Super Powereds: Year 1

by Drew Hayes

  Leaping into this chaotic scene, as all three pairs of eyes turned on him in surprise, Vince tried to look on the bright side. At least he had found Hershel.

  19.

  “Who the fuck are you?!” Julia screeched at Vince.

  “Um, I’m Vince,” he said lamely. “Sasha and I were meeting to go get breakfast.”

  “Vince, thank God,” Hershel cried, dashing over to his dorm mate’s side and all but cowering. “This woman has gone mad, she won’t listen to anything.”

  “Why are you in a blanket?” Vince asked.

  “Why do you know this guy?” Sasha asked.

  “WHY WERE YOU IN MY BED?” Julia thundered. Vince was impressed, he would have never thought a girl her size would have pipes like that.

  “I keep trying to tell you that. You fell asleep with me,” Hershel said with as much projection as he had. It turns out that wasn’t much, but Julia’s eruption had silenced the room pretty effectively.

  “Bullshit I did,” Julia denied. “I was... with... Roy last night. You know, the tall, hard-bodied man that you definitely are not!”

  “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Vince tossed out, hoping to get some sense of what was happening around him.

  “I’ve been listening to them for a while,” Sasha said. “I think I understand the gist of it. If you two don’t mind, I’ll recap and we can see where the disagreement is.” Both Hershel and Julia nodded their agreement, though Hershel with gratitude and Julia with barely-suppressed rage.

  “Thanks,” Sasha continued. “So, Julia met Roy last night at the karaoke part of Casino Night. They came home and got busy-”

  “Get busy? That’s presumptuous,” Julia butted in.

  “There was a tie on the door, I slept on the living room couch, and these walls are a lot thinner than you seem to think they are,” Sasha replied succinctly.

  “Oh,” Julia said, a bit of the wind leaking out of her sails.

  “Whatever, I don’t give a damn, I was just recapping,” Sasha said. “So they were at it for a few hours, kudos to Roy, by the way, then finally passed out and we all got some sleep. I wake up this morning to her throwing a hissy fit and beating the shit out of the guy in the towel. It seems she and sex-man passed out last night but she and that guy were the ones that woke up together.”

  “Which I can explain,” Hershel interjected before Julia could build up to another tirade. “If Vince would please shut the door.” Vince complied and Hershel continued. “I am Roy... technically. He’s the version of me with powers.”

  “I thought you were a shifter,” Vince said.

  “I am. I shift into Roy. He’s the part of me with abilities. Also charm and confidence,” Hershel admitted a bit sadly.

  “And looks,” Julia spat out.

  “Hey, now,” Vince said. “There’s no need for that. Hershel didn’t sneak into your room and crawl into your bed. You took him home and he turned back in his sleep.”

  “So he couldn’t have warned me?” Julia asked.

  “Roy was a bit... preoccupied,” Hershel said, blushing freely.

  “Wait, so Roy is a hot, Super version of you?” Sasha asked. “I’m just trying to get a grip on this.”

  “Yes and no,” Hershel said. “Same body, with the obvious alterations, but we have entirely different personalities. Roy tends to be... easily distracted.”

  “So I was a distraction? Well, why the hell isn’t Roy here explaining all of this?” Julia asked.

  “Roy is rarely inclined toward dealing with the morning after,” Hershel said. Without warning, Julia whipped the shoe in a straight path for his head. Sasha knocked it away faster than Vince could see, literally, and Hershel desperately tried to cool the blonde. “It wasn’t just that! There’s a certain trigger that brings Roy out and when it wears off I go back to being me. It was an unavoidable change. I know that Roy liked you very much!”

  “He did?” Julia suddenly seemed to calm exponentially. “How do you know? What did he say about me?”

  “Well, we don’t talk... not really. But we have access to each other’s memories and what we were thinking or feeling at any given time,” Hershel explained.

  “Oh,” Julia said. “Wait, does that mean you remember everything from last night?”

  “Well... yes,” Hershel said, bracing himself for assault. This time though, it was Julia’s turn to go red.

  “Ummmmm, well, this clearly seems like just a giant misunderstanding,” Julia said quickly. “Hershel, I’m sorry I threw things at you why don’t you grab your pants I’m going to be in the shower I’ll see you all later.” Without a pause or a breath Julia snatched up a towel from inside her room and bolted out of the living room, on a beeline toward the showers and away from the remaining three.

  “Huh,” Sasha said. “That must have been some kinky shit.”

  “I’d really like not to comment,” Hershel said as he gathered up the clothes from Sasha and Julia’s bedroom floor.

  “Hershel, it doesn’t look like those really fit you,” Vince pointed out.

  “They don’t,” he said. “I’ll be able to get home in them, though. Besides, we make it a rule to take care of the other’s clothing whenever possible. It’s a consideration that keeps both of our wardrobes intact.”

  “So... still haven’t told me how you know each other,” Sasha pointed out.

  “Remember when we saw the name Roy on the boards yesterday and I told you about my dorm mate, Hershel?” Vince asked.

  “Ohhh,” Sasha said. “Well, that explains why Hershel wasn’t up there at least.”

