Chapter 4 [Carrie]

The single sheet of eight and a half by eleven paper was filled with names, which was slightly discouraging to Carrie, but she swallowed her apprehension and wrote her own down before passing it to the person sitting to her right. She was in the auditorium again, prepared to audition with a song and a monologue. Once the paper was filled out and handed back to the drama director—the colorful, wiry woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Franklin. She had already introduced herself to the group, and Carrie was surprised to find that she didn’t actually have any powers. She felt like the teacher was the first person she’d seen in weeks without them—although she did make up for it by having what turned out to be a very convincing prosthetic covering of a mechanical leg replacement leg, that enabled her to jump particularly high. Everyone here was special in their own way, it seemed.

Mrs. Franklin took the list of names when it was filled out, and then called the first person up on stage, asking them to introduce themselves and give their name, age and league, and then a prepared monologue and song. The first girl up was short, but she didn’t look particularly nervous, despite being first. She wore a cloth cover over her hair, so Carrie assumed she must be Muslim. She introduced herself as Sasha Adar, seventeen years old, from white- orange league. Immediately, Carrie felt more nervous—a seventeen- year- old? She gave her song and audition, which were good from what Carrie could tell although she couldn’t hear the girl all that well. Next up was another girl, this one Asian of some persuasion, with spiky, short black hair tied back into a stubby ponytail. She introduced herself as Sophie from the Blue- red league; a sophomore. Her song was much more confident than the previous girl’s, but her monologue faltered, and she dropped character to apologize halfway through.

The list dwindled, getting closer and closer to Carrie’s turn—she was one of the last, having arrived at auditions slightly late, and every person that performed before her made her more and more nervous. She recognized a smattering of people from the auditions—the boy Drew from the tour yesterday, and Lucas and Aubrey, with whom she had eaten dinner.
Several auditions before her turn, Mrs. Franklin called out, “Austen Silver?” A boy stood up and made his way to the stage.

“I’m Silver, fourteen, red-blue league.” This told Carrie four things: one, that he was a freshman, two, that he was in the league associated with hers, three, that he for whatever reason did not use his first name, and four, that his voice was something she’d never expected to come out of that mouth: it was deep and velvety, harmonious to the degree that it sounded like two people speaking at once.

“Silver? Not Austen?”

“No, not Austen,” he said in his extraordinary voice. He wasn’t exceptionally attractive, Carrie thought; he was tall and lanky, as if he had yet to grow into his body completely; however, his eyes were a dark brown, almost black, and mesmerizing. Carrie realized what she was thinking and caught herself. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. That was the sort of thing that happened in stories, in comic books, in movies—not—

She almost missed it when he started monologuing, and even then she found it hard to concentrate on the words he was saying; the sound of his voice superseded what he was trying to say. Then he moved on to singing and from then she had little doubt that he would get a lead role, even if he couldn’t act to save his life. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could get the part of the love interest. Maybe—oh, god dangit, I’m thinking it again she realized. Well. I mean, I was bound to have a crush eventually, right? Best to get that part over with ahead of time.

Finished, he stepped down from the stage and returned to his seat, although Carrie was too lost in thought to pay attention to the next two auditions, and only when the person to her left stood up did she fully regain her composure. She shook her head to clear it, went over the song and speech she was going to give in her head, and when it was her turn, she was readier than she’d ever be—if only those god dang butterflies would leave her stomach. Perhaps they’re spirit butterflies, she mused rather nonsensically as she climbed up on stage.

She introduced herself as Carrie Mann, age fourteen, from red-orange league. Looking out across the audience, she saw him turn his head to watch her. She gulped, scrambled to remember the song and speech she was auditioning with, and then began. She felt rather silly, reading a poem instead of a dramatic monologue like most people were doing (especially for a play that was adapted from Shakespeare). When she named her song and the artist, some of the staff and older students chuckled. She grinned nervously—it was from a band that she was rather fond of, that she had chosen because she knew the song well; although in retrospect, it might not have been the best song to audition with, since it didn’t display her range entirely well. Nevertheless, she sang it as confidently as she could, and she thought she was fairly in tune, even though her voice paled in comparison to Silver’s.

The few remaining auditioners performed, and then it was time for the dance auditions. Carrie got up on stage uneasily, dancing not being her forte.

“Pair off,” said Mrs. Franklin. “Same gender, opposite gender, doesn’t matter. We’re going to learn to waltz.” People drifted together; Carrie, slow on the uptake, was one of the last people standing towards the back of the stage without a partner. Looking across to stage right, she saw Silver also standing there, a bit awkwardly.

In a tremendous surge of courage, she walked up to him and asked, “Um, hey, partners?” He looked at her outstretched hand for a second, then at her, and shrugged.

“Okay.”

Mrs. Franklin grabbed someone from the throng, a senior who she apparently knew rather well, and demonstrated to everyone how to waltz. Most people knew already, but for Carrie, it was her first time. Fortunately, it seemed to be Silver’s too—he picked it up rather quickly, though, and soon they were stepping in time to Mrs. Franklin’s “One- two- three, One- two three, One- two three” count. Carrie stared at their feet, in part to make sure they remembered the steps and in part to keep from looking up at his eyes, and to keep her mind off the fact that he was holding his hands. Mrs. Franklin sped up the count, which forced them to keep their full attention on their feet—almost to Carrie’s relief. Then she stopped counting, telling them to waltz freely. The group continued to dance, some pairs slowing down and others keeping the rapid speed Mrs. Franklin had left them on. Silver kept at that speed, and Carrie matched his pace. He soon began moving faster and faster, however, and it was all Carrie could do to keep up with him without tripping or crashing into someone—she quickly became aware of the fact that he probably shouldn’t be able to move at this pace naturally. Glancing upwards, she saw that he wasn’t looking at her; his eyes were fixed on some distant point as they whirled.

“Hey, can you—” she managed to say, her heart pounding with actual effort, not just nerves. “Can you—slow down—a little? I—can’t—keep up!” His eyes refocused and he looked at her, stunned for a second to be pulled back into the real world. Then he looked at their feet, and at the people around him.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, and their pace slowed back down to normal. Carrie relaxed a little, before becoming aware again of the fact that she was holding his hands. They stayed at a respectable speed until Mrs. Franklin called the group to a halt. The group stepped down off the stage, aware that the auditions were over, but no more relaxed than they had been when auditions began. Carrie, in fact, was more anxious than she had ever been since she came to the school, including the time when she set off the alarm in the science building.

“Thank you all for auditioning for Gladiator Academy’s Fall musical! As you all know, the play will be a modernized version of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. You all did excellently; remember that whether or not you get the part that you were hoping for, you all did wonderfully, and I hope that you all take something positive away from this experience. Have a lovely rest of your day!” The group gathered its stuff and headed outside. Carrie saw Silver through the crowd and again approached him.

“Um,” she said, searching for something to say that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot. “T- thanks for, um, being my dance partner.” Oh, whoops, that did sound pretty idiotic. He looked at her, confused.

“Um, you’re welcome…?”

