Chapter 2: Unexpected

Kaitlyn's POV

"Well done in being made a hero, Kait," Layla congratulates me at lunch. "You so deserve it; your power is awesome."

I smile at her sheepishly. "Thanks." I'm about to say more about how proud I feel despite how I know that would make me look, but then I realise that that may be a little insensitive around a group of sidekicks. Especially Zach, who seems to be taking the decision the worst.

"That's not cool. I'm telling you Boomer's gonna regret making me a sidekick. Someday, it'll be dark, he'll be all alone walking to his car, he'll drop his keys, and I won't glow to help him find them." Case in point.

"You got a problem with me?" a familiar voice demands.

All of us turn to see Coach Boomer standing up from the nearest table. Well, it certainly looks like him. But I find it odd that a teacher would be eating in the cafeteria with the students; even if he got his lunch from here, wouldn't he take it to the staff room?

But Zach is too terrified to see the abnormality of the situation. "N-no," he stutters.

"No, what?"

"No, sir. No, sir. No, sir."

Suddenly 'Coach Boomer' sprouts equally familiar ginger curly hair, and the Doppelganger kid from Power Placement is suddenly smirking at Zach.

"Just messin' with ya, sidekick," he says.

I thought there was something wrong with this picture. I'll get him back in hero class somehow.

"You're not supposed to use your powers outside of the school gym!" Ethan recites as the guy pats Zach on the arm and walks away snickering.

Gesturing with my head, I pull them both back along with us. Once we've chosen a table to sit at, Will glances nervously over his shoulder.

"Okay," he begins. "Am I crazy, or is that guy really looking at me?"

We all look behind him to test his theory. The 'guy' isn't hard to spot; he is definitely glaring in Will's direction. His skin is lightly tanned, probably some exotic blood in him, and his dark, dark – currently narrowed – brown eyes match the colour his chin-length hair perfectly. Spare the blood-red highlight on his right side. His whole attire has the theme of red and black, leaning heavily towards the black side. The leather jacket he has on now is obviously his favourite; the well-worn and rugged look gives it that character. On the table, his hands in just as worn black fingerless gloves are clenched into fists, and I'm pretty sure I can see a hint of flame tattoos over his wrists between his gloves and his jacket sleeves. Under the table his legs are spread out – obviously used to the legroom due to lack of company – in slightly tattered dark jeans and black sneakers. Definitely not an eyesore, all things considered. If the look wasn't blatantly supposed to be terrifying and to repel any human contact, I would walk up to him and say he pulls it off very well.

"Dude," Zach says. Something about his tone suggests that Will's busted/doomed.

Will picks up on it, too. "What?"

"That's Warren Peace."

Layla's eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to control her voice volume considering how close the guy in question is. "That's Warren Peace?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I've heard about him," Layla continues. "His mom's a hero and his dad's a super-villain, Baron Battle."

Almost everyone has heard of him; his dad's done some pretty terrible things. It was a memorable battle between him and the Commander.

"So where do I come in?" Will asks.

I almost look at him in surprise, but realise that both his parents are the greatest superheroes ever known. I guess I can't blame him if he doesn't know about everything they've done; I would probably ignore some of it just to get away from that life once in a while, too. I have to stop myself from smiling at the irony; from both of our perspectives, the other's lives are ideal. He probably would love to live in a place where no one else has powers and knows the link between his surname and the famous superheroes, and I would love to be immersed in super life where I can be myself and show my powers without fear of being ridiculed.

"Your dad busted his dad," Ethan explains. "Quadruple life sentence."

Magenta shrugs. "No chance of parole until after his third life."

"That's great," Will sighs. "It's my first day of Sky High, and I already have an archenemy. Hm. Is he still looking?"

Layla checks and replies before I can. "No." I look down at my food as I smile; she probably just wants him to feel better.

"No?"

"No."

Of course, he just has to check her answer, and his timid and obviously fearful gaze is met with a darker, furious one.

"Thought you said he wasn't looking," he mutters.

Smiling in sympathy at him, I realise along with him that he's now going to be terrorised because of something his dad did. That's never fair. I frown. But it's the same with Warren. So why is he blaming Will when he knows that it wasn't his fault?

