Thanks for all your patience you guys! The next chapters will come along within a week or so, I promise. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.

Chapter Nine- Secrets. Always Secrets.

Five minutes must have passed before my father woke up. He stretched, sighing before he finally noticed me.

"Oh hello, Annie. How long have you been home?"

"Only a few minutes."

"Something wrong?" he asked me, seeing the gloomy look on my face which I evidently failed at hiding.

"No," I said as lightly as I could. "Just wanted to hang out with you, is all."

He chuckled softly, glancing down at the newspaper that lay on his lap. "Oh, look at this," he sighed disapprovingly. "Arthur Rennington's tried to break out of Maxville's Correctional Facility for Super Villains again."

"Arthur Rennington?"

"You'd know him as Overlord."

"Egotistical maniac with a penchant for blowing things up?" I recalled tentatively.

"That's the one. You'd think he'd call it quits after the fourteenth attempt. His powers don't work in there in any case."

"They have a power neutralizing system, like in detention?" I guessed.

"You're close, but not exactly. See, each prisoner has to wear a special steel wristband which neutralizes his or her powers. That way, anyone else with super abilities, for example the special guards, can subdue them effectively if needed."

"I see," I murmured. There was something pulling at the back of my mind, but I didn't say anything else for a while.

"What are you thinking about?" Dad asked me.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." I paused for a few moments. Then I asked, "Dad, are those wristbands all that keep them in control? I mean, other than the obvious prison cells."

"I wouldn't call them prison cells," he said, frowning. "They're actually quite comfortable modern spaces. A bit too good for the likes of some of them, if you ask me," he muttered darkly, shaking his head. "But no, some of them need a little more attention than others. The Hacker for instance, can't exactly have computer rights like some of his fellow inmates, can he?"

I laughed. "I guess not. And what else?"

"What do you mean?" he asked me, turning to look at me seriously.

"What else is done to keep them locked up?"

A crease formed in my father's brow. "Why all these questions, Annie?"

I wasn't sure. Somewhere there was a reason, but I couldn't grasp it. I bit my lip.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm going to go see what Mom's making for dinner."

I got up and went into the kitchen, forcing my mind to dwell on the present, like the smell of my mother's tuna casserole and how I was going to tackle my homework.

xxxxxxx

I listened absently to my mother telling my father about the new thyme plant she'd gotten from Mrs. Lieson, our neighbor. My father in turn expressed his enthusiasm over the recent curb in bank robberies in the city. I drifted in and out of the conversation until my mother's voice brought me back:

"Anna, honey? Is the casserole all right? You've barely touched it."

I immediately began forking food into my mouth, trying to smile as I did so. "No, it's great," I managed in between bites, nearly choking as I did so.

My parents looked at me oddly. It was time to leave- they tended to ask a lot of questions if I wasn't acting as I should.

"Um, could I be excused? I have to get started on my homework."

My parents just nodded, looking at me carefully. I tried not to jump out of my seat and race to my room. Once I was there, I reluctantly pulled out my homework from my book bag, The Physics of Super Abilities being the farthest thing from my mind.

As I doodled absently in the corners of my textbook, I kept thinking about Lisa and what she'd said. I replayed it over and over in my head, repeating her words so many times they ceased to sound like English. After a while, I sighed hopelessly and glanced down at the page.

In the top left corner of my textbook, I surveyed my handiwork. In a large spidery scrawl, was 'B3776'.

I remembered it- it was what I'd seen on Paul's blueprints. Struck with a new thought, I dashed over to my computer and did a search: B3776.

Nothing of any real importance turned up, nothing that would help. I huffed in frustration.

"You're perfectly useless, Lisa Kline," I muttered, finally shoving my half-finished homework back into my bag. I'd do the rest of it in the morning.

xxxxx

I woke up early, shivering. Looking out my window, I saw the sky was a steely gray color which made it seem even colder. Groaning loudly just because I felt like it, I snatched up my towel and had a long hot shower.

When I went into the kitchen my mom was there, having coffee.

"You're up early," she commented, as she stirred the contents of her cup.

"I couldn't get back to sleep," I explained, pulling out a box of sugary cereal from the cupboard.

"Hmm, trouble sleeping. That's not a good sign."

I didn't look at her, but I knew she had her eyes on me. "It's nothing."

My mother let several long seconds pass by before she ventured, "I've noticed Paul hasn't been around lately. And you don't visit him."

"We've been busy," I said shortly, then changed the subject. "Can you get more Sugar Blasts today? We're out," I added, pouring the last of the cereal into my bowl.

My mother nodded, but was not going to be sidetracked. "Have you two been fighting?"

"No! I mean…it's just- it's nothing, okay? Paul's just having a little snit; you know how he gets sometimes."

"I do know. But I've never seen him quite like this."

I stopped chewing. "Like what?"

"I saw Paul yesterday. In the library, when I went to return some books that your father checked out. He was in the microfilm section, looking up old newspapers I guess. He didn't see me. I went to say over to say hi, but there was this look on his face that…well I just stopped. I stopped and went the other way."

My mother's face had a faraway look, as if she were reliving an unpleasant memory. I reached out and took her hand.

"He's going to be fine," I told her.

She looked at me then and her expression softened. She smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes which surprised me.

"I know I can't be like other mothers. I can't always say that I know what you're going through, that I've been there myself when I was your age. I'm not like your father and Paul. But I'd like to think that you would trust me with anything, anything at all. You do know that you can talk to me, don't you?"

