, but still.

"Umm," I rubbed my neck. "Just y'know—stuff."

Lila rose her eyebrows. "Stuff?"

"Stuff?" Ainsley repeated.

"Stuff," I confirmed with a nod.

Her eyes darkened, like I'd just challenged her, and she lowered her chin, so her glare cut through her choppy bangs.

"What type," she said through her teeth, "of stuff?"

The way she looked, it reminded me of the moments before werewolves transformed in teen movies. The way her chin dipped to her collarbones and how sharp her face had become, like I'd just ate her first born.

I cleared my throat, shuffling my feet, and tried gathering any courage remaining from last night. Which wasn't a lot.

"You know . . . stuff," I shrugged to show her I wasn't, in fact, scared of her. It was a complete and total lie, but hey, they didn't need to know. "Anyways, sorry coach, but I'm way too busy for—"

"Can't you quit your stuff?" she urged desperately, glare vanishing for an attempted puppy dog plea. "Please?"

She stepped forward and, once again, Lila and I immediately rushed backwards. Unaffected, Ainsley clasped her hands and twinkled her eyes, poking out her bottom lip.

It was weird.

"I–I'm sorry," I stuttered. "But I just don't have the time."

Lila and I fell silent as Ainsley tried to comprehend that someone had actually declined her offer. Her mouth opened and shut but no words were coming out. Her eyes glazed and dropped to the floor, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides.

I rose a brow. Was she having a stroke?

Then suddenly, Ainsley dropped to her knees with a thundering noise and clasped her hands together in a prayer formation.

"Please," her voice turned into a hoarse pleading. "I–I'm begging you!"

Lila and I jumped in surprise as her words bounced from the walls.

"You don't understand, Pataki!" Ainsley continued, oblivious to our growing fear. "You're the first real talent I've come across in this fat lump of a school! Have you seen that low down, sorry excuse for a team? Bunch of wimps and crybabies. Why, they're nothing more then ninnies, I tell you! Wouldn't know a basketball if it hit 'em in the face—trust me, I tried! They're the most talentless, non–moving gumps I've seen! Why'd ya think we haven't won any games as of late?

"B–But with you on the team—" her eyes had a demented, sadistic twinkle as the corners of her mouth stretched so high, they were a few centimetres shy of her earlobes. "—we . . . we might actually win—yes! HA–HA! We could win! Yes! You, Pataki, may have the talent, the means, to win me my first game since I was doomed with these pathetic piles of putrid pus! MWAHAHAHAHA!"

Lila and I stood there in fear, shaking like two leaves, as our P.E. teacher transformed into the world's scariest supervillain. She had risen from her knees back to her feet, but seemed even more hulking then before, and her shoulders hunched forward like she was the fucking Hulk. A part of my brain registered that, at some point during her monologue, Lila and I had wrapped our arms around one another and now stood cheek–to–cheek. But my focus was mostly directed onto Ainsley. What had happened to her?

BRIING!

"Hey—OI! PATAKI, GET BACK HERE!"

Never, in my life, did I ever think I'd be so eager to get to Home Ec.

---

I was never going to P.E. again.

Not in this lifetime. I don't care how I managed to do it—whether it involved coming up with weird, over–the–top illnesses or injuries or hell, actually getting injured—I was not—repeat: not—stepping one foot into that Gym again. And that was a promise. I was totally willing to move schools if I had to. Hell, that might actually be easier. Sure, I would have to bid Phoebe adieu, but at least I wouldn't have to constantly look over my shoulder for psychopathic teachers.

You see, after I'd booted it out of P.E., the she–devil—I didn't even feel safe thinking her name anymore—had made it her mission to win me over to her stupid basketball team. It was lunchtime now and she was spending this period of time searching the school grounds for me. I'd spotted her just before I'd stepped into the cafeteria—she stood out right away to me. Her blue tracksuit was such a pop of colour amongst the shades of crimson that I noticed her right away and quickly moved out of the doorway before she could turn around. Students around me glanced over weirdly, but I ignored them, pasting my back against the door.

Ainsley had been scouring around my table, the one I had silently reserved as my own. People had looked over at her, trying to figure out what she was doing, but quickly turned away when she sharply looked in their direction.

Sighing, I had softly smacked the back of my head against the wall. Obviously, my table was no longer an option.

Which led me here—the school roof. Alone. I mean, obviously. I'd been reluctant at first, considering how much of a walk it was from the cafeteria, but hey, the promise of no Ainsley was worth it. The door had squeaked as I'd heaved it open, and then the sunlight had basically left me blind for a good few moments.

It was just so bright out here.

The sunlight came in white waves, flowing from the day and splashing across the roof. The space up here was wide and flat, and a of inter–linked fence enclosed the entire area. There was a small, rectangular pit that rose to my knee where a beautiful garden was growing. Bright green leaves cascaded over the wooden edges, framing the cluster of colourful flowers. There were daffodils, smatters of fuchsia and saffron hued primroses. But the one that rung familiar in my mind were the centaurea; they were such an electric burst of blue, a chilling neon that reminded me of sapphires. And beside the garden, was a wooden bench, in the perfect position to collect as much sunlight as possible.

It was so different out here; it was the same size as the cafeteria, but without the people and table, there was so much room to move around. I could stretch out my arms, spin around in circles, and no one would even know. But it was so quiet; the mindless chatter was replaced with a soft, howling wind, and with that silence, I noticed the hollow emptiness. Clutching the inter–linked chains, I bit down on my straw, the flavoured milk coming up stronger. It shouldn't have mattered—it didn't matter—and I pushed that detail to the back of my mind.

Heat swam around my face as I watched the world below me. It was a two–storey length, but I could see the school fields perfectly. It was mostly occupied by the guys that played football; they weren't dressed in their equipment, instead having taken off their blazers and jackets and loosening their ties. I slightly cringed, watching one with blonde hair skid across the ground. Not because he may have been injured, but because that was definitely going to leave stains. And if there was one thing teachers at this school did not tolerate, it was stained shirts. Which it was definitely.

But then my eyes fell on the hunched form of Ainsley, marching up to them. They paused their game, some even sneaking away, as she barked at them, demanding where her shining star was. They each looked amongst themselves, some even shrugging as the name didn't ring any bells, then shook their head. I hadn't realised I'd actually been holding my breath until Ainsley let out a frustrated sigh and stormed off. That's when I noticed I still had a mouthful of my milk and quickly gulped it down.

I let out a relieved breath, the weight leaving my shoulders, and turned to the skies. The clouds were white and fat, lazily swimming against the echoing sky, and the air was crisp. It slid past me, flowing and draping my hair over my shoulders and into my face. I moved it from my teeth but slowly, changed the direction of my hand and traced my fingers along my scalp. But I quickly let loose a sharp hiss when I reached the sensitive spot—where I'd been injured last night.

Stupid Mutant had left behind a huge lump on my head. But Nel had assured me it would heal itself quickly; if not today, then certainly tomorrow.

I sighed.

Nel had actually explained a lot last night.

---

"Criminy!"

My jaw had dropped when my eyes landed on the face staring back in the mirror. It had already been beautiful, but without the mask—boy oh boy, did she give it a whole other meaning.

The first thing I noticed were her eyes; they were large, hard, and reminded me of ice. They were the type of blue that generated a feeling like I was being pulled into a frozen lake. It was like all the myriad shades of blue swirled together to form a whirlpool of caution. The area around her eyes seemed slightly darker, almost shadowed, like she had tried wiping away eyeliner, leaving behind dark stains.

She had smooth skin, sprinkled with small freckles like confetti, and her eyebrows curved in swooping arcs over her eyes. The girl seemed so young, there wasn't a wrinkle to her face, but there was a maturity to her; something about how she was built. I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly—the height, the eyes, the overall guarded look—but she just seemed so soldier–like, no nonsense.

Her blonde hair had become unruly, rolling down her back in sticky clumps, both from the sweat and blood. It was such a contrast to golden strands, a stark red, and I crinkled my nose at the slight odour. The air in here was crisp—since I'd left the window open—but despite that, her skin glistened with sweat. An especially bright pink patch shone on her right cheek and a tiny cut resided on her plump lips. But somehow, despite the bruises running up and down her arms, the girl remained an ethereal beauty.

And the longer I examined her, the harder it became to accept that the girl in the mirror was me.

Technically.

"Shit, I look hot," I murmured and then, turning around, my eyes widened when they zeroed in on my backside. "Jiminy cricket—" my jaw dropped for what felt like the hundredth time. "I have an ass!"

Because, quite frankly, as Helga, my figure had as many curves as an arrow.

There was a forced, awkward coughing and when I glanced over my shoulder, it was to the uncomfortable black cat.

Nel was perched on my bed, a paw to her mouth (I'd given up, at this point, questioning her human–like behaviour), and her face had morphed with impatience.

"If you are quite done focusing on such trivial, unbecoming things," she said with a hard stare, "I would very much like to continue explaining your new role as a Guardian."

Trust Nel to be a stick in the mud.

Rolling my eyes, I turned around to face her.

"Gee, Nel, sorry and all," I said, tone dry, and threw up my hands in exasperation. "But c'mon, did you see me out there? I totally rocked—I was awesome! I mean, this morning my biggest concern was catchin' that dang bus. Now I'm a freaking hero—a superhero! Move over Superman, there's a new man of the hour! Oh my God, this is so awesome! Why didn't this happen years ago? Imagine all the things I can do with these—"

"Are you done yet?" Nel's ears pulled back and she stood to her feet, looking disgust. "I cannot believe how selfish you are acting right now."

"Hey," I frowned, crossing my arms. "I thought I surprised you. What the heck crawled up your butt?"

Nel narrowed her eyes. "You are treating your duties carelessly and refusing to see past your selfish gains," she hissed. "A man almost died not an hour ago, along with innocent civilians, and you have the nerve to treat your new role as if it were a joke? You surprise me, Helga."

She said it so lowly, like I really had disappointed her, and I dug my fingers into my biceps. I hated to admit it, but Nel had a point. Ever since I had gotten back, I'd been on this rush of energy, like molten gold, and hadn't even stopped to ask what would become of that man. He hadn't moved when he had hit the ground, and I remembered seeing flecks of blood . . . that man hadn't looked much older than me.

"Alright, alright, alright—I got it. I'm sorry, okay?" I waved around a dismissive hand and looked away, so hopefully Nel couldn't detect how I felt. The guilt pumped through me like allergies, swelling in my throat and tasting like copper. But Nel's gaze was heated, like two lightbulbs pressing into my skin, so I whirled around and wrapped my fingers around my hips. "Anyways, how do I, uh, change back?"

"Oh," I caught the surprise that flickered over Nel's face in her reflection, as she seemingly realised it was Blue Jay she was talking to, not Helga. "Right, of course—well, it's simple. Place you hand against your chest, close your eyes and conjure an image of yourself." I obeyed with a nod, shutting my eyes and placing my hand on the golden bird on my chest. It was warm beneath my fingers, radiating with something that flowed through my skin and travelled up my arm like electricity. "Think of what you had been wearing, how you had tied your hair, the colour of—"

"Alright, alright, I got it—geeze. . ." I waved my hand around carelessly at her. "No need to chat my ear off, Nel."

Call me psychic, but she was totally glaring at me right now.

Shaking my head, I squeezed my eyes even tighter and thought of what I'd been wearing today. I remembered that familiar hoodie I always wore beneath my blazer, that ugly, knee–length skirt, my swinging ponytails, the stain on my shirt—

I gasped.

The electrical heat that danced under my skin was intoxicating. It pushed through my veins, reminding me of a summer breeze, and my heart thundered in my ears. There was a sizzling energy, it was so warm and strong, yet it felt like a radiant mist, pulling me in all directions.

But then it was gone.

The absolute power, the warmth that made my heart sing—it was all gone, and I was left feeling cold and delicate. Waves of nausea hit me and the ground beneath my feet began to shift. The buzzing in my head was replaced with a throbbing sensation that made everything spin.

I clutched my head with a small groan. Why did I feel so tired?

Nel coughed sheepishly, ducking her head when I looked at her.

"Erm, well, yes, I forgot to mention that," she quickly admitted. "At first, when transforming back, you may feel a little strained—"

"A little?" I balked at her, completely stumped as to why she wouldn't mention that until now.

"Yes, a little," and then she had the nerve to actually roll her eyes at me. "However, given some time, I'd imagine you'd get quite used to it."

This cat, I decided, was too British for her own good.

And then her words registered.

"Wait—whoa, whoa, whoa—hold up! Time out!" I held up my hands in a T formation. "Who said this was gonna be a regular thing?"

