Was it just him or was the world brighter?

He hummed a tune under his breath and grabbed a toast, hurrying off to school. He woke up a bit late; not his fault. Apparently, his alarm was faulty.

But that didn't matter to him.

He waved at the barely awake cops at the gate. The sight of Michael McKing waving at them was enough to wake them up fully. They waved back awkwardly before they talked amongst themselves.

"Did he just wave at us?" the first cop asked astonished.
"I thought I was the only one seeing it," the second cop replied.

Michael was oblivious to their conversation. He had a spring in his step as he walked. For the first time in years, he was excited to go to school. It was a weird foreign feeling but he welcomed it.

Sheila sat at the back of a yellow cab. I Feel Good was playing on the radio rather loudly but she didn't mind. She tapped her foot to the beat and bobbed her head once in a while.

She was running late because she overslept the night before. It's not her fault the alarm had no effect on her.

"This place is fine," she told the cab driver.

He stepped on the brakes and the cab came to a halt. Sheila got down and handed the driver some money. He gave her a mock salute before he drove off.

Crestville High was just around the corner but she wanted to walk there to clear her head. That was why she got down from the cab.

She was trying to understand how a girl barely in her teens would have a crush already. The image of the girl that put the "Kick Me" sign on her back flashed in her mind.

Michael was nice enough to remove it without her 'knowing'. She respected that. He was a good person underneath all his issues.

Yeah, she could tell he had them.

But she couldn't understand why a girl who barely knew him would have a crush on him. They obviously didn't talk so what was it about? It wasn't really her business as long as it didn't interfere with her mission. She walked through the school gate as soon as the bell rang.

"Crap," she thought.

She quickened her steps and made it to class just as Mr. Johnson was about to close the door. Damn, he was fast for an old man. Of course, she didn't buy the whole radioactive explosion story. That was a load of bull.

"Today, we're starting the history of Crestville," Mr. Johnson said in a somewhat bored tone. Collective groans echoed in the classroom. She could understand why. Nobody liked to learn what they already knew. But 'Sheila' didn't know it, did she? She was from 'California'.

One look from Mr. Johnson and the class went silent. He nodded his head as if telling himself he still got it.

"Open your textbooks to the 17th page and start reading. I need to get something in the teacher's lounge," he said before he left the classroom.

Once they confirmed he was out of earshot, the classroom became noisy again. Sheila ignored them and decided to read about the history of Crestville City. She still had to keep her act up, else her cover could be blown. Not that any of the kids were smart enough to blow her cover, but she wasn't taking any chances.

The book read,"Crestville City is the most stand-out city in New Jersey and probably the whole United States of America. It was founded in 1875 by a family from New York. Martin Leslie Graham and his wife, Sarah Kesha Graham owned an inn back at New York called The Crestville Inn. The family had great success, thanks to their warm hospitality and business smarts. After they made a whole lot of money, they packed their things and moved to the calmer suburbs of New Jersey to properly start their family. They bought a very large expanse of land and thrived there, as well. Word of their success got out and more New Yorkers relocated to the so-called haven the Grahams lived in. More and more people came and before they knew it, the place became some sort of city. The Grahams named the city Crestville after their inn. This is also why most people from Crestville City don't have the accent people from New Jersey have."

Sheila looked up from the book and saw some kid doing his best impression of Mr. Johnson. He was actually doing it well; some people already fell off their seats laughing their asses off. The real Mr. Johnson entered the class and they all quietened down and stared at their books, almost like they've been reading all along.

The kid in front of the class didn't know that though, his eyes were closed. He opened his eyes and saw Mr. Johnson smiling sweetly down at him.

At that moment, he knew he was in deep shit.

"Mr. Blake, since you volunteered to teach, by all means, please. Do enlighten us on the history of this great city," Mr. Johnson suggested. Mr. Blake though, seemed to have forgotten his lesson notes because he was sweating bullets.

The wizened teacher finally decided to put him out of his misery. "Back to your seat. And detention for you, young man," he said as he opened his lesson notes.

Sheila couldn't help but smirk as the kid sulked back to his seat.

