Super Powereds: Year 1 (31 page)

Nick gathered up his own things and sighed inwardly. He'd managed to diffuse a lot of the sympathy the class had been building toward Jacob, and in doing so had marked himself as someone with no compassion for Powereds. It was a bit paranoid, admittedly, to worry that someone would make such a leap from Melbrook students being sympathetic toward Powereds to suspecting they had once been Powereds themselves, but Nick often thought of paranoia as nothing more than extreme preparedness. He had done what he had to do, even if it was built on a very unlikely fear. Unlikely was something you learned to account for when you grew up with bipolar luck, though, so Nick reaffirmed that it was necessary to shift the pity toward Jacob partially into suspicion and fear.

Knowing all that, he still felt a sense of guilt rising in his stomach. That, at least, he knew exactly how to deal with though.

52.

“What. The Fuck. Was that?” These were the words that greeted Dean Blaine as he returned to his office some hours after the class and his errand with Jacob had been finished.

“Mr. Campbell,” Dean Blaine said graciously. “My secretary informed me you’d been waiting in my office for some time. I must say I’m impressed at your patience.”

Nick stared back at him stonily. There might have been some emotion in the eyes hidden away by those sunglasses, but the face was an absolute blank. No feeling, no sentiment, no expectation, only an unending resolve in waiting for his answer.

“Fine, then. ‘That’, as you put it, was my attempt to develop some semblance of humane feelings towards Powereds in my class,” Dean Blaine said.

“Have you ever done it before?” Nick asked.

“Well, no,” Dean Blaine admitted.

“Then why in God’s sweet name would you do it this time?” Nick asked, rising to his feet.

“Because it’s more relevant,” Dean Blaine replied.

“No, it isn’t,” Nick corrected him. “There is no relevance to it at all. Powereds are broken products, lesser Supers, a group with an unfortunate disability, and not one person in that class needs to think any differently. We’re all Supers after all, so who is going to get offended?”

“Mr. Campbell, if you’re afraid that my experiment will compromise your secret, I can assure you-”

“Stop,” Nick said, holding up his hand. The gesture was unnecessary: the tone of his voice alone would have frozen water. “Do you fully understand how tenuous our position here is? Do you realize what a ridiculous stroke of luck it is that the only real telepath in our class is one of us? Do you think for one moment you really understand what it will be like if our secret gets out? Let me assure you of something, Dean Blaine. I’m certain your heart is in the right place, but don’t you ever fucking dare believe for an instant you know what it’s like growing up as a Powered. Until you’ve seen the looks of disgust and disappointment on people’s faces, until you’ve been literally terrified out of your mind about what you’ll cause to happen next, and until you’ve seen that same fear of the eyes of those you love, only then you can talk to me about how you’re doing your best to keep our secret.”

“Feel better?” Dean Blaine asked. “That was quite the little monologue.”

“It needed to be said,” Nick replied. “You’re too careless, and I understand today was about trying to help us, but honestly, the best thing you can do to help us is treat us like everyone else.”

“In that case I should probably kick you out since you’ve sworn at the dean of your program twice in last few minutes,” Dean Blaine said.

“Do what you’ve got to do,” Nick shot back. “Just understand that while Mary and Roy, and maybe even Vince, could still hang on if we got outed, Alice and I wouldn’t last a week. We’re not the combat type; the only thing that lets us fly through here is being part of the community of Supers. If we were targeted, or different, there’s no way we’d be able to hold on.”

“I take it that’s why you consistently make grades at almost exactly the median of the class,” Dean Blaine speculated.

“On my best day it’s still tenuous that my power should have gotten me in here,” Nick said. “Not making waves is the best strategy I’ve got.”

“Very well, Mr. Campbell,” Dean Blaine said. “I’ll take what you’ve said under advisement for my future lessons. I’ll do this because this is the first time you’ve actually talked to me as yourself, the bright observant boy we both know you to be, rather than that insipid character you’ve concocted.”

“It made more sense to abandon the pretense, otherwise I couldn’t have had this discussion with you,” Nick confessed.

“A wise choice, though I’m sure you’ll be playing the same part in our future classroom interactions,” Dean Blaine said.

“Of course,” Nick confirmed.

