by Bryan Cohen
"Can you show us your powers?"
He took in a deep breath as he reached toward his cell phone. "Let's see if it was a 24-hour superhero bug."
He pictured the phone floating to his hand as he suppressed a yawn. The device rose off his bedside table and disconnected from the charger.
"There we go. Nice and easy."
When the phone came within inches of his hand, a huge belly yawn slipped out, and the phone dropped to the carpet.
"Dang it."
He made a second attempt, lifting the phone off the ground and letting it rise upward. When it reached eye level, he used his mind to swipe the screen and take a bedhead selfie.
He laughed when he saw it. "Dhiraj would kill me if I posted that."
While he was tempted, he used his before-school time to do what he figured most famous teens did every day. He searched his own name online.
Ted found countless news stories and a link to the video from Page's. He also read opinion pieces trying to determine if he'd faked the entire operation with the thugs' help. It got darker from there. He scanned multiple blog posts that talked about locking him up until they figured out what he was. They called him a vigilante and a freak. While many social media trends praised his heroism, the other side had gotten over a thousand people to tweet out "#GoHomeAlien." Ted's hands shook on the keyboard.
As he searched, he came upon a much smaller story in the local news.
"Missing Teen Finds Her Way Home"
He held his breath. "Erica is alive."
Ted had hoped and prayed for her safety, but now that fear had been replaced by anxiety.
What if she finds out I helped organize the search parties? Will she care that I cared? Will she care that I’m national news?
The smell of breakfast tore him away from his nervous line of questioning.
Aside from the noise of the gathering pack of reporters outside, breakfast was pretty normal. Ted's mother gave him his usual toaster pastry and glass of orange juice. His father sipped a cup of coffee and read the sports section. His mom sent her daily early morning text to Ted's sister, Christina, who was hundreds of miles away at college. She likely wouldn't return the text for at least three hours, but it was just part of the Finley family routine.
After his mom buttered her toast and sat down, his dad put down his paper. "Ted, we have a few questions we need to ask you about yesterday."
"Alright." Ted’s word barely carried through a mouthful of fruit filling.
"Your father and I need you to be honest with us." His mother took his hand. "And we promise that what you say will stay between the three of us."
Ted washed down his breakfast with the juice and nodded. "You're not going to ask if I'm an alien, right?"
She laughed. "Of course not, honey. We changed enough of your diapers to know that you're as human as they come."
The muscles in Ted's neck relaxed. "Good. Lay ‘em on me."
His father cleared his throat. "Were you struck by a nuclear weapon?"
Ted gave his dad a sideways glance. "No."
Her mother pursed her lips. "Did you inject yourself with a super serum?"
Ted's eyes opened wider. "I've never injected myself with anything."
Mr. Finley took out a pad of paper and crossed out the second of many items. "Were you bitten? Did you put on a glowing ring? Was there a lightning strike?"
"No to all three. Why are you guys asking me all of this?"
His parents shared a look, before his mother smiled awkwardly. "We were trying to find out more about your… condition. So we did some online searching about superheroes. Did you survive a train crash?"
"Mom. Dad." Ted chewed the last bite of his toaster pastry. "I promise that what I've already told you is all I know."
His mother got up from the table to grab him his lunch. "I packed you some extra. I thought you might need more calories like The Flash."
Ted blushed. "Okay."
"Oh, and one more thing." His father tapped a pen on the notepad. "Please text us if you have to miss dinner to fight a supervillain. Your mother will worry otherwise."
Ted prayed for a retroactive secret identity. Or at least a cloak of invisibility.
"Of course. Bye, guys."
Ted took the lunch bag and kissed his mother and father. He closed the door to the garage behind him.
"And I've made my parents go insane."
Ted waited until he was in his car with the doors locked before opening the garage door. After he pulled out, it didn't take long for the reporters to file in and surround his vehicle. Ted blared his favorite classic rock station and pulled onto the lawn. When he realized he didn’t have enough room to escape, he lifted his hand and mentally moved one of the vans a few feed backward. The distraction was just enough for Ted to pull out onto the street and hightail it to school.
Ted expected a madhouse at school as well, but Principal Stoll put a stop to that. He had a makeshift gate set up that only allowed students to enter. All reporters were turned away. The principal was personally supervising the entrance when Ted pulled up. While Principal Stoll wasn't a big man, he was the kind of person who always seemed to have control.
"If it isn't our little hero." Principal Stoll’s tone was a mix of admiration and frustration. "You know, I wasn't even sure who you were until I checked the yearbooks."
Ted nodded. "Thank you, sir. I think."
"No funny business today, Finley. The only powers I want to see are powers of ten in Algebra. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Move along."
Ted pulled into his parking space. While the principal's gate kept out the reporters, it didn't stop his classmates from peppering him with questions. Five students mobbed him as soon as he stepped out of his car.
"Are you going to try out for the football team?"
"Can you read my mind?"
"Did… everything become super? You know what I mean."