“But, um, so I was sort of wondering, what was going on that time when you got really fast? It seemed like you were moving faster than—”

“Oh, yes, that. Sorry about that. I have superspeed.”

“…Oh.” That explained it. “I… I thought as much.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking away from Carrie. A wave of awkward silence crashed over the two of them, with Carrie anxiously wondering if she had said something wrong, or if she should back out now, or was it painfully obvious that she was just talking to him for the sake of talking—
“Hey, so you said you were in… red-orange league?” He asked, making her jump.

“Oh, um. Yeah! Yeah, I am,” she stuttered, impulsively running her hand through her curly brown hair. “That… that means we’re in the same league. I mean, not league. We’re in the same classes. We have classes together. Um.” He gave her a bewildered look.

“…Yeah?”

“S- so why did you try out for the musical, anyway? You… like singing?”

“Yeah, sorta.” He shrugged. “I was in a couple plays back home, before.”

“Really? What plays?”

“Oh. Uh. I’m not sure you would know them… one was an original production by our school. I helped write the script.”

“You like to write?”

“…Sometimes.”

“That’s cool!” she said, grinning (nervously). “I love writing! I went to writing camp once. This November, I’m—have you heard of National Novel—"

“—Writing month? Yeah. I did it last year.”

“Wow! Really? That’s… that’s so cool! Did… did you win? Did you get to forty thousand or however many words you’re supposed to reach?”

“Fifty thousand, and no,” he said, a little guiltily. “Schoolwork got to be too much, and my dad forbade me from continuing it after I had about fifteen thousand words in.”

“You… you gonna do it again this year, then?”

“No… I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t have time,” he said, shrugging. “I have to keep my physical training up, and if I get into the musical I’ll have even less time.”

“You should do it! We can both do it, and we can be… writing…” her voice faltered. “…cohorts.”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun! I don’t want to be the only person doing it in the whole—”

“I’m sorry, Carrie, but—no,” he told her, and then turned in a separate direction and walked off. Something about his retreating back told Carrie she shouldn’t follow, coupled with a growing hurt. It had felt more than just a refusal to write; it seemed to Carrie more like utter rejection. What—did she do something wrong? Was she coming on too strong? She must have scared him off… and now he thought she was a creep. The first cute guy she meets, with cool interests and a lovely voice, and she’d blown it already. She stood where he had left her for about a minute before continuing in a different direction, towards the building with the club fair.

Only when she had passed the café did she realize that he had used her name—he had remembered her name! The memory of hearing it in his voice sent shivers down her spine, before she mentally kicked herself for being all sappy and romantic, and banished the thought to the back of her mind, turning her thoughts to other matters. The club fair looked interesting, so that even if the whole musical thing fell through she could still find something to fill her occupational free blocks with. She hoped it wasn’t over already—it was already 2 p.m. and the fair had been going since 10 a.m.

It was a fairly long trek. The arts and theatre building was at the complete opposite end of campus from the Social Studies building where they were holding the fair (incidentally, in the same cafeteria where Carrie and Tess had met with the tour the day before). As Carrie neared the building, she scanned the area for familiar faces—although, truth be told, she didn’t have any of her leaguemates’ faces imprinted on her mind’s eye just yet. Heck, she’d only met them the day before, so she had a legitimate excuse. She went over their names once more in her head—her, Tess, Nikki, Bridget, Keli, Anita, Erin, Lucy… a motley crew. And she could only guess at what their male counterparts would be like—besides, of course, Silver. She could already tell that this whole situation with him was going to be a disaster.

She reached the large double doors and pushed one of them open, peeking inside the well- lit cafeteria area. It wasn’t very active, but there were still people sitting at booths, hawking their extracurricular activities to the sparse passersby. She walked along the first row, considering such ideas as the student faculty senate, or the calligraphy club, or the Jewish club, or the Chinese yo- yo club. Those three were ruled out almost immediately—while policymaking was kind of interesting to her, she knew from experience that those kinds of organizations barely influenced anything, with the exception of purchasing new recycling bins. Calligraphy was nowhere near her realm of interests, and while she was ethnically Jewish (Israeli, technically, although she wasn’t even that; she was a Russian Jew), she never followed the religion itself. She remembered having tried Chinese yo-yo once and almost breaking the thing. The next row housed some mildly interesting clubs, and she did put down her e-mail for the art club, and for the empty booth that the sign indicated was the drama club (the club directors, or whoever it was who handled the booth, had the courtesy to leave an “out to lunch!” sign). The writing club seemed mildly interesting, too, although she didn’t know what they would do at club meetings (…write?)

She passed by some other clubs; clubs for charities, clubs for sports teams, and clubs for wackier things like investigating paranormal phenomena (of which there was no deficit in this school), enlivening the student body (like a glee club, she wondered?) and anime. The latter had two people managing the desk—a senior, already wearing his white uniform, and a younger boy who must have been a sophomore, who had his feet up on his desk and was playing a handheld game and intermittently glancing at the TV screen, upon which they were showing the media that was the focus of their club. Carrie smiled when she saw it and looked around for somewhere to sign her e-mail.

“Oh, you wanna join?” asked the senior. “We don’t have a sign-up sheet, just come whenever you want. No worries. We meet on Tuesdays during the occupational.” Carrie thanked him and walked off, mentally tallying up what she had signed up for. Art club, Monday. Anime and Writing club, Tuesday. Drama club, Thursday. There were no clubs on Wednesday or Friday, which meant that she would have a free block those days—or not, if she got cast in the musical, which met on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, plus weekends. She wasn’t banking on that, though. The competition was, she admitted, pretty steep.

As she was leaving, she saw someone familiar coming down the stairs. It took her a few seconds to pin a name to her face—it was Nikki, from her league.

“Hey,” she said casually.

“Hey,” said the girl in return. “How was the fair?”

“Oh… interesting, I guess. I signed up for a lot of stuff.”

“Wait, you did the musical, didn’t you? How’d that go?”

Carrie’s stomach turned over. To mention Silver or not? Nikki would get to know him soon enough anyway… like tomorrow, in class. She figured she could get away with simply not mentioning that she had developed a spontaneous crush on him.

“It went fine, I think, but there was a mishap with the dance auditions,” she said simply. “my partner had superspeed.”

“…Ouch,” Nikki said, entirely sympathetic. “Well, good luck anyway. What clubs did you sign up for?”

“Like I said, a lot,” Carrie told her. “Art club, drama club, anime club…” for each club she named, she raised a finger, and by the time she had gotten through her list, she was sure that she had one more finger than club and had all but lost track of where she was going. “Uh, I need a planner or something…”

“Me too,” admitted Nikki. “H- hey, did you say you were in the anime club?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You like anime?”

“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t join, would I?” she gave Nikki a sidelong look.

“Yeah, no, I got that. It’s just that you didn’t strike me as the type to be… into that sort of thing, is all.” She shrugged.

“Well, you learn something new every day,” Carrie told her, smiling a little. “Um… I’m going back to the dorm, I think. That okay?” Nikki nodded dumbly and Carrie waved to her, then turned and strolled back to the red-orange dorm, where she planned on browsing the internet on her laptop. When she opened the door to her room, she found Tess sitting on her lower bunk, hunched over a DS. She didn’t look up until Carrie tapped her shoulder.

