I looked out my family's minivan window as they took off from the hospital and onto the road. I sat in the middle row with Melissa while Emanuel sat in the back with his headphones, blaring loud music from the headset. Melissa poked my muscled biceps, and I jerked away, watching blue light travel down the veins in my forearm.

"What does getting struck by lightning feel like?" Melissa poked my arm again.

"I don't know. Stop poking me, Melissa." I growled, watching her for a moment.

"You mean you don't remember?" I huffed while my father pulled over and stopped the van.

"Melissa, leave Alex alone. He's exhausted," He said. Melissa groaned and turned forward in her seat. Emanuel looked at me as the van screeched back on the road, but I didn't pay him too much attention.

The car pulled into a nearby driveway and halted in front of a decently sized two-story house. Everyone evacuated the vehicle except for me, who was taking my time. Emanuel held back to check on me, sitting in the car with the open door.

"Que pasa, Alex?" he asked. I sighed, slipping off my seatbelt; my hands slid against the door, and sparks flew, barely visible. As I walked with my brother into the house, sliding the car door closed, the car jump-started momentarily. I rolled my eyes again, calling into the home as I wandered inside.

"Did you leave the keys in the ignition again, Dad?" I asked. Blue light trickled down my forearm again, rocking the car and setting off the alarm.

  My father peeked around the corner and clicked the car keys twice. "The keys are right here." He said.

"¿Que?" I shook out the jitters from my body and slammed my back onto the couch, flipping on the TV, but my eyes drew to the window when a bike pulled up into the Lopez driveway, and Mateo, my best friend, rang my doorbell.

"Alex?!" He yelled. I reluctantly stood and walked over to the door, flinging it open, letting Mateo inside before my dad caught him. Great. Just another way to piss off my father. Hopefully, Mateo didn't have any mischievous plots up his sleeve.

"What do you want, Mateo?" I growled.

"I got the money!" He boasted with enthusiasm, pulling his bag back around. I yanked Mateo into the living room.

"You, what?" I yelled.

"I made a bet with someone for three hundred thousand and won! I have the money!" Mateo unzipped his backpack and showed me a bag full of cash and weed. "We're rich, bro!"

"Hold up! You're not handing the money over to Gregory, are you? He's still going to kill us both."

Mateo huffed. "Trust me, Alex. I know what I'm doing."

"That's what got us into this mess," I snapped. Just then, my father extended from the top steps.

"Alex, you're supposed to be resting," He said. My dad glared at Mateo, standing next to me, as my best friend hid the bag of drugs and cash behind his back. "Mateo? What are you doing here? You know Alex is sick."

"Struck by lightning. It was all over the news, Mr. Lopez. I'm surprised he doesn't have superpowers..." Mateo joked with a grin. Little did he know, it gave me powers because that made sense. Not.

My father grunted, "Go home, Mateo."

Mateo pouted, walking around me to the doorway. "I'll text you later, Alex," he said, nodding in my direction. I shot him the old thumbs up, and Mateo walked out the door.

My father stared at me with crossed arms and a scowl. "Mateo is trouble, Alex." I huffed without saying a word. "Go to your room and rest. You were struck by lightning, for God's sake. Promise me you'll get some rest," he finished.

"All right, Dad. I'm going," I groaned, rushing past him up the steps to my room.

∆∆∆

I slumped against his sheets and pulled my phone from my pocket. The screen flickered, damaged from the lightning strike. I grunted, chucking my cell phone into my bean bag chair across the room. White lightning struck the giant bean bag, and I watched it explode with stuffing and pebbles.

"Shit." I examined his hands and then the chair again. "Did I just..." I was silent for a moment, then shot my hand out again. Another bolt of lightning hits my desk lamp, shattering the glass. I chuckled in disbelief and amusement. "Do I have superpowers?" My excitement soon turned into fear, bewildered by my power. "I... I have fucking superpowers." That couldn't have come at a better time. I got superpowers when Gregory wanted Mateo and my head on a stake. How ironic.

Someone knocked outside his doorway before the door creaked open, and Melissa stood there, rolling her eyes at me. I almost panicked, worried she might have witnessed my superpowers, but I soothed myself when I realized she hadn't seen a thing.

"Hey, dork," she teased. "The police brought your bike back, waiting outside to talk with you." I gulped, looked at my hands, then at the doorway.

"Uh..." I panicked, then took a deep breath of air. "Thanks, Mel."

I pulled myself from the bed and walked to my doorway. The door ripped off the hinges as my hand curled around the opening. I stared in disbelief at the door and set it to the side, observing my sister's shocked glance, with a cocked eyebrow, confused and fascinated.

"What kind of milk is Dad feeding you?" she said.

"Que?" I asked, feigning confusion. I set the door down and kept my eyes trained on hers as I walked out of the room past her and raced down the steps.

I opened the front door and was greeted by Sherrif Gabriel Hernandez, the leading Los Angeles police department officer and my best friend's father. His partner stood next to Gabriel, shifting back and forth in place. Off to the side laid my bent and beaten-up bike.

"Good afternoon, Alexander. Are you feeling okay?" Gabriel asked.

  I nodded, playing along. 'Yeah, thanks." I said.

'Did my son come over earlier?"

  I huffed. "Yeah."

Gabriel sighed. "Did you see where he went?"

"Nope." Gabriel and I both sighed in unison. "I'll let you know if he returns."

"All right. Stay safe, Alexander," he said, tipping his hat at me. I pursed my lips, eager to rush to my bedroom.

"Thanks, Sheriff Hernandez."

"Mr. Hernandez," he corrected me. Gabriel saluted me as I silently shut the door. My father appeared behind me, arms crossed over his chest, with a toothbrush in his mouth and half-dressed in business clothes.

"What did you do to your door, Alexander?"

   Nice.

"Did Melissa rat me out?" I asked, rolling my eyes. My father nodded, taking a long, deep silence before pulling the toothbrush from his mouth.

"Que sale de tu sueldo en el Castillo de Castro." he snapped in our native language. I groaned and walked off up the steps. As my father yelled, I raced up the steps. " La próxima vez, no rompa la puerta o la quitaré de las bisagras de forma permanentemente. Gracias." He took one last huff of air before he checked his wristwatch and rushed back up the steps.