Ted had never dreamed of this much attention. He answered each question as honestly as he could for the entire length of the parking lot. The fun didn’t stop when he finally made it through the front door. Of the 1,500 kids in Treasure High, Ted felt like he responded to at least half of them that morning. Those who didn't ask him questions posed for selfies with him. As he approached his locker, he heard the sound of a small object whizzing through the air. Ted turned to see a cell phone flying toward him. He put up his hand to protect himself and the phone flew in the opposite direction, smashing into pieces against a row of lockers.
"My phone!"
Ted recognized the voice of the phone owner as none other than resident bully Jason Torello. He stood right next to his brother Phil and several other kids on the luckier end of the genetic spectrum. Jason pushed through the crowd and walked right up to Ted. Years of torment from the bully and his friends made Ted flinch to be that close to him.
"You little piss-ant!" Jason actually snarled. "You were supposed to make it float."
Ted took a step back until he saw that the entire hallway was focused on the two of them.
He puffed up his chest and looked Jason square in the eyes. "I’m not a trained monkey, Torello. Throw something at my face and you’re not getting it back."
The onlookers laughed. A wave of clapping began and Ted had no idea how to react. He'd never experienced the support of the crowd. The cheers made Ted stand a little straighter. Jason had the opposite reaction.
The bully whispered into Ted's ear. "You're paying for that. Or we're gonna reenact sixth grade."
Ted suppressed his fear. If he could take on a bunch of armed thugs, surely he could fight off Jason Torello. Ted held up his hand, and Jason slid backwards. His sneakers made a squeaking sound as they scuffed against the floor.
Jason’s eyes grew wide as he looked in every direction. "Hey, stop that!"
The mob laughed again, this time directly at Jason, and Ted looked up at their adoring faces. For a split second, he thought he saw Natal
ie among them, but when he focused in, it was someone entirely different. His chest tightened and Jason slid to a stop in his original position.
Ted held up his hands to the crowd. "I'm not paying for the phone you threw at me. What do you think, everyone? Should I have to pay for Jason's phone?"
The resounding "no" made Jason grab his brother and sprint toward the math hallway. Before the Torellos got out of earshot, Ted could hear Jason whisper something under his breath.
"Go home, alien."
The crowd cheered Ted's victory. A few seconds later, the assistant principal dispersed the audience, and Ted opened his locker. Before he could enjoy his triumph, Ted heard a voice on the other side of the locker door.
"Ten million hits."
Ted closed the locker slightly to see Dhiraj standing there with a goofy grin.
"What had 10 million hits? Your podcast?"
Dhiraj moved to the other side of the locker. "I wish. It was TedFinley.com."
Ted gathered up the books for his first two periods and stuffed them in his backpack. "I told you before, I don't need a website."
"That was then. You're a hero, Ted. You had five subscribers to your mailing list before."
"I didn't even know I had a mailing list." Ted shut his locker and started walking.
Dhiraj stopped him with a forearm. "You do. And now you have 30,000 subscribers. We need to figure out what to tell them."
The warning bell echoed throughout the hallway. Everybody around them picked up their pace.
Ted raised an eyebrow. "How about you tell them the same thing I've told all the reporters?"
"What's that?"
"No comment."
Ted felt a familiar set of eyes upon him and stopped moving. He was still a few doors down from his classroom, but he had to see if it was really her. The girl who stared at him had long, beautiful curls and an outfit that barely met school regulations. Her eyes locked with his and everything inside him melted. Ted thought Erica LaPlante looked as good as the day she disappeared. The moment seemed to last for an eternity. After an unknown number of seconds, Erica waved, smiled, and walked in the other direction. Ted continued to stare for a few seconds until Dhiraj pinched his neck.
"Ow." Ted slapped Dhiraj's fingers away.
"What was that all about?"
"I don't know." Ted wasn’t sure how he’d ever slow down his heart rate. "I really don't know."
"Looks like being a hero has its perks."
Ted had superpowers and Erica LaPlante had acknowledged his existence. Now he truly knew that anything was possible.
12
Later that day, Dhiraj pretended to read a book as he watched Jennifer from across the hall. He knew that one of the keys to life was having clear, achievable objectives. From the moment he first saw her in middle school, his top goal was to take Jennifer out on a date. She wasn't like everyone else. She didn't seem to care about popularity or fashion. She didn't pay attention to "likes" and online "friends," and she was loyal, intelligent and a good person. And she had great hair.
He mustered up 30 seconds of courage, walked across the hall, and waited until she locked eyes.
"Hey." His pulse raced.
"Hey, Dhiraj."
Though others thought it was too high and fast, Dhiraj loved the sound of her voice. Particularly when she said his name.
"There's something different about you today."
Even her slight smile was absolutely radiant. "Oh yeah? What is it?"
"You look like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders." Dhiraj put up one hand. "Not that you were heavy before or anything."
Jennifer laughed. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. Dhiraj caught himself staring at the shimmering, dark chocolate strands as they flowed down her neck.
"You know, with Erica back, I do feel a little less on edge. Thanks for noticing."
Dhiraj grinned. "I'm always watching you. I mean, not in a creepy way."
Jennifer closed her locker and motioned for Dhiraj to walk with her. She didn't have to tell him twice.
