/ You're so cool. / It makes me hate you so much.

"Did you just—"

Miles didn't have a chance to finish his sentence as I caught his wrist and dragged him through confused, scared party goers who were now turning the flashlights on their phones all the way to the kitchen and through the back door. It wasn't until we were alone in the backyard that I let go of my grip.

"Xy, what did you do? I mean, how did you do it?" Despite his confused look, I could sense a hint of fear in his eyes.

Even though I knew that there was no point in denying it but I tried it anyway and hoped that he would see the logic and forget that magical stuff was real — which was a hard thing to do considering he was a supernatural being himself.

"What are you talking about?" I attempted to sound appalled. "I didn't do anything. You were with me there. Moreover, I couldn't. I'm just a normal human being, remember?"

Just to be on the safe side, I put my hands inside the pocket of my jeans because clearly, this power was not controllable right now. I had to find a way to control it so something like this wouldn't happen again. Gosh, I really needed Eros. Whether he was lying to me or not, deep down I knew that Eros meant well and now that I'd seen him without his memory, I could tell that something ominous must have fallen upon him and Ares.

"But I saw it." Miles grabbed my arm and pulled it out of my pocket. "I saw your hands had these red lights on."

He turned my palm, but right now, without me using the power (or the power somehow wielding itself), there was nothing on my palm — thankfully.

"I swear there was something." He eyed my other hand, which was still stuck inside my pocket.

I pulled it out and laid it in the open. "There is nothing," I said, pretending to be as confused as he was. I wasn't a good actor. I wasn't sure I would pull it off. Eros could probably tell that I was lying, since he'd known me for longer than ten years. But Miles hadn't, so I was hoping that he wouldn't be able to tell. "Maybe you drank too much."

"I didn't drink."

Shit. I had completely forgotten that he had only drunk a can of Coke and been a responsible driver tonight. "Okay, but there must be a logical explanation for this. The electricity power rose up and blasted the bulb. I don't know, but there must be a reason. And I can tell you that it's not me."

"I would believe that if I wasn't a werewolf," he muttered with a sigh. "But I am. I know magic does exist, Xy. We can go and visit our neighbor in the East and I can assure you that they can do more than blast all the surrounding bulbs." He gave me a pointed look and waited for me to counter his argument.

"Just because they can, that doesn't mean that I can do it too," I argued. "Miles, come on. Are you seriously accusing me? Why would I explode the bulbs? And for what?"

His eyes were locked on me, his eyes narrowing and I could tell that he was still suspicious, even though he had trouble answering any of my questions. But I needed him to let me off the hook completely. He and I worked together in Bean There Done That and the last thing I wanted was for him to keep a close eye on me. I knew I wouldn't use my power at work, but this power seemed uncontrollable and I couldn't guarantee that what had happened here wouldn't happen again.

With a calm breath, I made the choice to take advantage of his silly crush on me by stepping closer and closing the gap between us. I could vaguely hear his sharp intake of breath and saw his eyes widen infinitesimally, almost unseen, but I was paying very close attention to him. I lifted my hand, the one that he wasn't holding, and touched the side of his head. My thumb caressed the spot above his ear.

"I didn't do anything, Miles." I was trying hard to mimic the puppy-eyed look that Dav could pull whenever she needed help. "You know it's impossible, right?" I maintained an innocent expression as I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not a supernatural being. I couldn't possibly do that."

"But your dad is, and who knows, maybe your mum—" Whatever he was about to say was cut off and at the same time, his eyes turned blank. It was as if he saw a ghost or something. I realized too late that my hand was oozing the red smoke. It went from my palm into Miles's head. Even though I quickly withdrew my hand, it seemed that the damage had been done, nonetheless.

Miles blinked, and he returned to normal. Except that the next second, he started to reiterate what I'd just said. "You didn't do anything. It's impossible. You're not a supernatural being. You couldn't possibly do that." He blinked again. Twice. Then he smiled. "Hey, do you want something to drink? I think we could sneak into the kitchen and grab some."

What took place a minute ago had me still in disbelief. Had I just manipulated Miles's mind? Reprogrammed what he had in mind? Was this one of the abilities that my superpower could do? The more I thought about it, the more I was scared of this power, especially the fact that it had — once again — done something without me consciously wielding it. What if I accidentally hurt someone even though I didn't mean to?