“’Ey!” she said, hands on hips. “What’re you doing playing games? It’s a beautiful day!”

“Sorry,” said Tess. “What else am I supposed to do? I’m not gonna play sports or anything.”

“Haven’t you been to the club fair?” asked Carrie sternly.

“Nope, not interested.”

“What?! Why not?! C’mon Tess! You can’t just cut yourself off from the rest of everyone like that!”

“I’m not,” she said, closing her DS. “I’ve got you. I don’t need to worry.”

“Well, yes, but—I’m busy! Go! Get up! Get out! Make friends!” Carrie commanded, grabbing Tess’s upper arm and hoisting her to her feet.

“I will, I will,” she grumbled. “I just don’t think I need to do it actively.”

“Join some clubs, at least! There’s tons of stuff that even you’d be interested in! C’mon, video games club?”

“Not interested,” Tess muttered. “I’ve got plenty of games here. Plus, it’ll just be full of nerdy boys who only want to play Halo.”

“…Okay, point made. Still. How about Anime club? I’m joining that.”

“Doesn’t interest me,” Tess said, motioning to go sit down again.

“C’mon. Let’s head outside at least,” Carrie said, resisting against Tess and dragging her towards the door.

“But—the sunlight glare means I can’t see the screen—”

“Oh, you’ll find a way to work around it,” Carrie told her as the two descended the stairs and headed out to the courtyard between the boys’ and girls’ buildings. There were a few people there already—two girls, both of them reading, and then farther up the hill some freshmen were throwing a Frisbee.

“Here, take a seat,” she said, gesturing towards one of the benches for the picnic table. Tess did so, reluctantly, and Carrie sat down beside her. She twisted around, looking for anyone familiar, and as she did so, she recognized a figure up on top of the hill. She immediately turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen her, but it was too late—she could have sworn that his eyes met hers. She sighed deeply.

One of the girls at the other table—a petite Indian girl—got up and approached them.

“Hey, uh… you ok?” she asked Carrie, whose head was down. She jerked her neck up in surprise, accidentally twisting it painfully in the process, and lowered it with a groan. The Indian girl winced too.

“I’m fine,” mumbled Carrie. “Talk to her, she’s the one with problems,” she said, pointing at Tess without looking at her.

“You’re not fine,” said the girl, hands on hips. “You’re in love.”

Tess looked massively confused. Carrie sat up slowly and carefully this time—her neck still smarted—and asked, as calmly as she could, “What?!”

“I’m an empath,” the girl said, shrugging. “I can read peoples’ emotions, and control them. And you are in love. And you are confused,” she told Tess, “but don’t worry. I think she just saw the guy she liked up on that hill. Is that right?”

“Who… who ARE you?”

“Sarita Gomez,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand which Carrie weakly shook. “I’m in red-yellow dorm.”

“Cool. We’re in red-orange,” said Tess, while Carrie was silent. The other girl sitting at the opposite picnic table got up and came over.

“Sari, are you messing with them again?” she asked playfully, crossing her arms.

“I’m not messing with anyone!” she said, raising her arms defensively. “I just felt a surge of emotion from this girl here… and I thought it was interesting, so…”

“Ooh, who was it?” asked she other girl. She was Caucasian, with an oval- shaped face and straight brown hair tied back in a ponytail. “I mean, I heard you talking about someone she had a crush on. So who was it?”

Carrie, not wanting to let him think they were talking about him (unless he was a mind reader as well, in which case he would already know), glanced up in his direction for a second before flipping her hand towards him. “Up by the tree. His name’s Silver. Or, well, that’s not really his name, but—”

“Is he the one doing flips off the tree?” asked the brown- haired girl. Carrie, surprised, looked. Sure enough, just as she looked, he backed up about five feet and began sprinting impossibly fast, so that one second he was standing vertically and the next he was horizontal in midair. His feet went over his head, but for a split second it seemed that he would fall on his face. Then he extended his arms and caught himself, rolling over a shoulder and bouncing to his feet again. He glanced down the hill to the four girls who were watching him. Sarita clapped. He gave a short bow and then backed up to do it again.

“Wow,” said the other girl. “That was… odd…” Carrie hid her head in her hands.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Sarita told her, flapping her wrist at Carrie. It was like a cool wave had washed all the anxiety away—her heart stopped thudding, and her face relaxed, free of worry.
“...Wow!” she exclaimed. “That—that was—”

“My power? Yeah. I’ve had lots of practice. It’s one of those powers that you can have, and nobody will guess as long as you make it seem natural.” She smiled.

“Can you use it on me?” inquired Tess. Sarita glanced at her, smiling, and Tess broke into a broad, bracy grin, and started laughing—something she hardly ever did. Carrie looked on, fascinated; the most she had ever seen her laugh that she could remember was a quiet snigger.
“Heh heh. Ha ha ha ha! Ha—that’s—ha—awesome! Why—ha ha—can’t my powers—be cool like that? Heh,” Tess gasped, in between fits of laughter.

“What are your powers?” asked Sarita.

“Oh, um—heh—electricity,” she said, coming off of her high.

“Really? That’s—that’s so cool! What a coincidence! Hey, Skye—” she turned to where her friend had been standing a moment before, but the space was empty. “Oh, don’t do this again,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Hang on a sec.” She closed her eyes and frowned, concentrating. Then she pointed up towards the hill. “There she is—invisible, and messing with your boyfriend, it looks like.”

As Carrie watched in half- terror, half- laughter, Silver backed up to spring into the tree again, but when he pushed off, he tripped. His arms flashed out, faster than the eye could see, to catch himself. Shifting his weight, he brought his legs around in a sweep. Skye flickered back into visibility, letting out a startled cry and falling onto the grassy hill. They both looked equally startled. Silver stood up and brushed the grass stains off his knees; Skye rubbed her shoulder, which she had fallen on.

They spoke, and although Carrie couldn’t hear the whole conversation, she caught snippets.

“—did you do that? What was that about?” he asked, not angry exactly; he was actually grinning crookedly.

“Just to see—react,” she heard Skye say. “But that hurt!” she rubbed her shoulder, making a big show of it. The three listeners moved higher up on the hill, trying to get in earshot.

“Sorry,” he told her, shrugging. “But wasn’t that totally cool? What a clean sweep! Took your legs right out from under you. Oh yeah, I’ve still got it.”

“That hurt,” she whined.

“Would have hurt me more if I hadn’t caught myself.”

“Okay, true.” She shrugged. “Sorry for trying to trip you.”

“It was a good test of my reflexes. Say, is one of those girls down there listening to us named Carrie?” Carrie’s heart stopped, or felt like it did—she panicked until she felt a wave of sympathetic energy wash over her, courtesy of Sarita.

“…I think so. I only just met her. Why?”

“Just that she’s in red-orange league, so she’s in my classes… plus, I just thought she should know that she can never out-ninja me, ever.” He looked around the tree, where Carrie, Tess, and Sarita were hiding. Carrie waved, shyly.

