Turnabout

by Melissa Wong

  “You know, it is strange that none of us go to Clarion Heights,” Sable commented. ”Hey, it says here Tana Claravon hasn’t posted to Me-Gram in almost two weeks now. I thought the party was for her—and why is she listed as being eighteen now? She was fifteen a week ago!”

  “It’s a fake profile—don’t expect them to be honest,” Ryan said with a dry laugh.

  “Tana just makes more sense as the birthday girl!” Melissa exclaimed. “Maybe Cretora killed her for failing to get rid of us too many times? She did seem like she had a short temper...”

  “Nah. According to Cretora—I mean, Christina Claravon’s—account on Me-Gram,” Sable snickered, “Tana is—ew, make out pic—Tana is suffering from exhaustion and is taking a break from social media while recovering at a spa outside of the country.”

  “Dude, that’s famous people code for being in rehab!” Ryan guffawed, “So aliens come to Earth and get defeated by cocaine or some shit? Gotta live that celebrity lifestyle to the max.”

  “While she was heavily into the lifestyle as evidenced on her accounts,” Sara said, “She didn’t exhibit any classic, tell-tale signs of addiction. I think the fashionista-slash-influencer front was simply that—a front and nothing more.”

  “Geez... I’m a little concerned for her now,” Sable said quietly.

  “What? You’re worried about the alien that’s been trying to murder us?” Ryan exclaimed.

  Sara shushed him. “Secret identities, remember? You’ll give us away yelling like that.”

  “Well, they’re not going to be secret for long if Chesty McTitty already knows what schools we all go to!”

  “How many boob-based nicknames are you gonna give her, Ryan?” Melissa asked with a sigh.

  “As many as I can! Have you seen those things?” Ryan declared.

  “Ryan...” came a dangerously low voice from that end of the call.

  “What are you jealous? Yours are—” he was cut off by a static clatter as the phone was dropped, and the sounds of someone getting smacked echoed through the line. “I was gonna say yours are better because more than a handful is—”

  Ryan yelped as Sara went after him again, and Melissa had to mute her end because she was giggling like an idiot.

  “Man, shut up already...” Sable said, causing her to laugh even harder, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Ryan had that coming. With interest!

  The line fell silent except for some shuffling in the background, and once she got herself back under control, she rejoined the conversation.

  “So we can safely assume this party is a trap of some sort, right?” Melissa asked.

  “I dunno how safe a trap can be, but it seems that way,” Sable said.

  Sara picked her phone back up. “I wonder if they’re going to try and figure out who we are at the party.”

  “Well, it’s formal attire so we’ll be dressed up. I know there is a charm that prevents people from noticing our medallions, but let’s not wear them out in the open,” Melissa said. “They’re a dead giveaway to anyone who knows about them. We can bring them, but keep them in clutches or something.”

  “Ugh, I hate those stupid tiny purses! I’ll just put mine in my bra or something!” Sable complained.

  “Formal attire indicates that the boys will be wearing tuxedos, so they can wear their medallions underneath their dress shirts,” Sara added.

  “Aw man, tuxedos?” Ryan whined. “I dunno if—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sara said quietly.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, so let’s try to find each other quickly once we arrive,” Melissa said, “Otherwise if we stay apart, I feel like we’re sitting ducks—cats—whatever.”

  At the word cat, Tiki jumped beside her on the couch, purring.

  “Got it,” Sable said, “But I’ve gotta go now. Luke’s gonna be home soon and I still have to fill these things.”

  “The cream puffs?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You’re bringing some to school tomorrow, right? To share? With your beloved leader?”

  “If there are any left after my mom gets a hold of them!” Sable snorted.

  “Hide them. Or at least, hide me some!” Melissa whined. She was only semi-serious, but it felt like the call would be better ended on a higher note than when they entered it. After all, wasn’t that what leaders did—bolstered their teammates’ spirits during difficult times?

  “Man, suddenly I miss having Sable at Twin Tides,” Ryan lamented. “She used to bring us homemade treats!”

