We were led into a gymnasium with bleachers surrounding it and a pedestal. A light flew over
our heads, like a comet, turning into a spinning woman wearing a white suit.
"Good morning. I am Principal Powers. On behalf of all the faculty and staff, welcome to Sky
a few moments you will go through Power Placement, and your own heroic journey will
begin."
"Power placement?" Will stammered quietly.
"Sounds fascist," Layla added.
"Power placement," the orange boy whose name I had discovered was Ethan began, "It's how
they decide where you go."
"The hero track or the loser track," the girl with purple highlights, Magenta, said.
Will gulped. Poor boy. "Th-th-there's a loser track?"
"I believe the preferred term is Hero Support."
The principal continued. "For now, good deeds and good luck. Let the adventure begin.
Commits away!"
"Don't look more than 5 feet up," I whispered to Zach, seeing both him and Layla nod. I may not
be able to avoid the view up the gym shorts of the soon-to-be-introduced Coach Boomer.
A circular platform rose from the floor, with no visible steps and a man on top of it. He was
wearing a dark navy track jacket and gym shorts. He was the stereotypical gym teacher,
baseball cap, clipboard, and annoyed expression on his face. I suppose some people want to
be gym teachers when they grow up, but none that I've met.
"All right, listen up," his loud angry voice said. "Mu name is Coach Boomer. You may know me
as 'Sonic Boom.'"
At our silence, he continued. "You may not. Here's how Power Placement is gonna work. You
will step up here and show me your power. And, yes, you will do so in front of the entire class-"
"Coach Boomer?" I interrupted. He sighed, annoyed with the interruption.
"Are you trying to test my patience?" he asked.
"No, sir. Is the purpose of this test to place us or to humiliate those who are less powerful?" he
opened and closed his mouth for a second before closing it with an audible snap.
"You've got spunk. You'd make a good hero, assuming you have the power to back it up."
I smirked, "Not every ability is magical."
He smirked back. "No, but the magical ones are what make the hero super."
He was smarter than he looked. And surprisingly logical. I was quite surprised I didn't get in
trouble for that and he even listened. I suppose Layla wasn't going to be tactful enough when
she spoke up.
"And we make everyone show their powers because stress situations help bring out the powers
of those that would otherwise have trouble accessing them."
I nodded in thanks. It made sense, even if it had other downsides. I heard a voice behind me
huff.
"Didn't think he had it in him." The voice was low, but soft.
Another voice answered, "Yeah, but so much for proving myself before they know who my father
is."
"Yeah, but what about when they figure out what I am."
I turned around, but realized the two that had spoken hadn't actually spoken yet. It was the fire
boy and his friend. If they were first years too, I wondered why they had already been on
campus. I shrugged it off. Perhaps they had parents who were teachers, or their bus got there
early, or their parents dropped them off. I was fairly certain I wasn't supposed to have heard that
conversation. I turned back around, realizing I had been staring and they were starting to take
notice. I cursed myself. I needed to remember not to react until the second time I heard
something when around strangers. With friends I could react all I wanted, but it tended to creep
out strangers.
While I had been contemplating how to erase the past few minutes (I was coming up blank), the
first kid had already been sorted. The creepy kid from the bus had turned into a rock monster,
and was a hero. I knew because I saw it five minutes ago.
It was Zach's turn. Or at least he would make it that way. He confidently walked up to the ladder
steps and onto the stage without permission.
The coach rolled his eyes. "Did I say you were next?"
"Name's Zach, Coach Boomer. Try not to drop your clipboard." My best friend shook his hands
and took a breath before slapping them together, clearly having started glowing, at least to
someone who knew what he was trying to make visible.
"Any day now, superstar."
"I'm doin' it."
"Doin' what?" the coach replied, clearly thinking Zach was trying to fool him.
"I'm glowin'."
"I don't think so." The coach circled Zach, with even more disbelief.
Zach tried to convince him. "Well, it's easier to see in a dark room. Turn off these lights, cup
your hands around your eyes, and look real close…"
Zach. Zach. Zach. It's too late. He's decided you're either a liar or your light is too weak for hero
class.
"Sizekick!" he said, not as loudly as he had said it to others.
"Sidekick!" his voice boomed, sending Zach flying off the platform.
I whispered to Ethan. "You're next. Don't try any compliments. It won't work." He looked at me
funnily, like I was slightly crazy. I guess that's a fair assumption.
He listened though, and melted into a puddle. "Say, that's pretty impressive…" the Coach
started, crouching over the puddle, "for a Popsicle! Sidekick!"
"I was expecting butt-kissing. Good for the kid," he muttered. I'm pretty sure the only reason I
heard that was because Ethan did, and he was close enough for me to see his perspective.
A boy wearing a green t-shirt and white shorts grew four extra arms.
"Hero!"
A girl wearing a white and green cheerleading outfit, or at least an incredibly short skirt and
fitted t-shirt did a flip in the air, turning into a kick ball, which the coach kicked off the stage,
saying "Side…kick!"
An african american boy with shortened spiky hair spit at a wall about 10 feet away. It hit at
about their face level.
"Super spit?" the coach sighed. "Sidekick."
The boy tapped his shoulder and the coach looked up to see the column disintegrating around
the spit.
"Acid spit. Hero!"
A shapeshifter shifted into a coach look-alike. "Ho! Hero! And a handsome one at that."
The coach slapped his but flirtaciously. Seriously, flirting with himself. "Get out of here,
knucklehead!"
"Purple kid. Let's go."
Magenta rolled her eyes and strolled up to the platform, staring at him defiantly. He stared at her
for a few seconds before giving in. "What's your shtick?"
"I'm a shapeshifter."
"Okay. Shift it."
She put her hands in front of her as she shrunk into a guinea pig. The rodent had black shiny fur
and a purple stripe through its fur, the same color as her hair's highlight.
"A guinea pig?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yep," her squeaky, alvin-the-chipmunk-sounding voice said.
"Not even a swarm of guinea pigs?"
"Uh, no."
"Sidekick. Shoo!"
"Bit me."
He pointed at Layla. I knew trying to advise her to just take the test was pointless. She wouldn't
do it, so I didn't bother to warn her he wouldn't listen.
"You. Flower child. Let's go."
Huh, he was surprisingly accurate with that nickname. Too bad he wouldn't figure out how right
he was.
"Uh, I believe in only using my powers when the situation demands it."
"Well, you're in luck." He spread his arms, clearly annoyed. "This is the situation, and I'm
demanding it."
"But to participate in this test would be to support a flawed system. The whole hero-sidekick
dichotomy only serves to…"
He turned. My turn.