"It must be hard for guys to hit on girls." Jennifer giggled. "They have to do a lot of talking."
Dhiraj couldn't believe it. Jennifer saw right through him. Then again, given how perceptive she was, perhaps he should have planned more subtly.
"I'm not hitting on you." The hair stood up on the back of his neck. "Perish the thought. It's just casual conversation."
"Uh huh. I'm onto you, money man."
When she touched his shoulder, Dhiraj wondered if his heart might stop. As they turned the corner, he realized they were walking right into gossip central. Flanked on both sides by guys and girls alike, Erica, Jennifer’s promiscuous cousin Winny, and their well-endowed ginger friend Beth, wore devious looks as they no doubt spread false rumors. The others around them hung on every word, trying to be a part of the conversation.
As Jennifer watched Erica, Dhiraj noticed the weight go right back onto her shoulders.
"What's it like having her back?"
She sighed. "Just like old times. Frightening."
Erica looked like your typical TV popular girl. Perfect hair, clothing, and teeth. Before Ted started dating Natalie, Dhiraj told him crushing on Erica was too ordinary. Everybody did it. But Ted said he knew the real her. Maybe Erica used to be kind and compassionate; Dhiraj had never experienced it himself.
"Why so scary?"
"It's impossible to know what she's thinking and if she'll just go and run off again."
Dhiraj tried to put his hand on Jennifer's shoulders. He ended up just patting her backpack. "I'm sure she'll stay put now."
"I appreciate your unwarranted confidence."
Erica spied the two of them and stopped the whisperfest. As she walked over, her harpies followed close behind. Each step was as long as possible, as if she was trying to get guys to look at her legs when she walked. Dhiraj chalked that up as another turnoff. When she reached them, Erica looked him up and down.
She raised her voice for the crowd to hear. "Look at the two of you. When's the engagement party?"
Beth, Winny, and the rest of the popular crew laughed.
Dhiraj’s internal alarm bells were at red alert. He faked a confident smile. "I was just going. Great to see you as always, Jen."
He was about to turn away when Erica grabbed his arm. Dhiraj could smell her light perfume waft over. He had to admit, she smelled pretty good.
"I actually need to talk to you, moneybags."
He'd obtained the nickname "moneybags" during an Intro to Finance project two years ago. The class invested fake money into several different funds over a mock 20-year period. The goal was to grow your funds to a million dollars, but he'd surpassed $10 million.
Dhiraj turned around. "Business or pleasure?"
Jennifer laughed, though she tamped down her reaction when Erica became serious.
"Pleasure, actually. But not with you."
She put her arm around him. He knew that if he was going to make it in this world as a hotshot businessman, he'd need to be comfortable in all situations. Having the arm of the supposed hottest girl in school draped all over him made him more nervous than any prior business deal.
Her lips came dangerous close to his ear as she spoke. "You're best friends with Super Ted, am I right?"
"Actually Ted hasn't come up with a superhero name, but yes, best friend and business manager."
Erica purred, and Dhiraj hated that he kind of thought it was attractive.
"I need to get him alone, if you know what I mean." She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. "Is that something you can arrange?"
His pulse found a new level of speed. "I'm happy to–I'll talk to–I can make that happen."
"You are literally a life saver."
Erica slowly moved toward his mouth and Dhiraj closed his eyes. She turned at the last moment to kiss him on the cheek and held there for several seconds too long. When she pulled away, Dhiraj felt the moisture fro
m her lips remain on his face. He took a deep breath and thought of spreadsheets.
"I'll get back to you by lunchtime."
"You do that." As she and her besties turned away, she caught Jennifer’s eye. "Hey Jen, your fiancé has some lipstick on his cheek."
Erica, Beth, and Winny chuckled and walked away.
Dhiraj tried to read Jennifer’s face as he rubbed at the lipstick with his sleeve. "Did it come off?"
Jennifer was somewhere else entirely. "I'll talk to you later, Dhiraj."
She walked away without looking at him.
Dhiraj waited until she was gone to kick at the base of a locker. "Damn evil blonde cheerleaders!"
He hoped against hope that Jennifer wasn’t angry with him. As he continued to clean his cheek, he wondered exactly what the most popular girl in school wanted with her biggest fan. Given this encounter, he wasn't so sure Ted could handle Hurricane Erica.
"You were right about one thing, Jen." He shook his head. "Erica is frightening."
13
Sheriff Norris sat at his desk trying to make sense of it all. No matter how he tried to account for his last 24 hours, a large chunk of the day had been lost at the same time Erica LaPlante had been found. As if that weren’t enough, he had a vague sense of what Erica was doing at any given time: going to school, gossiping with her friends, or using class time to plan something completely un-scholastic.
He considered whether or not he was fit for duty when the phone rang. The sheriff didn’t even have to ask who it was.
"Aren’t you supposed to be at school?"
Erica laughed. "So feisty. Fighting my control at every turn. I need you to tell me everything you can about Ted Finley."
Sheriff Norris knew it wasn't protocol to provide information from the office database to anyone who asked. There was a bureaucratic process. One that he'd never broken until now.