“H-hi,” she said, making herself look like a fool again. Sarita was frowning, concentrating on something.

“Hello. Were you admiring my wall-jumping skills? It’s all got to do with inertia, and I can do it anywhere, provided I have enough space for a running start and a suitably sturdy object to brace against. I’ve made it eight feet up once, before jumping—that was epic. Of course, my power has something to do with it, too. Although there’s plenty of ninja that weren’t mutants who could climb higher than me, which just proves that you don’t need powers to be awesome.”

“Wha—” Carrie was speechless. Was this the same guy that had snubbed her, not an hour ago? She quickly glimpsed at Sarita, who was still frowning and muttering to herself, and an uncomfortable premonition rolled over her. Was Sarita—was she messing with him? Was she messing with Carrie? What was she doing?

“Do you know anything about martial arts?” he asked.

“Um,” Carrie answered. “Some. I, uh, trained before I came here.” That was true. It had been a fairly big decision, leaving her studio behind.

“For how long? What belt rank were you?”

“Oh, um, seven years, I think. I had just gotten my black belt…”

“That’s cool! I’ve trained in lots of different styles over the years, so I’ve just sort of developed my own style from what I’ve learned. I call it Chijutsu.”

“Tha—that’s cool! Can I learn it?” asked Carrie. “I had to quit my training in order to come here. Although I don’t think I have much free time…”

“I doubt you could manage the training regimen,” he said, shrugging.

“Because I’m a girl?” she interjected, suddenly angry.

“No! Not because you’re a girl. It’s because I specifically designed it to be tailored to me, as in people with superspeed. Unless you think you can run ten laps around the track in five minutes? Because that’s how I warm up at 6 A.M. each morning. And ten’s getting too easy. I should raise it to fifteen.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. And now I’m doing the agility training—they told me I’m super-agile as well as being super fast, so I don’t think you or the average student could do this either,” he said, backing up and sprinting up the tree again. His feet thudded twice against the trunk as he kicked off, caught himself on his hands, and sprung backwards to his feet. While he did this, Carrie cast her gaze around for the other girls and realized they had left—they were down at the base of the hill again, reading or playing. Panic seized her—now that Sarita wasn’t there to theoretically control his feelings, would he reject her outright again?

“What style of martial arts do you do?” he asked in his velvet voice, causing her to jump. She sat on the boulder near the base of the tree, and he came and sat next to her.

“Oh, um. Kenpo, I think? With a N. Or maybe it was Kempo with an M? I’m, uh, not sure.”

“We’ll have to spar sometime.” He was completely serious.

“I think we’d be a little… mismatched. Not just because I’m a girl, or that I’m not as fit as you…”

“Oh, I’ll slow down,” he assured her.

“Like on the waltz?”

“…”

“Didn’t think so,” she said, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad about that or anything. I think it would be better to just do… like, Tai Chi or something. I was never really good at sparring, either.”

“I could do Tai Chi, too,” he agreed. “What do you know?”

“N- not much…” she admitted. “I was kind of hoping you would know something about it. It’s the thing where you’re simultaneously pushing and pulling, tense and relaxed?”

“That’s pretty much it,” he told her. “Here, you just put your hands together with another person and take turns resisting and giving, resisting and giving…”

“…Right,” she said, and a warm zephyr blew through. He was silent, as was she; she refused to say that the silence was awkward, because naming it would ruin the moment. If there was a moment there at all. She sighed.

“What’s up?”

“N- nothing… I’m… I’m sorry, this is all so confusing,” she said, feeling despaired. “I… I need to go hang out with Tess. We’ll… talk later, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, not particularly concerned. As she walked down the hill, though, he ran to catch up with her.

“Wait! There’s—you—” the romantic within Carrie noticed how close his face was, and how messy his hair was from rolling on the dirt. “You never told me what your powers were.”

“Oh,” she said. “I can summon animal spirits.”

Suddenly, the warm day seemed a little colder. “Like, ghosts?”

“Um, I guess you could call them that, but they’re a little more like… well, all the lore calls them spirits… they’re like a bunch of animal ghosts roped together, I guess. I can… show you…” she said, but he had turned away.

“See you tomorrow,” she barely heard him say, and again she was left watching him leave, confused and disappointed. It had been so lovely, so—so close—and then…

Walking down the hill, she rejoined the three girls at the bottom.

“How’d it go?” asked Tess cheerfully, but Sarita looked concerned.

“You’re unhappy,” she told her. “You were so happy, up until thirty seconds ago. What happened? What did he say? What did you say?”

“Were you messing with him?” Carrie demanded.

“Me? God, no,” Sarita said, raising her palms. “I may have made you a bit more confident, but that’s it.” Calming energy washed over Carrie, but it couldn’t pierce her sudden sullenness.

“I don’t actually know what happened,” she said, putting her chin on her hands. “He just asked about my powers, so I told him, and then he suddenly got all cold like earlier today—what did I say?”

“What did you say? What are your powers?”

“Summoning animal spirits,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t really see how that’s related at all… I mean, what could be offensive about that?”

Sarita exchanged glances with Skye. “Um… I don’t know really, but it sounds like… I mean, the last time there was someone with the power to revive the dead…”

“Which last time? I don’t know what you’re—” the school bell pealed, telling the campus that it was time for dinner. Sarita and Skye closed their books, and Tess shoved her DS into her pocket.
“You mean you really don’t know?” asked Skye. “Well, I daresay you’ll find out soon enough… I mean, it’s common history. Although if nobody taught you specifically, you might not know the details of course…”

“Just tell me!” she said despairingly.

“Dinnertime,” Sarita said as she left. “Ask a teacher, maybe. They’ll be able to explain it better than me, I’ll bet.”

Carrie pounded the table with her fist, hurting it. “God dang—why can’t anybody just tell me these things?” Tess shrugged, and the two of them started walking across the campus towards the main dining hall.
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Author's note

Can youuu count the references and cameos? Especially in the Audition and Club sections. I almost literally laughed, rereading it.

So, Silver. What can I say? He really, really is like that, and woe to the poor, lovesick Carrie that would fall for him. (They make a lovely socially awkward couple, don't they? The melodramatic and the narcissistic.) This is a-- no, better make it the-- romantic plot tumor in this book. (there are other subplots of course, but this being a triangle... oh, that's two chapters from now.) Hope you like it, otherwise you are free to skip all of Carrie's chapters, because they basically boil down to just that (not to mention abusing Tess and decrying her general failure. Yeah, I'm not nice to either of them. Ironic, considering...)

Sarita's utterly unlike her real-life counterpart, personalitywise. *shrug* She has one of the coolest powers, imo. (Why didn't I give it to a main character? Hindsight is 20-20.) Skye has a wonderful name and is also minor character. At first she was Tia, but that would be too convenient for reasons unrevealed.

Chapter 2 [Tess]

“I’m lost,” groaned the curly-haired girl as she and another girl walked an empty hallway. “There’s a tour now, but I don’t suppose it’ll do us much good if we can’t even find the place we’re supposed to meet!”

