The school was just around the corner when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I felt like completely ignoring Derek and continuing to class, but I stopped anyway to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"What?" I snapped through the phone as soon as I answered.
From the other end of the line, I could hear Derek thrumming his finger against the back of his phone, which annoyed me.

"What do you mean? What the hell was that? I thought I told you to stay put?" The thrumming ceased and he cleared his throat.
"I wanted to help," I said, rolling my eyes and leaning against a nearby tree.

"Unless we ask for it, cops don't really need your help. You could have blown your cover. Dad's going to be pissed once he sees the headlines and hears about this."

"And..."  I snapped back, checking my invisible watch. "Look Derek, I don't have time for this. Maybe we should do this when I come home."

"Did the boy say anything to you about Samual by any chance?" Derek asked me. My ocean eyes widened and flicked around the neighborhood.

"There were two of them," I said aloud, looking down at the buildings below me and adjusting the phone. Derek clicked his tongue in frustration as the tapping continued. "I wonder what they wanted with Sam," I pondered, feeling the wind brush against my ear.

"I have as much information as you do," Derek replied. "But whatever it is, it can't be good. We need to find out, and you need to get to school."

"If only someone would stop calling me while I'm on my way to class," I grumbled in annoyance.

"Don't worry about it, Alpha," Derek said. I rolled my eyes and adjusted my grip on the phone.

"Take care, Derek," I said, ending the call with a button click, and then flew off towards Phoenix High School.

"Don't worry about it, Alpha," Derek said. I rolled my eyes and adjusted my grip on the phone.

"Take care, Derek," I said, ending the call with a button click, and then flew off towards Phoenix High School.

∆∆∆

Once again, I ran late for school. Rushing down the hallway of Phoenix High School, my sneakers squeaked on the polished floor. With each step, I controlled my pace, not triggering my super-speed accidentally. But despite my efforts, I tripped and nearly dropped my papers and books just before reaching my first-period classroom.

Mr. Branden, a middle-aged teacher, lowered his glasses and peered out of the classroom. The other students stared at me as I entered the room and approached Mr. Branden's desk. Laughter erupted from a group of students in the corner where Mark and his friends sat.

"Good morning, Mr. Branden," I greeted him, placing my notebook and papers on an empty desk at the front.

"Mr. Knight, unless you're looking for a detention slip, I advise you to take your seat," Mr. Branden scolded, shuffling papers on his desk.

I sighed, avoiding his disapproving gaze as I hurriedly dropped my homework into a bin. "My brother was driving me again, and we got caught in a police chase. He didn't have time to stop. I have a note," I explained, struggling with my bag and accidentally spilling its contents onto the floor. Mr. Branden, visibly irritated, adjusted his glasses.

I wasn't too happy myself.

"Mr. Knight, that's what the morning bus is for. Final warning," he admonished me while I hurriedly gathered my belongings from the floor and slammed the note onto his desk.

My classmates laughed as I knelt to organize my scattered items, accidentally hitting my head on the desk. Mark Reignson exchanged high-fives with his friend in the background. Mr. Branden eventually quieted the class, and I strolled to an empty seat at the back, sinking into the chair.

"I guess he's supposed to jump out of a moving car in the middle of the chase?" A voice spoke up as my eyebrows rose in shock.

Mark slapped hands with one of his comrades. "I'd pay to see that." Mr. Branden glared at a smirking Mark.

Mia wasn't just anyone. She was Mark's cousin. Whenever I saw her, I had to fight my feelings and hope I didn't start floating in the middle of class.

"Knock it off, Mark. Take your seat, Mr. Knight. You're dismissed." I quickly rushed to my seat in the back and took a deep breath.

A pencil rolled off Mia's desk and ended at my feet. Mia brushed her long blonde hair back and turned towards me, her captivating blue eyes locking with mine—Umm, I panicked???

"Are you going to get that, James?" she purred, her voice laced with mischief. I lost myself in her gaze, momentarily forgetting the classroom was full of people. She smiled, her plump lips curved into a slight grin with the manipulative little lip lick she always did.

"Uh, I... uh," I stammered, feeling embarrassed and nauseous.

"Here's your pencil," I said, my cheeks warming up as I handed it to her, trying to hide the weakness in my hands.

She took the pencil, her lips pressing together. Mark cursed under his breath as Mia returned to her composition notebook, where she began writing what Mr. Branden had written on the whiteboard. I glanced towards the front of the classroom, where Mr. Branden was busy with this week's morning announcements.

"You know," Mia twisted back around in her seat, a mischievous smile on her lips. My eyes widened, surprised that she was talking to me again. "Halloween is in a few weeks. The blood drive will be here soon, and we're looking for helpful recruits to join the team this year." A devilish smile manifested on Mia's lips again as she licked her straight rows of movie star-studded teeth. "You going to answer me, space cadet, or leave me hanging?"

"I-I really can't..." I said, feeling a mix of fear and disappointment. Despite being immune to needles now, I still feared the feeling of something piercing my skin.

"Oh, well," she responded, twisting back to her seat with a hint of disappointment. I mentally kicked myself for giving her the wrong impression.