I nearly drop my fork as I figure out the answer; Warren could never go up against the Commander, and he knows that. He doesn't look dumb by any means. Also, the Commander has never been in front of him and vulnerable like Will is now, so he's pinning the blame on him. But that's not the point that stuns me. It's the fact that Warren feels the need to blame someone anyway. He seems like the kind of guy that deals with pain by turning it into anger. Warren is no different to anyone else; he's just a kid that misses his dad a lot. Because he loves him a lot.

When you think of super villains, you never consider the family that they might have. You always just think of them as evil. You never give them the ability to love and cherish any other person but themselves. The fact that Baron Battle seems to have brought up an intelligent son who loves him – if with slight anger issues and self-induced solitude – gives the super villain an entirely new side that no one has ever thought about before.

This paradigm shift – in terms of super villains in general and Baron Battle – is stunning, not to mention the fact that Warren Peace is suddenly a normal guy rather than the rock of a human with no emotion other than anger. He hates seeming vulnerable, and emotions like love and pain definitely leave him so, so he puts up the dangerous façade so people don't want to get too close to him and see his emotions. I bet if he did let someone close enough, the rock would crack open to reveal the most beautiful crystals.

I haven't noticed that I've been staring at him for a while before he suddenly detects it too, and flicks his glare to me, slight surprise on his face that someone would so openly look at him and not immediately avert their gaze. A smile slowly stretches across my face even as I see only the seemingly impenetrable rock, because I now know that there is something underneath, something that he's hiding. His glare returns full force, and I realise that, while he's in this state, it's best not to play with fire, so I return to my food, trying to control my grin.

"Hey, Kait?"

I look up to see Layla looking at me weirdly. She gestures to my sparsely-filled plate. "Is that all you're having?"

And there goes my grin. I shrug, trying to think of a different reason other than the fact that we don't exactly get allowance at Daisy Bank. "I'm not that hungry."

Of course, my stomach just has to choose that time to disagree, and they all raise their eyebrows at my now obvious lie.

I sigh in defeat. "I don't have a lot of money."

Ethan nods in understanding. "Spend it all on music, books and clothes?" The others already know about my addiction to music.

I nod my head. "Kind of." Not at all.

"You can't last the day on that," Layla insists, rummaging through her bag. "I'll give you some now so you can get a pudding and a drink at least. You can pay me back whenever, and the school offer financial help to people sometimes, so you should talk to Principal Powers."

I gape at her. "Layla, there's no way I can take your money and keep a clear conscience."

"You're not taking it," she smiles. "I'm giving it to you. And didn't I just say that you can pay me back when you have enough? There are a few jobs that are good for students in Maxville, so you can start looking. Oh, do you know a Chinese restaurant called the Paper Lantern?"

I shake my head; I don't exactly have enough money to go out to restaurants.

"Well, I've seen a sign in the window that they're looking for more waiters and waitresses. You could apply there tonight and I'm sure they'll take you on."

I beam at her. "Layla, you are amazing. Thank you so much. Can you write down the address while I go get more lunch?"

Smiling in gratitude at her once more, I get up, picking up the coins that she had put in front of me and walking towards the coolers again. Once there, I browse very briefly before choosing a chocolate mousse and a chocolate milkshake. I pay for them at the counter, and start to walk back to the table.

Of course, that just happens to be when an unnaturally long arm in a striped jumper reaches around me and snatches the milkshake out of my hand. My shoulders slump slightly; I had hoped to avoid them today, but apparently they have other ideas. I turn around to face them, folding my arms and holding the pudding tightly so they can't get that either. And there they are, standing right in front of me, grinning like they own the world, with my milkshake in Lash's hand.

"Hey, there," he smirks, acting like he hasn't met me yet. This confuses me, but I decide to dwell on it later.

I glance at my milkshake, then sigh and rub my fingers over my closed eyes. They probably think it's just because I didn't want to see them here, but I'm actually hiding the gradually shifting colour of my eyes as I carefully use the contents of the bottle to undo the cap. Once I've got it loose enough, I look back up, and gesture upwards. Milkshake explodes in their faces, and I collect the rest that hasn't hit them or the floor yet and put it back in the bottle. Bending down I pick the cap off the floor and reseal the contents. Smiling at the two now-drenched seniors I say:

"I think you may want to go to the bathroom; you've got something on your faces."

As I walk away, I mull over the situation; they know me, they know what I can do, so why were they stupid enough to antagonise me when they were holding something liquid? Was it a test? To see if I had the guts to stand up to them?

Obviously someone else has figured out how I managed to do that trick with the milkshake.

"Hey, look! It's the Freshwater Freshman!"

