Guild Invites 4.4

Telling my story to my father was different than all the other times I'd told the story about how Beetle Knight and I took down Lung. I started with meeting Beetle Knight, but that wasn't a good place to start. I wasn't about to disclose how easily James could unmask capes. So I had to skimp on details, which I claimed was to protect James's secret identity. I did admit to knowing James years before, and that he was one of very few people who stood up to my bullies at Winslow. That mollified my father enough to continue. I gave my father the same Brute/Thinker that got better with practice half-truth version of James's power. I admitted that the Dungeons and Dragons group was a lie, and the story of my made up friends unraveled.

I had to backtrack to explain that my friend 'Paris' was actually Parian. My father was excited about my deal with Parian. He wanted to see my costume and was very impressed despite the soot stains and battle damage. I mentioned the missing skirt-nets and cape, but he focused on the armored costume. He really liked that we had discussed the possibility of a partnership where I provided spidersilk cloth and she did costume design. The praise felt pretty good until I realized why he was so excited.

"You want me to go rogue instead of being a hero, don't you?"

My father spread his hands and shrugged. "Is being a rogue such a bad thing? Especially at your age? Maybe postpone fighting in the streets until you're older?"

I was about to say no. I had every intention of being a hero and fighting crime. However, Miss Militia had a point. James and I could have died last night. Fighting Lung had been a mistake. James's power accelerated our learning curve to bullshit levels. It really made better sense to step back and focus on training. We'd come so far in two days. I could only imagine how far we could be in two weeks. Taking time off now to train would make us both better and stronger heroes with the added bonus of keeping my father happy. After a few weeks maybe he would come around to the idea of Beetle Knight and me fighting crime.

"I don't know." Time to play things cagey with my father. "I still want to be a hero someday, but we certainly didn't plan to fight Lung last night. I think Beetle Knight and I need to spend more time in training. That would give me time to explore the rogue thing as a sideline."

«Your skill in [Bluff] has increased by 1.»

My father clearly wasn't buying what I was selling. "How much practice? Weeks? Months? Until you're eighteen?"

I was annoyed by the pop-up. I wasn't really lying, just shading the truth a little. Besides it obviously hadn't convinced my father. "Um, what if I agree not to go out again to fight crime until I've discussed it with you."

"Agreed." My father snapped on that offer with a predatory grin. "At a minimum. Now, tell me about how you ended up in a fight with Lung if you didn't plan it."

"Sure." Heh, I was doing better at this than I expected. I'd already got my father to agree to me continuing to practice with James and he wanted me to pursue my deals with Parian. I launched into my by now well-rehearsed version of how Beetle Knight and I had fought Lung. My father picked at different details. Like why we had decided to follow the ABB members after we'd slipped their net.

"That right there was your first mistake. Do you have a Stranger power that you've been hiding?"

"No." Although «Stealth» might get there some day. "However, I can observe people through my bugs from blocks away."

"So to recap, you decided to try and be sneaky despite not having Stranger powers." My father negotiated for a living. I'd been on the receiving end of this tactic before. He was twisting what I said, making it sound stupid, or at least more stupid than it actual was. "Please, continue."

I continued omitting most of the details like how we'd used an Illusion Barrier to dodge them. I only said that we followed them to a meeting and then moved in even closer down a tiny narrow alleyway.

"And there we have another mistake. I thought you said that you could monitor them through your bugs from blocks away. Why did you need to get in close?"

"So we could hear. I can only track position through my bugs. I don't have sight or sound." At least not yet.

"Taylor, can you at least admit in hindsight that sneaking up on an ABB gang meeting was an action that was likely to lead to getting in a fight?"

I frowned. I couldn't argue that point, because that was exactly what had happened. "I guess, but if we hadn't sneaked up, we wouldn't learn that Lung was going to kill kids. That's why we intervened."

My father pounced. "And that's where you made another mistake. Why did you have to take on Lung alone? Couldn't you have called the PRT or the cops?"

I suppressed a snort at the idea of regular Brockton Bay police trying to stop Lung from doing anything. "If I'd had a cellphone, I could have called, but I didn't have one." Low blow. Driving and texting had killed Mom, but if I had a cellphone I could have called for help. I also could have told my father that I was running late.

My father's face twisted into a grimace. "You know why I don't like those things, but… you're right. If you continue this, we'll get you a cellphone."