"Sure, I'll be there," I blurted out, realizing my mistake was too late. I flushed with embarrassment as the class turned to look at me in silence. Satisfied, Mia turned away, and I discreetly cringed at my words.

"This is a classroom, not a free period, Mr. Knight. Keep your voices down," Mr. Branden reprimanded, bringing the class' attention back to him. Mark's side of the room burst into laughter once more. I buried my head in my arms, chewing on my lips in frustration.

Damn it.

"Yes, sir," I responded, lifting my head from the desk. Mr. Branden said nothing more, and the class continued their activities.

∆∆∆

In the quiet cafeteria, faint murmurs echoed throughout the building. I stood alone near the exit, practicing a breathing technique Sam had taught me years ago to regain control of my powers when necessary. I wasn't sure why he thought it would help, considering I wasn't the Incredible Hulk, and anger didn't trigger my abilities. But Sam always seemed to know something I didn't.

Mark sat a few tables away, watching me intently. He was my arch-nemesis and the notorious troublemaker of Phoenix High School. Since sixth grade, he had targeted me with his crude jokes and mean-spirited behavior.

As the son of the police chief, Mark enjoyed special privileges and had the teachers wrapped around his finger for job security. But I knew the real Mark—who wasn't as intimidating as his reputation suggested.

Mark glanced at me from the corner of his eye as he snatched an apple from Mason Jacob's tray. Mason rolled his eyes but avoided confrontation. My phone rang, and I quickly flipped it over on the table to check the new message. It was from Sam, just checking in during the school day, even if it wasn't an emergency.

"You good?" the statement read. I tapped the table gently, contemplating my response.

"Besides my bruised ego, yeah," I replied.

"Ha, too bad your powers don't work on bruised egos," Sam joked.

"Not even funny, Sam," I muttered, accidentally sending him a wink emoji. I facepalmed and powered off my phone after feeling a warm breath on my neck.

"Who are you texting now, Knight?" Mark sneered, leaning over my shoulder.

"Go away," I growled, my frustration building. Mark's eyes darted toward my phone screen, a smirk on his lips. Jocks surrounded me like sharks in an aquarium during feeding, preventing escape routes. They trapped me.

"Was that your uncle? Can't stand that freak," Mark taunted, referring to Sam. "Just like..." I clenched my tray tightly, my fingers digging into the plastic.

"Shut up, Mark," I snapped through gritted teeth, aware that the cafeteria fixed its eyes on us. Mark clicked his tongue and grabbed my shoulder, his grip tight on my collarbone.

"Was that my cousin you were talking to earlier?" Mark leaned against the table, his presence intimidating. My fists tightened even more around the plastic tray. He tilted his head, sucking in a sharp breath.

"I don't think she's your type, honestly," he chuckled. I glanced around, desperately searching for an escape route, but the jocks had me cornered. "What's up with your father? Still, a lowlife who my father should have kicked off the force years ago? And your brother? He's a great cop, but just a dog on a leash." Mark and his friends barked with laughter before I gathered my belongings, pushed past the jocks, and stormed out of the cafeteria, seething with anger.

As I reached the open double doorway, Mark shouted, "Are you forgetting something, freak?"

I turned around, watching Mark wave my phone in the air. His grin widened, and my phone chirped once more. Son of a bitch. I walked back to the table, slamming my bag to the floor, my papers and books scattered across.

"What do you want from me, Mark?" I demanded, panic rising within me. I clenched my fists, struggling to control the urge to let my palm bleed. I lunged for my phone, but Mark snatched it away, holding it high above his head, towering over me.

"Let's see who's texting you," he taunted, pressing the home button to unlock my phone. He swiftly typed in my passcode and scrolled through my messages, searching for the most recent one.

"Oh, look. Daddy Knight is reminding you to take out the trash tonight. Maybe we can help him with that right now," Mark mocked, lowering the phone to my eye level and raising it just out of my reach. "Why don't you jump, Knight?" he jeered.

I leaped, my body almost floating mid-air, but I failed to grab my cell phone. As I frantically darted back and forth, Mark tossed the phone to his friends, playing a hot potato and monkey in the middle game.

"Come on, Knight. You're faster than that, right?" Mark mocked as Gareth, another of his jock friends, tossed my phone at Lucas. It grazed my palm, skidding across the cafeteria floor. Mark's buddies grabbed my arms, holding me firmly before him. "Aren't you going to fetch that, Freak?" he sneered.

My teeth sank into my lower lip, fighting the urge to draw blood. I huffed and dug my fingernails into my palm, feeling the warm sensation of blood trickling from my hand. In an instant, everything changed. I broke free from the jocks' grip, my anger fueling me. I struck Mark with a powerful blow to the face, my knuckles connecting with his mouth.

For a while, Mark had been my nemesis at school. Like every superhero, there's always that one villain we face. However, being in high school added another layer of complexity. Mark seemed untouchable, and even though I aspired to be the hero, my family knew the truth—I was no hero.

Mark didn't flinch at the immediate impact. He wiped the blood from his lips, smearing it across his face as he chuckled. "Thanks, Knight," he whispered. Filled with fury and humiliation, I gathered my scattered books, papers, and pens, snatched my phone from the floor, and stormed out of the cafeteria, knowing I would have to endure a lecture from Sam, Derek, or my father later that evening.