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Out on a Tether By Morpheus Reno Nevada, Tuesday October 2nd. High school is an utterly amazing place. Not only is it a bastion of learning and education, but also a social melting pot where you can interact with a lot of different people, giving you the opportunity to make contacts and friendships that can last a lifetime. Who am I kidding. School sucks. Maybe, if I'd been a big buff jock like my older brother Brad, then school might not have been so bad. After all, he never had to deal with bullies, and had no problem getting girls to notice him. I, on the other hand, was a short and chubby geek, which meant that my high school life was a living hell. It was lunch, and I was sitting in the back corner of the cafeteria, in the area near the garbage cans that was usually relegated to the freshmen...and the less popular freshmen at that. I wasn't quite so unpopular that I was forced to sit there, and could have gotten away with sitting in a few other places. However, this was a lightly populated table, and I valued the relative privacy it offered me. "Hey, Mikey," a familiar voice called out. I looked up, just in time to see Aaron Matthews sitting down in the seat across from me. Aaron was my self-proclaimed best friend, which meant that I couldn't get rid of him if I'd tried. When I started at this new school last year, Aaron had clung to me as a 'kindred spirit' and I'd been stuck with him ever since. Admittedly, he annoyed me less than a lot of the other kids, and he was actually excited about my hobby. "My name is Mike," I corrected him yet again. At fourteen, I was old enough that I was tired of everyone calling me Mikey, since it sounded like a little kid name, and had been trying to get people to call me Mike instead. Unfortunately, I wasn't having much luck. If I couldn't even get my 'best friend' to call me Mike instead of Mikey, how could I get anyone else to do so? Aaron seemed to completely ignore what I'd said, because he immediately asked, "Hey, Mikey. Have you done any more?" I rolled my eyes, knowing better than to fight a losing battle. Without a word, I slid the sketch pad that I'd been working at to him. Aaron immediately opened it up and looked at the final couple pages, his eyes opening in delight. "This is awesome," Aaron stated with a broad grin. "You need to get this published..." "Thanks," I responded with a smile, remembering exactly why I still hung out around Aaron. He was a total comic book geek, and he really appreciated the fact that I'd been working on my own comic. In fact, he was probably the only one who did. "I've been thinking of posting this online." "You really ought to," Aaron agreed with a broad grin before he slid my sketch pad back to me. "You're really good." I basked in the praise, even if it only came from Aaron. I flipped open my sketch pad, which was actually more of a folder since I'd removed a lot of the pages and had tucked the paper back in. The very first picture in the notebook, was a drawing I'd made of a heavily muscled man with a massively oversized gun. This was Major Macho, the main character of the comic that I'd been working on for the last year. He was the epitome of all things manly, and made even Chuck Norris look like a wimp in comparison. Of course, every hero needs a villain, and for Major Macho, that was Ms. Perfect. Ms. Perfect's picture was the next one, and I was quite pleased with how that one turned out. She looked sexy and athletic, with the dark hair that hung down over half her face, similar to Jessica Rabbit or Veronica Lake. Ms. Perfect was a great villainess, being absolutely perfect at everything she did. She was a femme fatale, master of multiple martial arts, an ingenious scientist, and a brilliant mastermind. Major Macho had sometimes messed with her schemes, but she usually accomplished her real goal anyway, and he has never been able to catch her...except for the one time when she let him as part of her plan. "You know," Aaron said with a thoughtful look. "You've been doing this storyline for awhile, but Major Macho is barely even in it..." "He'll show up," I promised, without much enthusiasm. Major Macho was the hero of my story, but the truth was, I was kind of bored of him. He was a big dumb brute, who either punched or shot his way through every problem. Ms. Perfect was a much more interesting character, so I'd found myself focusing more and more on her. Aaron was saying something about a possible plot idea I should use, though I barely paid him much attention as I ate my lunch and considered what I was going to do with my current storyline. Major Macho was going to come bursting in soon and stumble over Ms. Perfect's scheme, so I needed to figure how she was going to turn it to her own advantage. "Did you hear about those supervillains who were tearing around last weekend?" Aaron abruptly asked me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Only three times," I responded with a roll of my eyes. "They're probably here from Vegas," Aaron offered. "Maybe," I agreed, not particularly caring. "I mean, some hero was fighting them," Aaron continued, "but they gave him the slip..." "Or they paid him to let them go," I added with a shrug. Aaron gave me a look of shock and disbelief. "No way... Superheroes can't be bought." "Everyone can be bought," I pointed out with a roll of my eyes. "You just need the right price." Aaron just stared at me like I'd kicked a puppy or something. He was a nice kid, but definitely naive. He probably still thought that Santa Clause was real and that politicians told the truth. "They're superheroes," Aaron said slowly, as if trying to explain something simple to a child. "That means they're the good guys." "Yeah, right," I muttered with another roll of my eyes. "Just like the cops." Aaron pouted a little at that, then decided to change the subject by asking, "Anyway, what do you think those villains were after?" I shrugged. "No idea." I hadn't even known there were any supervillains in the area until Aaron had told me about them. He was a lot more interested in that kind of thing than I was. Once I finished eating, I took my tray to the garbage can a short distance away, only to have someone 'bump' me from behind. I staggered and spilled the leftovers from my tray onto the floor, right in front of the can. I turned around to look at the person who'd pushed me, Jackson Lewis, one of the more obnoxious kids in school. He was a sophomore, and just a general jerk, though not one who'd caused me many specific problems before. I was just a target of opportunity. "Pretty clumsy, ain'tcha?" Jackson asked with a smirk, clearly daring me to do something about it. I wasn't stupid enough to get into a fight with Jackson, since I knew I'd only get my ass kicked. I was definitely no Major Macho, so instead, I started to walk away, only to have Jackson grab my shoulder. "I think you need to clean that up," Jackson said, pointing to the mess on the floor. "With your bare hands." "What?" I asked with a snort. "You're not gonna ask me to do it with my tongue?" Jackson grinned, as if he liked that idea. But before he could say anything, he suddenly had a hand on his shoulder and the large boy looming up behind him asked, "You got a problem with my brother?" "Hey, Brad," I said, smiling in relief at the sight of my brother. "Brother?" Jackson gasped, giving Brad a nervous look. "Yeah," Brad agreed, making a show of cracking his knuckles. "My brother." "It was just a little misunderstanding," Jackson told him as he backed away. "No problem..." As soon as Jackson was gone, I told Brad, "Thanks..." "No problem," Brad responded, punching me on the shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. "But you're doing my chores for the next week..." I let out a sigh and nodded my acceptance. Brad gave a nod, then turned and walked away. There were good things and bad things