Hooray, a small victory in what was turning into a rout. I decided not to mention the PRT phone that I'd hidden. Having my own cell phone would be very useful. It was also a huge concession from my father. I needed to stay positive. This could be worse. I'd expected to be grounded forever and shoved into the Wards.

"So, not having a cellphone you thought that the only other option was to throw your lives away to save kids?"

"That's what heroes do!" I'd agree to a delay for training, but my powers were stronger than I'd realized. I'd taken down Lung with James's help. "Besides, we didn't throw our lives away. We won." How did that quote go? Victory forgives all?

"You think that makes it okay?" Apparently not with my father. "What you said before about starting with gang members, that made sense. Launching your hero career by attacking Lung was more like suicide."

"I get it, okay. Following the ABB was wrong. Sneaking up close to the meeting was wrong. Trying to save kids was wrong. Obviously you think trying to be a hero is wrong." I grabbed my old sneakers and started putting them on.

"What are you doing?" demanded my father. "This discussion is not over."

"It's over on my side, and it's time for my morning jog, because I'm in training to be a hero."

My father shook his head in denial. "Taylor, don't you understand? You could have died last night. Look, if you're dead set on this we can talk about the Wards, but you're simply too young."

I kept lacing up my shoes. Somehow my father was channeling the spirit of Winslow. When the other side has already made up its mind that you're wrong, there simply isn't any point in talking. Nor was I planning on joining the Wards. Armsmaster was just as good at not listening as my father.

"Just leave me alone. That's what you're good at." The venom in my words felt good when spoken, but left a rancid aftertaste.

"Taylor?" His shocked hangdog look was back. "Go jogging then, but this discussion isn't over."

"Thank you." I pushed past him and out my door, down the hall, and out of my house. I slammed the door behind me. Cliché, but it felt right.

I took off running, not jogging. Usually I paced myself to a steady jog, but I just had to get away. I ran full out, arms and legs pumping as fast as I could manage. The sun wasn't up yet and the light was poor, but «Combat Mapping» was quickly becoming second nature to me and there were enough bugs to map out the ground in front of me. I ran until my lungs burned, and I just couldn't breathe any longer. Only then did my crazed run falter into a jog and then a walk.

«A skill has been created through a special action.»
«A skill for running at full speed, [Sprint], has been created.»
«Sprint (Sustained) Lvl 1 Exp 0.0%»
«+5% increase to running speed.»
«Don't run until it hurts. Run until the pain stops.»

I laughed crazily at that and wiped the sweat and tears off my face. I wasn't particularly aware of when I'd started crying. Not until I'd left home, but sometime after during my wild run. I dismissed the window. So, I'd found a Mover power after all. «Sprinting» was a skill, but «Jogging» apparently wasn't. That didn't make sense, but James's power was bullshit. I'd have to tell him. He'd definitely want this one. It had obvious combat applications. If I ever got to see James again. My father would probably ground me until I was eighteen the way he was reacting.

What was I going to do? Dad wanted to force me into the Wards if I did anything at all, but he clearly didn't want me there either. Maybe I could cut him a deal. As long as he let me train with James, I'd postpone fighting crime. Since he didn't know about zombies, he couldn't forbid them. That might actually work. Having worked out a plan I felt better about returning home, once I finished my morning jog. Correction, morning sprints. Looked like I was going to be alternately sprinting and walking for the near future. It suddenly struck me that Sophia was a sprinter. Considering how fast skills leveled up, I'd be outrunning her in no time. On that happy thought I kicked it into gear and sprinted.

I usually jogged until I was tired, which worked out to be about an hour. Sprinting was different. I couldn't maintain a sprint for that long, so I'd sprint, jog, walk, and repeat. Compared to jogging sprinting was brutal. My legs, lungs and even arms ached after each sprint. I called it quits after thirty minutes when I finally levelled to «Sprint 2». I stretched and walked home feeling the pain. On the plus side I hadn't left my neighborhood, so my spiders were making real progress. I already had some skirt-nets and silk cords done.

My father was waiting for me in the living room when I got home. "Taylor, our conversation got a bit heated, but I want what's best for you."

"I guess." What he really meant was that he wanted what he thought was best for me. "I stink. I'm going to take a shower."

My father sighed. "I won't be here when you get out. I have to go to work. I used up all my sick days."