Nel's eyes widened. "Helga, you cannot be serious—"

"Oh yes, I am sister. Quite, in fact," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest and raising my nose with a huff. "I mean, for cripes safe, I'm only sixteen! And you expect me to go around, fighting monsters just because some talking cat tells me to? No thank you."

"But if you don't," Nel insisted through her teeth, "then who will?"

"You said there were others—three!" I insisted. "Why don't you find them and make them fight?! Hell, you can even take this bizarro thing back and—"

"I don't know who they are!"

Her voice hit me like a force and I stopped, my mind blank. Nel's stare was hard, fixed, and her voice had become shaky. Nel so far hadn't shown a wide range of emotions outside of frustration, disappointment and seriousness, but now, she seemed to be swimming in them.

The surprise I felt must've been evidence because Nel, shutting her eyes, took three large breaths to calm herself. The hardness in her face softened and when she opened her eyes, they were different—worn, weary, like she had been drained of her energy.

I dropped my gaze.

"Listen Helga, if I were able to, I would. I'd choose someone else to fight these beasts—someone older . . . w–with more experience. But I . . . I can't. I do not possess the power to just pick Guardians, I can only find them. I cannot create. Because believe me, if I could, I would someone else. It pains me to put such a burden onto someone so young, but I'm not in the position to pass up your potential. You've seen those things, more are coming, I'm simply out of time to find someone else. Otherwise I would. I would take your place, if I could, but I cannot."

She said that with her eyes low, an emotion swirling behind them, one that I couldn't recognise. But it made the weight in my chest sink down to my stomach, which felt like a whirlpool, dragging everything including the thumping in my heart with it.

"But I can assure you this," she quickly said, blinking away the misty emotions and looking up at me firmly, "that I will do everything within my power to properly equip you. To train you to fight with power and skill against these things. I can promise you that."

She said it with such confidence, such fortitude, that I was left speechless. Her eyes were unyielding, never flicking away from mine, and burned like embers.

The thoughts swimming through my head were so conflicting and loud that I had to force myself to look away. All the thoughts racing through me felt like explosions, spinning around at an unknown rate. I could feel the fear, the confusion, hell, even the interest, all at once.

On one hand, I didn't want this. Any of it. Nel spoke so gravely about all of this, and though I didn't quite understand the situation fully, I did understand that by accepting this role, people's lives would be in my hand. Which was nuts. I barely could get myself out of bed in the morning, now I had to protect an entire city of people from those . . . things? And speaking of those things, I'd barely even gotten out of tonight's fight. Now, I'd have to keep doing that, over and over again? Why? Why did it have to be me and not someone else? As Nel said, someone experienced, older and smarter. This felt like a giant mistake.

But . . . Nel was desperate.

According to her, there were more of these monsters. Ones that were lethal, powerful, possible even more than tonight's. The monster tonight had been so terrifying, spreading panic so easily . . . and this was just the beginning. I knew that. And if someone didn't fight . . .

I was the only one.

It terrified me, but it was true. Until Nel could find the other Guardians, I was the only one who could fight for people. That made it my sole responsibility . . . to protect everyone. I'd have to muster up every and any piece of strength I'd ever had.

I had to fight.

But that conclusion opened my mind up to images, unwanted visions that flashed like searing bolts. The absolute terror on that man's face, his unmoving body on the ground, the vicious look on that thing's face—

My scalp began to burn, as if to remind me of that blow I'd received. Curiously, I raised my hand to rub against the area but hissed when a flash of pain hit me. A lump was beginning to form, one that hurt to touch. My stomach began to curl, because the reality was, if I accepted this duty, then lumps were the least of my worries. I probably was going to come home way more injured then I had tonight.

It sent shivers racing down my spine and I had to wrap my arms tight over my chest. Nel's gaze was burning and I looked away, coming back to my reflection in the mirror. I was surprised by how much darker the bruises appeared against my skin now that I was Helga.

The one on my left cheekbone was particularly nasty, a purple welt scattered across my skin like a disease. And the cut on my lip was unavoidable now; Blue Jay's lips had already been plump, perfectly shape, but mine were naturally thinner. So, the area around the cut that swelled puffed out unnaturally compared to the overall thinness of the rest of my mouth. It was throbbing painfully and I could feel the blood rushing warm beneath my skin.

The results of tonight's fight were dark against my face. They were inescapable, a stark contrast to how Blue Jay had appeared. The injuries had been noticeable, but not like this; on her, they'd seemed lighter, almost artificial, like they were nothing more than special effects. It looked like I had come from a very violent fight, but on her, it had been almost a scuffle. Maybe that was why her face looked the way it was, why it had been built so stone-like. It was like it had been crafted exactly like that, while mine was still human, and therefore worse for wear against bruising like this.

"Please, Helga," Nel's voice was soft, and when I glanced back, it was to her determined gaze. "There isn't any time to waste. Many more Mutants will infiltrate this planet, if they haven't already and, without you, all hope is lost."

I couldn't ignore the desperation laced in her voice. Her eyes were like stars, pleading with mine to consider what I could be preventing. To at least consider what would happen if I turned all of this down.

I itched to tell her no, but the words were caught in my throat. What would happen if I rejected this? There were others like me, but how quickly could she locate them? I don't know how long it had taken her to find me, but she had done it the day that thing had shown up. Something similar could happen tomorrow, where it wasn't a guarantee that there would be someone to stop it.

The idea terrified me, but there didn't seem to be another option.

Besides, I wanted to ignore it, but there had been an . . . elation I'd felt when I was Blue Jay. It was hard to explain it, but becoming her, wearing her face, it felt like I'd stepped into the sun for the first time. It was like a surreal light had engulfed me, dancing and swirling in a chaotic, dazzling storm, and curling in the palm of my hands. It left my heart full, the tension that naturally seized my lungs vanishing, and I was left dizzy from the unprecedented rush of power that burnt like flames beneath my skin.

I glanced down to the pin, still stuck to my shirt and gleaming in the starlight.

Being Blue Jay felt like I'd reunited with a friend I'd always known. A ghostly figure that had lingered from the depths of my mind, a missing part of myself.

I wrapped my hands tight around my arms, sighing. There were muscles I hadn't realised that had tensed. Keeping my head down, I crossed the room, pressing my lips together, and Nel watched silently as I sat down in front of her.

Awkwardly, I cleared my throat. "Sooo, what exactly was that thing?"

I had said it softly, hoping that it came across as almost apologetic, and when I looked up, Nel appeared taken back. Her eyes widened for a moment, mouth dropping slightly, but when I rubbed the back of my neck, she shook it off with a reassuring smile. She gave me a small nod and though I didn't know her, I knew that it was her way of thanking me.

"That, Helga, was a Mutant."

"A Mutant?"

"Yes," her smile disappeared, expressing turning grim. "A genetic experiment created by the Priestess Acantha."

I furrowed my brow. "Ah–kan–tha?"

Her eyes softened, appearing slightly amused at my attempt at pronouncing the foreign name, as she nodded. "Yes—Acantha. A woman of absurdly great powers and also the leader of Mutants, like the one you fought tonight," she explained, smile once again vanishing. Her eyes seemed darker now, almost like they were carrying a new weight that aged her massively. "She and her army of Mutants travel from planet to planet, killing all life before moving onto the next."

A shiver ran up my spine.

Drawing my legs to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my shins and leaned in close. There was a nauseous curl in my stomach, but I was still interested in what she had to say.

"I regret to say this, but truthfully, there is little I actually know about Acantha. People who come into contact with her usually are not heard of again. However, I do know that the most recent planet she declared war on—Laakia—severely weakened her army and she was forced to flee. She was temporarily able to open up a portal that allowed herself and roughly only 10% of her army to escape, which led her here. However, the rest of her army remained on Laakia."

She ended there, glancing down to hide the way her eyes had clouded over with something. I didn't know what was going through her mind, but I knew she wasn't about to share it with me, and I quickly blurted out, "What is she hoping to get from Earth?"

Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Energy—lots of energy," Nel answered, looking up at me. I froze, not because of what she had said, but from how different she appeared. The clouded emotions were gone, replaced with a sharpness, a passion that oozed like white hot flames. "The Priestess Acantha is a powerful woman—legend has it, she possesses a strength that could rival even the greatest of Guardians. However, even she has her limits; she cannot hope to open a portal of that magnitude for as long as it'll take to get everyone from there over here."

"How did she originally, then?" I couldn't help asking.

Nel paused for a moment, seeming a little peeved, but answered anyway. "She was able to because there wasn't as many bodies to get through the first time. She had been injured, someone had gotten her rather badly, and had she not been able to get out so quickly, the results would've been fatal. I assume she had enough strength to get herself some place far away—in this case, Earth—but not enough to hold the portal open for very long."

"Oh," was all I could say.

"She plans on collecting enough energy from humans to open up another one," Nel continued. "And if she does, she'll regain control over the rest of her army. And if that happens . . . likely, she'll destroy everything on Earth."

Yep, I was right. Didn't want to know the answer.

Swallowing loudly, I purposely glanced over that small 'destroy everything on Earth' factor. "Um, you say 'energy' . . . what exactly is that?"

Nel blinked, looking surprised that I focused on that part.

"To put it bluntly, your energy is your life force," she answered anyway. "It is what drives you in your regular life. It is a fundamental force that nourishes all life in existence. It is what allows you to think, to feel, to move, react—everything. Without it, we simply cannot exist. Everything gives off a considerable amount in their lifetime. Especially humans; you, in particular, give off a sizeable portion, which is why you're all, for the moment, so valuable to Acantha."

"So, that yellow cloud I saw on the man's face, then . . ." I said, the little dots beginning to connect in my mind. ". . . that mist that the Mutant was collecting, was that that man's energy?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Because of the amount you give off regularly, it shouldn't take more then a couple thousand of you to provide Acantha with the power to open up another portal. And if she opens up another one . . ." she trailed off, but I didn't need her to finish to understand the meaning.

"She sounds like a bitch," I decided after a pause, pursing my lips.

The comment had been more to myself, but Nel cracked a small smile. She looked up, her gaze latching onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like the hanging tension maybe had been smothered. But as quickly as it had came, the smile disappeared and she proceeded to tell me about the upcoming apocalypse.

"There are three types of Mutants that I've counted. There are the general Mutants, Wraiths and Leeches. General Mutants are the most common; they come in all shapes and sizes and each have their own strengths. However, they all share a common weakness—you maybe have noticed the writing on that knife I gave you," she looked at me expectedly and I nodded, prompting her to continue. "Well, that is an ancient incantation that enchants the blade, which acts like an acid to them. If the blade pierces their flesh, it will eradicate them, as you saw." Nel's face then shifted, from a cool shade of authoritative to a blazing intensity. "Do not lose that blade, Helga—whatever you do. It is highly valuable and, so far, your only way of defeating them."

I blinked, trying to clear my mind. "Umm, what's the second type of Mutants, then?"

"Wraiths," she answered, grim with the thought, which didn't encourage anything warm or fuzzy in me either. "They are unlike regular Mutants in that they can disguise themselves perfectly reminiscent of humans. Unlike Mutants, Wraiths do not outright attack their victims, they feed off their happiness. Wraiths inhabit popular spots and collect energy through their victim's happiness. Shapeshifting aside, they tend to be much more powerful and lethal compared to other Mutants, so be careful, Helga."

I gulped, nodding.

"And the third type—" she drew in a shaky breath. "—are Leeches. And I pray that you'll never have to come into contact with them."

"Why?"

"Because, Helga, unlike regular Mutants, they will not initiate their attacks. They are like Wraiths in that they are imperceptible, however their similarities end there. Unless they allow you to, you cannot see Leeches. They keep themselves concealed within barriers completely invisible to the naked eye. Once they choose a victim, they can read your deepest fears and call those victims to their barriers and into their nests. There, they'll feed off your insecurities, anxieties and fears. And for ordinary humans, once they enter a Leech's barrier, they cannot escape. Few people have made it out alive and they've all been Guardians. The rest have died from having experienced such terrors."

She stopped there, giving me the time to digest everything, but the silence became so deafening that I could feel my eardrums beating wildly. The air seemed colder, coursing up and down my arms like ice, and my hands tingled from it. And yet my blood was burning, pushing up and hissing against my skin. What had I gotten myself into? What had Nel gotten me into?

I didn't want it—any of it.

I wanted to curl up beneath my covers and sleep. Only I didn't want to wake, not this time. I didn't want to face this new reality—I was still a kid, how could I defend everybody from . . . whatever this was?