about having a brother like Brad. He often protected me from bullies, scaring them away with the threat of violence, but he had no problem with pushing me around himself. -------------------- Reno Nevada, Tuesday afternoon, October 2nd. The school day was over, much to my relief. I was on my way home, where I was eager to get to my room and work on my comic. I had a great picture in mind for Ms. Perfect, and I wanted to draw it before I lost my inspiration. I was just across from the apartment where I lived with Brad and our dad, when I noticed the cop car parked in front. The apartment manager was next to the car, leaning over and talking to the cop. Then, as I watched, the apartment manager slipped him an envelope that was probably full of cash. His monthly protection fee. I wasn't surprised by the payoff, only that they were doing it in the open rather than in the manager's office. At least when my dad had to slip the cops a little extra to look the other way, he was smart enough to do it behind closed doors, or where there weren't any witnesses. As my dad always said, life is like a game, and you had to pay to play. If you couldn't afford the buy in, then you had no chance at the pot and the real players would roll right over you. I'd seen that first hand. Before we'd moved here last year, we'd lived in a house that my dad owned. Unfortunately, the city council had declared eminent domain on the entire city block and kicked everyone out of their homes. Afterwards, they sold the property to a private company to build a high end country club. I didn't bother giving the cop or apartment manager another look, and casually walked past, acting as though I didn't see a thing. Two minutes later, I was in our third floor apartment, where I found my dad home from work early. My dad, Harry Cook, was a big man, though not quite as big or solid as Brad. And like Brad, he was good at getting his way through either physical violence or the threat of it. However, he was also an opportunist who usually had some scheme going. I wasn't the least bit interested in playing the tough guy, or even in looking for a quick buck, so I was something of a disappointment. The truth was, I really didn't care. It all seemed pretty pointless to me. "Hey, Dad," I greeted him. "Mikey," he responded. Dad had a deck of cards spread out on the coffee table in front of him, and I was pretty sure that he'd just finished marking them, or at least, I wouldn't have put it past him. "Make yourself useful and go get dinner." "Sure," I responded with a shrug, holding out my hand and waiting for the money. There was no way I was going to spend my own meager allowance on dinner, and after a minute, Dad grudgingly slapped a couple twenties into my palm. I took my time leaving the apartment and heading down the street. I already knew where I was going since we were regulars at the little Italian restaurant. None of us were even halfway decent in the kitchen, so we lived off a steady diet of take-out and delivery. Once I arrived, I greeted Mel, the owner, "Hey, I'm back again." Mel was a stocky guy, only an a couple inches taller than me. He gave me a friendly nod before joking, "You're here so often, I'm thinking about naming a pizza after you." "Just as long as there aren't any anchovies," I told him with a grin. "Or peppers. I hate peppers." "I think I can do that," Mel replied with a chuckle. "Now, what can I do for you?" "The usual," I told him. "Lasagna, two chicken parms, and big side of meatballs." While I waited for my order to be readied, I took a seat and looked around the restaurant. I'd been here more often than I have my school library, and I wasn't exactly a stranger there. In some ways, this place was my second home, or at least, the place I liked to hang out when I wanted to get away from the apartment. I was looking around the d?cor on the walls, when I suddenly felt a strange pressure through my entire body. It passed in just a second, or at least most of it did, but I sat there gasping for breath, realizing that I could still feel something odd. I couldn't really make sense of what it was I was feeling since I didn't have a frame of reference, but I knew it wasn't normal. I was still trying to make sense of what I was feeling when Mel was ready with the food. "Thanks," I told Mel, grabbing the bags of take- out and giving him another nod before leaving. A few minutes later, I was back home, and I had barely made it through the door before Dad and Brad tore into the food. I ate my own chicken parm, which was pretty good as always, but I was still aware of the strange sensation. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the pressure I felt was actually more of a faint pull. In fact, it felt like I had some sort of bungee cord or tether, gently pulling me in another direction...back towards the restaurant. That faint stretching sensation had become more noticeable the further away I'd gone from the restaurant. Out of curiosity, I gave a mental tug on that tether, and suddenly, I felt a strange pressure through my entire body, right before everything vanished. An instant later, I was back in the waiting area of the restaurant and looking around in shock and confusion. "What the fuck?" I blurted out, trying to make sense of how I'd gotten back here. However, I did notice that the strange pressure and mental bungee cord were gone. I just stood there for several seconds, trying to make sense of what had just happened to me. However, I wasn't stupid. This kind of weirdness didn't just happen to normal people, or at least, not most normal people. However, this was exactly the kind of weird thing that always happened around mutants. "Oh shit," I whispered with a sinking feeling. A moment later, I ran out the door. -------------------- Reno Nevada, Saturday afternoon, October 6th. "I'm a mutant," I said as I stared into the bathroom mirror, stating this as a simple fact. On Tuesday, I'd suddenly vanished from the dinner table, giving Dad and Brad a bit of a shock, though not nearly as large as the one I'd suffered. When I'd returned home a short time later, through the front door, I'd been forced to come up with an explanation for what happened, though I didn't know much more than they had. "I think I'm a mutant," I'd told Dad, worried about what he'd think or do. On the way back from the restaurant, for the second time, I'd had visions of how Dad might react to the news that I was probably a mutant. I'd imagined him flying into a rage or disowning me on the spot, however, the way he'd actually reacted, scared me even more than either of those possibilities. Instead of getting upset, my dad had just stared at me with a grin, and the same gleam in his eyes that he had whenever he saw an opportunity for an easy score. After that rather shocking event, I'd been left to figure out whether I actually had manifested some kind of mutant power, or if what had happened to me was just a one-time event. I'd spent the entire night, willing myself to go back to the restaurant, without any success. But then, just as I'd been about to give up, I confirmed that I really did have powers, almost by accident. Ever since then, I've been trying to figure out how these powers worked, and I was pretty sure that I'd figured them out. Unfortunately, I might be a mutant, but so far, my powers didn't seem all that impressive. As I stared into the bathroom mirror, I was clearly reminded that my mutation came with more than just those weird powers. Ever since Tuesday, I'd lost almost fifteen pounds. My fat was just melting away, and I no longer looked quite as chubby. "Losing weight is a good thing," I mused, reaching up to touch my hair. "But this..." For some reason, my hair had darkened from its usual light brown into a dark chestnut brown, and it had grown about four inches longer. And though I couldn't point out anything else specifically, I was pretty sure that my face looked just a little off as well. I'd heard stories of mutants becoming hideous freaks after they manifested, so these changes concerned me more than a little. Fortunately, I didn't seem to be growing scales or horns, but I was still pretty worried. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on the bathroom door, which could only come from one person. "Hurry the fuck up," Brad called out from the other side of the door. "I need to take a crap." "It's all yours," I told Brad, not even bothering to open the door. I could feel an invisible bungee cord stretching out from me to my bedroom, so I gave it a mental tug. An instant later, I was standing in the middle of my bedroom, and the invisible tether that had tied me to that spot was gone. I stuck my head out of my bedroom and repeated, "It's all yours." Brad glared at me from further down the hallway, muttered, "Damn show off," and then stomped into the bathroom. As I'd originally suspected, my mutant power was a kind of teleportation, but I couldn't simply teleport wherever I wanted. Instead, I could set a sort of 'anchor' wherever I was at, and tether myself to that spot. Then, all I had to do was give a mental tug on that tether, and I'd suddenly get pulled back to the other end, removing the anchor and tether in the process. "Now, where was I," I muttered as I took a seat at my desk. I looked over the comic page that I'd been working on, nodded to myself, then went to work on it. The current page had Major Macho bursting through a wall in stereotypical badass action hero fashion, as he attempted to catch Ms. Perfect by surprise. "Have you still not learned how to use a door?" I asked aloud, which was what I was going to have Ms. Perfect say in the next panel. However, I had to finish with this one before I could get back to hers. Though Major Macho was the star of my comic, I'd always enjoyed drawing Ms. Perfect a bit more. After all, who wouldn't prefer to look at a hot looking babe over an overly muscled guy? And admittedly, I'd always related to Ms. Perfect a little more. She was smart, sexy, confident, and able to do just about anything she wanted. Who wouldn't want that kind of freedom? I was just finishing up with the final panel on that page, when there was a pounding on my bedroom door, followed by my dad coming inside. "Mikey," he exclaimed. "I've got a job for you." My ears perked up at that...and all my warning bells began going off. "A job?" "I need you to make a delivery," Dad told me, looking rather satisfied with himself. I gave Dad a suspicious look, already guessing why he was asking me to do this instead of Brad. With my new power, if things got a bit messy, I could just use it to escape. Ever since Tuesday, Dad had been looking for a way to use my powers, and it appeared that he'd found it. "Take this," Dad said, handing me a box that was about the size of a brick. "If anyone hassles you, haul ass back here." "Got it," I told him with a scowl. Then, with a faint smirk, I added, "And when I get back, I think we need to talk about raising my allowance." "You know," Dad told me as he left my room. "You being a mutant just might be pretty damn useful..." Once Dad was gone, I used my new powers to create an anchor to my bedroom. I could now feel myself being tethered to my room, which gave me an odd sort of comfort since I could instantly return back to this spot if things got too hairy. A few minutes later, I left the house to deliver the package like Dad asked. As I walked down the street, I could feel my tether stretching more and more. At about two blocks away from home, I reached the end of my link, and I could feel the pressure from it pulling at me. I suddenly realized that I had two choices. I could let the tether snap me back to my room right that instant, or I could let it go. Since I had no intention of going home now, I let go of the link and all the pressure instantly vanished. "There goes my shortcut home," I muttered in annoyance. "Dad is really gonna owe me for this one." When I arrived at my destination, I stood outside the bar and wondered how I was going to get in. There was a big guy standing next to the door, and I wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be a bouncer or some kind of guard. Either way, I was pretty sure that he wouldn't let a kid like me in, at least not unless I greased his palm, and I didn't have enough cash for anything like that. Suddenly, I had a strange certainty that the guy at the door had a gun under his jacket. In fact, I was equally sure that he also had a knife and that his name was John. I couldn't say why I knew these things, only that I somehow did. After a little consideration, I went around the corner of the building and set an anchor. Then, I went up to the front entrance and told John, "Hi. I have a delivery for Mister Harper." John stared down at me with a hard expression that might have made me change my mind and leave, if I didn't already have my exit plan arranged. "What delivery?" he finally demanded. I shrugged. "I don't know. I was just told to bring it to Mister Harper." Then, because I was pretty sure of what he was going to say next, I quickly added, "And I was told that I couldn't give it to anyone else." For a moment, I thought John was going to demand I give him the package anyway, but instead, he said, "Come on inside, kid." I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything as I went inside with him. I was told to stay at the door while John went back and talked to someone else. A minute later, I was waved back to the back room. As I walked through the bar, whatever that thing was that let me know those things about John, it was still going on. I knew the bartender had a shotgun beneath the bar and his hand was resting on it. I knew the old drunk in the corner wasn't drunk, and that he too was armed. This strange sense of what was going on around me was extremely unnerving, but at the moment, I was also grateful for it. "In there," John told me, pointing to a door. With a gulp and a nod, I went through the door. It was a large office, much larger than I would have expected from the back of a bar, and all the furniture was wood and leather. The man behind the desk was tall and athletic, and was dressed in a suit and wearing a pair of sunglasses. Again, I was suddenly struck by a strange certainty, but this time, I was sure that he had superpowers. I didn't know what kind of powers, only that they were dangerous. That just made me gulp again. "I was told that you have something for me," the man stated in a cold tone. "Mister Harper?" I asked him nervously. "That's me," he responded. I suddenly wondered what it was my dad was mixed up in this time, because as far as I knew, this was the first time he'd ever gotten involved with someone who had powers. Then again, Dad might not know that Harper had powers. "My dad told me to bring this to you," I told Harper, carefully setting the box my dad had given me onto his desk, then stepping back. I was curious about what was in the box, but I hadn't asked Dad and I wasn't about to ask Harper. I had a feeling that this was one of those things where the less I knew, the safer I'd be. "Stay there," Harper ordered me as I began to back out of his office. I froze. He opened the box, pulling out a much nicer container that had been inside of it, one with a black felt covering. Seconds later, he opened that box and pulled out a handful of what looked like diamonds. My eyes shot open as I saw them and realized what I'd been carrying with me. For a moment, Harper looked satisfied, then he froze, holding one of the diamonds up for a closer look. He dropped it onto his desk and held up another one, scowling intensely. "It seems your father is trying to screw me," Harper said, glaring at me. "These are fakes... Good quality fakes, but fakes nonetheless..." "I didn't know," I blurted out, taking a fearful step back. "Dad never