“I can accept that. I do hope you realize my door is always open to you, though, not just when you wish to go on a tirade. Since you’ve already shown your true self to me, there’s no harm in dropping by to talk. If you would like,” Dean Blaine offered.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. I think we’re done then, Mr. Campbell, unless there was anything else?”

“No, as long as there are no more stunts like today, we should be fine,” Nick said, turning to go.

“Oh, and I should point out there were two problems with your argument,” Dean Blaine said. “Firstly, Ms. Smith is not the only telepath in your year, as you should know from having met Mr. Griffen.”

“Alex is a nice guy, but he’s closer to an empath than a telepath. He rarely gets thoughts, mostly emotions,” Nick said.

“As far as you know,” Dean Blaine pointed out. “It would be wise not to underestimate anyone who has made it into my program. That brings up the second problem. Your ‘tenuous power’, as you described it, is not what elevated you into the HCP.”

“Oh?” Nick asked without turning around. He was confident his face was still controlled, but there was no reason to risk giving anything away when it was avoidable.

“Indeed. The power qualifies you as a Super, but in your evaluation it was your intelligence and strategic thinking that made you Hero material,” Dean Blaine said.

“Good to know,” Nick said, walking to the door and swiftly exiting the dean’s office. Somewhere in course of that conversation he’d lost his power and momentum, but he’d gained insight into how the dean worked, and that might prove to be invaluable. Aside from that, he’d gotten a slight idea at what Dean Blaine’s power might be, and that information he
knew
would be useful. Now he just had to think of a way to test his hypothesis.

After finals, though. Even Nick wasn’t confident enough to try and take on more projects before the semester ended.

53.

"I'm glad you talked us into coming out," Hershel told Alex as they entered the living room of a two-story house. The couches were wrapped in plastic and it seemed someone had laid a blue tarp down on top of most of the carpet. The house was full, though not bursting like the other clubs and parties they had been to. It was loud enough to see that people were having fun, though it hadn't crossed the line into utter pandemonium yet.

"I think we all needed it after that bummer of a presentation on Tuesday," Alex said. "I mean, I agree with what Dean Blaine was trying to do, but he should have known most people weren't ever going to be sympathetic toward some Powered."

"You are," Vince pointed out.

Alex shrugged. "Nearly everyone thinks I'm crazy or delusional. It's hard for me to get up on my high horse about how I'm so much better than someone else. Besides, that's not the Jedi way."

"The Jedi had better get out of my way," Nick said, shouldering into the room. He and Alice were the last of the group, Mary having opted to stay in and the rest of their friends studying for finals already. In truth, Nick was tempted to use the same excuse; however, after letting himself go and tearing into Dean Blaine, he felt like he needed to recenter his character. Sadly, a social environment full of Supers was the best place for that.

"Welcome, Fish," said a tall blonde girl holding a red plastic cup. She and Alice had a slight similarity, in the way that a dog and wolf can look the same if one isn't paying attention. She wasn't imposing, per se, but the way she walked, smiled, and ever tossed her hair left no doubt in anyone's mind that this woman was a warrior. "I'm glad you guys made it out. My name is Angela and this is my house."

"Thank you for inviting us," Vince said politely.

"No worries, it’s a tradition to invite those of you who last this long to join us. It's our way of saying good job on getting this far, and that we're welcoming you into the Super community at Lander," Angela replied.

"So this party is all Supers?" Alex asked.

"You got it," Angela confirmed. "Feel free to let down your hair and be yourself. Tonight your secret identity is safe with us."

"We really appreciate it," Alice said, using all of her willpower not to curtsy. She had begun rapidly realizing that the stiff formality she had learned at Daddy's functions were not suited to the college environment. Plus, she was wearing slacks, so she would have looked ridiculous.

"Like I said, no big deal," Angela assured. "Besides, you had the balls to come. That means you belong here. You'd be amazed how many people who are here to learn about fighting life and death battles are too squeamish to come out to a party with older students."

"That and it is the beginning of finals time," Hershel pointed out.

"Which is why this also shows us who the irresponsible crowd is," Angela said with a wink. "Anyway, the keg is the garage and we have some liquor on the counter. Help yourself to whatever you want; buying for the freshmen is also part of the tradition."

"Um, we're under age," Vince said.