"Why me?" I whispered, in a way that reminded me of cracked glass. It was so quiet that for a moment, I thought Nel hadn't heard me.

She hesitated, staring at me with a pained expression before sighing.

"That I do not know," she uttered, looking towards the windows that overlooked the city's lights. The night was dark, swelling with a blackness that belonged to midnight, and it reflected in her jaded eyes. "I can only assume there is something about you—something strong. Otherwise the pin wouldn't have chosen you."

My stomach had sunken so low and I had to press my lips tight together to resist throwing up. Instead, I followed her gaze out the window. The night cackled with static as bright pink glistened from the skyscrapers, shinning through the glass and washing across my carpet.

Finally, I found my voice.

"There isn't another way?" And when Nel turned back to me, incredulously, I added, "There isn't an option that doesn't involve fighting?"

The stress slowly melted from her face when she realised she had nothing to worry about and slowly, she took a steady breath, shaking her head.

"No—all we can do is fight." Something in her voice made me turn back to her. Her eyes were bright with their misery. "If we don't fight, how can we win?"

---

"Uh, okay—didn't know we had this here before."

I hadn't known what to expect when Nel and I had gotten off that town bus. She had been curled up in my bag, since cats weren't technically allowed on public transport, but had made hissing sounds when our stop had approached. Sounds that were so blatantly unsubtle, that passengers had looked in my direction before moving their kids away. Yeah, thanks Nel, I always wanted strangers to think there was something wrong with me.

Anyway, the stop in question had been across from a gas station. It hadn't seemed unordinary until I actually had gotten off the bus, and the transport had already disappeared around the corner. Because, as Nel put it, we were off to find a space for me to train. A gas station hadn't exactly been what I had in mind. Honestly, I was expecting something like the wrestling ring or something. When I voiced these concerns to her, she merely rolled her eyes and started walking down the road. Pretty rude if you asked me, but hey, she's the expert. So, I'd followed her, and after getting to a certain spot down the road, we had travelled into the thicket of the forest that skirted the highway.

Thankfully, it wasn't one of those forests that had cliffs, or deep ledges, but it was still pretty thick. The air had hung heavy from the moisture that soaked the moss–covered trees. And everything was just so green—violently so. I was pretty much sick of the colour by the time we got here.

Here being . . . a telephone booth.

Yeah, I hadn't been expecting that either.

It was so oddly placed; nestled against one of the largest trees I'd seen, the green roots twisted around the booth from the side. And it was so brightly coloured, a fire truck shade of red up against green bark that curled up into the canopy of the forest.

I looked down at the cat sitting next to my ankles. "It's a phone booth, Nel."

"Yes, Helga," Nel's gaze didn't leave the small structure in front of us. "It is a phone booth. Although I prefer to call it a telephone booth."

"Why is it a phone booth?"

"Telephone," she stressed, scowling at me. "And because it is how we get to the training facility. Honestly, Helga, were you not listening?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, we mustn't be on the same page," I crouched to her level, balancing on my tippy toes, and she glanced at me questioningly. "How are we supposed to get to the training facility if instead you've taken me to a PHONE BOOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS INSTEAD?!"

Nel grimaced at my sudden volume change, drawing her ears back sharply to her head. Her face scrunched up into a glare, which she turned against mine. "Yes, it is a phone booth and in the middle of the woods. Therefore, it will not draw the attention of regular people."

"That doesn't make sense!" I exclaimed, flinging my hands into the air. "There's nothing more likely to draw my attention then a phone booth in the middle of the woods!"

"Yes, but it is not accessible to them," she stressed through gritted teeth and motioned towards the door. "Now for goodness sake, just trust me and go inside."

Gritting my teeth, I threw my fists to my sides and rose back to my feet. "Stupid cat—"

I took a step forward, not seeing the thick root in front of my feet, and next thing I knew, my face had smacked into the ground. A gush of pain throbbed in my nose and I lifted my face to spit out the dirt from my mouth. Sliding my hands over the ground, I pushed myself up into a sitting position to rub the left over dirt in my eyes.

Ah, nuts—now my uniform was all gross–looking. I couldn't get away with not washing it now, I guess I had to add laundry to my list of—

"Are you quite done, Helga?" Opening my eyes, I saw Nel sitting against the still–closed door, her tail snapping in the air behind her. "Come on, Helga, we haven't got all day."

Screwing my mouth to the side, I growled but obeyed, pushing myself to my feet and moving towards the booth. I kept my eyes on the ground, looking for any roots with antagonistic intent, and when I looked back up, it was to Nel's disapproving glare.

"You certainly took your time, Helga," she stated, motioning towards the door. I rolled my eyes but yanked open the door, and we both piled in. It was nothing special, a cramped space with a public phone and even a phonebook. Huh, I hadn't seen one of those in years now.

Turning back to Nel, I opened my mouth to ask what other inane nonsense she wanted us to do. But she cut me off before I could even get one word out.

"Now, if you're done dilly–dallying, we can finally begin our tasks. Oh, and close your mouth Helga, you are not a fish. And shut the door, please."

You know, between my being larger than her and having superpowers, Nel was really beginning to push her luck. Gritting my teeth, I shut the door behind me and turned to look at her challengingly.

"Now what?"

"Now take out your pin," she instructed. Digging into my blazer, I pulled out my bird–shaped pin. The metal still felt icy, unused since last night. "Hold it in front of the scanner."

I stared at her. "Okay, what scanner, Einstein? We're in a booth."

She looked up with impatience, as if she were talking to an idiot. "Up there, Helga. Look directly in front of you."

Alright, this cat was officially on drugs. It was bad enough that Nel could talk, but now she was seeing things? Criminy, maybe this was a prank show—

Hey, when'd that scanner get there?

It had escaped my notice before but there was a tiny black box poking above the phone on the wall. The box was small and no bigger than my thumb.

"Now," Nel continued, "hold your phone in front of it."

I gave her a hesitant look, which she met with a small, somewhat encouraging nod. So, gripping the pin, I rose the bird's eye to the box. A blue beam of light burst out from the box and illuminated both our faces. I jumped back, but Nel remained still, watching it knowingly. The light traced up and down the pin then vanished as the box melded into the door.

I blinked, my hand falling to my side. "What the hell was that?"

Ignoring my question, Nel sunk to the ground with a determined glare. "Hold onto something, it has a bit of a kick."

"Erm, whaddya—"

The floor beneath our feet gave a low groan and weird noises came from the walls, before sharp sounds like branches snapping hit us. And the floor felt like it gave out as, like a rocket, Nel and I shot off.

Whoosh!

The force sent me tumbling to my feet and the back of my head smacked against the wall, earning a sympathetic grimace from Nel. Groaning, I rubbed the bruised spot—why was it always the head?

A blinding red light flashed, and wind whipped my hair into my face. Blinking, I realised that the glass windows no longer showed the forest but now, a blackness. Looking closely, I noticed there was a rushing sensation, almost like we were . . . sinking. My eyebrows shot up, was this an elevator?

Then it was all gone—the light, the movements, the rush of air. We were left in a silence that rung in my ears, staring out the window that only showed the same clouded darkness. Pressed against the wall, I was silent.

There was another loud groaning sound, and the glass door in front of us sunk into the ground. The square of bare darkness behind slowly crept open, letting in a bright flood of light. It was blinding and I groaned, covering my eyes before I even knew what was behind it.

I heard Nel stand to her paws and walk out of the booth. "Finally," she mumbled to herself, then addressed me. "We're here, Helga."

Yeah, I figured.

My eyelids fluttered open and I strained to ignore the harsh glare of light—

And gasped.

We were in a completely different space now. Like, completely different. Outside the door was an extremely spacious and open room. It was brightly lit, each of the walls matched the floor in an extremely pristine shade of white. A rectangular window almost covered a good third of the left wall and next to it was a plain door.

Slowly, I climbed to my feet and stumbled out of the booth.

Whoosh!

Startled, I whirled around, and realised that the door had completely vanished. Jaw dropped, I now faced a blank wall, that was practically glowing from its paleness.

"Um," I turned to Nel, who sat a couple of feet from me. "How are we supposed to get back now?"

"Really Helga, do you think I would allow us to get trapped down here?" Nel shook her head. "As long as you have that pin, you may leave. It's your form of identification."

I looked down into my pocket, pulling it open to peek at the pin. It was still there, nestled between the scrunched up balls of tissues, with its eyes almost sparkling at me. Swallowing, I examined the high walls with wonder; it seemed impossible that all this was connected to an ordinary looking phonebooth. Well, as ordinary as you could get for in the middle of the woods. The ceiling was so high, the walls stretched further then the length of my three–storey house. I wonder how far underground we even were . . .

"How'd you even get this place here?" I asked, turning back to the cat. It was a conclusion that didn't really make sense in my mind, but how else would this stuff be down here. It wasn't like regular people had built all of this.

"That doesn't matter Helga, what does is training you into a formidable soldier," she said, looking at me analytically. "Someone the people can firmly put their trust in. I will admit, you surprised me last night with how quickly you got the hang of your powers, but do not consider it as anything but luck. Compared to other Mutants, that one was relatively powerless. If you want to make it out of the fights to come, you're going to have to let me train you and for that to happen, you need to have complete trust in me, is that clear?"

The words slid from her tongue and her violet eyes were like lasers. But, unlike the other times, they weren't full of anger, but of determination—hope.

Silently, I nodded.

"Good," she nodded back in response. "Now, transform."

Rolling my eyes, I held up my hands. "Right, boss."

She glowered at the name, and I grasped the pin tightly between my fingers. I stuck the spike through my shirt and an exhilarating feeling travelled through my veins, and I cracked a smile.

"My Inner Guardian: Exo—"

"You don't have to yell that anymore."

I paused, my hand awkwardly in the air, and looked at the nonchalant cat. She stared back at me, deadpanned, and I cleared my throat, impatient at having been interrupted. "What?"

"That phrase," she said. "You don't have to say it anymore."

"Why not?"

She actually looked disappointed with my question. "Really, Helga, don't you think that perhaps suddenly shouting 'My Inner Guardian: Exorior' would look the slightest bit suspicious? It would bring an unnecessary amount of attention to yourself. Say it in your mind instead."

I huffed, rolling my eyes, but silently agreed with her. Technically, it would be foolish to do that, but still, she could have told me that before.

Clearing my throat, I punched my hand into the air again and thought over those words just as clearly as I'd said them.

My Inner Guar—

"Oh, and also," Nel chose to interrupt again, and looked up in thought. Irritation flashed red hot inside me, and I clenched my teeth together. "Now that you've officially named yourself, the phrase should become 'Blue Jay: Exorior . . ."

She looked ready to continue but trailed off when she noticed the look on my face. She paused, blinked, then slightly frowned with confusion. "Is there something the matter?"

I crossed my arms. "May I please transform now?"

Offense sparked in her eyes and she huffed but relented a single nod.

Drama Queen.

Rolling my eyes, I punched the air above my head

Blur Jay: Exorior!

A blast of warm, golden magic shot out from the pin and wrapped around me like a warm autumn breeze. A sweet scent rolled over me, my hair was tousled around my shoulders, and I shut my eyes with a small smile. The magic waltzed across my skin like glitter and lifted my body from the floor. I could feel my clothes shortening, my limbs growing, and my hair curling around my shoulders. The susurration swept over me, curling around my fingers like a ghostly hand, and I squeezed mine into fists.

And then, it was over, and I was left standing in the room as Blue Jay. The overwhelming power flowed through me, like I'd just woken from a thousand year sleep, or I'd been injected with something. My mind was racing so fast that it felt numb and my blood thrived beneath my skin like it had wings.

I looked down, my hair spilling over my shoulders, and marvelled at my defined muscles. Criminy, it was certainly going to take some getting use to. But hey, who was I to complain?

A door slammed shut behind me and I spun around. Temporarily, I was taken back by how fast I moved, and blinked a couple of times. Right, I'd forgotten—Blue Jay's reflexes were much quicker than Helga's.

I pulled my attention back to the task at hand, and quickly realised that Nel had moved to the door next to the window. Slightly frowning, I silently crossed the room towards the window, my footsteps echoing loudly. It looked dark, almost black, on the other side of the window. I could only make out Nel's head, poking up from the bottom, and the large chair she was sat on. There was a keyboard, it was glowing, and her attention was so focused on running her paws along the keys, she hadn't even noticed my presence.

Raising my brow, I gave a swift knock to the glass.

She paused, looking up for a second and scanning my attire, before returning back to her typing.

"Hey, Nel!" I frowned. "What the hell? What am I supposed to do now?"