Was that supposed to be a guilt trip? I knew he'd used all his sick days and even taken unpaid leave taking care of me after the locker incident. "Okay. I can manage breakfast and get myself to school." Just like I do every day.

My father frowned. "We'll talk some more tonight. You'd better be here when I get home. We still have to talk about consequences as well as your crime fighting plans. I also want to meet this Beetle Knight. When can you make that happen?"

He wanted to meet James? That wasn't going to be fun. I suppose we could use an illusion barrier to smuggle him into my house, but it would be a challenge. I wasn't looking forward to them meeting, period. James had a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease even when he wasn't drugged. There was much more to him than met the eye, even without his powers, but he was bad at first impressions. The fork thing in a public restaurant was classic James. "I'll talk to him about it and let you know when."

"Okay. Good." He moved toward me hesitantly.

Was he going for a hug? No. I was sweaty and icky and not in a hugging state of mind. "I'm going to wash off then." I dodged my father and ran off to get clean.

A hot shower took care of the grungies and I was feeling much better. My mind was on my bugs and how I was going to get James to meet my father as I dressed. It came as quite a shock when my bra didn't fit right – I needed to let it out a bit. Once that registered I tossed my bra aside, spun around, and raced to my dresser mirror. Was it possible that James's bullshit powers had actually helped me develop? I could see some obvious changes. I had muscles and my breasts looked a bit fuller, but I wasn't sure if they were actually bigger. I tried various poses while staring at the girl in my mirror. I had shoulder and arm muscles. It wasn't a huge change, but enough for me to notice. I'd tried lifting weights to get in shape for heroing, but found it boring. I'd stuck with jogging which had done little for my upper body. Apparently hitting zombies with a bat was a good upper body workout. The effect of going from 9 STR to 16 was quite obvious to me. A flex of my arm showed visible biceps. My shoulders felt strong. After considered inspection I decided that I didn't really have larger breasts, but I'd built up my chest muscles underneath. Not quite as good as actual breast growth, but I'd take it! I didn't notice any real changes in my legs, but I was pretty sure I'd lost some pudge on my belly. Also a good thing.

While the improvements were most welcome, I wasn't going to stand around and admire my reflection all morning. As I got dressed I briefly considered picking out something to show off my changes, but I was heading into Winslow. Besides, I didn't really own clothes like that. Dad didn't buy me clothes any more. He just pushed money at me and told me to go shopping. He also apparently had no idea how much clothes cost for girls. So that meant I got most of my clothes on the discount rack or at thrift stores. Gram had given me a few nice things for Christmas, but they were for dressing up. No way would I wear them to Winslow and see them destroyed. So it was into my usual blue jeans, shirt and hoodie combination.

To celebrate my new muscles I cooked myself a hot breakfast of French toast and bacon. I would be burning those calories off. Plus, if I was hanging out with James, then I had to plan on eating a lot of rabbit food. In the process I learned the «French Toast» recipe and earned «Cooking 2». Dad left me a fresh pot of coffee which I pounced on despite not being that tired. It struck me as odd that I hadn't slept at all, but wasn't exhausted. Levelling up must have given me some kind of boost. A nap didn't sound like a bad idea. It had been an intense day, but I wasn't fighting off the urge to crawl into bed. In fact I was ahead of schedule and had a little time to kill before heading to Winslow.

I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs to the basement to check out how my spiders were getting along weaving replacement skirt nets and silk cords. Weaving silk cords was very easy. I just had multiple spiders weave thread while dancing around a central line like it was a maypole. I would need lots of silk cords to make a silken rope, but I had quite a bit of cord for testing. It was the thickness of fishing line, and I couldn't snap it with my hands. These cords would probably be enough to tie up normal criminals, but I wanted something that could hold a Legion Zombie or a Brute. When we'd first fought it, I'd been scared for my life. However, with lots of rope and some planning, we could take one down. Given that it dropped skill books that granted paranormal abilities, we probably would fight it again – someday.

I also wanted to clean up my costume. It had been damaged in the fight, but when I looked it over my armor wasn't damaged any longer. Every piece of my armor was clean and pristine. I couldn't smell sweat or smoke on my costume. What I smelled was more bullshit from James's power. Somehow his power had cleaned, repaired and restored my armor, but when? The only thing I could think of was when I was changing clothes. Somehow using the «Inventory» function to change had restored my armor. In some ways it was a tiny thing, but never having to do laundry again was a really sweet minor power.