“I do have a map,” replied the other girl, who was shorter and skinnier, with flat, dirty- blonde hair, acne, and glasses.

“Yes, Tess, and we’ve looked at the map already! Fat lot of good it does if we don’t even know what building we’re in! This campus is so darn huge, you don’t need a map, you need a GPS!”
“Maybe we could ask someone?”

“Asking for directions is for wimps! C’mon, let’s go outside and see if we can see any landmarks.” The two girls rounded a corner, their eyes down, concentrating on the piece of paper in front of them. They didn’t see the other girl until it was too late. She fell backwards, catching herself on her hands but dropping her glasses in the process. The two girls stepped back, alarmed, but the other girl quickly located her glasses and brushed herself off, muttering a repeated apology.

“S- sorry! Are you all right?” inquired the taller girl. The other girl stood up, nodding.

“Where were you headed?” asked Tess.

“Oh, um, to the campus tours,” said the girl. She was Chinese, and she spoke with a light accent.

“Ha, that’s funny, so are we! But I’d say we’re pretty soundly lost. What’s your name and league?” That was the first girl.

“Lucy Fortuna,” she said. “I’m in, um… red- orange league, I think.”

“I’m Carrie Mann,” said the taller girl, grinning. “Red-orange league? So you’re a freshman too! Cool, high five!” Lucy returned a hesitant high-five while Tess muttered something about how obviously she was a freshman, since she was going on the campus tours and all.

“Actually, come to think of it… aren’t we in red-orange too?” Carrie asked, turning to Tess.

“I think so,” she said.

“Double awesome! So do you know where in heck we are?” Carrie asked Lucy.

“Um… not really, but I think we’re in the history building. I remember being told that the tours are supposed to meet downstairs, in this building’s cafeteria.”

“Woah, really? Told you so, Tess. You can never count out my navigational skills! I have Norwegian blood, you know. I can always tell north from south and east from west.”

“Not that it helps much,” said Tess.

“Shut up,” Carrie said, poking her. The three descended the nearest staircase and quickly got their bearings.

***

“Hey, here comes another group! Hey, froshies! Over here!” A tall, dark- haired boy waved to them as they turned a corner and entered a larger room, evidently a cafeteria due to the scattered chairs and tables. “You guys are here for the tour, right? Come on, quickly! Don’t keep me waiting much longer, I might just crack and turn into my evil alter ego and kill you all!” The three girls exchanged quick glances— was he serious?— but then joined the larger group, comprised mainly of confused- looking students such as themselves.

“There’s fifteen of them… you want to start now?” asked another upperclassman, a girl this time, indicated by the “Hello my name is Lisa” sticker on her chest.

“Eh, sure, why not? Tell them where they are right now, Lisa.”

“…Fine. So we’re in the History building right now, if you couldn’t tell,” said Lisa. While talking, she traced her finger in the air. A shining trail followed it and hung there, as she spelled out “History.” She continued, sketching a map of where they were. A blue, pulsing dot signified the location of the group as a map of the area materialized.

“Come, children!” waved the boy, whose name was Drew, and the group shuffled out after them, talking amongst themselves. Drew narrated for them (“You better hope you get Mr. Edwards for freshman year, I pity the fool that gets stuck with Mrs. Eleanor… yes, she really is that bad, thank you. Anyway the food here isn’t the best, they don’t serve burritos or rice— rice! But it’s free, like all school food, as long as you mark it to your food card. Have you lot gotten your food cards yet? They should be mailed to your dorm rooms by tomorrow.”) After making a circuit of both floors of the history building, they walked out onto the Academy proper. Drew pointed out the school store and café (“Not really a good place for a date, let me tell you, simply because everyone else takes their dates there too since it’s the only ‘special’ place to eat on campus, for a really good date and some variety in your diet you should try and get a weekend pass off- campus and go into town, there’s a pizza joint there that’s really good”). They rounded the corner of the freshman dorms— solidly- built brick buildings, intended more for warmth than elegance (“and you’ll be thankful for that, because come winter it gets ass cold here, especially with the air blowing off the lake”). Each level belonged to one League, with recreational areas in the basements. There was also a smaller courtyard out back, with a basketball hoop and some sports equipment that on closer inspection revealed to have… burn marks?

They left the freshman dorms and continued down the main way, only having the locations of Blue, Black, and White dorms pointed out to them (“they’re all the same anyway, except the booze stashes in the upperclassman dorms are bigger”). They explored the math building, and conjoined to it the science building. That one looked slightly different than the rest— more modern, almost, and the classrooms only barely resembled standard science lab rooms. They also didn’t go downstairs (Drew: “I’ve been down there a couple times myself, and it’s pretty cool and all but you won’t have any classes there, so there’s no real reason to show them to you. There’s more specialized labs down there.”)

They then had a walk-through of the arts building, with a massive stage that could theoretically fit the entire school, and then they walked down towards the playing fields, gym buildings, and the lake. By then, the tour was losing a little steam; the freshmen were dragging their feet, Lisa’s map, now very complex, was flickering on and off, and Drew was talking much less animatedly. The lake was interesting, however; it was huge, with sailboats visible off in the distance, and further down the coast there were houses. There was a wide area roped off by buoys for swimming, as well as a dock which had a motorboat hitched up to it and multiple kayaks stacked up nearby.

“Careful, though,” warned Drew. “They’re pretty lenient with the rule-breaking, but you probably shouldn’t get caught swimming out here more than once, or they’ll sic their sea bass with frickin’ laser beams on you. And… take my word for it, don’t swim if you’re a cyborg, or if you generate electricity.” Tess shifted uncomfortably. “Or… you know what, as lovely as a midnight swim with your girlfriend— or boyfriend, for the ladies— sounds, I really wouldn’t recommend it at all. They’ll give you a chance to swim, believe me, and there’s a lifeguard out here most free periods, but getting caught swimming after hours sucks. I dunno why the rules are so harsh, don’t ask me, I didn’t write them. Maybe they’ll afraid you’ll sabotage their secret underwater lab or something.” He chuckled. “Anyway, there’s lots of rules here, but don’t let that get you down. It’s really fun, and you’ll have a great time, believe me.”

Afterwards the group dissolved; most of the freshmen went back to the dorms to investigate them, while others drifted in different directions, to go and get their luggage or explore parts of the school that were under covered in the tour. Carrie, Tess, and Lucy were some of the last left standing by the lake.

“So…” said Carrie after a pause. “do you guys want to go do something?”

“I, ah…” Lucy looked down nervously. “I have to, um, pack. Er, unpack, I mean. I have to get my luggage from the van.”

“You didn’t take the bus?” asked Carrie, skeptical.

“N- no…” Lucy continued to avoid eye contact. “I rode in one of the school’s private vans.”

“Private?!” Carrie was flabbergasted. “how much did you pay to get that?”

“Nothing… I got a scholarship.”

“Whaat? No way! I thought Tess and I were the only ones! Dang, that makes me feel a lot less special.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t worry. It’s cool. We can be scholarship buddies.”