told me what was in the box..." Harper stood up, looking far scarier than any bully in school. "I'm afraid that I have to send your father a message..." Those words were all I needed to turn and run. I was barely out of his office when Harper yelled, "Get the kid." The 'drunk' in the corner immediately leapt to his feet and drew a gun on me, while the bartender pulled out his shotgun and actually opened fire. I dove to the side the moment I saw him making his move, surprising myself with just how quickly I was able to do so. However, I wasn't quite fast enough as a couple pellets caught me in my upper arm and shoulder. I yelled in pain, but my survival instincts were sharp enough that I didn't just grab my injuries and start crying. Instead, I took one quick glance towards the door, where John was waiting, then ran to the open bathroom. "Get that kid," Harper yelled again. I didn't wait for Harper or his people to come after me, and as soon as I was out of sight, I gave a mental tug on my tether. An instant later, I was outside the building, where I could catch my breath and check my wounds. I reached to where I'd been hit in my arm, and to my surprise, there was a little blood...but no wound. Instead, I had a small round scar, which felt very tender but didn't hurt very much. I couldn't quite reach my shoulder, but that felt about the same as my arm. "Holy shit," I gasped, stunned by this latest revelation about my mutant powers. Since my tether had been used up when I'd teleported back to this spot, I set a new anchor, just in case. As soon as I'd done that, I started running for home, eager to get away as quick as I could. And the, once I got home, Dad and I were going to have a little talk. -------------------- Reno Nevada, Monday afternoon, October 8th. There is a universally accepted rule that Mondays suck. For kids like me, going back to school after having the weekend off, and then having to turn in all the homework that we were supposed to have done, was quite discouraging. For most adults, Mondays meant going back to work and dealing with the bullshit of rude customers, obnoxious bosses, and everything else that comes from being part of the rat rate. And for my dad, who never works a regular Monday through Friday shift, I was pretty sure that he hated Mondays just on general principal. Even though I was back in the great social experiment that they called school, and sitting in the middle of Mrs. Mueller's biology class, my thoughts were still on the events of Saturday. I didn't know what kind of scheme Dad was involved in, only that he'd sent me into the lion's den with a box full of fake diamonds. I'd almost been killed as a result, and Dad still refused to tell me what was going on. "Don't worry about Harper," Dad had told me, looking quite smug as he did so. "He doesn't even know who I really am. I used a fake identity and threw in a few red herring, so we're all safe. Just keep your head down and your eyes open though...just in case." I was pissed at Dad, though I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, the whole reason he'd sent me was because I had the ability to escape when he couldn't have. Of course, that hadn't stopped me from being shot. As I thought about my narrow escape, I rubbed my arm where I'd been hit with the shotgun pellet. The injury had healed over and scarred almost immediately, but I'd fallen and scraped my elbow on the way to school this morning, and it was still messed up. Why had I healed after being shot, but not after scraping my elbow? The only thing I could think of, was that after being shot, I'd used my powers to teleport away, and I hadn't done that today. The events of Saturday had given me a lot of questions, and made me realize that I didn't really know as much about my new powers as I thought I did. Not only was there the matter of my healing, but there was also the fact that I'd somehow known things that I shouldn't have. I'd known John's name, who in the bar was armed, and even that Harper had powers. Of course, I'd never seen Harper actually use any powers, but I had seen the 'drunk' and the bartender pull out their weapons. And unlike with the healing, that hadn't gone away. Ever since Saturday, I was still having small flashes of insight, where I suddenly 'knew' things about the people and places around me. While I was sitting in my algebra class, I became certain that my teacher was cheating on her husband. When I sat next to Donnie Artez in English, I'd known that he had a bag of weed in his backpack. And when I'd seen our school principal in the hallway between classes, I'd been struck with the realization that he was gay. At first, I'd wondered if I had mind reading as well as that weird teleportation, but I didn't think I was hearing anyone's thoughts. And besides, when I'd walked into my history class before anyone else had arrived, even the teacher, I'd suddenly known that there was a gun locked up in one of the drawers of the teacher's desk. Instead of mind reading, it seemed that I had some kind of ESP. Almost as soon as I realized that I had this ability, I began considering how I might be able to use it. Could I tell what cards were in another player's hand? Would I be able to predict what card would be drawn from a deck next? The things I was picking up didn't actually seem to be that specific, and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to choose what I suddenly 'knew'. So far, I hadn't had any luck when I tried. And then there was the fact that casinos tended to be on the lookout for cheats, even ones who uses mutant powers. I had a feeling that if I crossed any of the casinos that way, I'd probably be buried in a shallow grave somewhere in the desert. I glanced at Mrs. Mueller, still not paying a lot of attention as she droned on about chromosomes, though I wondered what she'd say about mutant powers. How did people become mutants anyway, because the whole thing about spontaneously changing and manifesting powers was pretty damn weird. It was no wonder that there were so many people who saw mutants as freaks. On one hand, the idea of actually having powers like Major Macho or Ms. Perfect was exciting, but on the other hand, it would have been nice to have some simple powers that made a bit more sense. Being able to teleport normally would have been awesome, but the way I did it was a little less useful. And then, there was also the minor fact, that if anyone actually found out I was a mutant, it would be extremely dangerous for me. Just then, Aaron distracted me from my thoughts by leaning over from the seat beside mine and whispering, "What did she say?" "She said that cows and chickens can reproduce together," I quietly responded, just to mess with him. "It just takes a lot of booze." Aaron gave me a look of annoyance, which confirmed that he wasn't stupid enough to fall for that. However, he did leave me alone for the rest of the class, which was all that I'd really wanted. However, as soon as class ended, he was there again, asking if I had any new pages for my comic. "I didn't get much done this weekend," I told him, showing what I had finished. "I've been a little...distracted." Aaron nodded his head in understanding, though the truth was, he had absolutely no idea of what I'd really been up to. As much as I enjoyed drawing and working on my comic, that was nothing compared to dealing with that kind of thing for real. "Hey, Mikey," Aaron said, flashing me a grin. "That was awesome how you shot up that rope today in gym. I mean, normally, you can't even make it halfway up, and today you climbed it like it was nothing." "I just had a good day," I responded, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The fact was, normally I was less than athletic, and as Aaron had just pointed out, I sucked in PE. Whenever our sadistic PE teacher made us climb the ropes in some vain attempt to reach the top, I never did especially