On closer examination my armor hadn't been perfectly restored. Some of the chitin layering had fractured and broken where Lung had punched me in the belly. That wasn't unexpected. I had expected they would shatter under a hard enough blow, just like the ceramic plates in bullet proof vests. They'd done the job and softened the blow, but now they needed to be replaced. Fortunately my costume was designed with that in mind. My breastplate looked solid, but it was actually composed of multiple layers. I opened a seam for my bugs to crawl inside, clean out the broken places, and insert replacement chitin. It was curious that James's power had fixed most of the damage, but not that. Was it because the chitin was expected to shatter under heavy blows? Or was that just too much damage for James's power?

While I had my armor out, I decided to replenish my utility belt. I added epi-pens and glow sticks to replace the ones that I'd used. Hmm, I'd never even considered using my pepper spray or screamer on Lung. I might want to rethink those. If I wanted someone deaf and blind, it would be far easier to just put bugs in their eyes and ears. I would be better off with more silk cords and skirt-nets. I also found the cash that had dropped from Legion Zombie. Two hundred and ten dollars wasn't a huge amount of cash, but it would buy a lot of skill books. I didn't trust it in my backpack at Winslow, but I didn't have gym today so it should be safe in my pockets. There was also the dragon fang earring and the dragon scales. I had no clue what they did. I tried saying, "Observe," over and over, but never triggered the skill. I'd have to ask James about them later

While my bugs were busy, I played around with «Swarm Clone» trying to get an idea of what all I could do with the ability. My control wasn't that great. I could make pretty realistic humanoid figures as long as they stood still. It still didn't look like a person, but the clones looked like a person might be hiding under the screen of bugs. However, when I tried to make the swarms move, they became a lot less realistic. They didn't walk so much as flowed from one place to another moving in ways that real people couldn't. Still, under poor lighting conditions, they could be damned useful.

The popup notice that I'd leveled to «Swarm Clone 3» was quite welcome and also a reminder that I needed to get my ass to Winslow. Not that I felt that guilty. My bugs had replaced the damaged chitin in my armor and only needed to seal things up. Even better I'd leveled up «Cryptography», «Singing», and all the bug powers I practiced with the exception of «Clairsentience Blocking». Since that skill was at 90, I wasn't too surprised it was taking longer to level up. Unfortunately I had to put away my powers. Due to a certain trio and their hangers on I didn't dare open myself up to my powers even a crack at school. My emotions leaked out into my bugs far too easily, and without control I could easily go Carrie on Winslow.

I'd played with my armor and powers so long that I needed to jog to get to class on time. Usually jogging cleared my head, but with my destination being school it felt like each step I took added more and more weight to my shoulders. By the time Winslow came into sight I had slowed down to a walk, the walk of doom. I felt almost blind. I'd really come to rely on «Combat Mapping» over the past two days. Now there were people walking all around, and all I had to rely on my eyes and ears. I pulled my hoody down to hide my face and shuffled into the school. Actually, it wasn't really a shuffle. My feet were barely leaving the ground. I was doing crescent steps: weight on left leg, half-step with my right draw a crescent moon from inside to outside with my foot while lightly sliding over the floor. Then I centered my weight on my right leg and repeated the crescent moon slide with my left. It was an «Aikido» thing, keeping contact with the ground to make it harder to have my feet swept out from under me by any attackers. Since I couldn't use my bugs, I kept mumbling «Detect Enemies» over and over. I found no sign of the trio or any of their hanger's on, but I did get a sense that quite a few people were watching me. The pop-up announcing that I'd gained a level in «Detect Enemies» was no comfort to me.

I was relieved to make it to my homeroom without being pranked or taunted. I liked Computer Programming. Mrs. Knotts was manly enough in appearance to make me wonder if she was transgendered and had once been Mr. Knotts, but that didn't impact her ability to teach. What did affect her teaching was that three-quarters of the class (a) knew nothing about computers and (b) didn't really want to learn. She usually gave the more competent quarter of the class, which included me, an assignment to work through on her own while she spent most of her time spoon-feeding the rest of the class. It certainly helped that none of the terrible trio were in this class. Two of their groupies shared the class, but neither were in the advanced section. So I was mostly left alone.

