Late. Peter was always late. It was probably just his luck in life.

Rushing through the hallway, Peter raced against the clock to get to his class on time. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to get detention again and then his mom would show up and β€”

The sweep under his legs brought Peter down. From his position on the ground, Peter heard laughter above him, and he gritted his teeth as he picked up his books and rose to face the school's worst bully: Nicholas. To top it all off, Nicholas now had four other guys for backup. Peter inspected his usual escape routes and saw that they were currently blocked. Great. Now he was really going to be late. Peter frowned, more in annoyance than in fear

Nicholas stepped toward him, but Peter stood his ground. Other kids would've fallen to their faces and begged not to be beaten up, but not Peter. He was much too stubborn for that. He didn't grovel or whimper. Sure, he protected himself as best he could, and he'd escaped as often as possible when the situation allowed it, but when he was pushed into a corner, Peter never cried out for mercy. He'd rather take a beating straight on with no fear. Or at least, no outward display of fear. And that he had, several times before when escape wasn't an option. Yeah, it hurt. But his large amount of pride in his small amount of body had stayed intact throughout all his beatings. "Why are you guys here?"

"I wanted the answer to question five," Nicholas said, snorting. "Why do you think we're here, stupid?"

"I have class. I'm late," Peter said.

"Do you think I care?"

Peter stepped backward, looking left and right for a way to escape. Usually he could avoid this situation just by getting away, but now he saw that the other four boys were flanking him on the left and right and preventing his escape. He was trapped. This was going to hurt. A lot. "Go pick on someone your own size," Peter muttered, bracing himself to flee at the next opportunity.

"But your size is much better. How old are you, anyway? Eight?"

"Twelve," Peter growled.

"You're pretty skinny for twelve," Nicholas laughed.

"And you're pretty fat for fourteen," Peter shot back.

Nicholas's eyes flashed. "Now you're going to get it, stupid."

Peter knew he wasn't stupid. Sure, he pushed his boundaries every so often. But he wasn't stupid. "I know you are, but what am I?"

Nicholas's eyes narrowed. "I'll put you in the hospital for that. Too bad you won't be able to run home to your daddy when I'm through with you."

The words struck Peter much deeper than he would've ever let on. Blinking hard, Peter rushed Nicholas. He didn't care that Nicholas had both a foot on him and fifty pounds. He didn't care that it was five to one and he was horribly outnumbered. All he knew was that Nicholas would pay for he'd said. He wanted Nicholas to hurt as he did. But Nicholas just laughed and pushed Peter back. Peter crouched against the locker he'd been pushed against, but his eyes were fiery with anger as Nicholas approached.

"How would you like a broken . . . everything?" Nicholas asked quietly, raising his fist.

Peter saw the punch coming. As he heard the fist drawing near, Peter's hands went to his face and he closed his eyes. He waited for the impact. And waited. When Peter next opened his eyes, he was confused to see that Nicholas had frozen in his spot. His punch was halfway to

Peter but wasn't moving. What was going on?

Peter stood up and easily moved out of Nicholas's way, then looked at the other four bullies who were also in the process of attacking him. Two of them were proceeding to kick him, and the other two had their fists raised. Their facial expressions had been frozen also. Peter couldn't help laughing at this.

But what was going on? Had time stopped? Was he now stuck in a world where everything was frozen? Well, no matter. Even if he was stuck like this for the rest of his life, he'd still get revenge on the one bully who'd made his life torture. And he'd also show a thing or two to the other four. Walking up to each of the bullies, he punched each of them to teach them a lesson. He got two in the face and two in the stomach before turning to Nicholas. Peter stuck his tongue out at Nicholas before getting down to business of dosing out a good helping of revenge. Cracking his knuckles with vengeance, Peter punched Nicholas in the face four times, then kicked both of his legs and both of his arms. Satisfied now with his performance, Peter stepped backward and sighed.

