6.

"Rrrrrring!"

The school bell rang, and the teacher's voice was soon muffled by the horde of primary school students rising up and packing up to leave. Taylor was still sitting on her seat, scribbling down answers for her homework, so she wouldn't have to do them at home. Emma was already standing, her backpack secured.

"Gimme a minute!" she barked out, writing furiously.

Her friend sighed with great exaggeration. "Daddy is waiting for us. You can do those when you're home."

"I'll be quick!"

Another sigh, this one more resigned. "I'm going to the car. Come soon."

Taylor nodded, and turned her whole focus onto the homework. She had better thing to do at home, and she wouldn't waste time on such useless things such as knowing trees from one another. She quickly filled out the maple, oak, and pine, but left the one she didn't know over – she could whine the answer from Emma the next day.

The pencil was in her bag soon, and then she was running through the halls, meeting up with her friend who had walked with a much more sedate pace. Emma smiled at Taylor, and soon they were standing outside the school building, waiting for her friend's dad to arrive. Ever since Ellie had moved to another state, the two had been inseparable.

"…and Alexandria just punched her through the wall – the wall, Taylor! – and it was so amazing!" said an excited Emma, describing her action-packed trip to Los Angeles. "It was so – uugh! She's my new favorite hero."

"But- but," spluttered Taylor. "What about Mouse Protector?"

"Has she ever punched somebody through a wall?" asked her friend, looking at her like she was too little to understand. "Besides, Mouse Protector is a hero for kids. I'm not a kid anymore."

"We're seven, Emma. We're kids."

"I'm super mature," Emma huffed, crossing her arms. She was still smiling, though. "Hey, Tay. What superpower would you want to have?"

Taylor opened her mouth to say that she already had a superpower – the Force was something she'd had forever. She wanted to show off her levitation tricks and how she could sense basic emotions, or how she sometimes saw dreams of the future. While her mom and dad were great, she wanted to have someone admire her. Even if she knew being too prideful was bad.

But her mom's words echoed through her head. You can't tell anyone about your talent in the Force, Annette had said. There are bad people throughout the whole galaxy who would like nothing more than to be rid of us.

Taylor thought that her mom's caution was a bit exaggerated. As far as she knew, nobody on Terra believed that the Force existed, and why would anybody even be after them? They hadn't done anything bad, and she doubted galactic supervillains were specifically aiming towards them. Her mother had only thinly smiled, and told Taylor that she'd explain the reason when she'd be older, and that for now she shouldn't talk so much about either space or her abilities.

Taylor wanted to be a superhero, though. Maybe her mom would let her be one when she was older, like how she would let her pilot the Mirage or get a puppy. She could put on mask and nobody would recognize her, letting her keep her promise of secrecy for her mom and still help people and put bad guys in prison.

"Uh… I dunno," answered Taylor. For now, she had to keep secrets from her best friend, as much as it rankled her. She wouldn't break a promise she'd made.

"C'moon!" cajoled Emma, grinning at her. "There's something you'd want, just pick something! You can't pick Eidolon, though."

"Myrrdin is pretty cool."

"He's a wizard. He doesn't count," retorted her friend. "I don't think 'being a wizard' is a superpower."

"He's not a real wizard, dummy," said Taylor. "He a parahuman, like everyone else with powers."

"No he isn't."

The girls started pleasantly bickering about Myrrdin's status as a wizard, waiting under an awning near the school for Emma's dad to come, the rain softly drizzling down. Soon enough the car arrived, and they both climbed in quickly, now decided on that Myrrdin was neither parahuman or wizard, actually being a shape-shifting hedgehog from the core of the planet. The whole car ride was spent on giggling and making up adventures for the supposed hedgehog.

They soon arrived to Taylor's house. She managed to get the answer for her tree-questionnaire from Alan, Emma's dad (The answer was birch), and then said goodbye for them both. Taylor scampered quickly to the porch, not wanting to get her books wet, and turned around to see the car driving away with a grinning Emma waving goodbye at her. She waved back.

Taylor opened the door using her own key she'd gotten when she'd started primary school, and called out. "Anyone home?" she tried, and when nobody answered, she went in.

Her dad was probably at work again. Ever since the Leviathan had appeared, he'd been busy negotiating, talking, firing people, hiring people, and being buried in work. Lately the hassle had been winding down, so hopefully she'd have more time to spend with him soon. While Danny wasn't from outer space, he was still a super dad and Taylor enjoyed playing games and spending time with him.

Her mom had left a couple days ago on a trip to find some resources on nearby planets and meteoroids to sell, and wouldn't be back until the end of the week. She'd left Taylor with exercises to carry out, both physical and in the Force. Taylor was already missing her – the bond between them was stretched far apart, and she could feel Annette only very faintly. The house was very lonely without her.

Taylor shucked off her sneakers to the shoe rack, taking off her slightly wet coat and hanging it up to dry. She took a premade sandwich from the fridge and ate it, throwing her school backpack in her room. She'd do her homework later; she had a different practice to do.

Stepping outside to the backyard, Taylor released her emotions of annoyance towards the weather to the Force. While it seemed a bit dumb to care much about small feelings of irritation, it could cloud her judgement and thoughts if left alone. At least, that's what her mother said, also impressing that practice would make perfect.

She placed down three stones on the ground in front of her, and sat down cross-legged. Telekinesis didn't come to her as naturally as empathy, but she tried her best. The purpose of the exercise was to levitate the stones to the air, one by one. When they all were in the air, first she was supposed to rotate them on their own axis, and then around each other. Taylor had never gotten that far – rotating them had proved to be too much for her. Her mom, who could lift trees if she wanted to, said that the problem didn't lie in her capabilities, but in her belief. Sometimes Taylor wondered if that was really true, and that she actually was just bad with telekinesis.

She reached out to the Force, and floated the first pebble upwards, until it was on the level of her eyes. The first one was always easy. The second usually proved also little difficulty, and Taylor levitated that one up quite easily too. The third was a bit harder, causing the other two rocks shaking slightly. But she managed it, and soon there were three stones floating in front of her. Now the hard part, she thought.

Taylor closed her eyes, getting a mentally good grip on the stones. She used her hands to emulate the movement of a rotation, and soon enough she could feel the first pebble turning in the air. Unfortunately, the other two had fallen on the ground, no Force to keep them up. This time Taylor didn't bother to release the annoyance she felt.

What was she doing wrong? She knew she could turn and float things, so why couldn't she rotate them all at the same time? Taylor kicked the fallen rocks, sending them bouncing around the fenced yard. Stupid rocks could float themselves for all she cared, she thought, but still ran to pick them up and set down on the ground, ready to try again.

Taylor's afternoon went like that, trying to practice her abilities in the Force. She didn't make much progress, just barely being able to rotate two rocks on their own, with the third lying on the ground. It rankled her greatly, but she managed to release most of the frustration away in time. Her exercise was almost finished, when it was interrupted by a small voice.

"Oh my," said Taylor's eighty-year-old neighbor over the fence, wide eyes locked on to the floating rocks in front of the little girl. They then looked at each other for what felt like minutes.

Then the grandpa slowly backed off from the wall, before sprinting as fast as an old man could inside. Taylor just sat there, stone-still, feeling the wariness and caution and fear exuding from the old man, but only understanding one thing – she'd just revealed the one thing she wasn't supposed to.

Her mom wasn't going to like this.

-o-