  “Anyway, we should go now,” Sara said. There was a scrabbling sound on the line, and Ryan yelled from far away, “I thought you were gonna hit me again!”

  “Okay. Take care, everyone. See you at the party,” Melissa said, before hanging up. Tiki climbed in her lap, kneading away at the legs of her jeans.

  “Hey AJ!” she bellowed. There was stomping, then the sound of her brother’s door opening.

  “What?” he asked, yelling back down the stairs.

  “The party is probably a trap, but we’re gonna go anyway!”

  “Okay, cool!” he replied, going back into his room with yet another slam of his door.

  Melissa pet her cat as she opened the streaming app on her phone, looking for the new episode of her show. She heard the door open, and AJ’s voice came back down the stairs again.

  “Did you tell the others?”

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “Even Cobalt?” he asked, a taunting tone to his voice.

  “Shit!” she swore, switching over to her messaging app. She clicked on her conversation with Cobalt, the last message of which was him asking why she wasn’t replying. It was dated almost four months ago, and she stared at it in contempt. He would see that again, and be reminded of the drama between them. Great.

  This whole thing was dredging up unpleasant memories. Having him on the team was just as awkward as she’d envisioned it being when she first saw his medallion. But... he was still her teammate, and he needed to know the plan.

  She sighed, and began typing out a long, detailed text.

  Chapter 3

  Turning Tides

  “I can’t believe we have detention again,” Ryan sighed, draping himself over the desk as he glared at his friend Mike. “Because you couldn’t stop giggling like a little girl.”

  “That substitute got so pissed though,” Mike said with a grin, leaning his chair back on two legs, “I couldn’t help it! It’s like she doesn’t know remote control apps exist.”

  “Yeah, but you could’ve been more subtle. Put a book in front of your face or something next time!”

  “Other people were laughing—it wasn’t just me!”

  “Yeah, but you looked guilty as fuck.”

  “No way! I have a completely innocent face,” Mike said, pointing at himself. “Like an angel.”

  “You have a face like this,” Ryan said, pulling down his lower eyelids as he crossed his eyes and tried to lick his nose.”

  “Yeah, and I bet you think about it at night when you’re—”

  Mike was cut off by the classroom door opening, a math teacher pushing Maria through it.

  “Here’s the token female member of your little band of delinquents,” he snapped, pointing at the back of the room. “Sit back there and don’t talk. Mr. Woolridge will be here to supervise you in two minutes. If I hear a peep from this room, it’s suspensions for all three of you, got it?”

  The door closed with a heavy thud that Ryan likened to a jail cell slamming shut. As soon as it did, Maria jumped up from her seat and stormed over to the teacher’s desk.

  “Token female,” she scoffed, rummaging through the drawers, “Please be more of a pendejo, Mr. Bowman!”

  Teachers tended to exclude Sara as a part of their group, often referring to them as a trio. It was the same with Sable when she had been there; they were overlooked because they got good grades and stayed out of tr
ouble.

  “What happened to you? They tell you your skirt is too short again?” Mike commented, pointing at the regulation-length skirt she was now wearing. At lunch the skirt had been hemmed over her knees.

  “I can’t walk in this stupid thing,” she said. “It’s like the school is trapped in the olden days or some shit!”

  “Ye olde schoole,” Ryan said dramatically, earning a snicker from his friend.

  “Don’t you dare show your ankles!” Mike added in a prim falsetto, “That would be scandalous!”

  “Man, it always seems to be Mr. Bowman that busts you for your skirt,” Ryan said. “Everyone else just gave up on saying anything it seems.”

  Maria straightened and slammed the drawer shut, a pair of scissors in her hand and a downright wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “Maybe the sight of your exposed legs turns him on, and he can’t teach with his raging old man boner,” Mike said.

  “That’s fucking gross, Mike!” Maria cried, “Besides, it’s not even that much shorter—I just cut it above the damn knee!”

  “Simply scandalous!” Ryan gasped, putting a hand to his head as though he might faint. Both he and Mike burst out laughing.

  “That’s it—this time, I’ll show that perv what short looks like!”