Then suddenly, time seemed to accelerate. In an instant, Peter saw each bully fly off at a couple hundred miles an hour in whatever direction Peter had hit them. They slammed into lockers, classroom doors, and water fountains. Peter was surprised to see that the two bullies he'd hit in the face now seemed to have both broken jaws and noses, while the other two he'd punched in the stomach seemed to be doubled over in pain and unable to breathe. Then he turned to Nicholas, dumbfounded when he was that Nicholas's entire face seemed broken, and every single one of his limbs seemed to be sticking out at odd angles. What was going on? What had happened? Had he, Peter, actually done these things?

Upon hearing the screaming, several teachers came out of their classrooms and looked upon the scene in horror. A couple hundred classmates left their rooms as well, and when they saw Peter standing up and Nicholas on the ground, everyone began cheering. Peter, however, didn't know what to think. Should he feel proud that he'd successfully taken down the school's worst bully, or should he be horrified at what he'd just done? What should he do? Suddenly, Peter felt a grip on his arm and he turned and saw a school teacher looking down at him.

"What happened?"

Peter shrugged. "They were going to beat me up, so I . . . fought back." Peter hadn't known what to expect, but the reaction to his words surprised even him. Now he was the one who was in trouble. But those bullies had been the ones who'd been trying to beat him up! Didn't the teachers know that?! No one, however, who had witnessed the aftermath of the scene listened to his story. No one had even seen what'd happened, and after getting three of the five kids Peter had beaten up to the hospital and given the other two time to recover, Peter's mother had been called.

He was in trouble. Big trouble.

Within thirty minutes, Peter's mom was at the school. Within another five minutes, Peter, his mom, and the entire school board all crammed into the principal's office, waiting to hear an explanation. Peter shrugged as they all looked at him.He hadn't even known what'd happened. How was he supposed to tell them? Would they even believe him? He was a bit notorious for lying . . .

"Nicholas wanted to fight me," Peter said. "I fought back."

"You successfully fought off five boys who were twice your size?" the school principal, Randy, asked.

Peter glanced at his mom, who was looking back at him with her arms folded. He swallowed and nodded.

"And you weren't in possession of any weapons?" one of the teachers asked.

At this, Magda stood up from the chair she'd been sitting at. "Those boys all had injuries that looked more like they'd been in a car accident. There's no way Peter would've been able to inflict so much damage with either a knife or a gun."

Peter blinked, amazed at his mother's prowess. He nodded.

"Nevertheless, three boys are now hospitalized," Randy said, staring at Peter. "How were you able to pull off such a stunt?"

Peter looked again at his mom who had returned to her seat. "Well, right when Nicholas was going to punch me . . . he froze."

Randy blinked. "He froze?"

Peter nodded. "They all did. But I was able to move around them really easily. It was weird, but while they were all frozen I punched them and I guess I . . . really hurt them."

The school board was now staring at him as though he were crazy. It reminded Peter of the time he'd knocked over the lamp in his mom's house and he'd blamed it on their cat. They didn't have a cat. That hadn't gone well; this was going even worse.

"Frozen," Randy repeated, lifting his eyebrows briefly.

Peter shrugged. Why had he told the truth? Of course they wouldn't believe him. And there hadn't been any witnesses except for the five bullies he'd beaten up. They didn't know what had happened, either.

"So you managed to stop time?" one of the teachers asked.

"No, it was like I was . . . moving really fast. I think."

Now the entire school board seemed exasperated with his words. Peter opened his mouth to say more, but this time he closed it, feeling more and more foolish with each passing second. The school board seemed to be debating now, and Peter waited with baited breath to hear the outcome. What was going to be his punishment?

"Peter Maximoff, you are hereby expelled from this school due to carrying weapons on the premises," Randy said.

Peter blinked, then sputtered. "W-what? But I wasn't carrying weapons!"

"This is not up for discussion. You hospitalized three boys and this sort of violence isn't allowed at our school. Besides, if you really are able to run at super speeds as you say, then that makes you a freak. We don't allow those kinds in our schools, either."

"But . . . " Peter glanced over at his mom, surprised and scared to see that she had risen up in a rage. Her mouth had also drawn into a fine line. Uh-oh. She was really mad.