«»

Michael was still humming the same tune as he waited for his new friend. The cafeteria was filled to the brim as usual, with everyone talking over their food, some with their mouths full. How they could eat that garbage was surprising to him. He could manage the food on Mondays but as the week progressed, the quality of the food reduced drastically.

He sipped his juice box slowly looking around. A flash of burnt orange hair turned his attention to the cafeteria door. She walked in, tray in hand. She was also looking for him.

The thought made him smile to himself. He waved his hand slightly and she noticed him. She could have just looked for the only empty table to find him, he didn't get why she didn't.

"Hey," she said to him as she sat down.

"Hey," he replied a little too quickly.

She rose an eyebrow at this and he cleared his throat. He noticed he was acting desperate and needy. That was unlike him.

"You didn't call," she brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her, puzzled.
"Why would I do that?" he asked.

Immediately, Sheila's brows furrowed and her cheeks puffed up slightly. "You collected my number, dummy. When someone does that, they call," she replied angrily.

Michael was taken aback at this. He only collected her number because he watched someone do it in a movie once. Plus, he didn't have anything else to say at the time. So he decided to go with the flow.

"I-I didn't know. Honest," he told her.

She looked away from him in mock anger; something he noticed.

"I'm not apologizing if that's what you're waiting for."

Sheila face-palmed as soon as he said it. "You can never get a girlfriend with this attitude."

"Who said I was looking for one?", he remarked coyly. Sheila smirked at him.
"You might not be looking, but these 8th grade girls are hunting, man," she told him.

Michael scrunched up his face in revolt. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Sheila laughed at him, banging the table.
"You-you should see your face," she said between laughs.

Instead of looking embarrassed, he snorted and looked away indignantly. Sheila quietened down and silence reigned between them for a while. Getting uncomfortable, Michael looked back at the redhead and found her staring intently at him. This just made him way more uncomfortable.

"Is there something on my face?" he asked guardedly. Sheila shook her head in the negative and kept staring at him. He didn't notice her pick up her spoon. Suddenly, she threw it at him. It connected with his shoulder rather painfully.

"Ow! What was that for?!" he yelled at her angrily. His shoulder was numb at the moment. Sheila covered her face in embarrassment and apologized.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if you could dodge the spoon".

"Well, as you can see, I can't!" he replied, rubbing his now throbbing shoulder. It was probably sore already.

"Then how'd you dodge those balls the other day?"

Sheila's question put him off completely. Things had been so hectic and fast that he had forgotten about the day in gym class when he knocked Kevin Jones out.
Even he couldn't explain how he did it; he just did.

"Um -" he started to say.

Luckily, he was saved by the girl from the day before; the "Kick Me" sign girl. She had on make-up and too much hair product, just like last time. But this time, she came with her crew. And they didn't look happy. She came over to his table and frowned at Sheila.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him," she told Sheila angrily.

Okay? That took him aback. Was she talking about him?

Sheila pretended not to hear her. After a few seconds, she then looked to her side and gasped in mock surprise. "When did you get here?" she asked.

The girl in question turned red in anger. Michael was scared she'd burst if she got angrier. "Stop that!" she blurted out. Her voice was so shrill, it made Michael cringe. But Sheila wasn't done.
"Stop what?" she asked innocently, batting her eyes at the tomato red girl.

Oh boy, she got redder.

Her crew was getting agitated too. "Are you gonna let her talk to you that way, Mindy?" one asked.

So her name was Mindy. That was information he didn't need.

"Do something," another said.

Mindy nodded her head and looked around for something. Her eyes locked on his mashed potatoes and she smirked. He was too slow to react. Mindy quickly grabbed his plate of mashed potatoes and dumped it on Sheila's head. She backed up with a smirk and high-fived her crew. Sheila stood up slowly, her mouth gaping open in shock. Mashed potatoes dripped slowly from her hair, staining her butter colored jacket.

"You did not just do that," she said to Mindy. Was it just him or did Sheila's voice turn scary? Mindy didn't seem to notice, or care.

"I did," she replied in pride, "and there's nothing you can -" She got a face full of mashed potatoes before she could complete her statement, courtesy of Sheila. He couldn't help but snicker slightly.

Her aim was precise.

Mindy gingerly wiped it off her eyes so she should see. "How dare you?" she shrieked. Again, Michael had to cringe. Wow, her voice was piercing.