A group of girls start laughing at her joke, and I spot the cheerleader from when we got here, the one who makes copies of herself. Considering the proud look on her face and the fact that she's laughing the hardest, she was the one who said the joke. I knew that nickname would give me grief, so I can't let it slide now, or everyone will start calling me it.

"Hey, look," I call out, mainly to her but loudly enough that everyone can hear me. "It's the literally Self-Absorbed Senior."

The table of senior girls suddenly stop laughing, gaping at me in shock while a number of people in the cafeteria chuckle at my comeback.

Take that, bitches. Water can be destructive when it wants to be.

When I take my seat back at the table again, the others are still laughing, and I grin at them all in pride and happiness.

Glancing around though, I see that Warren Peace's eyes aren't glaring at Will anymore. They're more studying me, the glare softened slightly. He's not exactly smiling, but I definitely don't feel like I want to run and hide. I smile slightly at him, ducking my head once subtly so I don't alert the others to what I'm doing or who I'm nodding to. Without waiting to see his reaction, I tuck into my food, imagining Warren Peace as a little boy, proudly showing a picture he'd drawn to his dad.

ЖЖЖ

As we walk back out of the cafeteria, I pop in to use the bathroom before Power Placement starts again, and I tell the others that I'll meet them in the gym. On my way back out, a soft deep voice behind me stops me.

"You've lost the element of surprise with the seniors, both in terms of guts and your power."

Turning around, I try not to gape as Warren Peace swaps his stuff from his bag and his locker, glancing at me with a scowl on his face only once before returning to his task. As he shuts his locker, he imparts a word of wisdom:

"I suggest you pick your fights a little more carefully from now on."

Considering his has the whole bad-boy look down to a 'T', I can't help myself. "Is that what you do?"

His scowl deepens as he looks up at me again. "People leave me alone. And that's exactly what I want."

There's a hint if I've ever heard one, I think.

With nothing left to say, I simply stand there looking at him, making sure to not seem as though I'm surprised, as though this is not completely unexpected. He seems to accept this, and throws his rucksack over his shoulder.

"See you around, Fresh."

Once again, I can't stop myself. "Okay, I don't care who you are, do not use that nickname for me."

He turns around, looking bored, exasperated and pissed off at the same time. He leans his shoulder against nearby lockers, apparently waiting for something.

"Kaitlyn," I say sheepishly, my boldness gone as quickly as my slight anger. "Rivers."

One eyebrow arches. "Rivers?"

He doesn't need to say anything else; I was expecting many jokes relating my surname to my power.

"Says you; you've been named after a book." He hasn't introduced himself, but I bet he saw us talking and glancing at him in the cafeteria, so he shouldn't be surprised that I know his name.

Either that, or your parents knew there was going to be an emotional conflict going on inside you when you were older.

We face each other off for the next few seconds, the vibes coming off both us of neither friendly nor hostile.

Suddenly, he speaks again. "Don't expect this kind of thing again, Rivers."

This time, I raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting it the first time, Warren."

His eyes narrow further before he turns without a word, walking away from me and never looking back.

Well, I think slightly dazedly, that was thoroughly unexpected.

ЖЖЖ

Back in the gym, Will's up on the platform, looking really uncomfortable and not doing much. Despite the fact that it's the Commander and Jetstream's son up there – don't get me wrong; I'm really interested in what power he has – I find my mind wandering back to that encounter with Warren Peace.

I haven't told Layla and the others about it; they'd probably just ask lots of questions. And, really, it wasn't actually anything special. We talked. That's normal, right? It's only due to the fact that it was a guy who doesn't talk very often, but he has his own reasons for that. His actions and whereabouts shouldn't be broadcast and gossiped around the entire school just because of his familial connections. But I had been surprised. It was a pretty big thing. Why did he choose to talk to me even though he'd seen me in the company of a boy he clearly isn't the biggest fan of? Was it my trick with the milkshake? How I stood up to Speed and Lash? My retort back at the senior? Or was is simpler than that; my power? The fact that I'm a hero? Or maybe it was the way I looked at him in the cafeteria; maybe he only acts all tough and repels all human contact because people automatically treat him like a pariah because of his dad. Maybe the fact that someone was looking at him – even smiling and interacting with him – as if he were any other guy made him start to open up to me. Maybe I had unwittingly – though not unwilling – made an invitation of friendship and he'd actually accepted. Hesitantly, but just maybe had actually accepted.

