❂ Chapter 3 ❂

"Jaxon? Where are you?"

No one talks about it. I guess it's because they would never know. I heard people say what they would do if they had invisibility powers. Some selfish, some pointless, and some messed up ideas. Those are what I've heard. But they don't understand how scary it is. And I don't expect anyone to understand what it's like.

Because if they can't see you, you can't see them. I don't really understand why it's like that. There's this idea with light and photons and it has to hit your eyes. Something like that. That's what google said. I don't understand any of it. But I do understand the fear that comes with being invisible. What comes with being temporarily blind.

"Jaxon?" Mom kept calling for me.

I couldn't reply. If I did, she'd try to find my voice, and then when she wouldn't be able to find me, she'd think she's crazy. It's happened before. I don't want it to happen again. Whenever I lose control of my powers, I stand frozen in place, I take a breather, and I hope, I hope that it stops. That everything goes back to normal. I've always wanted to just be normal.

I've learned ways to calm myself down during these episodes. It's hard. I hated it. I physically closed my eyes and the dark was still there. It never goes away even if I can see, but that's a different dark.

I was going to be late for school. Mrs. Bennit would call me in her office. I can't have that happen again so soon.

I clenched my fists and focused on the nothingness that surrounded me. I opened my eyes and I could see. It's hard to come back too. It's hard.

I quickly gathered my things and headed to where I thought mom was. She wasn't in the kitchen. "Where's mom?" I asked dad.

Dad leaned against the counter. "She already left. She was looking for you. She kept calling you."

I know.

"They're noise canceling," I lied, pointing to my earphones. It was my go-to explanation. "Sorry."

I don't mind lying, it's just inconvenient. You need a good memory to lie properly. And I don't have a good memory. But if I'm consistent, I'm okay.

With dad watching me, I decided to make myself something to eat. I grabbed a spoon and bowl and the cereal. I caught sight of his smile. It's so awkward. There was a need to itch my neck. I chewed the inside of my cheeks. I sat down.

We were quiet. He stayed by the counter and attempted to make himself look busy. Dad doesn't like the quiet.

Since mom no longer was driving me to school, I thought about driving myself in the family car. It should be fine. It's not that long of a drive, anyway.

"Do you want me to drop you off at school?"

"I'll take the family car," I said.

No one uses it other than me now that everyone's away at college or married. I like driving myself to school, anyway. I get to choose the song and control the AC. There's no one to have a conversation with either. I should have someone in the car. To be safer. Sometimes it's better. It's not that long of a drive...it should be fine.

Dad pursed his lip. He seemed to be thinking about something. I stared down at what was left of my breakfast. What's on his mind? I could hear the snap, crackle, and pop coming from the Rice Krispies. I brought the bowl of cereal to my lips and gulped down the remaining. Dad still had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You sure?" He asked me and rubbed the base of his neck.

He's nervous?

A thought occurred to me at that moment. Is this his roundabout way of having us hang out? Dad likes to do that sometimes. He thinks he's being clever and I pretend I don't catch on. It's already awkward as it is. I don't want to make things unbearable.

I walked over to the sink and cleaned my dishes. I dried the dishes and left them on the rack.

"You sure?" I echoed.

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Definitely. It's no problem."

"Okay," I agreed, suppressing a sigh.

Dad is always honest but around me, I find that he has a hard time communicating what exactly he wants to say. Before, it was easy to talk. Now, it's anything but that. I feel like he walks on eggshells around me. I don't like it. I don't think he realizes it. I do.

We entered his cop car. I went to the passenger seat and placed my backpack on my lap. I stared out the window as he turned the car on. I closed my eyes. Here it comes.

"So..." Dad started the conversation. "How's school going?"

"It's going." I shrugged.

"That's good. That's good. That's better than it not going," he joked.

I pressed my lips together, cringed, and nodded. "I guess."

It was silent. From the corner of my eyes, I could see dad tapping his finger on the steering wheel. He doesn't like the quiet. I chewed the insides of my cheeks and broke the silence.

"How's the super drug case going?"

I don't know much about the case myself but both my parents do. Mom as a news anchor gets out information and presents it on TV. Dad as a Sheriff works on the case. As for me, as a student at Skyline High School and as someone with superpowers, I've witnessed some things that had to do with it.

Super drugs. A drug that gives you superpowers for a short amount of time.