well. But today, for some reason, I'd been able to climb it all the way to the top without much effort. Obviously, this was yet another benefit of my mutation, even if it wasn't nearly as impressive as my escape route trick. "I bet Major Macho couldn't have done it any better," Aaron told me with a broad grin. "Maybe you're a mutant..." "Don't even joke about that," I snapped at Aaron, hoping that no one heard him. I didn't want anyone to get any ideas, especially since I actually was a mutant. "Jenna Morton is really into Humanity First, and if she overhears you and gets the wrong idea, I might end up with those guys picketing my house or something." The 'something', which I hadn't specified, could have been a firebombing or a number of other equally unpleasant results. "Sorry," Aaron responded with an apologetic shrug. However, he still added, "But that was cool..." "I don't think it will happen again," I said, knowing that I'd have to be a lot more careful from now on. "I just got lucky today." "Well, your pictures are good," Aaron told me, changing topics back to the one subject we could always talk about. "Have you ever thought of doing some kind of cameos, like, maybe adding Doctor Amazing or the Magus?" I considered that for a moment, then shook my head. "Not really. I mean, bringing in real people might tempt them to sue me or something." I probably could have continued talking with Aaron about my comic, but we only had a limited amount of time until our next class, the last of the day, and we'd already used most of it up. I began putting my drawings and books into my bag and was about to leave Mrs. Mueller's room, when Aaron stopped me again. "Mikey," he said, staring at me with a strange expression. "You look kind of...different." Those words made me wince, because I knew just how true they were. I did look different, and it was more than just the fact that I'd lost weight or that my hair had become longer and darker. Most people never paid me much attention, so didn't notice these changes, but Aaron... If anything, I should have been surprised that he hadn't noticed them earlier. "What's going on?" he asked me. Then his eyes went wide and he quickly looked around before whispering, "Are you a mutant?" My heart skipped a beat at the question. "I don't know what you're talking about," I answered in a flat tone. "And if I was a mutant, I certainly wouldn't talk about it here at school." Aaron's eyes widened a little more but he gave me a faint nod of acknowledgement. "Sure, I get you." A few seconds later, Aaron and I were both out the door and on our way to our final classes of the day. He had some art class, while I had social studies. I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be paying any more attention in that class than I had in my last one, and as it turned out, I was right. The last class of the day passed in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, school was over for the day. As soon as the last bell rang, just about everyone rushed out the door as fast as possible. I took my time to get up and leave. I had just started down the hallway when I found my path blocked. Jackson stepped out in front of me, puffing himself up to look even more intimidating, not that he needed it. The instant I saw him, I knew that he must be planning to continue the business from last week that Brad had interrupted. "Your brother ain't here to protect you this time," Jackson announced with a smirk. "Really?" I asked wryly. "You're really gonna go with this clich??" "What the hell are you talking about?" Jackson demanded. I shook my head sadly, then told him, "Sorry, but I'm not going into a locker or head first into a toilet, so you can forget whatever it is you have planned." With that, I turned and ran while Jackson started to follow me. As soon as I turned around a corner, I dove into an open classroom door and pulled on my tether. I'd set an anchor as soon as I arrived at school this morning, remembering how useful it had been to have an escape route on Saturday, and making sure that I had one here. An instant later, I was outside the school, right behind some hedges where I wouldn't be seen. I smirked to myself and decided that I was really starting to like being a mutant. These powers were definitely starting to come in handy, and I could easily get used to this. "Oh yeah," I mused, remembering my earlier thoughts about my powers, and specifically, about something I'd been planning to test. I looked at my scraped elbow and saw that it was completely healed, without so much as a scar. Then I looked at my arm where I'd previously been hit with a shotgun pellet, and to my surprise, the scar was now gone. "So, teleporting actually heals me," I said in amazement. I ran a finger over my formerly scuffed elbow and grinned. Then, I started towards my waiting bus, saying, "Yeah, I can get used to this." -------------------- Reno Nevada, Tuesday afternoon, October 9th. I sat in the waiting area of my favorite restaurant, trying to be patient while Mel finished getting our usual dinner order ready. While I sat there, I slowly looked around, remembering the fact that it was one week ago, in this very space, that I'd discovered I was a mutant. However, even after a week, I was still trying to wrap my head around everything that came with that, and what it meant for me. I absently rubbed the palm of my left hand, frowning as I thought about the experiment I'd performed earlier today. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the way my scuffed elbow and my injury from Saturday had healed, so I'd used a razor blade to make a small cut on my palm. After ten minutes, the cut had still been there, so I'd made a short teleport, and the cut vanished. However, I'd also realized that whenever I teleported like that, I not only healed from my injuries, but that my body also changed a little more. Until now, I'd been a little concerned about the changes my body was going through, but not nearly as worried as I probably should have been. After all, I'd lost weight and had become more athletic, which weren't things that most people would complain of. However, my hair had also darkened and lengthened, and I'd noticed a number of smaller changes that were only now becoming apparent. So far, these weren't really bad, and I hadn't seen any signs of fur, scales, or anything else really weird, but that didn't mean those kinds of things might not come. "Hey, Mikey," Mel called to get my attention. "Your order is ready." "Thanks," I told him, trying to ignore the slow trickle of information from my powers, which now told me that he had four kids and was mildly allergic to strawberries. I gave him a faint smile, grabbed the bags containing my food, and took off. I barely stepped out the door when I was suddenly struck with the feeling that I was in danger, though it took me several seconds before I realized why. A man was climbing out of a car in the parking look, and I immediately recognized him as the bartender from Saturday. I wasn't about to forget someone who'd shot at me. At the moment, I couldn't see any weapons on him, but I still knew that he was armed with a pistol and a knife. And at the moment, he didn't appear to have seen me yet so I reached for my escape route and teleported back home. The moment I appeared in the living room of our apartment, I blurted out, "Oh shit..." "Where the hell is our dinner?" Dad immediately demanded, which made me realize that the food hadn't come with me. "Shit," I cursed, thinking about both the lost food and the bartender. I glared at Dad since this was all his fault and said, "One of Harper's guys was there." This time, it was Dad's turn to mutter a few profanities. "And he came after you?" I shook my head at that. "I saw him before he saw me." "Good," Dad responded with a deep scowl. "It's all that bastard Marco's fault... He assured me those diamonds were dead perfect. All I