  Hershel had shut the door to the bedroom and was presumably getting dressed.

  “Poor guy,” Vince said. “I can’t imagine this was how he wanted to start his career at Lander.”

  “I wouldn’t feel too bad for them. I got a front audio seat for last night’s show and I have a feeling the memories of that experience were worth it,” Sasha said.

  “You think your roommate is that good?” Vince asked.

  “Maybe, but I also know something you don’t,” Sasha said.

  “Do tell.”

  “I know that Julia’s power is to make duplicates of herself,” Sasha said.

  “Like, illusions or dummies?” Vince asked.

  “Like real live, walking, talking, capable of independent action duplicates,” Sasha elaborated.

  “Well... imagine that,” Vince said.

  “No need,” Hershel replied as he stepped out of the bedroom. It was an awkward ensemble that adorned his body since Roy was clearly taller and leaner, but nothing was bursting so it seemed Hershel was right and he would be able to get back to Melbrook. “I’m afraid I’ll have to apologize, but knowing she has that ability means I’m almost positive Roy will be calling on her again.”

  “Just spare me the morning fiasco next time,” Sasha said. “And if possible keep Silver here awake instead of me. Melbrook is probably just as nice a place to get it on.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, but sadly I can make no promises,” Hershel said. “I’ll see you at Melbrook, Vince. Sasha, thank you for your understanding.”

  “No worries,” Sasha said with a wave. “I sort of expected this. It is college, after all.”

  With a nod Hershel stepped out the door, keeping his eyes peeled for fear of running into Julia, leaving Vince and Sasha alone in the living room area.

  “So,” Sasha said after a moment, “you wishing you had talked to the girl that’s a walking orgy instead of the chick with the colored hair?”

  “Nah,” Vince replied. “I’ve got a thing for girls in grey workout shorts, so you’re still narrowly in the lead.”

  Sasha laughed then looked at what she was wearing. For the first time all morning she became all too aware of just how well her shorts lived up to their name, and the fact that her tight pink shirt wasn’t being hampered by the presence of a bra. The thought riding on the coattails of the previous two was the realization t
hat Vince must be just as aware of these things.

  “Ready for food in five!” Sasha yelped as she moved past Vince in a blur and slammed the door to her bedroom behind her. Vince wished he could have seen her mad dash for cover, but that was the sacrifice you made when you hit on a girl with super speed.

  20.

  Nick had never suspected he would be grateful for assigned seating, but as he took his desk at the end of the row next to a short boy with messy hair, Nick did take a moment to thank his lucky stars. It wasn’t that he preferred aisle seats- he had a feeling that no position in the room would liven up Ethics of Heroism - but it did make things a bit easier on him. Nick had known when he chose the cover persona of a happy-go-lucky, chatter-happy dimwit that there would be certain concessions involved. One that he hadn’t counted on grating as much as it did was the need to be around his fellow dorm mates constantly, seeking them out and keeping conversations aloft. He’d vested ample time with Vince, but the others were a bit more difficult to wrangle, and of course Mary was a lost cause. Thus, if he had been able to choose his own seat, he would have been forced by his own sense of commitment to take one near his fellow Melbrook residents. Being placed on the end away from them allowed him a measure of alone time without offending his actor’s sensibilities.

  Nick extracted a binder and a pen from his bag and turned to an untouched section. He already had notes from his economics and accounting classes that morning, so this was his last mind-stretcher of the day. Afterwards came gym, whatever that entailed, and then he would be done with his first day of college. It was pleasant of them to have put it on a Friday at least, allowing the students a chance to acclimate to the town around Lander.

  Nick perused the room, taking cursory notes and finding the positions of the others from his dorm. Hershel had finally popped back up that morning, and he was easy to spot as he waded through the rows, awkwardly trying to find his spot. The others took a few minutes to locate since the room was full of the freshman class, all clad in their black uniforms. He managed to locate the final one, Mary, just as the door opened and Dean Blaine walked into the front of the room.

  “Good morning, class,” Dean Blaine said with a large smile. “As all of you will hopefully remember, my name is Dean Blaine, and I will be teacher for Ethics of Heroism. And before anyone asks, no, you aren’t getting special treatment. I consider it my personal pleasure to instruct the new freshmen every year, helping them to understand not just what we do, but why it is so important that we do it.”

  A hand went up quickly. The class’s suck-up, no doubt. Nick knew there would be one: there always was, and of course they couldn’t wait to identify themselves by asking the first question. There was no surprise in Nick that someone was already drawing attention to themselves. What did surprise him was the voice of the question asker. He chided himself for not having anticipated someone that obvious.

  “So does that mean you and the two coaches make up the entirety of the Hero Certification Program’s staff?” Alice asked once Dean Blaine pointed to her.

  “Certainly not,” Dean Blaine assured her. “There are several more professors on staff here, though you won’t be working under any of them until sophomore year.”

  “Why not?” This time the question came from a tall girl with her hair pulled back tightly into a braid. She didn’t bother to raise her hand.

