It's raining.

And danggit, I'm bored.

I finished all of my homework Sunday and today is Wednesday. Vega already went back to school so hanging out with someone isn't exactly an option. Unless I want to wreck something with those merry band of misfits, though I highly doubt I'll be hanging around them any time soon due to the recent…changes…to my body.

"Jade, you need to go to the store. There's a list on the counter." My dad says, staring at me warily for a moment before leaving my room. I hear the faint sound of a door shutting and then a car coming to life.

At least I have something to do.

I grab a hoodie and walk there. It's a short ways a way and I don't mind getting wet. I also like hearing the sound rain makes when it hits the pavement. The sound brings me comfort. I have no deeper meaning to listening to the rain, it's simple.

Surprisingly enough find everything I need quickly and am in the check out line in no time. A girl named Kennedy checks out my bags while I, not so subtly, stare at her chest. I mean, you can't blame me either. Her chest is, I find it very hard to admit this, better than mine and she's trying to draw attention to it. Kennedy's black shirt is low cut and her lace bra peeks through the top of it, and her boobs are pressed so high up I think they're going to fall out. She brings me out of my perving by laughing.

"Having fun there?" I blush having been caught, "Also, that'll be fifteen dollars."

After I hand her a twenty I look away not being able to look her in the face. Geez, she probably thinks I'm creepy. This is so embarrassing.

A five-dollar bill is shoved in my face along with…a phone number? I look up at her, confused, but pocket the money and number. I could rip the number up later. I'm never going to call her because for Pete's sake I'm not gay or into hook-ups. And it's her fault she thinks I'm into her because I was looking at her chest. She had it on display.

"You don't look to bad yourself," She tells me with an award-winning smile. I smile back awkwardly, a little forced. I thank her for ringing me up and leave. The rain is starting to let up and the sky looks brighter, to my dismay. It needs to rain in Cali more. I start my walk home.

"—Help, help me!" A shrill voice shrieks from my left. I turn in that direction and start to walk. I've watched murder stories in which the victim asks for help but bystanders never do and I won't let that be the case this time. "Please!" They yell again, louder. I'm close enough to them now whereas I can hear a second voice, one much deeper.

"Shut up or I'll break your arm, woman. Now give me your purse." The second person identifies as male the second I round a corner and find myself in an alleyway with an older woman and a guy in a hoodie. The boy has the woman cornered and shut off from the world, pressed into the cool wet bricks of the alley. The woman whimpers and complies. Taking from the elderly? What a douchebag.

"Hey," I say, my voice coming off strong, "Leave her alone and give her back her purse."

The robber freezes and for a second the only sound accompanying me is the familiar pitter-patter in the background. Then he slowly turns around and sizes me up.

"And if I don't?" He says, trying to sound menacing but in reality he sounded stupid. He stands about a foot away from me. "What are ya gonna do?"

"This." I say, not really sure of what this really was. I take a stance I learned from karate when I was ten that I hope will make him nervous. It doesn't. He bursts out laughing at my ridiculous pose. I don't remember the rest of the move that actually hurts the person, so I'm hopeless from here. His laughter is obnoxious and loud and he keeps snorting.

"Is that...is that what you've got? Gosh, that is ridiculous. Geez, women like you are so annoying. Always butting into things and not being able to do jack. You can't defend this old hag back here any better than you can protect yourself. Say, I could even tear your little shirt off, stick my hand down your pants and—"

Smack!

The boy grips the side of his face where my hand had struck him, dropping the purse. I'm pissed. How dare he say all that utter bull to my face? Women like me? I'll show him what women like me are capable of.

I pull my hand back and punch him in the jaw before he has time to react. I push his chest and he stumbles back, legs just wide enough for me to kick through. He groans, clutching his balls. I grab his shoulders and shove my knee right into his nose, which has now started to bleed beautifully.

I get a handful of his shirt and shove him up against the wall, getting comfortable right in his face.

"How does it feel to get your butt kicked by women like me in under a minute, huh?" I sneer, letting spit fly into his face. I shake him. "Huh?" He doesn't answer.

"And if I ever hear you talking about raping someone I will kill you. And don't think I'm not capable of finding you because you must really must underestimate my hunting skills." I shake him again. "God doesn't like you, boy."

He nods in understanding and I loosen my grip. He takes this as a sign to leave but obviously he's mistaken with thinking I'd let his little demon butt back on the streets.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask, but it's more of a statement. He shakes his head again, not answering. He takes a step back trying to get closer to the old woman who's just watching me in wonder.

"Did you really think I'd let you go? Get away so you could do this again?" I take one step closer and he takes a step back, eyes not trained on me but lower. I can hear a police siren off in the distance and hopefully someone heard us and is coming here. He starts to cry, tears slipping down his face silently and one by one.