The thought makes me smile. Friends, huh? I seem to be acquiring a few of those today. And friends with not just Will Stronghold but Warren Peace, too. My proud smile slips ever so slightly. How the hell is being friends with both going to work?

"Whaddaya mean you don't know what your power is?"

Boomer's voice jerks me back to reality, both his actual voice and his question. Looking back up at the platform, it's obvious that Will had just whispered something to Boomer – probably what the coach just helpfully announced to the rest of the class; Boomer's leant back into a fairly normal standing position, but Will is still bend slightly closer towards the coach. He now backs away, laughing nervously as he glances down at the rest of us, shifting uncomfortably and in confusion. I'll admit, I'm joining them; Will Stronghold? Not know what his power is? Wait, does that mean…? I try to smother my sympathetic grimace.

Oh, Will, you poor thing. No wonder you've been so nervous all day.

But Boomer doesn't get the hint. "Oh, I get it; you're messin' with the coach. Just like your old man. Car," he calls pressing the button on his remote.

My heart leaps up into my throat as the trashed car plummets from the ceiling again towards my friend up on the platform. Will both senses and anticipates just in time, dropping to the floor before he gets skewered or crushed. We all wince in sympathy and shock.

"Are you insane?!" he shrieks, his voice muffled by his face-full of metal. He very carefully shifts over so his face is out from under the car so he can look at Boomer.

"I don't have super-strength."

Boomer looks stupidly confused before calling the car back up again with his remote. Will picks himself off the floor, relieved, but before he's even caught his breath, Boomer speaks again.

"Oh, I get it; you're a flyer, just like your ma, why didn't you say so?" And he presses something else on that stupid piece of equipment before any of us can say anything. The floor beneath Will's feet flies up at one end, catapulting him through the air towards the bleachers, hitting a pillar that knocks the breath out of him before falling onto the bleachers painfully. Most of us make our way to his side to check if he's alright, Layla first, of course.

Boomer, of course, shows no such sympathy. "Kid, come on; quit messin' around. I haven't got all day. What's your power?"

Will glares at him before muttering, "I don't have one."

Silence reigns in the gym as we all hear the truth we figured out heard from the horse's mouth. Boomer looks down at him.

"Stronghold," he says. "SIDEKICK!"

We all take cover and hunker down against the pulse of force created from Boomer's power, most likely heard throughout the entire school. After Boomer's finished, Will is taken to the nurse's office for his injuries while the rest of us stay behind for the rest of Power Placement.

Every part of me is itching to stand up to this bully and ask him what he has to gain by humiliating new students, students that are weaker than he is. But, of course, I'm not that out-spoken, so I stay quiet and seethe silently instead.

I can't actually tell you what happened the rest of the afternoon; I was too distracted by thoughts of either the enigmatic Warren Peace or murdering Boomer.

Will doesn't join us for the rest of the day, so I take the bus back with Layla and the others. Not going to lie; I sit there with my earphones in being really anti-social. I guess everything that happened over today is just a lot to take in, so I need time to myself to actually process it. There's also the fact that I just need to escape and enjoy my last few moments of the day's freedom; I'm going back to Daisy Bank, back to the hellhole, back to Miller, back to the other wannabe-thugs, back to the names, back to the abuse, back to being the loser, weakling, weirdo, dumbass, freak….

I take my earphones out only to say goodbye to Layla and the others as they leave before I do. When the bus gets to my stop, I sigh heavily and pull my music out, stowing away my iPod in preparation for the typical pick-pocketing that goes on at Daisy Bank; they haven't managed to get it yet, and there's no way I'm letting them anyway. Like I said before, my iPod is my life, my escape. Without it, I doubt I'd survive with everything that goes on.

Anyway, I keep my eyes peeled and my ears strained for any sign of them being near, but thankfully, mercifully, I make it to Daisy Bank without any delays. Although that means that I get to see the infestation sooner, so it's a lose-lose situation anyway.

Right on cue, no sooner have I closed the door, a set of familiar faces spring out at me, seeming to seep straight from the greasy, sticky walls themselves. The one at the front sneering at me is my age, and so the leader of these wannabe thugs. Her blond hair reflects the whole atmosphere and physicality of the place we all call home; dirty, greasy, and lifeless. Her skin is actually clean – which is more than can be said for the majority of the other inhabitants – albeit a little sickly in colour. Her grey eyes are always as cold as the iron they resemble – one of the main reasons why I'm determined for my eyes to be blue and not grey. The other four kids crowded around her just stick with her so she doesn't choose them as another victim, but I have a feeling they're not in it for the fear-factor alone.