  “Well, simply put, you wouldn’t gain anything from them yet,” Dean Blaine explained. “You see, freshman year of this program is the year that we ready your minds and bodies for what is to come over the following three. This is the year that you get the basics, and it’s the year we see how many of you have the determination to see our program through to the end. The other professors will be working with you on more specialized programs, programs that you don’t have the groundwork for yet.”

  “See it through?” Alice shot the tall girl who apparently didn’t believe in the courtesy of the hand raise a dirty look.

  “Yes,” said Dean Blaine. “The training here is rather grueling, and many who think they want to pursue this line of work soon change their minds once they experience it. The dropout rate of the Hero Certification Program is approximately sixty-five percent. That does not include students who are cut by the staff, either; that number only represents voluntary departures.”

  The tall girl let out a low whistle, but ceased her questioning of the dean.

  “Anyway,” Dean Blaine continued. “As all of you should know, this will be the only Friday that we meet. Normally this class will only be on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the other three days allotted for personal study. I’m sure most of you are counting on that as a free period, but I assure you, it is time you should cherish. That is a boon we only provide to the freshmen, to help ease the transition. Now then, on to the syllabus.”

  There was a collective sigh that rippled through the class. No one groaned, but it was close.

  Dean Blaine laughed. “Same reaction every year. Forgive my little joke, but there won’t be a syllabus. This is a discussion class, one for which you will be graded on participation and attendance, but written work doesn’t really mesh with the subject matter we’re covering. If I asked you for a paper on why Heroes give themselves and their careers to protecting the safety of the people, you’d just be up all night writing words. When I ask you that question, which I will, incidentally, I want to look you in the eye and hear what you really think. So come prepared to talk and think, but otherwise you won’t need anything but your wit.”

  That was a relief to almost everyone else in the class. Nick swore inwardly. Now he’d have to bluff the dean at least twice a week. Of course, he could always answer honestly, but Nick was smarter than he appeared, at least smart enough to know that was a dumb idea. The views Nick had been raised with didn’t correlate so well with the rest of society’s values. The truth had its place, and it was called a deathbed.

  “That brings us to the matter of today. I’m sure many of you are anxious to be off to the next class and find out what gym is all about,” Dean Blaine said. There were a few enthusiastic nods around the room; clearly the idea of training openly with their abilities appealed to many of the students. “Well, I commend your curiosity and I’m going to reward it. Today we will be dismissing Ethics of Heroism early to give you all an extra half hour of gym. I think it will give you a proper appreciation.”

  The rest of the class seemed upbeat as they stowed their binders and began rising from their seats. Nick was a bit more apprehensive. Among all of them, he seemed to be one of the few who noticed that Dean Blaine hadn’t told them what exactly they would be getting a proper appreciation of. He tried to assure himself that he was just reading into things too much.

  Several hours later, when he finally had the energy to, he admonished himself for not trusting his instincts.

  21.

  “Two-minute break,” Coach George shouted to the freshmen.

  “Oh, thank you, dear and sweet merciful lord of heaven,” Hershel gasped. Vince and Nick had a similar sentiment but lacked the breath to express it.

  What the course schedule had referred to as “gym” was in fact a tortuous living hell. For the past three hours there had been nothing but nonstop physical exertion. Pushups, sit-ups, weight training, resistance training, all with running in between. There had been a total of five two-minute breaks counting this one, and the rest of the time had been spent constantly active.

  Hershel cursed himself for showing up to gym. He knew it had been a stupid idea when he did it, but after the morning’s incidents, he couldn’t bear being Roy again so soon. He had imagined that he would be able to handle whatever physical activities were thrust upon him for at least one day. He had been wrong. He had been oh-so-very wrong.

  The only upside was that almost no one was faring well throughout this training. Vince and Nick were both gasping for air beside him as they stopped running, and across the track he could see the girls leaning against the wall, restin
g with as much vigor as possible. The coaches had separated the boys and girls into two herds at opposite ends of the track, warning that dire consequences would occur if anyone fell so far behind that they wound up in the other sex’s herd. A young-looking boy with messy brown hair had been the only one so far, and Coach Persephone had swept him off to another area. No one wanted to know what he had to do.

  Truthfully, though, Hershel wasn’t sure how long it would be before others followed suit. The only reason more hadn’t lagged behind was that both groups were losing speed and stamina at similar rates. Near the head of the boys’ group a bald guy was holding it together pretty well, and next to him was a boy with short blond hair who didn’t even seem to be sweating or breathing hard. Those with physical based powers were kicking ass at life today. Hershel cursed himself again. If Roy were doing this he wouldn’t need a rest at all.

  “Why... why did we let Dean Blaine dismiss us early?” Vince asked as he sucked in air.

  “We’re idiots,” Nick responded instantly. “He was right, though. I now have a profound appreciation for Ethics of Heroism.”

  Vince and Hershel nodded their agreement. Neither would be fantasizing about another early release any time soon. Or ever, for that matter.

  “Time’s up, you over-confident wimps,” Coach George yelled. It couldn’t have been two minutes. There was no way it was two minutes. Hershel felt tears welling up inside him; he couldn’t take any more of this. He was out of shape to begin with; at least the others had some semblance of stamina. Before he could actually lose control, though, Coach George hollered once more.