Nel threw me a displeasing look, choosing to not answer my question, and reached over the keyboard to press a random button. Mechanical noises came from every corner in the room, and I screeched, spinning back around and looking around. I don't know what I'd been expecting, but I was met with the same blank walls, and was prepared to turn back around to yell at Nel when a beam of light zapped into existence from the other side of the room.

The light stuttered and shimmied, forming into the shape of a human. It was tall, with broad shoulders, strong limbs, and no facial features.

I was genuinely amazed and let out a low whistle. "Wow, impressive hologram, Nel."

It was like I'd walked straight into a Star Wars movie.

The figure threw its fists to its sides, pushing back its shoulders, then took off into a powerful charge. I lifted a brow, admiring its graceful movements. The way it moved, it bolted across the room like an Olympic champion. Each one of its might strides was worth at least two of mine.

It actually looked kinda intimidating. I crossed my arms, my heart twisting in my chest. Boy, would I hate to be on the receiving end of that thing.

. . . Wait.

The breath halted in my throat. Was it charging at me?

Alarm bells went off in my head when the figure crossed more than half the room and wasn't showing any signs of stopping or even slowing down. Its featureless face was trained in my direction and never once looked away.

. . . Oh, shit, it actually was charging for me.

"Criminy, what's it doing?!" I screamed, throwing myself up against the window behind me. "Nel, make it stop!"

She didn't respond—the dirty coward.

"Nel!" My shoes slid across the floor as I tried pressing myself further into the window. My heart had frozen in my chest and I couldn't drag my gaze away from the charging hologram. "Whaddya doin'?! Stop it!"

"I'm not going to fight your battles, Helga," I jumped when Nel's voice suddenly boomed from every corner of the room. "You have to learn to fight for yourself. No more running and instead taking a stance and—"

My hoarse scream cut off her microphoned voice when the hologram suddenly appeared in front of me. My knees were buckling, and I had to raise my head back just to look up at its face. Jiminy cricket, how tall was this fucking thing? The figure drew its hand back over its extremely broad shoulder—seriously, those things looked like boulders—but before it could swing, I collapsed to my knees and covered my head with my hands. I didn't hear any glass breaking, but I could feel the vibrations when its fist clacked into the window.

Shit, fuck—this hologram was actually solid.

Clenching my teeth, I slowly looked back up and squeaked. The figure was standing over me, its fist still against the intact window, and its face had turned down to look at me. It didn't have facial features, but if it did, I could tell it'd be giving me an extremely nasty glare right now. The figure lifted its leg to deliver a kick, but I quickly scrambled between its legs and scurried away on my hands and knees.

Mentally, I was doing a little victory dance at my quick thinking but could feel a heated glare boring into my shoulders. My heart was throbbing in my chest, and I totally didn't want to, but I looked anyway. The hologram looked positively furious now, and again I squeaked. I didn't bother question how a faceless hologram could look angry and instead scrambled to my feet.

I stumbled slightly—stupid heels—and let out a massive howl before sprinting off with the hologram hot on my heels.

"Helga, stop running away!"

I did not stop running away.

"You try fighting it then, you coward!" I barked over my shoulder, more than aware that the hologram was getting way too close. I tried urging my legs to pick up speed, but as it turned out, that was difficult to do in heels.

"Shit!"

My ankle gave out and I suddenly found myself slamming face first into the—

Thump!

-ground.

Groaning, I rubbed my pounding forehead, which was roaring with pain, and cursed these stupid heels. Who the fuck designed this costume, Malibu Barbie?

The hairs on my neck shot up and I rolled over.

CRACK.

Heart in my throat, I slowly looked over my shoulder, and gulped. Hairline cracks had formed in the middle of the floor—right where I had been laying. The fissures extended like spiderwebs from beneath the hologram's large fist.

I glared at Nel. "You have this thing super strength?! What the fu—WHOA!"

Before I could finish, the hologram had leapt at me with another bunch. I rolled away, swinging around onto my feet, but staggered again. These fucking heels—why were they so stupidly high? I couldn't do anything in them. Biting my lip, I tried throwing my weight onto my heels, and held my hands up defensively. There was a moment as the hologram watched me—well, I assumed anyway—before it lunged again. Grunting, I twisted to the side, and its clenched fist flew past my face. It glanced my shoulder and my stomach curled, I could feel its power pulsating through its hands. This thing could easily land me straight in the hospital if it wanted.

"NEL—"

The hologram's fist jammed into my windpipe and cut off my cry. I fell onto my side, grasping at my throat and spluttering out watery coughs. I tried getting the air to flow back into my body and a blunt force to my nose sent me flying back onto my back. A throbbing encompassed my face and I blinked as spots shimmered across the ceiling. Since when did we have stars down here?

Something clasped my ankle and I was yanked, screaming, across the floor. The hologram dragged me into the air, dangling like I weighed nothing, then began spinning in circles. The walls and floors merged together into a continuous mass of white and my skittering stomach jumped into my throat. I don't know how many times it had spun around but when the pressure around my ankle had disappeared, I was flying across the room.

"Craaaaaaaaaaaa—"

BANG!

And face first, I was sent into the wall.

I'm pretty sure I could feel Nel face palming from across the room behind her little wall. Hell, I'm sure even the hologram felt embarrassed for me—I certainly was. Moaning, I landed in a pathetic pile on the ground, agony wracking through me in waves. I could feel something wet dripping down my nose and hesitantly reached a hand up to touch it. There was blood when I looked down at my fingers. Blinking, I pushed against the wall, my gaze glued onto the red on my hand, and suddenly became more aware of the pain racing through me.

My head moved slowly in the hologram's direction. It hadn't moved and continued to stand tall and powerful, with its legs firm and parted, as it waited for me to make the first move.

I scowled—that does it.

Grinding my jaw, I wiped away the droplets from my nose and reached into my boot for my knife. The blade was cold in my hand, and I quickly threw it in the hologram's direction. It hurtled for the golden figure, its silver movements reminding me of a sharp pair of butterfly wings. The hologram dodged it, which gave me the opening I needed.

Ignoring the shifting floor, I bolted across the ground. The hologram's attention was briefly caught on the knife, which had snapped into the wall behind it. Baring my teeth, I leapt into the air and sent my foot heel first into its side. The hologram stumbled back, and I landed on the balls of my feet. Tightening my fists, I launched into a defensive stance, letting the cool air sink into my lungs. The hologram mirrored my stance and held its fists in front of its face, its legs set out apart.

There was a moment as I looked where its eyes would be, then quick as a flash, I dashed forward. Twirling on the balls of my feet, I dug my foot into the side of its head. My hair hit my eyes and I growled, scrapping it back, and struck again, aiming for the other side of its head. But the hologram was quick and blocked my attack with its forearm. I aimed a kick for its stomach but sensing my motive, the hologram's hand flashed and wrapped around my foot.

I froze—shit.

"Don't—" I began in a low voice, "—you dare."

Oh, but it did.

Tightening its grip, it twisted my foot sideways. I screamed, finding myself being jerked to the side, and threw my hands around like they were windmills. Then, the hologram heaved my body like it was a bag of rice into the air, and for a moment, another blur of white overtook my vision. My stomach entangled with itself as I spun pathetically in the air before I crashed back into the ground, head knocking against the floor. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as everything spun so much, I wanted to puke, and held onto my stomach. Why was this so hard?

Maybe if I laid here long enough, I'd wake up in my bed to the sound of my alarm screeching at me to get up because holy shit, I only had ten minutes to get ready and catch the bus.

A whistling alerted me of an incoming fist.

My eyes shot open and I rolled over to my side. There was a loud thud! followed by a crack! from the collusion against the pristine floor. Crouched on the balls of my feet, hair spilled around me like clumpy curtains, and I turned back to the hologram.

It was glaring at me, body hunched over like a predator, and slowly, it rose to its feet. My eyes followed its movements, watching as this towering figure stood over me, seeming a lot larger than before. I gulped, feeling the fear sit cold in my chest, and felt the ground beneath tremble beneath its footsteps.

Somewhere along the way, I realised that I was shaking, hard enough that it was a struggle to move. It was like my joints had locked into place, or chains had wrapped around me. I couldn't even flinch as the hologram drew back its fist over its shoulder. My eyes snapped shut in preparation, waiting for the inevitable, but suddenly, my body acted on its own. My leg swept underneath the hologram's feet and sent it to the ground with a sickening crack.

Something flickered in my chest, and my throat began burning from the lack of air. My thoughts were racing, trying to figure out where that had even come from, but I quickly put that away in favour of getting the hell out of here.

Good plan.

I shakily climbed to my feet and attempted to run when something wrapped around my ankle. It was tight yet felt almost like nothing. It gave a rough tug that sent me face first into the tiles. The pain that coursed through me was like a jolt of electricity, and instinctive tears popped into my eyes. My nose pulsated hot and blood spurted outward, soaking my skin.

Gritting my teeth, I kicked against the hand around my ankle but there was another tug, and I was pulled closer toward the fallen hologram. And before I could blink, its large weight settled onto my stomach and my shoulders were pinned back by its knees.

The blood continued to pour, over my lips and into my teeth. It was sickly sweet, swirling to the back of my throat and making me choke. A hand seized my collar and yanked me up, so the hologram's face loomed over my own. I gasped, unintentionally drawing in more blood that made me hack even harder. I tried wiggling my arms underneath the hologram's legs, but the weight had left me completely restricted. The most I could do was stretch out my hand and—

Wait.

My eyes widened.

That was it!

The hologram reeled back its fist again, which appeared even larger than before, but I was no longer focused on it. Instead, I focused on moving my hand palm up to the roof and spread out my fingers. There was a tingling in my fingertips when—

Its fist suddenly lunged at me and I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut, and waiting for the pain.

Shing!

Only none came.

My eyes opened and I felt my jaw drop. The hologram's fist hung centimetres from my face, frozen in the air. I slowly traced my gaze from its fists up to its face. The entire figure had ceased movement, like someone had randomly hit a pause button, and now sat motionlessly like a statue on my stomach.

I rose a brow. Why had—

That's when I noticed the head of the hologram, or rather what was embedded in its head—my knife.

"Oh, fuck monkeys."

The hologram suddenly became fuzzy, blinking in and out of focus, before cutting out completely. The pressure on my chest disappeared and I sucked in a quiet and relieved breath. Something electrifying struck my spine and I found myself sitting up, hand stretched out, and catching my knife by the blade.

I stared at the weapon in my hand with wonder before I sighed and lay back against the ground on my back, exhausted. I could hear my heart pound against the tiles, throbbing in my ribs, and hammer in my ears like a migraine. My arms felt like they were on fire, even with the coolness of the tiles pressed against them, and I spread them out like they were wings. The knife tumbled from my fingers with a clatter and I was so exhausted, so shaky, that I couldn't be bothered to pick it up again.

I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the peace.

Beads of sweat rolled down my face and my lungs felt like they would burst. A familiar pulse in my nose brought to my attention the metallic taste still in my mouth. Opening my eyes, I reached up and lightly touched my nose. It was a feather touch but that didn't stop the pain from flaring. It seared from the nostrils all the way to the back of my head, curling and radiating like boiling water.

I grimaced, pulling back my hand, and looking at the thick coat of red on my fingers.

And like that, my exhaustion became anger.

"NEL!"

The ground lurched as I stumbled my way back to Nel's window. And that dumb cat actually had the nerve to look annoyed with me—annoyed. As if somehow, between my running for my life and being beaten to a pulp, I had managed to offend her.

Said offended cat sighed, pressing down on a circular button. "Yes, what is it, Helga?"

Of course, Nel would make it sound like it'd been me who had done something wrong.

Gritting my teeth, I jammed my fists into my hips. "You dragged me here, to this ugly, abandoned forest—" I began, stopping outside the window. "—where I fell over and honestly, I'm fairly certain I'm going to catch poison ivy from, had me ride an unstable elevator and, without any warning, forced me to fight some freaky Star Trek hologram, which beat the socks off me—and before you say I'm 'simply overreacting, Helga', take a good look at my nose. I didn't get this for no reason," I gestured angrily to the bloody mess on my face and watched Nel's gaze stray from my eyes to my nose, then back down to her keyboard. "While you have the nerve to sit there—safely —behind your bullet proof glass and lecture me on your little microphone. And then sound angry when I'm even slightly annoyed at this?"

Nel glanced up sharply, eyes slightly narrowed, but didn't open her mouth with a response. So, I continued and threw up my arms for extra emphasis as I began to pace up and down.