Today started the same as it usually did. Mrs. Knotts offered me a tight-lipped smile as I slunk into class and took a seat. She made a few introductory comments to all of us before giving the advance group our assignment. There were data files stored on the network representing the sales volumes for a fictional company from different stores. We had to read the data from the files and report sums in a few different ways. Basically something that Microsoft Excel could do in seconds, but we had to write a program to do it. It was typical of the kind of in-class assignment she'd give us. What wasn't typical was the popup.

«New Quest Alert: Complete [Computer Programing] In-Class Assignment»
«Complete the Analyze Chain Store assignment before time runs out. 1:18:15 remaining»
«Reward: 50 XP, Increased Reputation with Winslow Staff, [Computer Programming] increase»
«Failure: Decreased Reputation with Winslow Staff, Taunting»
«Accept?»
«Yes» «No»

The fifty points of experience was a joke now, but the other rewards were nice. More importantly I was going to do the quest anyway, so why wouldn't I accept it? I pressed «Yes» and got to work.

It was easy. I normally completed my assignments in fifteen minutes, thirty tops, but this time I got it done in a little over five minutes and that included the agonizingly slow time it took my computer to boot up. Part of that was from having all the commands of BASIC memorized, but a larger part was now having a clue about how programs should be structured. Last week I probably would have would have individually coded out each step. With my new knowledge I pulled the data into an array, did a few row and column manipulations, and tacked on some output instructions. I saved my result on the class network where Mrs. Knott could look it over, and boom – done.

«Quest Completed!»
«You have gained 50XP»
«Your skill in [Computer Programming] has increased by 1.»
«Your skill in [Computer Programming] has increased by 1.»
«Your reputation with Winslow Staff has increased»

Nice. Two levels for five minutes of work. That had been too easy. That thought bounced around in my head. It really had been too easy. Granted that I hadn't memorized a book on computer programming before, but I still could have done the assignment in fifteen minutes tops. However, the way I would have done the assignment would have been awful. I would have done multiple extra steps and just kludged everything to get a result. I'd had no clue about how to structure a program, or manipulate arrays efficiently and that little exercise wouldn't have taught me anything. I glanced over to Mrs. Knott who was still lecturing the rest of the class. I could hear the frustration in her voice and see the apathy in the other students. They were taking all her time and attention. It suddenly struck me that I wasn't being taught in this class at all. I was being babysat. I was given a short little assignment every day, to keep my attention, the way some of my babysitters would hand out coloring books. Then as a reward I was allowed to surf the net. I'd never really learned anything about programming in this class. For a moment I felt betrayed by Mrs. Knott. She was supposed to teach. However, hearing her jump onto Jesus to wake up... Well, I couldn't really blame her. Anything she taught me would leave most of the class behind, and clearly they were taking all her time.

With a sigh I turned to the internet. If this was my bribe for not getting taught, then I may as well enjoy it. Besides, I did have things to research. When I logged in I found two messages waiting for me.

Private message from MissMilitia
Lady Bug,
I just wanted to let you know again that bringing in Lung was an impressive achievement for any hero, doubly so on your first night. I wanted to be sure you had my contact information. I hope that we can set up a meeting between you and the Wards soon. Beetle Knight would be welcome to join.
You did good,
Miss Militia

Well now. I felt a warm glow settle over me. Someone at least appreciated me, and she had invited Beetle Knight to come along. That was interesting given that Armsmaster was her boss. The other message was interesting as well.

Private message from AllSeeingEye
Subject: Dragonslaying
Sorry he got back up. Didn't see that coming. Owe you two now. Would like to repay the favors.
Meet?
Tt

So the villainous thinker wanted a meet. If I did meet Tattletale, I'd bring James along and that could be dangerous. Tattletale obviously had some kind of thinker power, and James's powers were better kept secret. On the other hand, having a Thinker owe us some favors could be really good. Depending on how she intended to repay us. Tattletale had claimed to be gray. How gray was she? I had somehow missed the Undersiders when researching the cape scene in Brockton Bay. I obviously needed to change that.