had to do was slip those to Harper, and were supposed to be good..." "Well, it didn't work," I pointed out as I glared at Dad. "Now those guys are after ME." "Then, let's just go kick their asses," Brad offered as he came into the room. He made a show of cracking his knuckles, which made me roll my eyes. "And more importantly, what are we gonna do for dinner?" "You're welcome to go get it," I pointed out, gesturing to the door. "I think it's probably on the ground next to the restaurant door. Or at least, that's where I assume it is, since it didn't come with me." Brad came over and stared down at me, obviously intending to intimidate me into being quiet, or possibly into going out and getting dinner again. However, after several seconds, he exclaimed, "Your eyes..." "My eyes?" I blinked in confusion. "What the hell happened to your eyes?" Brad demanded. Then he gave me a suspicious look. "Is this more of that weird mutant crap?" I had no idea what Brad was talking about, but it didn't take me long to figure it out. Since my body was already changing, I hurried to the bathroom and stared into the mirror above the sink, immediately seeing what Brad meant. "No way," I gasped in surprise. The irises in both of my eyes had changed from their normally dull brown, to a brilliant emerald green. However, as surprising as that was, I was even more shocked to see that the whites of my right eye had turned solid black. My left eye looked different than normal, but still within the normal range for a human, but my right eye stood out as strange and even a bit creepy. "No way," I repeated in stunned disbelief. I knew those eyes...even the odd right one. I should know them, since I'd imagined them often enough, even more than I'd drawn them. Those eyes belonged to Ms. Perfect. Her right eye was her one feature that was less than perfect, which was why she usually hid it behind her hair. Now, I somehow had those eyes. A cold sinking feeling settled into my guts as I realized that Ms. Perfect's eyes weren't the only thing of hers that I had. I reached up and touched my hair, which was now a rich dark brown, which could easily be mistaken as black in the right light...just like Ms. Perfect's. And my chest. Even though I'd lost most of my fat over the last week, some of his remained on my chest, which now looked like a small pair of breasts. "I'm turning into her," I whispered, staring at my reflection and seeing other signs, lots of small ones that all added up to one conclusion. "I'm turning into Ms. Perfect..." The idea of turning into a girl...into a fictional character that I'd created...was completely and utterly shocking. I stood there for a moment, trying to absorb this, while also wondering why couldn't I turn into Major Macho instead. After all, he was big, strong, and manly. If I turned into him, at least Dad would be happy, but with Ms. Perfect... I shuddered in dread at what he'd say. When I went back into the living room a minute later, still shaking at this discovery, I saw Dad talking on his cell phone. Without even listening to the conversation, I 'knew' that Marco was on the other end. I didn't know much about Marco, other than that Dad had been working with the guy lately, and that he was probably getting my dad in a lot deeper than he could handle. As soon as Dad ended the call, he stared at me with a hungry expression, one that clearly said that he was seeing me as an 'opportunity' rather than as his son. I didn't need any ESP to tell me that he had some crazy scheme in mind, and that I wasn't going to like it at all. "Marco and I have a plan," he announced, grinning the same way he always did when he thought he was about to make a good score. "And with you and your freaky ass powers, we can pull it off..." -------------------- Reno Nevada, Friday October 12th. I was sitting at a bus stop, with my behind parked on a hard and uncomfortable bench while I watched the building across the street from me. I'd been sitting there for over an hour while several busses had already come and gone. Of course, I wasn't actually waiting on a bus. "I can't believe Dad talked me into this," I grumbled, absently adjusting the sunglasses that hid my eyes and then the baseball cap which covered my dark, shoulder length hair. "Why couldn't Brad do this instead?" Of course, I already knew the answer to that. I was doing this instead of Brad, because I happened to have mutant powers. I'd heard that some kids got rejected by their parents when they manifested as mutants, and I almost wished that I had that problem. Instead, I had a dad who saw me as a golden ticket to easy street, or at least, as a tool he could use for his latest scheme. I scowled as I considered what Dad was up to, and how he'd pulled me right into the middle of it. Unfortunately, Dad wasn't very forthcoming with the details, but I'd picked up enough to have a general idea of what was going on. Apparently, Dad and Marco had come up with a 'brilliant' scheme to 'earn' some easy money. They'd learned about a guy who buys gemstones for a chain of jewelry stores, and somehow, they heard that he'd been skimming loose diamonds off the top for years, and that he had them stashed away in his home safe. Dad and Marco waited until this guy was off on some business trip, about two weeks ago, then they broke into his house. Unfortunately, once they found the safe and broke it open, it was almost completely empty. Normally, an empty safe would probably just be considered a major disappointment, but in this case, it was a serious problem. It turns out, Dad and Marco had made a deal with Mr. Harper. Harper had greased a few wheels, helped them get past the security system, and had even giving them the tools they used to open the safe, and in exchange, he was supposed to get more than half the diamonds. Since Dad and Marco didn't think Harper would believe them about the safe being empty, or accept that as an excuse for his not being paid, they'd come up with the fake diamond plan, which only made things worse. "What idiots," I muttered bitterly, wondering how Dad had survived this long. "It's no wonder Mom left his sorry ass." I just wished that Mom had taken me with her when she left. Then again, since she'd died of an overdose less than a year later, it was probably a good thing that she didn't. I'd always known that Dad was involved in a lot of less than legal businesses, but I'd always thought it was more in the line of the occasional con job than in straight out robbery. This time, Dad had gotten himself in a lot deeper than ever before, and was now in over his head. I let out an exasperated sigh, wishing that I could just walk away and let Dad dig himself out of this mess he'd gotten himself into, but that wasn't an option. Unfortunately, Dad had pulled me into the mud with him. I was the one who'd delivered the fake diamonds to Harper, and who had then embarrassed him by escaping, so I seriously doubted that he was going to just let me walk away. My only way out of this mess was to stick with Dad and Marco...and their new plan, which seemed just as hair-brained as the last couple. "Marco is a bad influence on you, Dad," I said with a sigh. Dad used to be smarter than this, or maybe, I was just losing my youthful naivet?. At least, with my new powers, I had a chance of getting out of this mess without either ending up in jail, or with my ass shot off. Of course, if I didn't have these powers, then Dad probably never would have pulled me into it to begin with. Probably. Thinking about my powers brought my thoughts back to the fact that my body was changing, and that I seemed to be turning into Ms. Perfect. At first, the realization that I was turning into a girl had left me shocked and absolutely horrified. What would Dad think? Or Brad? I already had more than enough trouble with people teasing me about being a wimp, so if they found out that I was turning into a girl as well... I shuddered at the thought of what that would mean for me. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn't really scared of turning into a girl. I was scared about what OTHER people would think...and of what they might do to me. I was even more surprised to realize that the idea of turning into Ms. Perfect...excited me. I'd always related to Ms. Perfect a lot more than I had Major Macho, but I'd never imagined that I might turn into her...or that I'd actually be looking forward to it. I was confused by my own emotions, which made no sense to me. What guy in his right mind, would want to turn into a girl? The answer, it seemed, was me. But why? Though I hadn't really wanted to admit it to myself, I'd always envied Ms. Perfect's beauty, grace, and style. On some level, have I always wanted to be her? Have I always wanted to be a girl, and just hadn't realized it? The answer, I was starting to suspect, was yes. Of course, I might be starting to look like Ms. Perfect, but I wasn't actually turning into her. For one thing, there were my powers. Ms. Perfect was absolutely brilliant, an Olympic level athlete, and an expert in numerous different areas, but she didn't actually have any powers. In that way, she was sort of like a female Batman. After discovering that I was a mutant, I'd done a little research online to try learning more about my new powers. It seemed that my teleportation trick was what they called a warper power, and I seemed to have some kind of esper ability as well, though neither of those powers seemed very powerful. However, I suspected that I might also be an exemplar, which was why I was starting to look like Ms. Perfect. I let out a deep sigh, still afraid of what Dad would say once he realized how I was changing. So far, he was so distracted by what my powers could do for his schemes, that he barely seemed to even notice. However, once this whole situation was done with, I was sure that there'd be questions, ones that I wasn't sure how to answer. After all, I was already starting to look a little girly. "But first," I said, reminding myself why I was there. I stared at the building across the street, knowing that it was almost time. The building that I'd been carefully watching for the last hour was a jewelry store. Specifically, it was the flagship store for a local jewelry store chain, and this particular location acted as something of a distribution center for the whole chain. Or at least, that was what Dad told me. The 'brilliant' plan that Dad and Marco had come up with, was to hit this place and grab a bunch of loose stones. They figured that if they could pull this off, they could pay off Harper and still walk away with a nice score. Of course, I thought the entire plan was sheer idiocy, and the only reason it even had a chance of working was because of my powers. "I can't believe I agreed to go along with this," I grumbled in disgust. Of course, Dad hadn't given me much choice. Not only was he family, but I really wanted to get Harper off my ass. I figured that in this case, Dad was probably right. If we actually did pay Harper what Dad owed him...plus a REALLY nice bonus, he'd be willing to forget the whole thing. Or at least, I hoped that he would. "Come on and hurry up," I muttered impatiently. "My ass is going numb." Then, I saw what I'd been waiting for, as a very plain looking white van parked in front of the store. In spite of its appearance, I'd been told that this van was actually a small armored car, one that was designed to blend in and not be noticed, so that no one would realize that it often carried a lot of jewelry. If what Dad said was right, they were in the process of dropping off some new stones, which would later be put into various settings and then sold. When the van opened, a man climbed out of the back carrying nothing but a briefcase. Most of the time, I probably wouldn't have thought much of the van, the man, or the briefcase, if it wasn't for the fact that there were actually three guards with him. None of them were really dressed like you'd expect of guards, but I 'knew' that they were all armed, and that they were keeping a close eye in case anyone tried anything. My cell phone rang, and when I answered, Dad immediately said, "We're getting in place now. You know what to do." "Yeah," I responded with a scowl, standing up as I did so. "I know." Then I paused, having a faint sense that something was wrong, though I didn't know what. I slowly looked around, not seeing anything at first, but after a few seconds, I saw a woman further down the sidewalk. She didn't stand out in any way, but I 'knew' that she had powers. Somehow, I must have picked up on that. I glanced back towards the building, and saw the guards stepping out the front door and then locking a metal gate over the whole thing. According to Dad, this was part of their procedure, that they'd shut the store down until they had the new materials secure in the back. However, once they had the store locked up, the guards were already getting back into the van and leaving. "You're up," Dad told me over the phone. "I don't think this is a good idea," I responded, looking back in the direction of the woman, who'd moved on. "I think..." "I don't care what you think," Dad snapped. "Do your job." With that, the call went dead. For a moment, I just glared at my phone, thinking of all sorts of clever things I should have told Dad before he hung up, but it was too late now. Instead, I just muttered a quiet profanity, then prepared to do my part. I already had on a hat and sunglasses, so I put on one of those cheap and disposable respirator masks that Dad bought from the hardware store for a couple bucks. Once I was ready, I made my move. Late yesterday afternoon, when the store had been at its busiest, I went inside and looked around, blending in with the crowd as I took note of where every security camera was. I also left an anchor, right in a corner spot where none of the cameras could see. With a feeling of intense worry, I reached into my backpack, pulled out two smoke grenades that Dad had given me, and then I mentally tugged on my tether. As soon as I appeared in the jewelry store, I noted that there were only two other people, and one of them was the man with the briefcase. However, I immediately threw the smoke bombs, before they even realized that I was there, then I ran for the door and unlocked it. A second later, Dad and Marco burst into the shop, while I ran out. The idea was that after I'd done my part, I would haul ass and get away from there, only meeting up with Dad again back at the apartment. I hadn't gone very far before Dad and Marco rushed back out of the store, briefcase in hand. I paused, turning back to watch them for several seconds when I had another bad feeling. Before I could figure out what was setting off this bad feeling, she appeared. A flying woman dropped from the sky and hovered several feet in the air, with what looked like a small tornado swirling around her. She had well-tanned skin and black hair, though I couldn't make out her features because she had a dark blue mask over half her face. She wore a costume that was dark blue and white, and which had webbed wings along her arms and side, like one of those flying suits that adrenaline junkies sometimes used to glide. "Windswept," I exclaimed, recognizing one of the local superheroes. And what was more, I realized that she was also the same woman I'd seen right before the robbery. "No wonder I had a bad feeling about this..." I froze where I was for a moment, not sure what to do. I couldn't just run away and leave Dad there. Well, actually I could, but that would create all sorts of other problems. On the other hand, I might have powers, but I was pretty sure that they wouldn't do much good against a real superhero. Being able to teleport away from trouble didn't mean that I was a match for her. Before I could think of what to do, a