"I mean, for criminy's sake! You didn't even warn me before you sprung that bloody thing onto me! I could've been injured, y'know! Hell, I was injured! You say I need to trust you but you're making it really freakin' difficult if you don't give me a little heads up once in a while! I mean, geeze!"

An empty silence hung in the air. Nel didn't respond right away, instead she shifted her face to the side with an uncomfortable look in her eyes. A flurry of panic raced in my chest and for a moment, I worried that I'd said too much. This whole thing, after all, was larger than the both of us. It wasn't about me anymore, it was about protecting my home. But my nose gave another painful throb, as if to remind me of my original point, and I quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind.

I wiped away some of the gushing red, ignoring the flaring pain, and angrily stared at the black cat, waiting for her response. Eventually, she sighed, eyes flickering back to mine, and let the exhaustion hang over her.

"Yes. You're right."

I nodded.

"I do need you to trust me. As I've said, trusting me will allow me to train you properly to become a soldier." Her eyes hardened, the melancholy raging like a frothing sea behind that purple haze. I had to look away. "Acantha's army is one of great strength and will be extremely difficult to defeat. And for now, you, Helga, are the only Guardian and therefore the only one eligible to defeat that army. That makes it you versus thousands, perhaps millions. Yes, my methods will seem harsh, especially given how little you know about combat, but you must believe me when I saw that everything I teach you is for the best. Yes, perhaps I should've given you a warning as this is your first time and, for that, I apologise. But you cannot expect Acantha or her army to ever give you a warning either. You must always remain on your guard and ready to jump into the action—do you understand?"

At first, I didn't answer.

My gaze was stuck on the tips of my shoes, unable to meet Nel's. The air felt heavier, the weight suddenly burrowing thickly into my skin, and my tongue felt three sizes too big.

"Do you understand, Helga?"

I blinked, my eyesight suddenly blurry. This was all becoming so much to handle. I barely could even process the words coming from her mouth. But I forced myself to look up, raising my chin so high that her eyes were unavoidable. Her eyes had hardened over her speech but when they met mine, they softened. The empathy clouded her orbs, like she knew what she was asking of me, but there was nothing she could do.

Biting my lip, I nodded.

She nodded back and turned to her keyboard. She ran her paws along the keys and typed rapidly. A part of me wanted to know what it was she was doing, but I decided against asking. There was something else I felt needed to be said. I hesitated but with a sigh, forced myself to speak.

"Nel," my voice was quiet, but I didn't let my gaze wander. Nel looked up, eyes brimming with curiosity. "I'm . . . I'm sorry," I inhaled deeply. "F–For yelling at you, I mean. It's not fair, you're only trying to train me . . . none of this is your fault."

Her eyes widened in shock. I couldn't blame her. In the short time we'd known each other, I'm sure she had put together that I wasn't one to regularly give out apologies. But nonetheless, she managed a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you, Helga."

Her voice was come, but something about it felt deep. The emotions that resided in her tone . . . she wasn't just thanking me for that apology.

I couldn't understand what was going through her mind, but I didn't need to. I trusted Nel. The corners of my mouth twitched as I nodded in reply.

Turning back to the keyboard, Nel pressed a familiar red button.

Low groans that I recognised filled the room and I slowly turned around with a raised brow—

Wait, what?

I froze when my gaze landed on not one, but six glowing figures on the other end of the room, all glaring dangerously at me.

"NEL!"

---

"You know, you could've at least warned me before springing six more holograms on me, Nel."

Her tail wrapped tight around her body, Nel rolled her eyes at me. "You're really going over this again, Helga?"

The ice was cool and welcoming on the flaming flesh around my eye. "You're absolutely right, Nel," I scowled. "At this point, I'm just being selfish. Getting beaten by those six sci–fi freaks is completely my fault, isn't it?"

"If you," Nel began with exasperation, "had only been paying attention when that hologram had—"

"There were six of them, Nel!" The ice pack fell onto my lap as I threw my arms into the air. "Six!"

Nel opened her mouth to reply when a sharp shriek suddenly cut her off—one that hadn't come from either of us. High–pitched cries reverberated through our minds, shaking me to my core. Together, we exchanged dreaded looks—we knew what that sound meant.

And quite frankly, I was annoyed.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?!" I shouted, threading my hands through my hair. "Now, seriously?"

Nel didn't share my annoyance at this extremely poor timing and glared into the distance. Well, considering she wasn't doing any of the fighting, I couldn't say I was surprised.

"It's the enemy!" she said, standing on all fours. "Come quickly, Helga, it's time to put that training to good use."

I simply stared at her.

And when she didn't get response, she looked back at me, furrowing her eyebrows. "What?"

"You cannot be serious," I said, gaping. "I just spent the last few hours taking down six of your dumb holograms—and I have a black eye."

"You do not have a choice, Helga," Nel countered. "The enemy will not sit and wait for you. Given the chance, it will drain the energy of and kill hundreds of civilians. Do you really want that on your hands?" She watched me intensely, before looking at my eye. "Besides by the time we get there, your eye should have healed. Now hurry and transform!"

I sighed.

Looks like my day wasn't over.

---

The screams got louder as we ran deeper into the city. They were like shards of glass, shattering the silence and running deep in my forces. At first, I could identify them belonging to the Mutant; the level of terror it unleashed on me could only belong to a creature like that. But at some point, it became hard to distinguish that from the horrified screams of civilians that were being attacked. And those screams were soon accompanied with multiple crashes and deep cackles. Nel was quick to locate the distressing scene in the heart of the city.

"Thank God," she whispered to herself as she peered around a bricked wall. I could tell from how quickly she scanned the area that she was making a deduction of the Mutant. "It's only a Mutant. And not a particularly powerful one either—oh, Helga, do hurry up!"

Why that little—

I shot her a dirty look and half-limped my way to her, muttering unintelligently under my breath. You see earlier, because of these stupid heels, I'd taken a small detour and face-planted along the sidewalk—into someone's rose bush.

The thorns had scrapped across many inches of my flesh so now I looked like a massive train-wreck. If the training hadn't been enough to knock Blue Jay's beauty from me, two-inch thorns certainly was.

Even worse, I now stunk of roses.

God fucking damn—I don't even like roses.

I gave Nel a final ugly look as I gripped the edge of the brick wall. Grumbling, I peered around to assess the situation for myself . . . and felt something shrivel up inside when my eyes took in the sight before me. Pulling away, I slammed my back against the wall and kept my unfocused eyes pointed straight ahead.

"Still," Nel continued, unaffected with my minor breakdown. She peered around the corner back at the Mutant. "You shouldn't act too hasty with this one. It appears that its strength lies primarily in its arms."

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

Frowning, I glanced down at Nel. "I'm sorry," I said dryly, "but how is this one not powerful?"

She glanced at me briefly but returned to watching the Mutant. I let loose an irritated breath but mirrored her actions and looked around the corner towards the roads where the Mutant wreaked havoc.

I recognised the road—it was one of the main ones leading to the city's shopping market. It was a popular place and a good target for victims. As far as I could see tons of cars snaked down the road. Up ahead was an enormous crater that cut off the line of traffic. In the centre of the crater stood the reason for the commotion.

The Mutant was hideous, large and green. It had a muscular chest and long, stumpy legs. Large, black pupils surrounded by red pierced from its bald egg-shaped head. And its arms were vine-like and almost twice its size, with four long fingers on its hands.

Throwing back its head, the Mutant let out a howl as if it were screaming to the heavens it was ready for a fight. I covered my ears and gulped—I was going to have to fight that.

"How the hell," I glared down at the wincing cat by my feet, "am I supposed to defeat that?"

Nel's ears were pulled back in response to the Mutant's cries. "You're going to have to find its weakness," she answered weakly.

I could've slapped her.

"Yes," I snapped. "Thank you so much for stating the obvious!"

Our attention was drawn back to the street when the Mutant's arms shot out towards a couple sitting in a red car. The couple managed to scramble away but the car was flung high into the air and landed with a tremendous crash on its roof.

"Helga, get ready." Nel said with a nod. "You're needed."

I hesitated. "But, Nel—"

"Just go!"

The Mutant let out another terrifying growl as it's arms shot out like bullets for a quivering man frozen in terror. He was crawled into a ball next to a car and his skin looked an unnatural shade of ashen white. The poor guy didn't move and only stared as the clawed hand flew closer and closer to his face. The hand was a few feet from him when he let out a horrified and cracked scream.

"Hey, ass-butt!"

The Mutant frozen, attention askew from the terrified man. Looking around, the Mutant searched for where that powerful feminine voice came from.

Me.

Heart pounding, I stood proudly on top of a car, a safe distance away from the Mutant. My fists were planted on my hips, my chin raised as I mustered the most apathetic look on my face.

Damn, I bet I looked totally badass right now. Now would be a nice time for a reporter to snap a pic . . .

"Who're you?!" The Mutant demanded. I made eye contact with the frightened man, forgotten by the Mutant, and mouthed 'Go!' His realisation didn't catch up with him until I nudged my head in a random direction. With a nod of his own, he turned on his heel and sprinted out of danger. The Mutant either didn't notice or care about the escape of its previous victim as it continued to stare me down.

I cleared my throat and took a step forward. "I'm—"

But, as it turned out, lady luck was not on my side and (for perhaps the fourth time today) my ankle gave out. Screeching, I found myself sliding off the car and plummeting towards the ground.

Thump!

My cartilages cried out in pain and tears welled up in my eyes. Throbbing sensations assaulted my nose and I bit my lip to mask it. It wasn't the worst pain I'd felt today, but, with all the fighting I'd done already, it was certainly worse then what it should've been. My arms shook as I pushed myself up from the ground and sat on my knees. The world was spinning too rapidly so, with shaky fingers, I brushed away the tears from my eyes and sucked in a silent breath.

An awkward silence had taken place as I slowly climbed back to my feet. I could feel both the stares of Nel and the Mutant as they watched me stumble.

Flames danced along my cheeks; great, what a smooth impression you're making, Helga. Seriously, I can tell why you were chosen.

Shut up.

Planting my feet further apart, I planted my fists back onto my hips and faced the Mutant with confidence. The Mutant was still staring at me in confusion, no doubt questioning what it had just witnessed. I chose to ignore the humiliation fluttering in my stomach and focused on the fury that pumped through my veins.

You see, I had a personal bone to pick with this Mutant.

It had, after all, pushed back my time at home further into the day. Normally, I wasn't thrilled about being there but, after the past few hours of Nel's training, I've decided I much preferred it.

I took a step forward (and didn't trip this time—thank God, because that would've been ungodly humiliating) and pointed an accusing finger at the Mutant.

"I am Blue Jay: Defender of Justice and Champion of Hillwood!" I announced. "How dare you attack innocent people! As a Guardian, I will defend my people! So, on behalf of them—fuck off!"

The Mutant stared at me like I'd just pulled glitter from my pocket and sung it happy birthday. It didn't say anything, but its wide demonic eyes were glued to mine. Another uncomfortable silence swarmed me like flies. This silence felt worse then the earlier one. I swear, I could actually hear crickets chirping this time.

I looked to the side and caught sight of a small ball of tumbleweed blowing the distance. I watched with a raised brow as the wind blew the small ball to the other side of the road. Since when did we have tumbleweed in Hillwood?

My eyes flickered back to the Mutant when it began cackling. It's eyes met mine and it's laughter grew in volume. I couldn't help the irritation that hit me; of all reactions to give, it chose laughter? The Mutant doubled over, clutching its stomach, and let out another loud howl.

I frowned and crossed my arms. "Excuse me, Poison Ivy—"

"I'm sorry—" It actually surprised me by not only apologising but also wiping a lone tear from its left eye. It covered its mouth with its long hand as if to rid itself of its amusement. I rose a brow as, slowly but surely, its laughter died. Letting loose a calming breath, it stood to its full height and regarded me with a smirk. "It's just . . . I can't take you seriously! With that f-fall — and the speech—gah! And I'm supposed to be afraid of you?!"

As the Mutant launched into another fit of laughter, I gritted my teeth in exasperation and felt a vein beginning to pop in my tightening hands. I so very, very desperately wanted to hit this Mutant, but decided that now perhaps wasn't the time. Breathing through my flared nostrils, I forced myself to remain patient and wait.

Another few moments passed and the Mutant still didn't stop laughing. Clenching my jaw, I decided now was a good time to retry my introduction. "I—" I spoke with a deeper tone, one that was threaded with barely disguised anger, "—am Blue Jay. Defender of—"

"Yeah, yeah—I got it!" The Mutant interrupted, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

Reluctantly, I shut my mouth. It'd been such a good speech; one that I'd been repeating over and over in my head as Nel and I raced to the city. I'd even made minor edits and additions so I'd come across as a force to be reckoned with. A badass, if you will.