It wasn't too hard to find a wiki entry for the Undersiders. Grue had a history of petty crimes and the power of darkness generation. Tattletale was a non-entity. All I found on her was a stub with her name on it and an invitation to add details. Regent had even less information. He didn't even have a wiki page. That left Bitch, but I found her information filed under Hellhound. There was a lot of information on her. Real name Rachel Lindt, known to be hostile, antisocial and violent. Do not approach or provoke. Leave the area and report to the authorities. Yikes. There was a wealth of background on her. Her powers manifested at fourteen when she destroyed her foster home and injured her foster mother and two other foster kids. Since then she'd fought her way across four states with numerous skirmishes with authorities. She had the power to empower dogs turning them into the creatures that I'd met on the rooftops. She was wanted for a number of crimes, but the worst was only aggravated assault with a paranormal power. Apparently Rachel was a bit of a darker gray than the other three. Although Grue was called an enforcer. If that meant what I thought it did, he'd done things like break people's knees for loan sharks. All in all the Undersiders were into corporate theft, the largest of which was hitting Ruby Dreams, which explained why Lung had been after them.

Frustrated by the lack of details I turned to Lung's entry and found it was going crazy. Lung had been captured by Armsmaster. Lung had been taken down by Empire Eighty-Eight. Lung had been captured by three unknown capes. Sorting things through by what was trending I found links to videos. I wasn't surprised that they existed, because too many windows had been lit up, but I was curious what they showed. The first few that I clicked on showed very little. Just three blurry figures fighting. The only way that I could identify Lung was that he was the one on fire. However, there was another one that that was linked to Channel 7 news official site. It had been digitally enhanced and was much clearer. Lung was easy to make out as was the fact that he was fighting someone in golden armor and a person dressed in dark colors with a bug helmet. The video was still poor quality and I wasn't at all impressed with the names we'd been dubbed with. I was being called Golden Knight and James was being called Mantis, because they were bugs with big heads. Our brief meeting with Tattletale had been captured, but she barely showed at all, so she was being billed as Mysterious Stranger. Yet for some reason, despite having a blurry image of Tattletale, they hadn't caught Armsmaster shooting James on video. Instead they just noted his collapse, which was presumed to be from lingering injuries.

I was so frustrated that I was ready to post the truth on the boards. I only held back because PHO forums are full of bullshit, and no one would believe me. In fact when I searched for 'Lady Bug' I found a post by Jo Brister, my number one fan, who stated my name was Lady Bug and my partner was Beetle Knight, but had been promptly disbelieved. Should I start my own wiki page instead? Why exactly should I care? This would sort itself out once the PRT went public that Lady Bug and Beetle Knight took down Lung. I blamed Armsmaster that nothing had been said yet. I spent the rest of my time studying up on Bakuda and Oni Lee instead. They still sounded like a scary power synergy that I did not want to face.

Because I took the time to make sure I was properly logged out when the bell rang, I arrived at World Issues just before the bell rang. My usual seat: front row, far right, by the door had been sabotaged. There was a puddle of orange juice in the seat. The titters from Madison's direction made it clear who was responsible. I ignored her and took a seat a few seats down just before Mr. Gladly entered. Because he was both short and young, he could almost pass as a student instead of a teacher. After spending the usual few minutes trying to settle the class down, Mr. Gladly ordered us to break up into groups of four and to share our homework in small groups to be presented orally at the end of class.

The heavy emphasis on group work was one of many reasons that Mr. Gladly was my least favorite teacher. What happened next was that everyone rushed to sit with their friends and not group with me. As usual I was stuck in a group with Sparky, a long haired drummer out of touch with reality and perpetually stoned, and Greg Veeder. Greg at least had brains. He just didn't know how to use them. He was like a more pathetic version of James before James had powers. No, it wasn't fair to James to compare him to Greg. Even when James had been high on sandman, he'd still been better than Greg. Stoned James might even have been funny if Armsmaster hadn't been a dick about the whole situation.

Sparky had nothing to contribute or share but drool. Greg just wanted to talk about some game called Space Opera that he'd spent all weekend playing. I'd probably blow his little mind if I told him that I'd spent all weekend being an actual game character. So that left it to me to do the job – another reason that I hated group work. Fortunately, I'd actually done a good bit of work on Friday night, so I had a well-developed list of ideas on the topic of how capes had changed our world. Unfortunately, that's when Mr. Gladly noticed that Madison's group had five people and we only had three. Julia was forced to come join our group. My list of ideas went from me, to Greg, to Julia, to Madison. As quickly as that my hard work had been appropriated, and Madison would be claiming the credit.