"I'll leave with Peter, then," Madga said, "but let me tell you this"β€” she jabbed a finger at the school board β€”"maybe if you kept better control of your students and better reign on your bullies, things like this wouldn't have happened. My son does not carry weapons, and you all are fools to blame him with such things. Just ask any doctor."

"You're calling us liars?" Randy asked.

Magda smiled. "It took you that long to realize it?" She turned and grabbed Peter by the wrist. "Come on, son. We're leaving." Right at the doorway, his mom turned around one last time. "And let me tell you this, you bunch of proud, overpaid, heartless jailors. My son is not a freak!"

Peter was hauled out of a room of stunned teachers and he and his mom walked through the school hallways to quiet cheering and claps. The other kids lined the halls like a parade crowd, still unable to believe that Peter Maximoff himself had singlehandedly taken down the most feared bully of the school. Now he was a celebrity. He'd become a celebrity and had been expelled from school all on the same day. How depressing was that?

Soon he and his mom were in her car, and Peter turned to his mom. He could tell that she was still really mad, but maybe he could say something to soothe her temper. "Mom, I'm telling you, they really did freeze andβ€”"

"I believe you."

Peter was still talking over her words, and it took him a moment to realize what she'd said. He blinked. "You do?"

Magda nodded. "Peter, I always wondered if you'd turn out like Lehn. I was kind of waiting for it, actually, because with a father who wields metal, I just figured that it'd be passed down. I was right."

Peter blinked again. "You really believe me?"

"Yes."

So, out of all the people in the world, at least his mom was on his side. That was good. "But why can't I do it again? Ever since those bullies, I haven't been able to move really quickly."

"Your powers will emerge more strongly the closer you get to puberty," Magda said. "At least that's what Lehn told me."

Peter nodded, then remembered one of the last things Randy, the school principal, had said. "So, I really am a . . . freak?" Instantly, Peter felt his mother's hand on his shoulder.

"You are no freak, Peter. You are different and wonderful. People are just scared of things that they don't understand."

Peter nodded, grinning a bit. "So I'm special."

"You are very special, Peter."

Well, that was good. Special was always better than being usual or normal.

"However, I'm going to have to ground you."

Peter's perfect little bubble was shattered in an instant. "What? Why?!"

"You didn't have to beat up those boys, Peter, but you did. You put them in the hospital, and for that, I'm punishing you."

"But how was I supposed to know that it would put them in the hospital?"

"Peter, you broke practically every bone in Nicholas's body; it's a wonder he's not in a wheelchair for life. That sounds less like self-defense and more like revenge."

Peter opened his mouth to say more, but closed it. How was his mother so good?

"No television or video games for a week."

Peter shrugged. That, he could take.

"And no music for a week."

Now that was crossing the line. Peter glared over at his mother, about to refuse her conditions, but he knew that this wasn't up for discussion. She had turned back to driving and now had her eyes on the road. Sulking a bit, Peter's mind drifted back to the bullies and how time had slowed for him. If only he could do that now, then he could rescue his music player from the hands of his mother long before she got ahold of it. But it was not meant to be. Before he could blink, his precious music was gone.

He'd lamented. He'd begged, and he'd pouted. But the music was gone. It was a shame, really. His favorite band had just released a new album, and after Magda had bought the album for him yesterday, he was overjoyed at the thought of listening to it. Now he'd have to wait a whole seven days! Could he even survive that long?

"Peter, come here. Someone is here to see you."

Groaning as though he were in dire pain, Peter rolled off his bed and walked upstairs to see who the company was. Maybe if he'd been paying more attention, he might've heard the strain in his mother's voice. But he noticed nothing, and only after Peter was in the living room did he gasp as he saw three police officers sitting in the living room. Instantly, Peter panicked. All his normal exit routes were unblocked, so all he had to do was choose one and he'd be out of here. His mom, however, was one step ahead of him. She put a hand on his arm to prevent him from running, and together they walked into the living room and sat down. Peter again inspected his exit routes. They were still clear. If the situation called for it, he could be out of here in two seconds.