Perhaps I oughta write it down instead.

The Mutant lifted its shoulder up in a half-shrug and tilted its oval-shaped head to the side. Its eyes traced my form slowly, taking in my stance and build, before narrowing with warning. All signs of laughter became absent and it let out a dismissive scoff.

From the corners of my eyes, I checked for any nearby civilians lingering about. I tried throwing my senses—sound, sight and intuition—to feel any presences stuck in their cars or hellbent on filming this. Everything read null and I held up my shaky fists to my face and glared at the Mutant.

"Heh," The Mutant scrunched up its face in disgust. "And they said you'd be difficult—as if. This shouldn't be more then ten minutes."

They?" I repeated with a raised brow. "Who said—?"

Before I could finish my question, the Mutant fired an attack at me. It swung out its arms and, like ropes, vines were launched in my direction.

I dived for the ground and wrapped my arms over my head. I heard a crash from above me that left my ears ringing. Opening my eyes, I scanned my arms and legs for any injuries but came up empty (aside from those from the training session, of course).

I smiled—thank god for my reflexes.

Looking up, the smile fell from my face when I caught sight of the gaping hole in the wall behind me. My jaw dropped—the size of the hole was large enough to fit Phoebe through it!

"You idiot!" I barked at the Mutant.

Immediately, I leapt to my feet and jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding another intended death strike. I heard another crash but quickly bolted, yelling over my shoulder, "Your aiming sucks!"

Sprinting down the street, I could hear the Mutant's arms whizzing past me like bullets as it launched more attacks. I relied on my instincts and wove in-between cars and street lights to narrowly dodge the strikes. Adrenaline coursed through my systems as my legs took larger leaps. My blood felt like it were on fire but I pushed my limbs to keep running forward.

Helga, what are you doing?! I heard Nel cry out, but I didn't slow. What did I tell you about running away! You're a Guardian—fight!

Easy for her to say—she was watching from an alley without so much as a hair being touched. If I died, she could turn to the other Guardians, whoever they were. She had plenty to spare. But, for me, if I died, well, I died. There wasn't any coming back and I doubt my death would be quick and painless.

Still, a small voice spoke from the corners of my mind. You are a Guardian, are you not? What was it you said?

'I am Blue Jay: Defender of Justice and Champion of Hillwood!!'

You're Blue Jay—you called yourself a defender and a champion. Is this what you call defending, running away?

Mind blank, I skidded to a hasty stop. I could faintly hear Nel as she barked out orders at me—tell me to move, to look out, that I was an idiot for just standing there—but the blood that pumped in my ears was too loud. I was unable to move, rooted to this spot, but my mind was far off in the distance.

'How dare you attack innocent people! As a Guardian, I will defend my people!'

Not two minutes ago, I had spoken those words. Those words that had, for whatever reason, felt so familiar—so at home with me. I had declared my protection of this city, called these people my people.

'To me, Blue Jay represents a—I dunno—some type of protection?'

Phoebe.

My dear best friend. She hadn't witnessed the attack last night yet wholeheartedly believed in my abilities. She believed in me over the police and proclaimed me as a hero.

Not only her—so had the entire school. They'd expressed gratitude and fascination with me. Today had been spent gossiping about the mysterious Blue Jay and her cool superpowers. They didn't know what that thing from last night was but they still believed in Blue Jay's protection.

Surely, they must've seen something in Blue Jay—in me. Hell, Nel said that the pin had also sensed something in me that made me a worthy fit for the job. Perhaps there really was something that I couldn't see.

I balled my hands into trembling fists.

I could feel the fear that curled in my stomach and gnawed at my gut. But I didn't allow it to show on my face. My eyes were steady; I was a Guardian, not a coward. It wasn't just me I was fighting for, it was . . .

A flash of blonde hair ran through my mind for a quick second. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook the image from my head. No, he didn't have anything to do with this.

This battle was mine.

'There's just something about her that makes me feel secure . . .'

Letting out a small breath, I spun around to defiantly look the Mutant straight in the eye. It appeared surprised for a moment, its own eyes widening at my sudden movement. Then the corner of its mouth twitched with amusement before it sent a solid whip of vines bolting straight for me.

My nails were piercing my palms as I slid forward a hesitant foot. My body twitched with the impulse to run which, as the vines flew close and closer, became harder and harder to resist.

Sucking in a small breath through my nose, I counted to three then let it out again. I shut my eyes and concentrated on the rhythmic pounding of my heart. I blocked out the Mutant's cackles and Nel's distraught calls. My focus centred on my breathing and pulling forth any remaining strength I had. There was a powerful surge of something that rushed through me. It raced through my arms and sparkled at my fingertips.

Pushing forward another foot, I stretched out my arm, palm held up. I could hear the whip slicing through the air but forced myself to ignore it. Concentrating on the waves of power rushing through me, I felt something swirling in my gut. It travelled up my spine and vibrated along my arms in the form of goosebumps. I directed that energy to my palm where I could feel sparks nipping at my flesh.

Opening my eyes, I willed myself to form those sparks into a protective wall. One that would shield me from the Mutant's harm.

But nothing happening.

My eyes widened in horror.

The sparks at my palm abruptly disappeared. As did the feeling of immense power.

I was completely unprotected.

For a split second, I imagined myself outrunning it.

Spinning around, I'd managed to push a foot forward when something hot cut across my shoulder blade and sent me reeling forward onto my knees. Screaming, my hand flew to where the stinging resided. Thousands of needles erupted in my shoulder and I yanked my hand back. My stomach dropped when I caught sight of my fingers coated in red. Looking at the concrete, I realised that it too was painted the same colour as my fingers.

Blood—my blood.

An icy realisation overtook me. My powers—

Helga, run!

A stinging sensation ten times more powerful than the first struck my cheek and I felt myself flying through the air. There was a crash! as the back of my head bashed into something and a sharp crunch! as I landed on my stomach in a crumbled heap.

. . . there was a ringing in my ears—and I couldn't breath. Something was pummelling in my chest. Strangled but shallow gasps for air surrounded me—or were they mine? Something was beating and it was loud—so loud it became intolerable and mingled with the sharp ringing.

A white-hot pain erupted from my shoulder. Fire speared both my leg and cheek, only it was worse in my leg. The slightest movement sent instant flashes of pain—I think it was my thigh. Something . . . something was piercing my thigh—why was it suddenly wet?

My eyes at some point had closed and I fought to keep them open. White spots danced along my vision. Blinking rapidly, I tried to calculate where I was—it wasn't in the streets. It was—somewhere inside. But where? Shapes surrounded me—shards of some sort. Shards of what? My vision was getting too blurry. I felt my head drop back down before I could figure it out.

There was something wet and sticky where I lay. What was it? Was I lying in a puddle? It wasn't raining. And it definitely wasn't water—it was too warm and thick. It smelt metallic and sept through my clothes.

At the back of my mine, I heard something—no, someone calling my name . . . but I couldn't hear them. No, I was . . . too tired. It was getting harder to . . . stay . . .

Fire suddenly flared up my thigh and my eyes burst open. I screamed in agony and twisted around to reach my leg. My gaze was blurry and I had to stare for it to focus on my thigh—or rather, what was in my thigh.

A huge shard of glass.

My heart dropped.

The multiple shapes surrounding me were of glass. Shards of glass that lay on the floor like tiny daggers. The light from the sun shone violently off them.

My eyes found the gaping window not a few feet from me. That's where they came from—the window! Looking around, I realised that I lay in the middle of a restaurant. One with pale tables and plush pink chairs. But it was abandoned—the owners and customers must've fled.

I suspected that it was smart if I did the same.

I tried crawling on my hands and knees but a sharp pain lanced through my thigh. I couldn't bite down on my lip in time to stop myself from crying out. My eyes fell on the glass that had sunk deep into my thigh. Flesh pooled with blood and painted white a darkening red. My body wouldn't be able to heal itself with that still in there.

Tears blurred my already wavering vision. My teeth were clattering so I quickly bit down on my lip to control it. Stop being such a baby, Helga. I whispered. It's like ripping off a band-aid.

Fighting away the voice at the back of my head that argued no, this is nothing like ripping off a band-aid, you idiot, I reached out a shaking hand. I grasped the shard tightly, ignoring when the skin broke and crimson slithered down my palm. Sucking in a deep breath, I shut my eyes and silently counted to three.

Now.

Pain. That's all I could feel—white, blinding hot pain. Searing fiery bursts pulsated from my leg. It was jarring—brutal. Tears spilled down my red cheeks. Black mists swirled at the edges of my mind. There was a hoarse, heart-shattering scream and, with horror, I realised that it was mine.

My hand dropped the intact shard. I waited from the pulses to pass with a heavy chest, but they didn't. They spread further. I choked back a sob and clutched my hands to my chest.

There was a biting sensation from both my shoulder and cheek. My shoulder blade was wet and sticky. And something rose from my eye, I could feel it swelling. Touching a hand to my cheek, I realised it was a welt.

Tears dribbled down my chin as the reality hit me hard. This was real . . . all of this. This was all very real. Being a Guardian . . . wasn't about prancing around as a superhero. It wasn't about having millions of fans who believed in you. It wasn't about the cool powers or fun abilities. And it certainly wasn't about the talking cat.

Because none of that matter. What mattered was . . . I could get hurt—I could die.

Footsteps—somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear footsteps. But . . . where?

Biting my lip, I climbed back onto my hands and knees and began crawling. The sharp pain that flared up was almost enough to make me stop but I forced myself to go on.

A low rumble of chuckling came from behind me. "Didn't even last ten minutes," the voice scoffed, disappointed. "Seven, in fact."

I gritted my teeth but stayed silent.

Something smashed into the back of my skull and knocked me flat onto my stomach. Nausea twisted in my belly as the edges of my vision began darkening. My shoulder was dragged round so that I lay on my back, staring up into the Mutant's eyes. Its red eyes darkened and the corner of its mouth tilted up.

Its vines laced around my throat and squeezed. The Mutant's face loomed over mine—psychotic. My vision began to blur and I felt sick.

Nel, I thought weakly, I think this one you may have underestimated.

I felt my body leave the ground as the Mutant dragged me up into the air and closer to its face. The pressure around my neck became tighter. A psychotic grin stretched from ear to ear.

The spots were getting bigger and clouded my vision. My heart was booming in my chest. Something brushed against my fingers—something sharp.

"It's a shame you didn't last longer," the Mutant's voice was taunting. "You were weak but certainly amusing. I'm sure my Master would've—"

I shoved the shard of glass straight into the Mutant's eye.

Instead of dark red, its eye socket pooled with a murky green that exploded on my hand. Its remaining eye was glaze over in shock. The pressure from my neck was gone and I scrambled from its grasp, inhaling large gulps of air.

The Mutant blinked its remaining eye at me—and I leapt into action. Driving my closed fist into its eye, the Mutant fell to the ground in a large heap. I was on top of it immediately, straddling its waist. My fingers lunged for the shard and my stomach turned at the wet squishy noise as I yanked it from its eye socket. The Mutant screamed in agony and cupped its bloody eye. I clasped the glass shard in both hands and rose it high in the air. In a last attempt to save itself, its hands came up, spread across its face, and it let out another strangled cry. Its eye was full off terror, but I wasn't feeling particularly merciful.

The shard was clutched so tightly in my hands that my blood mixed with the Mutants. I let loose an animalistic cry as the shard fell and rose, over and over again. The Mutant's screams were swallowed by the third time it came down, but I barely noticed. The screams were replaced with a sickening wet thud every time the hard came back down.

All I could see was red. My body ached and cried for me to stop. My wounds burned in sync. The adrenaline was dying and now that the shard was out, thundering pulses from my thigh were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Someone called out to me. I became aware of a tiny padding of feet—I counted two pairs. But I couldn't stop.

The shard kept coming down onto the Mutant's face, or what was left of it. There was too much blood, too much flesh. At some point, the shard, drenched in our blood, slipped from my grasp. Balling my fists, I threw clumsy punches. As my fists sunk into the flesh, I let out mad, strangled cries that only became louder.

I had to make sure it was dead.

Something knocked into my side and rammed me from the mangled corpse and onto the ground. Everything was spinning so much that I wanted to puke. I climbed shakily to my hands and knees. My knife was at my side—I didn't question where it came from and quickly seized it.

"Helga—no!"