"It's going," he said playfully, his finger not tapping, but now dancing against the steering wheel. "But really, it's not going. Superheroes are great and all, but they have no jurisdiction as of now so they're vigilantes. Mayor Zanders is working on some things with that."

Mayor Zanders is Alex's dad. I wonder what he's planning.

"And the super drugs have mostly been taken care of with Blue Gravity stopping the distribution from spreading. But there's a lot to account for and there are still people who have the drugs. It's very possible for it to be duplicated and passed around again."

Dad could talk about a case for as long as someone lets him. I don't mind him talking. As long as all I have to do is listen.

"Don't worry about it," dad assured me and offered me a smile. "We're all making sure to protect the city. You're safe."

"Yeah." I looked straight across at the cars in front of us.

How would dad react if he knew I had powers? Would he still think I'm safe? Would he think he and mom are safe?

"Look's like we're already at school," dad announced as he slowed the car down.

"You can drop me off here," I told him.

He stopped the car near the entrance of the school. I was about ready to get out of the car until dad suddenly stopped me. I turned to him confused.

"I um..." he stammered and looked everywhere but at me. "Wanted to wish you a good day at school. Love you."

I gulped quietly and nodded. "I—" love you too. "—Thanks." It's hard.

He smiled again. I didn't smile back. I couldn't really. It felt strange too. The corners of my lips wouldn't budge.

I fully got out of the car and closed the car door. Dad waved goodbye. With a frown, I watched as he drove off.

❂* ❂ * ❂

Lunch came sooner than expected. I don't like lunch. Just as I told Mrs. Bennit, I started to show up to more classes. Some were fine. Others weren't. But I feel better for trying. My distraction during class times is something I'd never say out loud. Not that it's shameful. It's just private.

Though I'm sure Chad has noticed it. He's very good at noticing things. Patterns and behaviors in people. Reading the room. He knows what to say to get a reaction too. Considering his father, I'm not surprised. It's an unfortunate but undoubtedly helpful skill.

Even now he's caught on to where my eyes keep moving. In that way, it's embarrassing.

"If she doesn't show up to class what makes you think she'll show up for lunch?" Chad asked. He didn't sound curious. I watched him smirk at me. He was teasing me. He must be enjoying this.

She is Alex.

Thankfully I didn't blush. I chewed the inside of my cheeks. I frowned and offered a shrug. Staring at Alex's empty seat in the classroom wasn't the conversation I wanted to have.

We sat down at our table, setting our trays down. I didn't bother making my own lunch. My parents wanted to make me lunch. I flat out refused. I'm sixteen. I compromised with them and we decided that the school's lunch would be best. Not that I eat too much of it. It's an acquired taste. That's what I say.

At our table were Kelly and some of her friends along with some of the basketball players our age. I twisted open my water bottle and listened in on the conversation they were having.

"Well," began Kelly's friend, Bethany, "Between Dark Wonder and Blue Gravity. I'd marry Dark Wonder and kill Blue Gravity."

I held back a judgmental glance at Bethany. To each their own. I guess they're playing a shortened version of Kiss, Marry, Kill into just Marry and Kill since there are only two superheroes to choose from. Table talk at lunchtime is unnecessarily annoying like this. The group plays games, talks about the latest gossip, or complains about something. I like complaining days. It's relatable. This isn't.

Chad and I shared a roll of the eyes but indulged ourselves enough to keep listening.

"Definitely," Naomi, another one of Kelly's friends, agreed. "Did you see that jawline?"

I looked at the reflection of my jawline against my spoon. Not the best reference. Not the best jawline.

"Mhm, I dunno," Kelly piped in. "I think I'd marry Blue Gravity and kill Dark Wonder."

"Same," Chad said, the smirk back on his face. "Dark Wonder is too scary and would totally kill me but if I marry Blue Gravity, I have a feeling he'll be a good guy to stick around with. He's probably the type to cook breakfast."

The girls giggled at that. Some boys nodded in agreement. I felt my lips quirk up just a bit. He had a good point. Dark Wonder is scary. Blue Gravity saved me one time.

"It's also the blue eyes and blonde hair," Kelly addressed as if those details were important to consider. "It's an elite combination."

I nearly chuckled at that. She'd rather marry a superhero who has the same elite combination which her current, I guess past now, crush has. I wonder if she caught the irony. I never knew she had a type. Maybe her type is adjusting. Funny.