“Thank you. I really have to go though.”

“’Kay, right, don’t let me detain you,” Carrie said. Lucy took a few steps, turned around, waved, then turned back around and walked back towards the main way, leaving Carrie and Tess standing alone on the beach.

“Maybe we should go to our dorms?” suggested Tess.

“That’s an all right idea. Let’s set up our rooms and claim beds and things,” said Carrie, beginning to walk in the direction of the dorm. “So that’s three of us in the league so far out of, how many, eight?”

“Seems like.”

“And then there’s the boys’ league of course… hey, I wonder if any of them are cute?” Tess rolled her eyes and sighed. The two chattered all the way back to the Red dorms.

***

The day wore on, and the girls hung around the school, bored and waiting for something to happen.

“There’s meal time at six, right?” Carrie asked for the third time, checking her cell phone; it was four thirty.

“Yes, and then afterwards we’re going to the auditorium so they can lecture us on the school rules. For an hour, look at the schedule,” Tess said, holding out the sheet of paper she had been studying. Carrie reached for it, took it out of her friend’s hands, and didn’t even look at it.
“I’m sure they left the extra time on there so we can have more god dang free time, even though I already know this school like the back of my hand, it seems…”

“No, you don’t,” said Tess matter-of-factly. “We haven’t been downstairs in the science building, or into the main offices… and, hey, don’t they have a library? What about a computer lab? There’s plenty of exploration left to do.”

“Hey… you’re right! Let’s go, then!” Carrie leapt to her feet.

“Where to?”

“The science building basement, of course! Where else? I’ll bet they have all sorts of cool technology and stuff. Imprisoned super- entities. Genius computers. That sort of thing.”

“Gee, I can’t see this idea going wrong in the slightest,” groaned Tess as she stood up and followed the already mobile Carrie. The two girls rounded the café where they had been sitting outside and headed down the brick walkway towards the white building. Pushing open the doors, they found to no great surprise that it was completely deserted— some voiced echoed down from the rooms above, but nobody was walking the hallways.

“Nobody’s watching. Let’s go!” Carrie said, her voice almost a whisper, and together the two of them crept over to the door. It was unbolted, and swung open easily while Carrie touched it. They exchanged glances—both of them had been secretly hoping it would still be locked, but they realized there was no turning back now. It was, strangely, not dark; there was merely a clean, white staircase that descended to an even whiter corridor. The sound of machinery and air conditioning could be heard faintly. Tess started to take a step down, but Carrie threw an arm up.

“Wait a sec. I’m going to survey the situation.” She reached into her backpack and drew out a stick of white chalk. Turning, she knelt down and drew a circle on the tiled floor, muttering under her breath. After drawing multiple auxiliary circles and lines, she closed her eyes and clasped her hands together with the chalk. Light flared out of the diagram, coalescing into a small, four- legged shape. The light faded from the circle, and the spirit rat opened the yellow slits in its head to look at the two girls.

“Go look down there for me, will you? Be my eyes.” Carrie closed her eyes touched two fingers first to her eyelids and then to the rat’s head, and the rat ran downstairs.

“Nothing special here, really,” Carrie narrated. “Just a hallway like this one… oh, here’s the first room. Looks like there’s a bunch of empty beakers here, a computer or two… normal computers, Tess, don’t get excited. Okay, nothing special, next room. Yeah, this one’s a little more interesting, there’s scales here for height and weight, and a skeleton model, and a display screen that’s turned off. It looks kind of like a doctor’s office, there’s a table over there… surgical table? Maybe… woah, that’s kinda creepy. Okay, next room. Oh, this is the same as the previous one, next room. Lots of computers here, plus another big display screen… maps, charts, statistics… dang, I can’t read it, curse these rat eyes, I shoulda used a cat instead. Moving on. Oh… this one’s bolted. Must be pretty serious. Oh, wait, hang on. Behind that cart in the hallway, is that an uncovered outlet? Looks like! Let’s see if we can’t get through here. Wires, wires, darkness… light! Ouch, my eyes. And, we’re in. Wow. That’s just… huh?”

Carrie’s narration was cut off by a noise that both the girls heard— a blaring of an alarm. Carrie opened her own eyes and released the binding on the spirit rat, got to her feet and ran, with Tess following in close proximity. As the girls rounded the corner, they heard footsteps and voices. The teachers from upstairs must have discovered the unlocked door, and were now shouting at each other and on the intercom. The two girls rushed outside, taking a second to catch their breath before heading back to the freshman dorms at a brisk walking pace, so as to not seem too suspicious.

“What did you see?!” Tess asked once the door of their dorm closed safely behind them.

“You’ll never believe me,” Carrie said, grinning and shaking her head.

“Try me.”

“They have a real underwater lab. The dude on the tours wasn’t kidding.”

Tess was silent for a few seconds before saying, quietly, “woah.” And then, “So what did you see?”

“Not much. I must have crossed a motion-sensor beam or something, I don’t know… what I did see, though, was… well. It was huge. There was this—this glass dome ceiling thing, and there was, like, some sort of circular racetrack… there were the vertical tube things, for growing specimens and the like. They were empty, though. No Mewtwo,” she said, still grinning.

“That’s… let’s not go back there again, though,” said Tess, shaking her head back and forth as if to clear the memory. “I’d rather not break rules if I have to.”

“They’re not rules if they haven’t told it to us yet,” said Carrie. “That means they can’t hold it against us in court. We can claim that we didn’t know.”

“Yeah? Why would they be bringing us to court over anything?”

“I’m not saying they will, I’m just saying that even if they try, I can argue our way out.”

“Your argument doesn’t make sense, either,” Tess pointed out. “I’m sure the fact that there was a ‘do not enter’ sign on the door pretty clearly helps their argument. Plus, all they’d need to do is call in that guy from the tours, and he can tell them that he warned us against going in there.”

“Eh.” Carrie shrugged. “I’ll debate my way out of it somehow. Speaking of, did I tell you that I’m taking debate?”

“Oh. Really? Why?”

“Why not? And yeah, it seemed like fun. I really don’t know the first thing about it, though.”

“Well. Okay. I’m going to see if there’s a computer I can use,” said Tess, standing up.

“Hah! I have a laptop! Your argument is invalid! Do you suppose they have free wireless internet here?”

“Why wouldn’t they? Everything else is free.”

“I didn’t read about it in the brochure, so I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me if they did, though. I’ll give it a try.”

“Okay,” said Tess, “see you at dinner!”

***

The bell tolled, telling the early arrivals, such as they were, that dinner would be served. Most of the present student body was unfamiliar with the procedures, so they were going to go over the dining area rules before people got to eat. Carrie noted that some people, apparently unable to bear to wait, had brought small snacks from the school store or elsewhere. The upperclassmen that did arrive before the start of term were off somewhere else, possibly in town; they had no interest in hearing what they already knew. The rest of the confused masses gathered where their schedules told them to—by the main cafeteria attached to the art building, waiting to be sorted by dorm. There were about 60 freshmen in all. They stood around in clumps and chattered, many of them having already formed loose groups or cliques with people they had just met.