"Hey, dumbass," she sneers as the others snicker at her long overused name for me. "How was your first day at dumbass school?"

Choosing my usual tact, I blank my face, my voice and at least try to blank my heart. "Fine," I say monotonously, trying to find a way around this gaggle.

But they wouldn't let me pass, of course. She pouts and makes a sarcastically maternal face. "Did you make any fwiends?" she asks, and the others don't even bother to hold in their laughter at such a ridiculous concept.

I have a hard time keeping my face blank of the smirk that so desperately wants to appear. Oh, you have no idea.

Instead, I lie using the same tone as I did before. "No."

The others are annoyed at my lack of response to their baits and jibes, and I use the opportunity to push past them, heading upstairs and along the corridor to my designated room, taking my key out and unlocking the door. I sometimes come home to find the door unlocked already, and with a few things stolen or vandalised, but better to keep it locked all the time than to find my room like that all the time.

Unfortunately, the gaggle has followed me upstairs, and now stands outside my cramped room while the leader simply strolls in and looks at me while I stand by my small desk and pretend to sift through paperwork.

"What's up with you, freak?" she asks, and I can imagine the disgusted grimace on her face. "Did the teachers touch you today, or something?"

Whatever papers I have in my hand, they've got an obvious crease in them now from my clenched fist. Something like that isn't a light topic for me. It's one of my worst fears and she knows that.

But something's different this time. Not her, but in me; I can feel something inside just waiting to get out. I don't know if it's residual confidence from school today, but I throw caution to the wind and let it out.

I look back up at the girl defiantly. "Unlike you, Haley, I don't invite that kind of thing with everyone I meet."

Boy, that was a big mistake.

The others outside intake a collective breath in time with Haley's face growing stormy. She takes the small step further towards me until she's pushed me up against the wall. My heart thumps against my ribcage in self-berating and fear.

You idiot! Don't get cocky just because you're at Sky High. Remember where you are now!

"What did you say to me, freak?" Haley hisses at me.

It was obviously a rhetorical question because she doesn't give me time to answer; she drives her trained, accustomed, powerful fist straight into my gut, knocking the breath out of me so fast it doesn't even have time to vibrate my vocal folds to release the cry I desperately want to. My wrist smacks painfully against my desk as I fall to the ground, luckily missing my head. But Haley's not finished; she aims three kicks directly into the same spot she hit before, and I curl up against the agony of the onslaught, whimpering at every hit.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that again!" she demands between kicks.

Finally, finally, she stops, and there's silence filled with both of us breathing hard, mine more laboured than hers.

"What's going on here?" a harsh voice pierces through the silence.

I know that voice. My body automatically curls tighter around itself in response to it, before I steel myself to look up at her. Miller. A middle-aged she-demon, her features, expression, gaze, temper and tongue as sharp as the pitchfork she should be carrying and the horns that should be sprouting from her head. Her lips are as pinched as always, but turned down in disapproval even more than usual. Well, more than usual for everyone else. Pretty much the same as normal for me. Her greying hair is pulled back into a severe bun, but don't ask me what colour her hair used to be; to me, it's just always been colourless, the same as her outfits.

Haley points at me, not even glancing back. "She insulted me!"

Despite who's in the worse position here, Miller frowns at me, obviously already decided that it's my fault. Her head jerks, and Haley strides out of my room and away with the rest of her gang. Miller takes one last look at me, her eyes narrowing further before she grasps the door handle.

"No dinner for you," she states as she pulls it closed.

I don't know how long I stay on the floor, unable or unwilling to move. But in the end I manage to drag myself up to my bed, hauling myself up into it and under the threadbare and dirty covers, clothes and all, and weeping into the pillow despite the agony of the movement until darkness calls.

What was I thinking? It's not better; it'll never be better.

Wow, that was a lot darker than I expected to end it. I expected her life to be that dark, I just didn't think I'd introduce it until later. But yeah, that's what she has to put up with. No, that's just a part of what she has to put up with. Kait goes through a lot :/ But it will get happier, I promise, so please don't disappear now just because it's got a little tough.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Many thanks for the reviews I've got already, but if you could leave more to let me know how I'm doing then that would be great.

Fly on,

NitnatRide