"Yeah, you better cry." I hiss. My attention goes to the elderly lady, and I search for any sign of damage this sicko could've done to her. She looks clean. Her eyes are too trained on me but very low. I look down, puzzled by what about me could be gaining their attention.

Holy shit. My hand—my hand is on fire and it's not being put out by the light rain and I have no idea where this came from. Holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap. And here comes my 87,000 mental breakdown in the past month.

Could this be a new addition to your freak body? First moving small objects with your mind, now shooting fire out of your hands?

Now, based on my previous attitude you'd think I'd play this off coolly and totally smoke the guy with my fire hands.

Yeah, no. I collect my bags with the hand not on fire and run off the scene like a little wuss.


It was a long day at school and Tori Vega is exhausted. She has two projects and an essay due on Friday and she needs to get started on them now or else they'll be turned in half done. On top of that, she has to write a song for Cat's grandmother's birthday and Sikowitz was giving her a hard time today. With a sigh, she sits down on the couch and rubs her temples. Life at a performing arts school is stressful.

Tori needs juice.

Just then, her father comes down the stairs in his police uniform. This is strange because he is usually off duty by two. He stops by the kitchen to grab his cop car keys.

"Hey, Dad, can you pour me some juice?" Tori asks, laziness getting the best of her. The kitchen is so far away and she's so tired. She doesn't want to do anything. She could copy off Andre in the morning for her other classes; she doesn't have to be perfect all the time.

"Sorry, Tor, I'm in a rush," Her dad says even though he's only walking to the front door, "They need more officers down at the station. Can't tell you why though, they didn't even tell me. Confidential, I guess." He winks at her and then opens the door, leaving Tori in a quiet house. Trina went over to a friend's house and Tori barely knew where her mom went to anymore.

Tori turned on the TV. The Latina didn't have a specific channel in mind and did nothing as the newscaster spoke from the TV.

"—Most recently, an elderly woman was almost robbed of her purse at a supermarket in L.A but the robber was stopped by a bystander with peculiar abilities. We were able to get the elderly woman, whose name she doesn't want to be revealed, to tell us the story."

The TV flashes back to a point obviously earlier in the day, because in the background of the woman with graying hair is a falling rain and it wasn't raining now. The woman on screen, which Tori thinks looks like a Grace so in her head names her Grace, looks around confusedly and then back to the camera.

"…We're rolling." Says a camera awkwardly. The camera shakes. "You can start."

"Well, let's see deary," Grace licks her lips, "I was all done getting my groceries and was starting my walk home—my grandson is learning how to drive in my car, you see." Grace stops to think about what happens next, an adorable crease etched into her forehead, "And this boy pops out of me! I didn't even know where he came from. Anyway, he told me to give him my belongings so I yelled for help. Then he told me to be quiet or else he'd hurt me so I did and gave him my stuff, even though in my purse were the ashes of my husband, Robert. I thought I'd lost him forever when out of nowhere someone comes out and tells the boy to give me back my purse. They started fighting and this mystery gal kicks the petunias out of the robber. And then she runs off without me getting to give her proper thanks. Luckily someone saw the whole thing take place and call the cops, too!" Grace smiles smugly at the camera. The crew asks if she'll be pressing charges and she laughs.

"I don't need to press charges, the boy's parents are pro'lly gonna be hard enough on 'm. They should though. He's a rude little son of a gun."

"The woman also claimed that the mysterious bystander could shoot fire from their hand." The newscaster chuckled, shaking his head, "Bless her robber, strangely, was also able to talk to us before being put in the police car."

Tori's TV switches from the newscaster to a boy who looks like he's in his teens and could've been fairly cute if it wasn't for the gore that is his face. A bruise is forming on his cheek and chin and his nose is still bleeding. He has messy brown hair and a button nose and fair lips. His brown eyes are wild and searching for an innocent face to trick. His eyebrows turn up as if he's surprised he's being arrested. There's dry blood crusted on his lip which he feverishly licks at. His name is revealed to be Russell Steel.

"I didn't know ashes were in there," Russell reasons, "I was only hoping for a hundred bucks or something, ya know? Money to use for my ma and pa's anniversary." Tori wouldn't be surprised if he is lying and would actually use the money for his drug addiction. The news crew asks about the savior of the day, aka the girl who kicked his butt.

Tori sat forward, slightly curious.

"Hotter than heck, she is." The robber spits to the camera, personality changing from a trickster young man to something much darker. His eyes look dead and heavy now. "If she is the hero, I don't want to see the villain."


And this is where the story starts to roll. I didn't read through this so sorry for any errors!

Review please, I love you all!