Rudy shook his head. "Blue Gravity doesn't seem like the type to go check on the creepy noise after you watch a horror movie. Gonna have to pass and marry Dark Wonder. He'd for sure check on the noise."

"He'd make the noise," I added, stoic, and took a sip of water.

Everyone laughed. The game started to get more elaborate after that. People pointed to evidence of who would be better to kill or marry. Ethics came into the game which I thought was both ironic and too serious.

I left the table during the game as things were heating up. I didn't specifically have anywhere to go. I just wanted a place to breathe before classes would start again. Chad tilted his head forward before I left. His way of goodbye. He understood. He knew.

I walked down the hallway, hands in my pocket fumbling with a rubber band while mindlessly dragging my feet against the waxed floor. I stopped in front of a pinboard. Pinned on we're career fair posters, past midterm schedules, club flyers, and students sticky notes with inappropriate drawings. I read the career fair posters.

I don't want to be a cop like my dad. Or a journalist like my mom. I don't want to do a lot of jobs. But that's all I know. I don't know what I do want to do. The career fairs aren't targeted at sophomores. I go either way. Sometimes I hear about a type of job and think, I can do that. Only to eventually realize that just because I think I can, doesn't mean I can. Lots of these jobs require higher education.

I'm scraping by in high school, I don't want to think about college.

Everyone in my family has gone to college. My older brother Benjamin is in nursing school. It fits him. He was one of the first to notice what was going on with me in middle school. My older sister Emily studied finance and economics. She's good with numbers. She used to help me with math homework. My other older sister, Rory, just started but I think she's studying one of the sciences. I had always been her guinea pig.

My parents are really proud of them. There's always a phone call with each of them. Especially Rory with it being her first year.

I kicked my feet and tapped them against the floor. There's nothing so obvious for me. I looked up at the ceiling. There's time. Right?

Shaking my head, I resumed my walk. I passed the classroom for the next class as the bell rang.

❂* ❂ * ❂

It's journal day today. I hate journal day. I hate every day. That's not actually true. Somedays, days that are unlike today, I like. I don't know what's different about those days. They're the days I'm waiting for.

I entered the coffee shop. I ordered a coffee. I found my seat tucked in the corner of the shop where I'd be sitting by a large window with a view of the sidewalk. It's a good seat. It's good for people watching. When you watch people, the world doesn't exist for you anymore. I like that. It's less lonely. It's a reminder that there's something going on everywhere. That there's someone everywhere. It's a strange comfort to have.

I resent thinking about it, but maybe there's someone for me.

I opened my journal. I flipped through the pages. Some with torn edges. Some with stains. Coffee stains, ink stains, and tear stains. Every page was written with what I hoped was neat handwriting. I focused on the handwriting more than I did then on the content of what's being written. I wanted to be able to read my thoughts later. I wanted to see if something changed in me. I needed that.

So I started by writing today's date. This journal idea wasn't mine. It wasn't mom's or dad's idea either. It was Benjamin. He suggested it to me back in middle school. Benjamin is a good brother. It makes me feel awful.

After writing the date, I immediately wrote down whatever I was thinking of. I wrote about Benjamin. We don't talk too much these days. I never forget about him, I just forget to reach out to him. He reaches out to me. As much as he can. I bet nursing school is rough. I should call him. But I'll forget to. What if I just call him now? I should just call him.

I closed the journal. I took out my phone. I called him.

"Jaxon!" He answered after the third ring. I could hear his smile and I didn't bother fighting my own. He seemed pleasantly surprised. I felt slightly guilty for that.

"Hey."

"What's up?" There were rummaging sounds coming from his end of the phone. It sounded like he was sorting papers. Is he studying for an exam?

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all," he quickly assured me. "This is a very welcome break from midterms."

"How're midterms?"

"We're going places. I'm not sure where exactly and at this point, I can't say I care too much, but we're making moves. That's how I'd describe this midterm season."

I laughed. A low chuckle. He's probably going to get great scores. He always does. I didn't tell him that. I didn't want to add to the pressure of expectations. I know Benjamin isn't a fan of support by praising. Instead, I joked with him. "As long as it's not movement to your grave."

Not the best joke. I understood that after having already said it.

"Well, this place is already hell."

Benjamin is a good person.

"I don't know why you decided to add extra school years into your life."