massive gust of wind came out of nowhere and hit Dad and his partner, sending them both flying back to slam into the wall of the jewelry store. The wind was still blowing, pinning them in place. Windswept was gesturing towards them, obviously controlling the wind, though she had an almost bored look on her face. I guess a couple of small time crooks weren't nearly as exciting to deal with as a supervillain. I stared at Windswept, afraid that she'd notice me and come after me next. I really wanted to just turn and run away before that could happen, but that would mean abandoning Dad. "What would Major Macho do?" I asked myself, before realizing that was the wrong question. "What would Ms. Perfect do?" Ms. Perfect would probably send some disposable minions after Windswept to keep her distracted while she got away with whatever it was that she was really after. That might work, if I had a bunch of disposable minions. Unfortunately, all I had was myself. "Damn," I muttered with a wince. "I must be crazy." With that, I set an anchor, then started running right towards Windswept, making sure that my breather mask was still on. She saw me coming and turned to look at me, so I flipped her off, then started running in another direction. "Stop where you are," Windswept ordered, sending a gust of wind at me. Normally, this blast of wind would have been enough to knock me over, but ever since I'd manifested, I'd become much more athletic. I was able to add an extra burst of speed and get out of range of the wind. I was afraid of getting caught, but to my surprise, I actually felt a strange sense of excitement at this. I glanced back, seeing that Windswept had begun to fly after me, turning her back on Dad and Marco, which was exactly what I'd wanted. "You'll never catch me," I called back, sliding across the hood of a parked car and then ducking down behind it right before another blast of wind hit. I peeked my head around the corner of the car, seeing that Dad and Marco were taking advantage of the opportunity to run. Unfortunately, Windswept took advantage of my distraction to come around the car. "Surrender now," she commanded, making me let out a squeak and try running. A blast of wind sent me flying, where I landed face first on the ground. "You are under arrest..." "For what crime?" I asked her with a grin she couldn't see. "As far as I know, it isn't illegal to flip off some showoff with delusions of grandeur..." Of course, I didn't know if she'd actually seen me running out of the jewelry store or not, but it didn't hurt to play innocent. Windswept hesitated for just a moment, but it was enough for me to scramble to my feet and begin running again. Once again, a massive blast of wind hit me, and then kept swirling around me like some kind of miniature tornado, pinning me to the ground. "What are you up to?" Windswept demanded. I just smiled, unable to move much because of the wind, though in spite of that, I wasn't really concerned. Instead, I gave a mental tug on my tether, and suddenly, I was back where I started. Before Windswept could locate me, I went back to the original plan, and hauled ass out of the area as fast as I could. -------------------- Reno Nevada, Saturday October 13th. I was sitting at the desk in my bedroom, hunched over a sheet of paper and focusing intently on my drawing. I wasn't actually working on my comic, just a few doodles and character sketches. At that moment, I probably would have seemed calm to anyone watching, but the truth was, I was extremely worried. Yesterday, I'd fought a superhero. I must have been out of my mind, because the idea of me fighting a superhero, even a lower level one like Windswept, was completely and utterly ludicrous. Sure, I went in knowing that I had an escape route ready, but I still must have been crazy. "And I actually got away with it too," I reminded myself, though that didn't make me feel much better. I kept expecting Windswept or the cops to suddenly show up to arrest me. In fact, when the wind had picked up last night, I'd been certain it was because of Windswept, and I'd spent half the night peeking out my window for a glimpse of her. Of course, the cops and heroes weren't my only worries, and not even my biggest one. That belonged to Harper, who hopefully, wouldn't be a problem for much longer. Dad had been gone all morning, taking the diamonds to Harper in order to apologize for the 'misunderstanding'. I was worried about Dad, because he'd gone into the lion's den, and if Harper didn't accept his apology, then there was a good chance that he wouldn't be coming back. With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes and tried using my weird ESP power to tell me how Dad was doing, but that didn't do any good. Unfortunately, my power didn't seem to work like that. Instead, I just seemed to get odd bits of information about the people and things around me, especially when they might be dangerous. After a minute, I let out another sigh, then thought about the other thing that had me concerned. I cautiously poked at my chest, which had become swollen enough that my budding breasts were now noticeable as such. They still weren't very large, but they were enough to give away the fact that I was turning into a girl to anyone who paid attention. There were other changes too, which were growing more obvious. If this continued, then I wouldn't be able to hide this from Dad for much longer. Maybe another week at most. "Maybe if I wrap them up with bandages," I mused, holding my small breasts with a strange mixture of eagerness and worry. A growing part of me wanted them to be bigger, yet another part was afraid of the change and wanted it to stop. That just made me think of Little Mikey, who was also undergoing his own opposite change. Little Mikey was noticeably smaller than he used to be, and I was pretty sure that my balls were starting to pull up inside of me. I had no idea how long it would take to fully turn into a girl down there, but every time I teleported, I seemed to change a little more. "I should stop teleporting," I told myself, thinking that this would make it easier to hide my changes from Dad. However, I also felt the temptation to go out and teleport as much as I could in order to speed things along. It was enough to make me shake my head in frustration. "I should probably break the news to Dad first." Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on my door, followed by the door flying open. I jumped at that, momentarily afraid that the cops had come for me. But then, I saw that it was only Brad and let out a sigh of relief. "Dad told me to take care of the laundry before he left," Brad announced. "So go take care of it..." "I did the laundry the last two times," I reminded my brother with a scowl. "And I did dishes last night..." "Well whoopety fuckin doo," he responded with a roll of his eyes. "You get freaky eyes, and now you think you're too good to do your chores..." "You mean YOUR chores," I pointed out, trying to keep the smile off my face. Brad glared at me and cracked his knuckles, but at the moment, it was more to make a point than a real threat. The truth was, we were in the middle of a negotiation, and this was his traditional opening tactic. "I fought a superhero yesterday," I commented, acting almost as though it was no big deal. "And not only did I help Dad on his big job, but I also helped him stay out of jail. Now, whose side do you think he's going to take when he gets home?" "Fine," Brad snapped in annoyance. "Five bucks..." I made a show of thinking about it, then shook my head. "Ten bucks, and I'll take care of dishes for the next three days too..." Brad glared at me for a moment before nodding agreement. "Deal." A few seconds later, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the money and slapped it down on top of my dresser. "Get a damn haircut," he abruptly told me as he turned to leave. "You're star