Nel leapt in the way and blocked my path. I froze, my hands stopping just an inch from her body. If she was at all scared, she didn't show it. She looked up at me with defiance. I noticed how deep her chest was moving and realised she was panting. But it wasn't out of exhaustion.

"N—Nel?" My voice was a whisper.

Her face composed but her eyes were sad—concerned. "Yes, Helga—its me." She nodded and took a step forward. "It's alright."

My breath came out short and fast. "N—Nel, it tried to—" my words faltered when my eyes fell on my hands.

Blood.

Green and red swirled together and made a murky brown colour. My hands were covered in it. And my arms and clothes were splattered with it. I could only imagine how insane I looked.

The knife fell to the ground.

Nel stepped forward again with a questioning expression. "Helga?"

My eyes weren't on her. Or my knife or even the mangled body. No, they were on my own trembling hands. The animalistic urges were gone and my mind was reeling. Why had I lost it like that?

A small sob worked its way from my throat. I crumbled to my knees, my eyes not slipping from my hands—my blood hands.

Nel moved closer and placed a soft paw on my thigh. "Helga," she spoke quietly, like being loud would set me off again. "Helga, we have to go. The police—they'll be here soon."

I wanted so badly to tell her I didn't care. That for once, being a Guardian wasn't on my mind. I didn't want any of this—I didn't want to be a superhero. I'd just murdered someone in cold blood. Even if it was a Mutant, it still had a beating heart and flesh, just like me.

But I knew Nel was looking out for me—for us.

I could hear distant sirens ringing through the air.

I turned to Nel, who gave me a reassuring nod. I pushed back my shoulders and nodded back to her.

It was time for Blue Jay to disappear.

---

The street was lit in a blood–red haze.

Flickering lights from police cars painted the buildings in a blushing copper that twisted and pulled shadows back until they had covered apartment buildings. The air down there had sharpened, resembling invisible weapons, as the crowds were forced behind barricades. Reporters had their arms stretched out towards the cops with microphones, phones, cameras, and from every direction came dozens of questions. Where was that girl? The one calling herself Blue Jay. Where had she gone? Why wasn't she answering any questions? Was she with the police, if not, was she an enemy to the people?

Sadly, I smiled.

How I wished to be them, oblivious. Demanding answers.

Ignorance was bliss.

"Helga," Nel's voice crept from behind me. My smile vanished, and the weight suddenly sat cold in my chest. "I . . . I think we should get going. It'd be wise if we went home. Your leg should heal soon enough after it's been washed."

Nel was right, I knew that. But I didn't tell her that, or anything.

The pain had dulled some time ago. It wasn't surprising anymore; being Blue Jay meant that things never lasted very long. I couldn't feel a thing anymore. Or maybe, I had just chosen not too. There was a part in my brain that was telling me that I was still torn up pretty badly. But it was like I was too tired and exhausted to even feel the pain anymore. Like the parts of me that were supposed to carry those signals to my brain had retired for the night.

So, I was stuck feeling nothing.

But Nel was right; even if I couldn't feel it, I knew I had to get everything taken care of. But for whatever reason, I couldn't force myself to go back.

It was funny; a few hours ago, I would have given anything to get back but now, I couldn't bring myself to even move.

I suppose it was because I was too exhausted to pretend anymore. That place was full of people who didn't care for my existence. It wasn't warm and it wasn't soft. It was cold, hard and daunting. It usually didn't bother me—I had gotten used to that long ago—but right now, warm and soft was exactly what I needed, but exactly what I wouldn't be getting. I would instead be stuck in another yelling match with Bob over whatever it was I had managed to do this time. I had a house, but never a home. There was always something I had done wrong. And if there wasn't, then he ignored me entirely. I knew that it was actually a good thing that no one would be asking me questions, but right now, that wasn't what I wanted.

The wind moved through my hair. I could feel my curls fanning out around my shoulders like a cape. I leaned back, pulling a leg to my chest. My injured leg dangled over the side of the building. Everyone was so occupied with their questions and harassing the cops, that no one spotted the answer to all of their questions sitting above them. No one saw the masked hero watching them from the top of the building.

"I guess this is it," I mumbled.

Nel appeared by my side. "Excuse me."

I smiled.

"This is it," I announced in a voice that felt so strained, it was like someone was choking me. "This is my life now, huh?"

She didn't respond at first.

Instead, she watched the crowd harassing the police, and I followed her movements. I found myself watching a girl with blonde hair, tied back in pigtails. She was wearing her pyjamas and had a phone in her hand, eyes zipping between each adult. I felt something press deep into my chest as I watched her. I wondered if I would be like her had I not accepted this life. Would I be down here, phone in hand, and demanding answers? Or would I shrug with a roll of my eyes, turning my headphones up, and decide it wasn't my problem? What had I given up, taking that pin? Would I ever be able to get it back?

"I'm sorry."

I didn't move. I knew her apology was sincere—she was sorry. She didn't do what she did because she liked it; she likely was as desperate as I had become. And I wanted to forgive her. Like Nel had said, she didn't choose Guardians, she could only sense them. And given that there was only so much time, she didn't have the luxury or resources to ease her chosen into this world, she had to work with what she had, which wasn't a lot.

But at the same time, I blamed her.

It wasn't fair, I knew that. Nel was desperate. She wanted to save the world, like I did, perhaps even moreso. She was doing everything within her power to make sure everyone stayed safe. But I had really scared myself today. It was like I had morphed into a different person—no longer was I a saviour everyone saw with halos in her hair and the sun floating from her fingertips. I hadn't even been Helga, who everyone looked down on, but simultaneously, didn't expect much from. I wasn't a warrior protecting her city from danger. I wasn't the hero who fought for love and justice. Instead, I had fought with vengeance. Fear had overridden my senses, until all that was left was instinct. It was like something in me had popped, and all the anger and rage I had been storing up exploded until I lost control.

I had seen myself shattered, in a way that had never happened before. Everything had been pumping and painted the town red. I hadn't been the city's wonder woman; in that moment, I had turned into something different. Something that scared me. I blamed Nel for it. She had been the one to contact me. Had it not been for her, never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was capable of . . .

My hands twitched.

I could still feel it—everything.

I reached for Nel. She flinched. I wasn't sure why, whether it was the sudden movement after the long pause between us, or if it was me she was afraid of, but before she could help it, her body had seized with panic. But when I laid my palm flat against her head, she looked up, startled.

I scratched between her ears.

She hesitated.

"Helga, about your powers—"

"I'm on my own now," I said, and tore my gaze away from hers.

My eyes pinned themselves back onto that girl again. She had shoved her phone into her back pocket, and was pulling her shirt tighter to her body. Her gaze flickered around and when her lip caught between her teeth, I knew she was contemplating going home. To her warm bed, with loving parents, possibly siblings, and a hot meal.

The feelings in my chest soured, like someone was twisting a knife in me. Because suddenly, I looked at her and saw everything I had taken for granted. I may not have had her home, but I had those worries. Homework, getting a good night's sleep, arriving to class on time. Those seemed so small now and more than anything, I wanted them back.

I was shaking, I realised. Hard. My entire frame vibrated so hard that my teeth clattered. And when my chest tightened, I let loose a sigh—I knew what that meant.

"Um, Nel?" I cleared my throat and pretended my voice hadn't wavered. Keeping my eyes down, I feigned fascination with the crowd. "Could . . . could I have a moment alone, please? Y'know, to think and stuff. Got a lot on my mind."

My laugh wasn't fooling anyone.

Nel knew what it was that I was asking.

"O–Of course, Helga."

She hesitated then climbed to her feet. Her eyes were on me for a second too long before she forced herself to move to the other end of the building. She readied herself for the leap down the fire escape before turning back to me. I wasn't looking at her but I could feel the worry in her gaze.

"Are you sure you want to be alone?"

Clenching my teeth, I forced a smile at her. But I didn't speak, I didn't trust myself to.

So, I nodded.

So, with another concerned look, she disappeared into the night.

And I was left alone.

The smile slipped from my face, and I turned back to the crowd. The siren lights swirled around them, lighting up their faces then leaving them in darkness again, over and over. I spotted another girl, cuddled up to a boy much taller than her. She had large and frightened eyes and when I looked at her, I suddenly remembered Phoebe.

'In the meantime, Blue Jay is our only defence.'

The pain moved in me like a knife, and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth. I tore my gaze away from the crowd like they had hit me, turning to the shadows, and felt something sting my vision.

'It's a scary thought, but at the same time, it isn't totally.'

That girl believed in me, so much. She had hope in me, despite knowing nothing about me. It was profound and so unlike Phoebe; she wasn't the type to throw out explanations and scientific equations for faith in the unknown. That just wasn't her. So, what was prompting her to do exactly that now? And how would she react if she found out I wasn't who she thought I was?

I wasn't a hero.

I had fooled myself into believing that maybe I could be, but I wasn't. Not if I was being honest with myself. Heroes didn't do that—act in anger, punish in violence. They saved people, not for any reward, but because it was the right thing to do. They didn't. . .

My gaze went back to my hand.

I rose it to my face. There was still blood caked beneath the nails. Tiger stripes along the back, no longer green, but a flaky brown now. The blood had dried, I couldn't bring myself to wipe it away. I felt like I was trying to hide something of myself. But now as I looked, I could see the trembles.

My hand shook and I knew that it wasn't from the cold.

Balling my hand into a fist, I swung at the ground. Biting my lip, I held back a cry as a searing pain burst in my knuckles and lit stars in my eyes. For a moment, I sat there. Cradled my knuckles to my chest, held back whimpers.

A cold breeze swelled at the back of my neck, lifting my hair, and when I rose my eyes, I suddenly saw Nel, her words swirling in my mind.

'For now, you, Helga, are the only Guardian.'

Everything she had ever said suddenly crashed into me. That she had found and chosen me, that there was an army that wanted to take over, that I was the only one who could defeat it, and then, a colossal wave of frustration hit me again and I was blinded with an unstoppable rage. Throwing back my head, I struck at the floor. The pain burnt but I paid it no mind. I ignored how my knuckles burned and the sharp crunch! They made when hitting the pavement. I threw another punch, then another, and another, and another . . .

Punch after punch, searing pain shot up to my shoulders. I lost track of how many times I hit the ground. I was disconnected from my body. Everything became a haze. All I knew was that a face stared up at me from the ground, beneath the blood. Salt stung my face. I didn't know what face it was, it kept changing. The Mutant, Nel, Bob . . .

It was like everything had collapsed onto me. I couldn't run, I could hide, I couldn't lie. I wasn't a hero, Phoebe was wrong. They were wrong. Except him, Bob. He was right. I was a screw up, I was a loser, I was a fake, I made mistakes.

This was a mistake.

I was a mistake.

'You look at her and think "glory".'

No. No. She was wrong.

'I am Blue Jay: Defender of Justice and Champion of Hillwood!'

Lies. I had been lying.

I didn't defend justice and I was never a champion of anything. I knew that; I knew that now. Heroes did things because they were good—they were on the side of righteousness and had strong hearts. But I wasn't like that. I wasn't the type to be chosen for stuff like that, I was the type that righteousness spat out like poison. I wasn't doing this because it was the right thing to do. I was doing this because I was scared.

I had accepted the role because I knew that I would get caught in the crossfire if I didn't. And I had been curious to know what it was that she had seen in me. I had always been the last choice my entire life. Picked last, forgotten about, looked at with disdain. I had been treated as the villain, but now, someone had actually looked at me and seen a hero. Had picked me first. I needed to know why, what was it she saw when she looked at me.

I wish she had left me wondering.

I didn't stop until my knuckles were torn and bloody. The sharp stinging was pushed to the darkest depths of my mind. My mission to keep the tears from running had failed. I tried to ignore it. Maybe, I reasoned, it would help wash away the blood.

Broken sobs wracked through my chest as tears streamed down my face. The walls that I had built all these years were pulled away from me. Now, I was struggling to stand. I lowered my face until my forehead was pressed to the ground. I wasn't a hero; I was a failure. I did this because I needed to know that I was more than Bob's words. More than his failure daughter. Now, I was trembling. Covered my head with my arms. But I couldn't stop trembling. Even as I pressed my face further into the ground, hoping to disappear. I trembled.

I couldn't stop.

"Why?" I whispered.

My powers . . . I thought by now they would . . .

---

"—and, with enough practise and training, you should be able to hold up multiple shields at a time. Hopefully."

I gawked at the black cat perched on top of my bed. "Rewry?"