Then something hit me. Hard. What if this was exactly what had happened ten years ago? My heart hurt. Had I truly killed my mother? I knew I hadn't believed it before, and it had been easier to think that I couldn't do it because, just like what Ryker had once said, I had only been eight years old and I was just a normal human kid. Yet this recent discovery about the whole superpower thing ultimately changed everything. With such uncontrollable power, it was possible that I'd killed my mother, although perhaps unconsciously. Still, it didn't make me feel any better.

I felt nauseous. All of a sudden, I had the urge to throw up. A warm hand touched my arm, and I looked up to meet Miles's bright eyes. I quickly stopped my train of thoughts and boxed it at the back of my mind for later.

"Hey, are you okay?" His eyes were filled with concern. "Maybe we should get you home. You don't look good, Xy." He went and patted my shoulder before dropping his hand. "We could get dinner first, then I could drive you home."

"No." I shook my head and gave him a convincing smile. "I need to grab my bike. Besides, I don't want your sister to see us. I really don't want any trouble."

Miles frowned, then surprised me by saying, "She won't. She's still being held in the dungeon. Besides, you were drunk just now. I would be worried if you're gonna ride your motorcycle home."

I rolled my eyes. "I am not drunk."

"And that's what most drunk people said." Miles grinned. "We could put your motorcycle in my place here in the Center and then take it after work tomorrow."

"I'll need my motorcycle to go to work tomorrow. I'll be working eleven hours tomorrow from six thirty to five thirty. The bus won't be available that early in the morning." I crossed my arms and wrapped myself. It was quite chilly here. I glanced at my phone and noted that it was already ten pm.

"I can pick you up tomorrow," Miles offered.

"But you're not working the morning shift tomorrow." I frowned, recalling the schedule that Lukas had stuck on the wall and sent it to our group chat this afternoon. Caleb was the barista who would be working with me tomorrow, but he would come at seven since I'd be the one doing the opening. The cafe would open at seven fifteen.

"Well, I can help you. I mean you haven't done an opening before. The reason Lukas asked you to do it tomorrow was probably because he knew I would come and help, so I might as well make his wish come true." Miles nudged his head toward the house and said, "Come on. Let's find something decent to eat in the kitchen, then go home."

As we went back inside, I trailed behind him closely. There were candles in the kitchen, but I could see some emergency lights were being placed in the living room where most people were right now. Miles and I managed to find pepperoni pizzas and some tacos in the kitchen. While he was picking up some candles to be placed near us on the dining table. I grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge.

"So how is, um, the goalkeeping business doing?" I asked him between bites, wanting to keep my mind off my own personal dilemma. "Are you good?"

Miles swallowed the piece of pepperoni pizza he was chewing and took a drink before answering me. "I'm decent. It's going well. We practice four days on weekdays and one on the weekends. Although on weekends, we only practice for two or three hours. We do four to six hours a day on weekdays."

"Wow, isn't that what professional players do?" I was amazed. My dad found football (soccer) to be fascinating — although not as fascinating as his love for Moto GP (motorcycle Grand Prix tournament) — so we still watched the FIFA World Cup every five years and I knew a bit about the sport.

Miles nodded, his face was beaming. He looked very excited to talk more about his passion for football. "Yes." Then he preceded by telling me about the team's routines and then went on talking about the practice game that his team had with other university teams now and then. "You should come to my next game. It's next week. We'd be sure to beat Nottingham this time."

"Text me the details and I'll see if I can come," I replied, giving no promises.

"Sure," he nodded. "Be sure to wear something black."

"Why's that?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"Because that's my team's color." He pulled out his cell phone and showed me a bunch of photos of him and his teammates. "And whatever you do, don't wear blue tomorrow or I would pretend I didn't know you."

That cracked me up. "That's your opponent's color, huh? I'll try to remember that."

After we finished off the food, we walked out of the house towards Miles's car. Then we grabbed my motorcycle and brought it to Miles's flat, which wasn't very far from the cafe.

The decision of whether to give him the keys to my motorcycle weighed on me as I gazed at it. I never let anyone borrow my motorcycle, which I nicknamed 'Mocha' even though it was black, not brown.

Miles seemed to notice my reluctance as he shook his head, smiling. "It's fine, Xy. You can keep the keys. I won't use it, anyway."

While we were on our way back to the South, I went through some texts from Ryker asking where I was. It seemed that even though he pretended I didn't exist, he still noticed my absence. I was going to reply to him but at the last second, decided against it and deleted what I'd typed.

I sat back and let out a long, calming breath. I was aware he awaited my return at home and would ask for an explanation, although I was under no obligation to provide one.

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A/N: Soon, what you all are waiting for will be here! ;)