Silence fell over the crowd when the previously- shut door to the building opened, and a teacher walked out. She seemed to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with blonde hair that fell around her shoulders in ringlets, and she held a megaphone. She waved and jumped up in the air, but didn’t fall. She casually, almost lazily drifted upwards in a smooth arc, and everyone’s heads craned upwards to look at her as she levitated in midair.

“Always gets their attention,” she said, perhaps to herself and perhaps to her colleagues that had also stepped out of the building after her, and then raised the megaphone to her lips. “All right, everyone! Welcome to Gladiator Academy for Empowered Adolescents! In a few minutes, you will be guided inside to have some food and sit down! Before you do that, I need to tell you the process for getting your food, so we avoid any accidents or holdups!

“When you enter the building, please leave all your bags in the freshman section of the bag room! Do not mix it up with the bags of other grades! Also do not try and steal anything! You will be caught! After that, head into the main cafeteria, which the signs will indicate is to the left as you leave the room! You will go to the food area and choose from our varied selection! It is recommended that you eat a healthy diet! Do not go for seconds until we say you can ten minutes into mealtime! After eating, place your trays and utensils in the respective bins for washing and proceed directly to the auditorium! Bon appétit!” The two teachers at the doors stepped aside, and the swarm of freshmen rushed in, threw whatever bags they were carrying into a haphazard pile, and moved into the dining hall. It was decidedly average, nothing particularly supernatural about it. Nor was there much that was supernatural about the food, or even natural at all. And yet the starved fourteen-year-olds were willing to eat artificial burgers, so they dumped them onto their trays, grabbed chocolate milks by the dozen, and arranged themselves awkwardly around the circular tables in the eating area.

Carrie and Tess found two empty seats at a table that was also occupied by two girls and one boy: one girl was short, with a red- dyed lock of hair; the other was dirty- blonde, and Carrie noticed that when she lifted her hand to eat, her fingers were webbed. The boy was taller than Carrie, with dark brown hair and a cheerful, comedic expression.

The short girl waved; Carrie grinned a little shyly and gave a little wave back before taking a seat.

“Hi!” the short girl said. “Who’re you and what league are you in?”

The girl’s friendliness was a pleasant surprise. “I— I’m Carrie Mann, and I’m in the red- orange league. So’s she,” she said, gesturing at Tess.

“Can she speak?” asked the boy, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“I think so,” chuckled Carrie.

“Yeah, I can,” said Tess. “I’m Tess Larson.”

“Neato! I’m Aubrey Loskin,” chirped the short girl. “Pleased to meetcha! I’m in red- yellow though…”

“I’m Keli Spencer,” said the other girl, her voice much quieter and calmer. “I’m in red- orange league too, so I guess that means we’re leaguemates.”

“Aww, I’m stuck introducing myself last? That’s only a teensy bit awkward,” said the boy. “Lucas Montel, red- purple league. I have telekinesis,” he added, lifting an apple up off his tray with a twitch of his pointer finger.

“Oh, well, if we’re talking powers, Tess here,” Carrie said, patting her friend on the back, “can generate electricity. But she has to shout ‘Pikachu!’ in order to do it.” That got a laugh from the group, while Tess objected that she really didn’t have to say anything actually.

“Yes, well, that’s all fine and dandy. What about you, though?” asked Lucas.

“Oh, well… my powers are a little complicated actually…”

“Don’t worry, even if you power is something like having perfect dental hygiene, we’ll still tell you it’s cool,” said Aubrey.

“Oh, well, it’s nothing like that,” said Carrie, laughing nervously. “I can summon animal spirits, provided I say a prayer and draw a summoning circle.”

“Why so shy then?! That’s way cool! Care to show us?” asked Aubrey.

“Um. Okay, I suppose,” she said, not willing to admit she was nervous that someone might recognize the spirit as similar to the one she had summoned earlier that day. “Oh. Hang on, I’ve got to go get my chalk.” She stood up and walked out. Tess stole one of her French fries.

“Doesn’t it bother you when she speaks for you like that?” Lucas asked, curious.

“Not really,” Tess mumbled, continuing to help herself to Carrie’s food. “She’s done it for as long as I’ve known her. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, you mean you knew each other before you came here? How long have you known each other for?” asked Aubrey, eyes wide.

“Um… since first of second grade, I think,”

“Woah! That’s— did you meet because of your… you know, your powers?”

“Not really… we went to the same school, see, and one day at recess she was crying, and I asked her what was wrong. She said something about her dad leaving… the teachers found her and grought her inside, but for some reason she wanted me to stay. I dunno. I heard the whole story from the faculty, but I don’t remember much except for finding out she was Empowered, like me. It just sort of went from there.”

“Telling them my life story?” interjected Carrie, who had returned. “Why not wait ‘til I’m around, eh? No, don’t worry, I’m not mad, you just leave out all the good details.” She held out the chalk. “Now. You guys want to see?” The group nodded, and Carrie pushed away her tray of food (now nearly empty, save for the salad) and sketched a circle on the table. She muttered the prayer, different than the one she had said earlier and the light flare coalesced into the shape of a cat. The rest of the table, save Tess, oohed. Some heads from the surrounding tables turned too, but then went back to eating— there were multiple people demonstrating their powers, and many were desensitized to strange phenomena.

Aubrey reached out towards the cat’s shining fur. “Can I pet it?”

“Sure,” Carrie said, pocketing her chalk. The girl ran her marked hand down the cat’s back, and was soon joined in stroking it by Keli.

“It’s cool!” Aubrey gasped. “The fur, I mean. It’s not warm or anything.”

“Yeah,” said Carrie. “That’s because it isn’t really alive. It’s a cat spirit— well, really many different cat spirits— temporarily bound to the living world. It’ll last only for a few minutes. The shining cat leaps off the table and stalked underneath, snaking around feet and chair legs until it found a scrap of dropped chicken, which it gleefully ate.

“Wait— so how does that work? You mean it’s a ghost?” asked Keli.

“Yeah, pretty much. I don’t know that much about it, to be honest. What I do know is that animal souls, for whatever reason, aren’t complete like human souls are, so that when they die, part of their soul dies with them. The remaining part can’t reach whatever afterlife full souls have, so it sort of lurks around the edges. I call up multiple souls, piece them together so they resemble the animal they once were, and they obey me unconditionally.” She shrugged.

“Woah, that’s like… mythical. Mystical. Something like that,” gaped Aubrey.

“Eh. I don’t think it’s as cool as shooting lightning, really. Anyway, I’ve been hogging the spotlight for too long. What’re you guys’ powers?”

Keli demonstrated her water powers while Aubrey explained her abilities and told her life story again, and then the conversation drifted to more casual topics. Soon after that, everyone had cleared their plates and trickled into the adjacent auditorium, where the chatter of sixty kids— and more, as upperclassmen trickled in— filled the room. After a few more minutes, a man stepped out onto the stage, holding a microphone. He raised his other arm, hand outstretched, and as he slowly brought it down, the house lights dimmed. The crowd fell quiet. A twitch of his pinky caused the spotlight to shine on him, and he spoke.