I looked at her wistfully. At that moment I longed to tell her everything- the blueprints, all my suspicions about Paul, what Lisa had said, Paul's behavior, and everything else. But the words stuck in my throat. What could my mother do that would help? How could she really understand what Paul was going through? She was right. As much as I loved her, the sad fact was that she could never be a full part of Paul's, Dad's and my world.

"I know," I said at last. "I know that." I went back to my cereal.

Mom looked slightly disappointed at these words but she nodded. "You're right. He'll be okay. He always is in the end."

I looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

My mother glanced at me and a flicker of remorse flashed in her eyes. She tried to make her expression light, happy. "I'm just saying that Paul is resilient. He'll get over it."

I had a feeling that wasn't what she meant. But I kept quiet and finished my breakfast. When I went upstairs to put on my coat and get my book bag, I had a strange new feeling. Mom wasn't telling me something. Paul too, had his secrets. So did I. It was as if I was being barred from all sides, including my own.

xxxxxx

I ran into Warren on the steps of Sky High. He looked perfectly miserable in the chilly weather; his trademark leather jacket zipped right up to his chin. His hands and arms were aflame and I stood closer, enjoying the warmth. I tried not to look too obvious about it, but it was cold. It took all my willpower not to stick out my hands as if he were a fireplace. That would have been beyond rude.

But Warren paid no notice. He was frowning darkly at Andrew Waterton, a tall gangly boy who could control the weather. He shuffled away after a while, looking very uncomfortable beneath Warren's stare.

"You know he's not allowed to." I told him, with a hint of regret in my voice. "I saw the paper today- the forecast said chilly, with scattered showers."

"He could if he wanted to," Warren answered stubbornly. But he sighed and finally looked at me. "So how was it?"

I knew he was talking about yesterday's meeting, but I didn't feel like getting into it. "Nondescript," I said simply and he didn't press the matter. "You sure you won't come to this one?" I asked after a while.

Warren immediately looked away with a scoff, obviously remembering what happened at the last meeting he attended. He didn't bother to answer.

"Fine. See you in class," I said in a dry voice as I walked away.

xxxxxx

Paul was sitting next to Jana in Hero History and they wouldn't shut up for the entire class. Mr. Mnemonic repeatedly asked them to be quiet and when that didn't work, he kept calling on them to answer questions, which they always answered correctly. Finally he asked them to go to Principal Powers' office.

I watched them as they walked out of the classroom, remembering the time when I was in Jana's place. Were we really that oblivious in class? I felt embarrassed at the thought.

I turned around to see Warren. He gave me a deliberately pointed look almost as if he knew what I was thinking. I turned back around, feeling uncomfortable.

After class was over I went up to Mr. Mnemonic's desk to hand in my homework. When I got back to my desk and started packing up my stuff, one of the kids accidentally bumped into me. My bag fell- books, paper and stationery scattered all over the floor.

"Gosh, thanks a lot!" I snapped angrily at the boy, who didn't even look back, much less offer to help. Muttering under my breath, I began to pick up my things.

"Need a hand?"

I glanced up briefly at Warren who didn't wait for a reply, but began helping me gather my books.

"Thanks," I murmured, trying to reach a pen that had gone under a chair. Becoming impatient after a second, I finally powered up, using my light force to draw it out into the open. Once I got it, I looked up.

Warren was staring at something in my Hero History textbook which had fallen open. His face grew curious, surprised and then very angry.

"What's wrong?" I said, alarmed.

He snatched up my textbook and pointed roughly at one of the pages. "You think this is funny, Arrian?!"

At first I didn't know what he could have possibly found in my textbook that was so infuriating. I stupidly scanned the notes on the Evolution of the Hero's Secret Headquarters for some seconds, looking to find what could have offended him. Finally, my eyes caught the top left corner of the book.

It was the strange code I'd doodled the night before. What was wrong with that?

"What? I don't understand-"

"I thought you were okay," he muttered in a soft but furious tone, shaking his head. "I should have known better." With that, he tossed my textbook back on the floor, stood up and stormed off.

"Warren-!" I called out after him.

But he was gone. A few moments went by as I tried to decipher what had just happened. Finally, I gave up and gathered my things quickly so I wouldn't be late for the next class.

Is everyone around me losing their minds? I wondered, making my way to Concepts of Super Physics. I tried to figure out what could have upset Warren so much about what I'd written. What was so special about it?

xxxx

I didn't speak to anyone else until school was over. Paul refused to talk to me and now so was Warren for some inexplicable reason. I hadn't realized until it happened that Warren was my last remaining connection to something that vaguely resembled a social life at Sky High. Now I felt more isolated than ever.

The last meeting before the presentation the following day was again uneventful and somber. We ran through it twice without a hitch. Skipping over Warren's part made the practice session end earlier than scheduled. When we were finished Paul and Jana stood around, looking at me with sullen expectancy.

"That's it," I said, folding my arms and staring at my sneakers. "We're done. Don't be late tomorrow."

They both picked up their things to leave. At the door Paul turned to me, a strange indecisive expression on his face. He looked as if there was something he really wanted to tell me, but he couldn't get the words out.

"What? What is it Paul?" I asked gently, encouragingly.

He gazed at me with something like his former easygoing affection. But it only lasted a moment. The deep scowl returned and he left, slamming the door behind him. I stared at the door, suddenly wanting to cry.

But I forced myself not to. Sniffling hard and blinking away the tears before they could fall, I put away the projector, gathered my notes and was on the bus for home within five minutes.

Waking up the next morning, I remembered dreaming something about black water and papers scrawled with red ink. It was strangely disturbing, but I made myself forget about it. I had to get through today.