Why exactly did I put up with this shit? For a moment I toyed with the idea of getting up and ripping my paper out of Madison's hands. However, I'd tried protesting similar situations in Mr. Gladly's class before. Madison, and all four of her friends which included Julia in my group would back up Madison. Greg would say nothing, and I doubted Sparky even had a clue. Since every member of the trio had turned in homework in my handwriting in the past without getting in trouble for it, today wouldn't be any different. At that point I just gave up on World Issues for the day. What was the point?

I had a sudden epiphany as I sat there. Why was I even bothering to go to school? What did I really learn at Winslow? I was supposed to be learning Computer Programming, World Issues, Art, Geometry, Biology, PE, and English. I had powers. I was going to be a cape. Would any of those courses make me a better hero? I already knew more about English than my teacher. I been ahead of the curve in Computer Programming before I'd picked up the skill, and Mrs. Knott wasn't teaching me anything. What was the point in sitting in Biology class when I could learn «Anatomy 25» by memorizing Gray's Anatomy? I bet I could find similar books that would make Geometry, Art and World Issues irrelevant. As for PE, it was a joke compared to what I'd learned using James's power. Maybe I should just memorize the right books, drop out, and get my GED. That would give me more time to devote to training. On one hand, dropping out of high school was crazy, but James's power was full-on bullshit when it came to training. Thinking about it rationally, what good was high school doing me? Nobody wanted me to be here. I didn't want to be here. What I was learning here would not help me with a career as a cape. Time in class could be better spent fighting zombies. Every moment in Winslow was time that I wasn't training up all my bug powers.

The rest of the class just further bore out what a waste of time Winslow was. I wrote out my ideas that Madison had stolen, but Mr. Gladly chose Greg to be the speaker for our group, and he botched it. Mr. Gladly didn't even let him finish talking. Madison spoke for her group, delivered my ideas poorly, and got second place overall. By the end of class I was seriously thinking about tracking down James at lunch and just cutting for the day. We needed to talk, and maybe he could open up a zombie instance at Winslow. Smashing zombies inside Winslow high would be a great stress reliever.

Mr. Gladly approached me at the end of class as everyone gathered their things. Quietly he said, "I'd like you to stick around for a few minutes, please."

Really? I stared at him a moment wondering what this was about. Then I gave him a shrug and a nod. I watched and waited while he spoke to the winning team about how he'd give them some vending machine goodies.

When it was just me and Mr. Gladly, he cleared his throat. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"I never said you were." He wasn't stupid, but what did you call a grown man who was still trying to score points with the 'cool' high school kids? Sad? No. Useless? No. Pathetic! That was the word for it.

"I have some idea of what goes on in my classroom. I don't know exactly who, but I know some people are giving you a pretty hard time?"

"Really? What do you know? Did you know that someone poured orange juice in my usual seat?"

"Yes, that's partly why I brought this up."

"Uh-huh." And he just now noticed? "And did you notice that Madison stole my homework and presented it as her group's work today."

"Cheating is a very serious accusation Taylor. Madison is one of my better students." He tried to fix me with a stern glare.

After the weekend that I had I wasn't' getting stared down by a teacher who was shorter than me. "Really? What about shutting me in locker full of toxic waste?" I gave him my «Intimidate» glare in return.

"There was never any proof who put you in there."

I snorted. "So, Madison cheated today. She stole my homework. Are you going to do anything about it?"

He frowned. "It was an oral report. Will anyone in your group back you up?"

"No. Sparky is on drugs. Greg has no spine, and Julia is the one who stole my homework and gave it to Madison. So ball back in your court, teach. What are you going to do?"

"I can't do much without proof." He dramatically wrung his hands together. "We could fill out a report in the office, try to document a pattern of behavior."

"You want proof. I spent a week in the hospital. I say that Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements put me there, but hey, maybe the magical faeries did it."

He looked down at his feet and didn't say a damn word.

"Yeah, nice talk." I turned and walked away. "Loser." I made sure to say it loud enough that he heard me.

"Taylor, we can make a report. It might not sound like much, but it's a starting point."

That wasn't a starting point. That was shooting myself in the foot. I walked out and right into Emma, Madison, Sophia and a half dozen other girls waiting for me.