"It's an end justify the means sort of thing."

"Hm."

"How about you? You just finished midterms, right?"

"They were whatever."

"It's like that then?" He asked in a knowing tone. I could imagine him nodding as he spoke. "And basketball?"

I frowned. "We didn't make it to the champions."

I didn't tell him that it was because of me. He didn't need to know that. I know that enough.

"I'm sorry." I could tell he was. He had nothing to apologize for. Maybe it was for the reminder. "I think I'll be coming home this summer. At least the first half."

"Really?" I brought the phone closer to my ear.

"Yeah, I think I'll do an EMT job around the area. With everything going on where you are, I'd feel much better doing it there. They have enough EMTs where I am anyway."

"Here? Because of the superheroes?"

"Yeah, and dad keeps talking about those super drugs. Sounds scary."

What would Benjamin think if he knew I had superpowers?

"I guess." It is scary. For other reasons.

"What do you think?"

"I don't have an opinion," I told him. "They exist."

"I see what you mean. An opinion doesn't change the reality of it. But you know, Jaxon. Opinions do still mean something. Something exists and there are reactions to it. So then we have to decide how we can all co-exist. Right?"

He was right. He always is. He's smart. He always thinks and it's not overthinking. It's critical thinking. It's different from my thought process. I'm envious.

"This is getting too deep for me."

"Aww, but I'm about to start my Ted Talk."

"Funny." I sounded like I believed the opposite of that.

"Thank you."

I rolled my eyes but found myself with a smile. "I should let you go."

"If you must," Benjamin said with a long-winded dramatic sigh. "I'll have to study for real now."

"Good luck."

"You too."

We ended the call. It felt good to initiate my own phone call. I haven't done that in a while. I opened the journal again, sipped my coffee, and began writing about the week. I wrote about whatever was being kept in my head. It seemed more like a recording of facts than a detailed reflection of my feelings. Sometimes I note a certain emotion shared in a memory. But I don't like to.

I flipped through the journal and read the entry I wrote of the week before the basketball game. I seemed hopeful. I was hopeful. And I read the entry for the one after I got my powers. I seemed scared. I was scared. Today's entry seemed bleak. Was I bleak today? I looked outside. It was gray. A bleak day.

"Can I sit here?"

Tired, I dragged my eyes away from the window. There was a man. He sat down across from me before I could give him an answer. I raised my eyebrows. What was the point of asking if he wasn't planning on listening anyway?

He wore a brown leather jacket. Something out of a movie. He had neat combed back brown hair. Still looking like a character in some movie. By his ear was a pencil. In his hands was a leather bag. The only reason I gave him this much attention was because he was staring directly at me.

A chill ran through my spine. A warning. His gaze was dark. Green eyes that stuck out, rounded with gaunt features for the rest of his face. High cheekbones, sharp jawline. I could imagine Kelly's friends thinking he's handsome. I thought he was creepy.

"You can have the whole table," I told him, getting up and I began gathering my things. I don't like sitting with others that I hardly know.

"No, please don't go." His voice was like silk. I felt as if he had it wrapped around my neck. Something suffocating. Was I being paranoid? "I didn't mean for you to leave. It's just so crowded here."

I looked around. It was not at all crowded. I frowned, uncomfortable. Still, I sat back down. The man ignored my presence and took out a bunch of files. I snuck glances every now and then but didn't over-exert myself in trying to understand this stranger. Maybe he's a lawyer and likes the window seat like I do.

I put away my journal in my backpack and drank the rest of my coffee. I stood up to leave. But before I could leave the table, the man suddenly spoke up.

"Jaxon Dominic," he said.

My heart stopped. I stood there and in a slow and eerily calm voice I asked, "How do you know my name?"

I rushed into search mode. It's something dad told me about in passing conversations. The cross check of evidence in front of you so that you can make a reasonable theory on what is going on. Immediately, I saw opened up file folders. Photographs of me and my family were spread across the table. There were sheets with numbers and other details that I couldn't make out. But that didn't matter because there were photographs of me and my family in the hands of a stranger.

"I know everything about you."

"Who are—"

"Like how you have powers."

"How do—"

He looked back at me, a slow smirk growing in his expression. "And how you're going to use them for me."

I'll say this one last time. This isn't a superhero story. So if that's what you're looking for, really, just stop reading now. This is the last time I'll remind you—you're not going to like where this goes.