“The meaning of ‘superhero’,” he began, in a deep, commanding voice, “has changed vastly in my lifetime. Before I was born, those that were empowered were seen as gods, demons, freaks— never humans, never the same as the majority. Then, come the Acid Plague and the Black Rapture, they were seen as something else— scourges of mankind. Only through effort, and blood, sweat, and tears, have we clawed our way up, searching for the one thing we were never given— respect. I was born in the 1940s, and I barely remember the Black Rapture— yet I still see it in my nightmares. That was the epitome of power gone wrong!” His voice went louder on the word “wrong,” echoing through the auditorium. “We, here at Gladiator Academy, are fighting to change that! It is our goal that no child in this generation will cause the next Black Rapture!
“I realize that none of those new to this academy know who I am. I go by many names. When I was your age, my friends called me Surge— my enemies, ‘freak’ or ‘demon.’ I shed all of these names when I became an adult, choosing one that some of you might be a bit more familiar with: Luxor.” The freshmen murmured amongst themselves; Luxor was a figure from the post- rapture rebuild of the 1960s, a villain who turned hero to advocate Empowered rights, and then vanished from the public eye. “Nowadays, I am simply known as Damien Luciparr— my given name. I am the principal of Gladiator Academy.

“The role of this school in your lives is more than a mere process of education and preventative measures against turning. No, the fact is that this school, in fact the establishment that supersedes the framework of a simple educational facility, is the primary method by which we shall advance forward into the new millennium. Nowhere are there so many brilliant young Empowered minds. Thus, our secondary goal is discovery. Many mysteries still surround the existence and abilities of persons such as us. Your independent contribution to this greater goal will forward the development of humankind, Empowered and non- empowered alike. Already, much technology has been developed that draws on discovering the processes that fuel the powers you are born with— the vaccine for the Acid plague, for one, and the cure for cancer. Technology such as this can used for both good and evil, but be assured! Our efforts are only for the greatest good of all! We will build a future where all stand equal, in a beautiful world free of the ills that plague us.”

Hasty muttering filled the auditorium— nobody was quite sure what to make of this man who stood on the stage, claiming to be a supervillain from a bygone era and spouting passionate words of nonsense. Damien Luciparr’s eyes were literally shining with light, and sparks crackled around his skin. As he paused, though, the light faded from his eyes and the sparks slowed down and vanished. The house lights came up a little, but not much.

“Now, then,” he said, his voice more level, “let’s discuss the basics of what being a student here means. We all have great power, and with that comes an even greater burden— those are the immortal words of one of the greatest heroes ever to live. We are all responsible for our own actions. Know that any rule we set down is only for your own good. We are not trying to restrain your enjoyment of these next four years. We are merely creating an environment that we hope will be safe and conducive to everybody’s development. Knowing this, there are a few basic rules you must follow.

“First, the faculty building and the bottom floor of the science building are always off- limits unless you are with a teacher and have explicit permission. Additionally, the beach is off- limits without supervision by a designated teacher. You must obtain a specific pass from the main administration in order to leave campus, such as to go to town. Your student handbook contains more information on the procedures for obtaining such a pass. Curfew is eleven. Students found out- of- dorms after eleven, without specific reason, will be given work duty.” Carrie and Tess exchanged guilty glances in the darkness when he mentioned the science building.

“Second, regarding use of your powers: follow the golden rule of superheroes. Do not use your abilities where it could put you or others in jeopardy. You shall never use your powers to harm another person, be it student or faculty. Your first offense begets work detail, second suspension, and third has more permanent repercussions.” That past part sounded ominous, as if there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Third. Your responsibilities as a student. You must respect this campus, your classes, and your materials. We will provide all the materials your classes will need and replace those that are broken, but you must treat everything and everyone on this campus with respect. Truancy will not be tolerated; details of punishments for truancy can be found in your student handbook as well.

“Lastly. Your fellow students. Respect, unsurprisingly, is the key word here. We are not asking you to get along with everyone, not even your leaguemates. But we will not create archenemies for ourselves. Learning to work with everyone, even people that you do not necessarily agree with, is one of the skills you will learn by working with your League. Also, underclassmen are not to be caught in the opposite gendered dorms; we maintain a policy of abstinence. We believe that romance comes second to your learning and development of your abilities.” He stopped talking, and the house lights came up all the way, and students started talking again.

“Quiet! You have not been dismissed yet. The other administrative staff will now introduce themselves; these are people you will be working with throughout the year. There have been some staff changes this year, so returning upperclassmen should pay attention as well.” He handed the mic off to a blonde woman who had stepped up on stage.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and velvety. “I am Helen Romanov, and I am the vice principal. I manage the guidance department and deal with student- to- student and student- to- teacher communications. You may approach me if you are having problems along those lines.” She then handed it to another man, this one scruffy and gray- haired, with salt- and- pepper stubble.
“I’m Horace Clayr,” he said, his voice raspy. “I am the… assistant advisor to Mr. Luciparr, and director of extracurricular activities.” He coughed into his elbow. “Ahem. You will be speaking to me if you wish to found a club or if there are problems with your joining clubs or teams.” The next man that took the mic was tall, thin and bald, dressed entirely in white with a coat that looked suspiciously like a lab coat. He put in mind the image of an alien, pr perhaps a mad scientist, which is what he probably was.

“I am Dr. Von Dieu, director of the science and mathematics section,” he said, his voice colored with some east European accent. The next person to step up was a brunette woman, who was short but wiry, and walked with a spring in her step.

“I’m Elisa Franklin, director of the arts department. Just so you know, there will be an official theatrical production again this year. Signups will be in the main dining hall, posted in a couple weeks.” The next person to take the mic was a middle- aged man.

“I am Davy Edwards, director of social studies,” he said, and the mic went down the line from there. The students were introduced to the physical education director and senior security manager, and the deans for each building. By the end, the students were barely paying attention—it took the greater body of kids a minute to notice that the last person was done speaking and the house lights had fully come up.

Carrie and Tess, along with Keli Spencer, left the building and walked towards the freshman dorms.

“I think my head’s gonna burst,” groaned Carrie, holding her palms against her temple for emphasis. “There was so much stuff there! I’m afraid I’m gonna forget it all and get work detail or something!”

“It’s mostly like regular school rules,” remarked Keli. “Besides, it’s all there in your student handbook.”

“Yeah, and that’s the other thing. I don’t remember ever getting any handbook.”

“They’ll probably be waiting for us in our rooms when we get there,” offered Tess. The three opened the door to the freshman girls’ dorm and ascended to the second floor.
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Author's notes:
Hope you like introductions! Yeah so anyways Carrie and Tess. We'll develop their relationship later. They are colossal nerds.

As awesome as Aubrey and Lucas are, we won't be seeing much more of them, which I regret. Anyone get the reference in Lucas' name? Obvious hint: he has PSI powers...

Damien Luciparr loves hearing the sound of his own voice. This isn't the only speech he's gonna give.

Having a map of the school would be extra-convenient, wouldn't it? I should probably make that. (I have one sketched in real life.)