  Maria put blades to cloth, bright blue pleats falling to the floor like leaves from a furious tree.

  “Make sure you leave enough to cover your ass at least,” Mike warned as he watched her work.

  “What do you care, Michael?” she growled.

  “Heh, she full-named you,” Ryan said with a snort. Mike glared at him, and he realized he cared a bit more than he was letting on. Why did he care? He got to look at her legs, right? It was a win for him!

  “There!” Maria announced, tying a knot in her uniform shirt to turn it into a crop top again. “Now it’s comfortable!”

  Mike clapped. “That’s a fierce new look, Maria!”

  “Thank you,” she said haughtily, fluffing her medium-length brown hair. Ryan rolled his eyes at them, and in doing so noticed a shadow in the small security window in the door.

  “Shh!” he hissed, “Teacher alert!”

  The door slammed open, and a female teacher he was unfamiliar with stood in the doorway, the fluorescent lighting making her white hair seem to glow. His eyes were drawn down the lapels of her striped suit jacket, the cleavage found at their overlap impossible to ignore. Had he... had he seen those breasts before? They looked strangely familiar.

  “I heard there were students in detention here,” the woman said salaciously, “Bad students.”

  Ryan leapt to his feet, fists clenched. It was Vetrina!

  “You’re not Mr. Woolridge!” Maria declared, hands on her hips. Vetrina looked her over with a half-lidded gaze.

  “I like you,” she said, grinning. “You’ll make excellent thralls, all three of you!”

  She pulled a slender crystal from her chest, and Ryan panicked as he watched her hold it out over the palm of her hand. Was he supposed to transform in front of Mike and Maria? They were supposed to be guarding their identities! Should he run off, transform, then come back? Could he fight her in this form, maybe?

  “That’s odd,” Vetrina said to him, her schoolteacher guise fading away to reveal her usual outfit, “I can’t seem to get a reading on you.”

  “I...” Ryan hesitated, trying to think.

  “No matter—you humans all have a little darkness inside you, and that’s all I need,” she continued. “Changeling Crystal of Petroia, facets true and dark—lend me your transformative power! Bring forth the darkness within these troubled hearts!”

  “Get down!” Ryan shouted, diving over the teacher's desk as three blasts of black energy shot from the crystal. One struck the wall above his head, causing bits of drywall and plaster to rain down. He got to his knees and peered over the top of the desk to discover that Mike and Maria had not been as lucky as he was.

  They were suspended in midair, their forms shifting rapidly. Maria’s modified school uniform turned into black bikini armor while Mike’s morphed into a pair of black, high-waisted pants and a vest with a collar of black metallic feathers like the ones that had been on the last victim. Maria also had the same feathers, except that hers adorned her hips and chest.

  Vetrina was preoccupied with watching them change, so Ryan reached up, removing his medallion and hoping that no one in the room would recognize him.

  “Feline Mode, Activate!” he whispered, holding his pendant as high as he dared.

  “I missed the third one somehow,” he heard Vetrina grumble as his transformation finished. “Your first orders are to find him.”

  He was surprised to hear Maria laugh in response. “What—are you loca, Lady? I don’t take orders from no one!”

  “Seriously,” Mike chimed in, “Did you think you could walk in here and treat us like your lap dogs?”

  Green Jaguar peeked over the desk again. Had they somehow resisted the curse? No, they looked different now—Maria had a large spear, and Mike was sporting a bow and arrows. They couldn’t possibly be unaffected.

  Vetrina looked momentarily surprised by their defiance, but then her eyes quickly narrowed. “Yes, I did! I am your Mistress, and you will do my bidding!”

  He chose that moment to reveal himself, leaping onto the desk and pointing at the blue-haired alien.

  “Ha! Your plan backfired, Vetrina!” he laughed, “You picked two of the most rebellious students in the school to corrupt! What did you expect?”

  Vetrina grinned and shot a blast of dark energy at him. He dodged it, landing clear across the room.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t one of the kitty cats,” she cooed, “I thought I might find a few of you pests here.”