He could feel the growing agitation in the cafeteria. Everyone had stopped eating and were watching them. Suddenly, a random person jumped on a table and yelled, "Food fight!"

And with that, it was mashed potatoes galore. Everywhere he looked, he saw mashed potatoes flying or connecting with someone.
He caught a glimpse of Sheila still going one on one with Mindy.

"Hey Blondie," he heard someone yell but he paid little attention to it. He was trying to avoid getting hit.

Splat!

He felt the squishy icky mashed potatoes hit his back. He turned around and saw none other than Kevin Jones waving at him. He had a plaster on his big nose and a stupid grin on his face.

"That's what you get for doing this to me," he said, pointing to his nose.

Michael saw a plate of the disgusting food lying at his feet and he didn't hesitate. He quickly threw it at Kevin, splattering all over his black t-shirt. The bully shrugged it off like he was expecting it. Two of his lackeys appeared out of nowhere, armed to the tooth with mashed potatoes. He ducked under a table as they unleashed volleys of the squishy meal at him.

"What's going on here?!" pierced through the noise in the cafeteria. Everyone froze; some trying to run, others about to throw mashed potatoes.

It was Principal Matthews or as they called him behind his back; The Bald Eagle.
Bald because, well, he was bald and eagle because of his vision; weird because he wore glasses. He could sight a bad kid a mile away. Which was why it was surprising that Kevin Jones was still in the school.

He walked calmly through the frozen crowd of students, his brogues clicking on the floor.
"Who started this?" he asked as he got to the middle of the cafeteria.

They all pointed at Sheila and Mindy, who were at the corner of the cafeteria; at least who they thought Sheila and Mindy were. They were both covered to their toes in mashed potatoes, they probably ran out of it because they looked ready to resort to their fists.

Principal Matthews walked over to them and frowned. "Is this true?" Mindy was about to defend herself but she was interrupted. "Detention. Both of you. For two weeks. And you have to clean this mess up," Principal Matthews said, gesturing to the whole cafeteria.

Michael scampered out from under the table and went over to the principal, ignoring the looks he got.

"Principal Matthews, it's not what you think. Sheila's innocent," he said. The principal looked down at him; he was pretty tall, and rose an eyebrow.

"One more word from you, Mr. McKing and you'll be joining them in detention today."

"But it's not fair. Mindy's the one that started everything," Michael continued.

"Mr McKing..." Principal Matthews warned but the blond orphan ignored his warning.

«»

Tick...

Tock...

Tick...

Michael grumbled under his breath as he watched the clock tick. How long would he have to stay here with them? Speaking of them, they were doing their best to glare at each other even though he was sitting between the two girls.

"Would you cut it out? Both of you!" he snapped at them.

"She started it!" they replied in unison.

Michael sighed and sank into his seat. The girls went back to glaring at each other. Sheila stuck out her tongue at Mindy, who did the same in response. They cleaned up as best they could, but chunks of mashed potatoes were stuck in their hair and their clothes had stains of it.

Michael though, was spotless. Almost as if he wasn't in the cafeteria when the food fight happened.

When Mindy got tired of glaring at the redhead girl, it occurred to her that Michael was sitting to her left. She was suddenly self-conscious, trying to fix her already messed up hair as best as she could.

"Hi," she said to him, with a small smile.

He turned to her lazily, looked her over and turned away. Her mouth fell open as she processed the shock. Sheila added insult to injury by laughing her ass off. Mindy could feel the tears forming at the corner of her eyes, so she quickly wiped her eyes. She wouldn't give Michael or the redhead; especially the redhead, the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

They sat in silence, Sheila and Michael were whispering to each other once in a while. There was a kid in front of the class, drawing funny pictures on the board.
There was no teacher in the class so he was free to do whatever he wanted; they all were. Apparently, the boy got in trouble with Mr. Johnson.

Soon, the time winded down and they were free to go home. Mindy was the first to exit the classroom and immediately leave the school. She boarded a cab and sobbed silently in the back.

Michael and Sheila however took their precious time to leave. "Looks like you'll go down in the history books of the school," Michael said as he walked down the stairs leading to the hallway.

"Go down as what?" Sheila asked him.