"She's a nobody. Nobody wants her. Nobody likes her. She should just go away." said Julia

"She's pathetic," growled Sophia. She spoke like some kind of jungle cat, hungry and ready to pounce. "She doesn't even bother to come to class any more. We had a major project in Art last Friday worth a third of our grade and she no-showed."

"If she's not even going to try, she might as well lay down and die. Why bother coming to school?"

"She makes me want to hurl just to look at her."

Honestly I partly agreed. Why did I keep coming back for this? If that talk with Gladly had proved anything, it had proved that speaking up was futile. Certainly there was no use trying to get a word in edgewise here. Each cutting remark was sharper than the next, but they carefully avoiding mentioning any names – plausible deniability coupled with ignoring my presence. I wanted to make a break for it and just go, but Emma, Madison and Sophia backed me into a corner with the other girls backing them up. The only way I was getting past would be to fight my way past. As I thought about doing that I realized that my bugs were no longer the only thing I had to keep walled off at Winslow. My newly acquired «Aikido» skill offered all sorts of suggestions for throwing some of the girls into the others. I found myself sliding my feet to right angles for better stability and bending my knees a little to center my weight. I also shrugged off my backpack. It would only impede me in a fight. They started piling insults one on top of the other: I was ugly, I stank, I was the school slut, any guy would puke before they touched me. Honestly the things they said even contradicted one another, but they also built on each other suffocating me.

Each little remark took a bit felt like I was being punched. My «Aikido» skill urged me to throw them about like a cluster of bowling pins – starting by tossing one of them right at Sophia. She was the most dangerous one of the lot. In fact I found myself watching the way she stood, aggressive and poised. Unlike the others who were mocking me gleefully, I saw pure malice when I met her gaze. I dropped my gaze to her chin. She really didn't like it when I made eye contact with her. It made her even more angry than usual, but I felt confident that I could take all the girls around me except possibly her with just «Aikido» if I just let myself go. Not that would help me. I knew what would happen. They would all claim that I attacked them for no reason.

No more than a yard behind Emma, I saw Mr. Gladly leave his classroom. The group character assassination didn't even let up. They continued without stopping as he tucked a stack of folders under his arm, found his keys and locked up.

"If I were her, I'd kill myself," one of the girls announced.

"Yeah, she should just drink a glass of drain cleaner."

Mr. Gladly met my gaze with a sad look, and turned and walked away. Not five minutes ago he'd been trying to help. Now, he just turned his back on me. I suppose the evidence of his own eyes and ears just wasn't proof enough. The verbal assault unabated. I had to wonder if Mr. Gladly's offer had ever been sincere. Had he just wanted to know what kids I would name? I felt my fists clench. I wanted to hit them, but I knew what had happened to James. Madison broke his fucking collarbone and she only got a week suspension. If I started something here it would be my word versus all of theirs. Even worse, I might just win and out myself as a cape in the process. The kind of cape who attacks high school kids, or in other words, a villain.

"And she smells like garbage," added one girl lamely.

They were winding down. I started to hope that it would soon be over, but Emma suddenly acted like she'd just spotted me, like she'd been unaware that I was standing there until that moment. She walked toward me with a deliberate stride and the other hyenas made a path for the alpha bitch. "What's the matter Taylor? You look upset?" Her words were too kind, faking concern but she couldn't get it right. Malice just oozed out of her.

Emma – I didn't want to punch her or throw her. I just wanted to slap the ever-living shit out of her, and eight witnesses would all accuse me. The words 'Fuck off and die' were on the tip of my tongue.

However, before I could speak, Emma continued, "So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?"

I think I'd rather she'd hit me. Those words yanked the rug out from under me. A confidence that I'd once shared with my best friend forever in the wake of my mother's death. It was my mother's flute and death all over again. The pain of betrayal cut through all my emotional armor and tears spilled from my eyes. I felt the buzz of thousands of insects, cockroaches, ants, flies, and more as they resonated with my hurt.

Emma smiled and it was pure evil, what other kind of smile could it be that reveled in the pain caused by betrayal?

"Boo-hoo-hoo, baby's crying!" sang Madison.

I closed my eyes and tried to hold back, not my tears, but the angry voices of millions upon millions of bugs within my range. My walls would come down so easily if I let them. Part of me wanted to let go, call forth my minions and let them feed, but I was better than that. No matter how much they richly deserved it.