  “It’s not just Green Jaguar!” Red Panther called out, appearing in the doorway, “Red Panther is here too! Blazing Firewall!”

  The flame attack built in a flash, lashing out at their enemy. She dodged it, landing on top of one of the desks on her toes.

  Red Panther ran over to him. “I came as soon as I could. Are those—?”

  “Evil Mike and Maria? Yeah,” he told her. “She hit them with some kind of magic crystal she claimed could bring out the darkness in their hearts.”

  Vetrina brought her hand to her lips and laughed, a shrill, mocking sound. “Now I know the information I have here is valuable,” she said, holding up a flash drive.

  “Turn it over, Vetrina!” Red Panther shouted. Vetrina proceeded to make a show out of tucking it between her breasts.

  “Minions!” she declared, pointing in their direction, “Get them!”

  Evil Mike and Evil Maria began walking out the door, weapons in hand.

  “Sorry Lady, but this is boring,” Evil Maria said, posing in the doorway as she looked back over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, we’re gonna go see what shit we can get into downtown,” Evil Mike said. They exited the room as both parties watched.

  Green Jaguar and Red Panther looked at one another before turning their eyes to Vetrina, who seemed to be struggling with what to do next.

  “Combination attack?” she suggested, offering her hand. He’d never done one before—could they even perform one? What would happen?

  He placed his hand in hers. Only one way to find out!

  There was a spark of power, and it began to bounce between the two of them, gaining strength as it went. The floor rumbled beneath them as the temperature in the room rose sharply.

  “Volcanic Megathrust!” they cried. The ground split open, long cracks snaking toward Vetrina as white-hot steam poured from them with a scream. It was a wide attack and she was unable to avoid it as it filled the room, slamming her into the back wall with a cry of pain.

  “We got her!” Green Jaguar cried, high-fiving his surprised companion. He looked up to see the other Warriors arrive, their attention immediately drawn to the alien pinned to the wall.

  “Wow, you guys nailed her!” White L
ion declared in awe. “Good job!”

  “I’m not going to sit here and play around with you,” Vetrina said, opening her eyes and slamming her hands into the wall, forcing herself from it with a crunch of plaster, “I have what I need. Those two causing chaos in your city is just a bonus.”

  “Vetrina—surrender now, or we’ll destroy you!” Blue Caracal cried, brandishing the Strobe. Vetrina shook her head and snapped her fingers, vanishing in a burst of black light.

  “Damn it!” Purple Tiger growled.

  “What did she do here?” Blue Caracal asked, surveying the damaged room.

  “She turned our friends evil, just like she did to your friend,” Red Panther told her.

  “Mike and Maria are really unstable,” Green Jaguar said, “Vetrina lost control over them immediately, and they decided to head downtown.”

  “Great,” Pink Ocelot groaned, “I guess we’re going downtown then.”

  Clokua sat with his chin in one hand, watching the files Vetrina had returned with flash by on several screens. There was one open on the left that held one of the blurry images he had captured, and one on the right that was consumed with flickering images of humans. The recognition program combed through them, attempting to find students with similar parameters to the figures on the right. There was a center screen between them where potential matches were being displayed as they were found, and on it were four possible matches for the boy who was Green Jaguar, but only one so far for the girl who had become Red Panther.

  He tapped through them, looking over statistics that served no purpose to him. What was a cah-suh-puh score? Or was it pronounced cas-pi-pi? Either way, none of the males had a high one, whatever it measured. He brought up the female and read over her data.

  “Isabella Greene, age fifteen. GPA two-point-eight, CAASPP score two-thousand five-hundred and seventy-eight. Extracurricular, none. Strikes, none. Notes, none,” he read, zooming in on the girl in the picture.

  It wasn’t her. There were too many factors off—wrong hair style, too tall, too broad-shouldered and not even wearing the same clothing. Both the students that had become Warriors were wearing grey and blue uniforms of some sort beforehand. The computer let out a tone indicating it had found another possible match—this one another girl. The crystal that held Tana was placed on top of the console before him, its edges glowing erratically in the light from the holographic screens as he clicked into her file.