"As am I, as are most of us here, in fact. I recommend you enjoy it while you can, though. Apparently once you hit junior year there isn't any time for a beer or a party," Angela said. "Your call, though: drink or don't, but mingle and have some fun either way." With that, Angela sauntered back off into the shapeless blob of people.

"Sasha's going to be pissed she missed a chance to be irresponsible," Vince commented once she was gone.

"So's Roy," Hershel added.

"Think he'll want to come out?" Alex asked.

"Absolutely. Now ask me if I care," Hershel said with a sideways grin. "Come on, guys, let's mingle."

A bit surprised at being led by the most socially awkward of the group, everyone followed Hershel as he led them into the kitchen where most people were gathered. Given that the kitchen was where the liquor was kept, as well as the cups, not to mention that it was only a door away from the keg in the garage, it was the logical gathering place for the attendees. What seemed illogical, though, was the ease with which Hershel was navigating them through it. He was greeting people, shaking hands, getting names, and moving onward. It was oddly mind-blowing, though it shouldn't have been. After all, Hershel was a role-player, and with Roy's memories this was a role he knew by heart. If the others were surprised by his rapport with the older students, they were flabbergasted when Hershel finally reached the cups and plucked a few from the top.

"What does everybody want?" Hershel asked, turning his attention to the liquor selection.

"Are you serious?" Vince asked in a nearly strangled voice. "You know we can't drink."

"No, I know that we legally shouldn't drink. I also know that since I didn't drive here, I feel like seeing what it's like firsthand for once, and it seems like these first two years are going to be the only chance we'll get. More importantly, I don't want to go through college with my alter ego as the only one doing stupid crap and trying new things," Hershel said, not without conviction. He didn't feel quite as certain as he sounded, but he was determined to make some memories of his own. His talk with Alex had made him realize how easily he defaulted to letting Roy be the one to go party or chase the girl. This was his life too, damn it.

"Spoken like a man after my own heart," Nick said, stepping to Hershel's side. "Let me try... the gin."

"And?" Hershel asked.

"Um... ice?"

"You want straight gin for your first taste of alcohol," Hershel said incredulously.

"I thought that's how you were supposed to take it," Nick lied.

"Never mind, I'll make you something myself. Roy's tried tons of drinks," Hershel said, waving off Nick. "Anyone else?"

Alice cautiously raised her hand and Alex joined more enthusiastically.

"Guess that makes me the designated driver," Vince grumbled.

"Aw, cheer up, Silver," Nick consoled him. "At least you can see things better than us from up on your moral high ground."

"I'm not on the high ground. I get why you guys want to try it. That's just not my thing," Vince defended.

"Well, bottoms up to Vince for being our reliable driver then," Nick said, accepting a drink from Hershel and toasting with it. He took a sip and was pleasantly surprised. Nick had been drinking since childhood and actually did prefer straight gin, but for a mixed drink Hershel's concoction was pretty good. The smiles and smacks of the rest of the group confirmed his opinion.

"That's tasty, Hershel," Alice complimented. "All I've had is wine with dinner once or twice, and this is way better."

"I do what I can," Hershel modestly.

"What are you drinking?" Alex asked, noting Hershel's liquid was a different color.

"Screwdriver," Hershel replied. "Your drinks have whiskey in them, and I don't drink whiskey."

"Much as I love your same old faces, let’s get out of this corner and go get our mingle on," Nick said, gesturing grandly. He began wading back into the crowd, the others following with far less grandeur. Not without any, mind you; just with less.

54.

Walking around the party was a somewhat surreal experience. Sure, it was a new environment to most of them, but that in itself wasn't overpowering. The odd part was just how normal everything seemed... until it didn't. Seeing a guy talking to a hot girl at a party: normal. Seeing that same guy produce a rose made of perfect glass from nowhere: significantly less normal. It wasn't the extraordinary parts that seemed out of place, it was seeing them used so casually in a place like this. Slowly it was dawning on the Lander freshmen just how paranoid the secret identity had made them over the semester. Hiding their nature was hardly a new experience for some, but it struck Alice that she hadn't gone flying since she first leaned she was able to. Sure, she'd used it here and there in training, that wasn't the same thing as soaring above world, though. Alex, too, was missing the days when he didn't have to keep his nature hidden away under lock and key.