"The new kid who started a food fight in her first week," he replied with a small smile. Sheila burst out laughing. "Yeah, I am pretty awesome, aren't I?"

"That's not what I meant," Michael told her with an impassive face. Sheila didn't buy it though. They were already out of the school gate. Strangely, no one was passing by at the moment. But they didn't notice.

"Oh really?" Sheila asked.

"Really," he replied.

"Principal Matthews, it's not what you think. Sheila's innocent," Sheila did her best impression of Michael, which wasn't that good, but Michael got the idea.

"Ha-ha. Very funny," he said dryly. Sheila grinned at him though. "You stood up for me. Even though you knew you'd get detention, you still did it. That's how awesome you think I am."

Michael rose an eyebrow. "Or maybe, I didn't want an innocent person to get punished. How 'bout that?" he said. Sheila's grin slowly turned into a frown. "You're impossible," she muttered under her breath.

Michael chuckled a bit before he realized they had been walking aimlessly all the while they were talking. And it seemed like they were somewhat lost.

It was his hometown; sure, but Crestville was a big city and plus, he wasn't an outside person, go figure. Sheila noticed too; if her looking around nervously meant anything.

"Um, Michael?" she started.

"Yeah, I know. We're lost," he told her while looking around for anyone to help them with directions.

He sighted two figures standing at the end of the road. The taller one was pale, pasty and lanky. But what stood out the most was the unpleasant scar across his face, and the other was short, round and pudgy.
"Let's go ask them for directions," he suggested to Sheila who looked skeptical.

"How can't you know where we are?" she asked him lowly as they walked towards the two mysterious figures.
"Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm not an outside person," he whispered back.

Was it just him or was it getting creepier? The houses were broken and abandoned, the trees were without leaves, casting creepy shadows on the ground. Since when did this place become a part of Crestville City? He looked at the two figures, they were coming closer.

Sheila stopped all of a sudden, causing him to stop too. The two figures were still coming closer though, and they were getting faster.
"We need to get out of here," Sheila said to him, her voice suddenly grave. "I know. That's why we're going to ask for directions," he replied her.

"You don't understand. We need to get out of here, because of them," she pointed at the two approaching figures. They could make out that they were both men. "What are you talking about? They're -" The words died down in his throat when he saw one of them holding a gun.

"Follow me! I know a safe place," Sheila all but ordered him. Then she broke out into a sprint in the opposite direction. He did his best to catch up but she was still ahead of him. When did she become so fast? And since when did she know a safe place? They were lost a second ago...

He turned back and saw the two men hot on their tail, and they were getting closer.

"Michael McKing," one called for him.

"We just want to talk," the other completed.

Yeah, right. They just wanted to talk, while holding him at gunpoint. He quickened his strides and soon, he was side by side with Sheila.
"You-you know those guys?" he asked her nervously. She didn't even look like she was under pressure. Her eyes were narrowed as she concentrated on the street before her.

"Not exactly," she replied calmly. She glanced back and then at him. "They're after you, aren't they?" she said.
"I've-I've never seen those men before in my life."

He was freaking out! This was the first time he was experiencing something like that, and all of his composure was out the window. He was scared out of his mind!

"That means you're an evo," Sheila was probably talking to herself. "I'm a what?" Sheila ignored. "Try to keep up," she told him before she accelerated. Michael's eyes widened. She could go faster? He looked back again and saw the men getting closer. The thought of being caught; and maybe killed, pumped adrenaline through his body.

He ran faster than he had ever done in his entire life but Sheila was still ahead of him. She took a hard right and disappeared behind some bushes and trees. Michael did the same but he didn't expect the ground to be so steep. He fell and tumbled down the hillside. Branches slapped his face, causing bruises and cuts, he got a mouthful of dirt and grass. His world was turning upside down.

His head collided with a rock with a loud thump and he slammed into a tree. He could barely keep his eyes open; his head was throbbing badly and his ankle was probably twisted from the fall. He faintly heard the two men yelling at each other before their voices faded. Hopefully, they left because they couldn't find him.

He felt someone shake him and lift him on his or her shoulders. He saw a mop of burnt orange hair and caught a whiff of mashed potatoes.

"Sheila..." he muttered before he succumbed to the bliss of unconsciousness.