Nel rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "Do try to restrain yourself from speaking with your mouthful, Helga." She wrinkled her nose as she took in the toothbrush sticking out of my mouth and the dripping foam hanging from my chin. "You are not five years old."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to face my mirror. The cut on my lip had long since healed and my cheeks were back to looking normal again. Most of the bruises were on their way to completely healing. Except, I remembered with a frown, the lump on the back of my head. Nel said that would take a day or two, given the size, but it should be gone relatively soon. Her nonchalance had, of course, irked me to no end. She didn't have to go around with a lump the size of my fist on the back of her head.

Leaning over the basin, I spat out my last mouthful of toothpaste and rinsed my mouth with a handful of water. After wiping my mouth with my pink fluffy towel, I strolled into my room, whistling a random tune, and headed for my desk.

I sat myself down in my chair but could feel Nel's curious stare and sighed. "What?" I asked flatly. I didn't bother looking over my shoulder at her and instead glanced up at the ceiling.

"I must confess, Helga," Nel replied, oblivious to my growing annoyance with her. What? This cat could bloody well chat your ear off! "I've only heard of Guardians with powers such as yours. I've never been there to witness them. Truthfully, I feel a little excited to begin your training."

I looked over my shoulder in shock. "Seriously?"

Nel nodded, looking actually giddy, which was an odd look for her honestly. "Oh, yes. I believe, if used wisely, your powers could aid you in becoming one very powerful Guardian. The possibilities could very well be endless."

Nel had my full attention. I swivelled around in my chair to face her, unable to stop the gigantic grin from spreading across my face. Crossing my arms over my chest and placing a foot on my thigh, I leaned back in my chair. "Oh, really?"

Nel gave me a funny look but nodded. "Yes. In fact, why wait to discover what it is you can do? Try activating your powers—now."

Honey, at this point, with the pride that swelled in my chest, you'd have to physically restrain me from not activating my powers.

I practically leapt to my feet, eager to test out my new abilities. Of course, I thought, it couldn't hurt to prepare myself for the big show . . .

I began jumping on the balls of my feet and twisted my neck from side to side. Nel gave me an extremely worrying look and hesitated in even speaking. But she did, of course. "Um, Helga, what on earth are you doing?"

I didn't answer at first. I stopped bouncing on my feet and began rolling my shoulders while clearing my throat. "Oh, just a few exercises," I explained.

Nel truly looked like she wanted to say something. But, for whatever reason, she just sighed and chose to keep her mouth shut.

Good choice.

A few more seconds passed before I deemed myself fit to test out my new superpowers. My heart raced with an untamed excitement. My mind was running a mile a minute, thinking of new and fun things I could do with my powers.

Clearing my throat again, I pushed back my shoulders and rose my chin. Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and mustered up whatever strength I could find that resembled what I'd felt not a few hours ago. Something tingly curled around in my stomach as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. Sliding a foot forward, I thrusted both my arms in front of me . . .

And frowned.

Pulling my arms close to my chest, I shot them back out again, my palms pointed towards Nel.

Nothing happened.

So, I tried again. Then a third time. And a forth. By the fifth time that nothing happened, I began to worry. What the heck was going on?

Arms still outstretched in front of me, I shot Nel a questioning look. Nel herself seemed a little stuck for answers. She wore a hard look of concentration on her face as her eyes traced down my arms. I knew that, if she had hands, she'd be stroking her chin right now as if she had a beard.

That was a weird image.

Shaking my head and focusing on the current issue, I asked her, "Um, Nel, where the heck did my powers go?"

My response was literally a small 'hmm' noise.

"Don't tell me I lost them!" I demanded, suddenly feeling very, very vulnerable. "I mean, that's not fair! I only had them for, what, ten minutes, tops? I almost died tonight, had it not been for them! How am I supposed to be a Guardian—"

"It's possible," Nel interrupted, looking up in thought. At some point during my ranting, I had begun pacing with my hands flying madly around me as I raved. I stopped in my tracks and spun around so quickly I almost fell. I was eager to hear any theories she had to offer. "Because your powers are mental based rather than physical, they'd be harder to control."

I didn't respond to that, but, looking up and understanding the confused look on my face, Nel continued. "Because your powers are reliant on your concentration, they'd be exceptionally more difficult to control rather then, say, something physical like enhanced speed."

I clucked my tongue; I wasn't entirely sure I liked that answer. "So, what your saying is that my powers haven't disappeared, then?"

"What I'm saying is that, due to your powers being tied down to your mental capabilities, they're likely to be quite unstable at first. They may seem difficult but, once they come back, you should eventually learn to control them." She tried to sound sure of herself. She tried to cover the hesitance with confidence. But something in the way her gaze shifted told me she wasn't quite as sure as she'd have me believe. "In the meantime, we're going to have to work on your other abilities as a Guardian. With some training, of course."

I rolled my eyes. "Sounds fun."

Nel frowned up at me. "This is not supposed to be fun, Helga," she spat out the word 'fun' like it were a disease. "This is serious. You're the only Guardian I've found and your powers are, for the moment, inactive. Though I'm quite sure they'll come back soon, we shouldn't just sick back with our feet up and wait for them to return. No, we should begin training. We simply do not have the time to relax with Acantha coming . . ."

As Nel continued to prattle on—stressing how important it was that I remained in 'tip top' shape and how we should began training as quickly as possible—I tuned her out. And that cat was such a chatterbox that she didn't even realise that I'd completely blocked her British nagging out.

I held my hands to my face, palms up, and examined them. I'm not sure what I expected to happen but disappointment hit me. Perhaps I had hoped for light to shine from my palms, as it had not two hours ago. That, like before, my powers would save me.

But nothing happened.

There was no light, no hairs standing on the back of my neck and no exhilarating feelings. Just my plain, calloused palms.

I swallowed loudly. It was only thanks to luck that I had made it out tonight. The force behind that Mutant's punches easily could've killed me. And without my powers there to save me like they had tonight . . .

My hands fell limp to my side. I noticed my feet were red and blistered and grimaced. Those boots may have been cute, but decidedly not appropriate for running around at night.

Something clasped my heart as water welled up in my eyes. I blinked away the tears and turned from Nel, who was so wrapped up in her lecture that she didn't notice.

I would not cry—I refused.

There was no reason to act like a sissy. Nel said we would begin training tomorrow. I wasn't really thrilled at the idea of basically running around in lingerie for hours after school, but I trusted that Nel knew what she was doing. Even if my powers didn't return, I still had a strength that rendered me far from weak.

Shaking the dark thoughts from my mind, I tried, for once, to focus on the brighter side. As a Guardian, my abilities were considerably more powerful then when I was Helga. As Blue Jay, strength thrived through my body and surged with freedom. I wasn't tied down to any weaknesses. Being Blue Jay—being a superhero—was exhilarating, if not for the powers then for saving someone else.

The corners of my mouth turned up. Yeah, even without my forcefields, I was far from weak. I was a hero. Besides, at some point, they'd likely spring back when I needed them, just as they had tonight.

I nodded to myself—yes, they'd come back.

I knew it.

---

But they hadn't.

My eyes fluttered open to darkness. It folded around me, pressing into my body until I was choking. The sirens no longer flashed, the chatter had since stopped. Everyone had gone home. How long had I stayed out here? My eyes felt worn, throat dry. My body moved without permission; I uncurled myself to sit on my knees, wrapping around my torso.

The shivers hadn't stopped.

My powers—they hadn't shown up today. They hadn't shown up when I needed them most. I'd almost died believing they would.

What superhero lost her powers?

Tears came fresh.

Was I even a superhero? Superheroes fought for justice, out of love and care. I'd fought with rage and anger. If that had been caught on camera, would Blue Jay still be hailed as a hero? Would Phoebe still believe in her?

Teeth grazed my lip.

But what about that man?

An image flashed through my mind; the man I had saved today. The one I had urged to get out of here. I blinked—yes, that was right. I had saved him. And many others. I'd saved many people tonight, that I couldn't deny.

That was my job now—as a superhero.

As Blue Jay.

The wind blew my hair as I stumbled to my feet. My fists were scrunched tightly so I wouldn't tremble. I crept to the edge of the building and peered down where so many confused individuals had stood, minutes before.

'I am Blue Jay: Defender of Justice and Champion of Hillwood!'

Those were the words I had spoken. I had declared myself the protector of this city, defender of justice. Whether I believed in it myself, that was what I had promised—I had to live up to it. I had to protect the people of this city and the world.

It was true, this would be a regret I would carry with me. But that was not on them; my mistakes shouldn't be their burden to play. I should have played safe, rather than jumping in without weighing the options, but I hadn't. I had danced with the devil and now I had to pay for it.

Now, I would do everything within my power, with or without my superpowers, to save everyone.

But, a small voice spoke, who was going to save me?

---

. . . see why I might change it to an M? Yowza, that got tense. No one said being a magical girl was gonna be easy. And THAT most certainly is not.

Okay, so wow, y'all now should have a firmer grasp on my interpretation of teenaged Helga. Even without the whole superhero thing happening, she's already dealing with some type of anxiety/depression issh. This whole superhero thing is not gonna make it any easier. I dunno, looking at Helga's life at home and how she acts to others, I see her becoming extremely isolated from her peers as well as going through some very personal issues that she won't let anyone in on (in this case, Phoebe).

Also, y'all may have noticed that Phoebe has somewhat changed to. Now she's more assertive, giggly and less minion-y to Helga. Why? Because that's how I see her growing up. As a child, clearly she's extremely timid, patient and a push over. Even with Helga, she acted moreso like a minion then a friend. As a teenager, I do see Phoebe growing out of this. I mean, good God - the girl is in high school! No one has time to be anyone's minion! I see, as Phoebe matures, so does her friendship with Helga. It's less minion-like, since I don't think anyone acts like that in real life. Also, Phoebe is Helga's only friend, so I feel like Helga would treat her with a little more respect and affection now. DON'T GET ME WRONG, PHOEBE IS STILL SHY, but around Helga, her best friend, she'd be more assertive and confident, if that makes sense.

So, after completely unnecessary analysis of Phoebe, I hope y'all understand that if any character turns up from the show and acts OOC, it't not necessarily because of ignorance, but my interpretation of how the character would have changed. I mean, the cartoon was set when the characters were kids - they're teenagers now. People change, especially as teenagers. There's no reason, it's just life. No one stays exactly the same and I'm refusing to write the characters exactly how they were in the show when they were nine (I think?)

Phoebe's not as timid, Arnold's not quite as innocent and Helga has a shit tonne of emotional issues she needs to deal with. So, in short, if a character may see OOC, it's more then likely my interpretation of how I see them as teenagers. Like Nadine. Oh my god, I cannot wait to write Nadine, she's probably my favourite so far (I know, I haven't written her but I have a vision!)

Also, can I just say that I fucking love writing Ms. Ainsley? She's gotta be my favourite character so far. I'm not sure if it came across as this, but she's actually a mix of Sergeant Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph and the Coach from Teen Wolf. I love both those characters and think they're among the best things from their respective media. I dunno, when envision Ms. Ainsley, she just struck me as a mixture of these character - y'know, hardcore, aggressive, intimidating but also completely out of line in her job, selfish and willing to take her anger out on her students. I dunno, I just enjoyed writing her and I hope you enjoyed reading her.

ALSO MASSIVE THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED:

Yali. Page: Thanks for the review, darl! And, mmm, I dunno, we gonna have to find out. (althoughatthispointidon'tevenknow)

Elie: Thank you so much! Yes, Helga is by far my favourite character in the show, so it's gonna be a ball (and pain) to write her as the protagonist!

Nikki Pond: Aww, thank you so much! Yeah, superhero AU's are my favourite to! And don't worry, their romance will definitely be realistically slow paced, I'm not rushing anything!

Dhamariza:¡Aww gracias! Lo siento, si esto no tiene sentido, tuve que usar google traductor, jaja! Pero muchas gracias por dejar una reseña, espero que este es un capítulo satisfactorio!

Heather42190: Thanks, hon! Opps, that's embarassing - but don't worry, I went back and changed his eye colour to green. I have no idea why I thought it was blue, haha! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

0ToxicRose0: Tell me about, we need more Magical Girl AU's! But thank you for your encouraging review! I hope you liked reading this chapter!

Guest: Thank you extremely much, dear!

HelgaGeraldine: FINALLY finished this chapter - so wish granted! haha, thank you. I struggled with this chapter, but hopefully my writing hasn't lost it's quality, haha.

Anywhoosies, what'd y'all think of the chapter? Kinda dark? Not dark enough? Not character based enough? I dunno, if you have any constructive criticisms or any words of wisdoms, just chuck me a review.

Also, Question of the Day: What music do you see Helga listening to as a teenager? Can include music from now as this story is not set in any particular year.