Just Super

I hate this school.

It’s so big. Which is, of course, because every marked kid in the country goes here. That’s two thousand, five hundred, and sixty-one students (as of today), every one of them with a mark that gives them some sort of power.

Take Louis. His mark makes him strong enough to be in the top five strongest kids at the school. He claims he’s first, because he’s got the best bench, but everybody knows it’s more complicated than that. In any case, he thinks this makes him hot shit. He thinks that makes him somebody.

Half the kids here are like that. Each one thinks that their mark makes them somebody. They think they’ll be superheroes, when the best most of them can hope for is being some backbencher on a Rapid Incursion Response Team. Before they got their mark, they were probably nobodies, and what they don’t get is that they still are. Then there’s me. 

I was somebody, before I got marked. I was the only sophomore on the varsity baseball team. I’d won my division in two Tae Kwon Do tournaments. Everyone at Roger McGee High School knew who I was, and I had a plan for my life.

Then I got my mark in the middle of a game, teleported without even knowing what I was doing, and it was all over. I got sent off to The School, where I was just one more marked kid. A nobody.

At least I know it, unlike Louis over there. He thinks being (arguably) second best by some pointless metric means something. Sadly, he’s got that jock aura that attracts cronies, which only encourages him. Worse, he’s got a temper. Someday, he’s going to realize how much of a nobody he is, and he’s going to hurt someone.

Why shouldn’t that someday be today?

Right now he’s eating his lunch alone at one of the concrete picnic tables in the courtyard. It’s obvious that people are steering clear of him because he’s in a bad mood. I have it on good authority that this bad mood is because his girlfriend dumped him this morning. 

Some people say you shouldn’t kick a guy when he’s down. I say that, if you’re going to kick them anyway, that’s the best time.

I look around the courtyard at the other kids near enough to Louis to be useful. There are a few whose powers I’m unsure of, but I don’t need to worry about them, because I see the perfect target.

She’s sitting by herself, but, unfortunately, she’s a little close to a couple other kids who don’t have her levels of survivability. I can fix that.

I flicker over to her and take a seat on the grass.

“Sally, right?” I ask.

She looks at me and gives me the slightest nod.

“Frank Doyle,” I introduce myself. “I was wondering if you might like to get dinner one night next week.”

Here’s the thing. Sally is a senior, and reasonably hot. I am a junior, and, while I had no problem getting dates back at my old school, that’s when I was a star athlete, and in noticeably better shape than I am now.

“I don’t think so,” she replies. 

“You don’t think so,” I hate myself a little as I say, “So you might change your mind?”

She shakes her head in annoyance, gets up, and moves a little way across the courtyard. Perfect. I glance between her and Louis, and pick a point near Louis where I’ll be between the two of them. I’m almost, but not quite, in his personal space. It’s uncomfortable, but I am nothing if not committed to the bit.

“Hey, Louis,”

He looks up.

“What?”

“I heard that Darla dumped you. I just wanted to let you know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“Why the fuck would I want to talk to you?”

“Well, you don’t seem to be having a lot of luck with the ladies. I mean, that’s what, three in two months?”

“Frieda didn’t dump me. I dumped her.”

“Of course. I’m just saying, maybe you need some advice on technique.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t be like that, Louis. I only want to help. Even the fourth strongest guy in the school needs help every once in a while.”

“First!” he insists.

“Sure, whatever. My point is, if you’re having trouble—”

He stands up. “I’m giving you one more chance to walk away, Frank.”

I take a couple steps back.

“Wow, hostile. No wonder you keep getting dumped.”

I don’t know if he’d behave any differently if he didn’t know what I can do, but it doesn't really matter. Without further warning, he grabs the four hundred pound bench he was just sitting on, and hurls it at me. Perfect.

I flicker just a couple feet to the side so that I can see his face. His expression when he sees Sally right in the path of the bench is priceless.

The following look of relief is less entertaining, but not unexpected. I saw the flash of movement after all. I turn to see a petite blonde in jeans and a t-shirt standing a foot off the ground, a couple of feet in front of Sally, holding the bench.

“What the fuck, Louis!” Sally shouts.

“It’s not my fault!” Louis yells. “It’s this asshole’s.”

He takes a step toward me. I stand my ground for the moment. I don’t think I’ll need to flicker away, but I’m ready to, if the need arises. It doesn’t.

The blonde, Emily English, flashes smoothly through the air until she’s directly between Louis and me, facing Louis.

“You need to chill out, Louis. You can’t go around throwing things at people, no matter how much—” she shoots a quick glare in my direction, then turns back to him. “—they deserve it.”

“Get out of my way, Emily. This is between me and Doyle.”

Emily doesn’t budge.

Louis’s fist is clenched at his side. This is even better than I hoped. I don’t think he’s going to be stupid enough to throw down, but a guy can hope. I’d pay good money to see these two fight.

He takes a quick step forward. Emily doesn’t flinch.

This has drawn some attention, and other kids are gathering around at a safe(ish) distance. I hadn’t taken that into account. With this many witnesses to see him back down, it wouldn’t take more than a few words to set him off. 

“Hey, Louis,” I say.

“What, asshole?”

“Never mind.” It would be too easy. I flicker into the cafeteria. I can still see Louis and Emily, because I know where to look, but I’m far enough away that they’re not going to spot me.

Emily says something to Louis. He shakes his head and looks away, then says something. This time Emily shakes her head. I flicker closer, making sure I’m out of Louis’s line of sight. 

“—counselor.” Emily finishes.

“I don’t need—” Louis replies, but stops when Emily gestures at the bench.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll make an appointment.”

Damn. She’s good.

He retrieves the bench and puts it back where it belongs. Then he sits down and puts his head in his hands.

Emily makes a beeline to me. She stops in front of me. We’re eye-to-eye, which would be odd, since I’m five-eleven to her five-two, but she’s standing on air several inches off the ground.

“Emily,” I say.

“Why, Frank?” she says. “Why do you do this?”

“I was just talking to Louis. Who knew he’d get so pissed off?"

She rolls her eyes at that.

“What would have happened if I hadn’t been here?” she asks. “Sally could have gotten splattered.”

“But you were here, and you saved the day, so it’s all good.”

“I’m tired of stepping in to stop your disasters.”

“No one asked you to. Sally would have been fine, anyway. She can heal from anything.”

“And she doesn’t feel pain?”

She’s got me there. But it isn’t like she wasn’t going to show. Emily always has to grandstand.

“You really need to stop this crap,” she says, then drops to the ground, turns, and walks back toward her friends.

She is so infuriating.

It’s almost the end of lunch when I get a message.

Kyle: Outside gym. Get your ass here!

I’d ignore him, but the satisfaction from a job well done is already wearing off. I flicker.

I’m in the hall between the locker rooms and the main gym with Kyle and Len. They should be heading to their after-lunch classes, but I play along because, even though this will probably make them late, I can get to class on time.

“I’ve got an idea,” Kyle announces.

If I were smart, I’d flicker to class here and now. But if I were smart, I wouldn’t have started hanging out with them in the first place.

“Shocker,” says Len, “I thought you brought us here to look at the walls.”

“What is it?” I ask, ignoring Len. Always a wise move.

“We take pictures of the inside of the girl’s locker room and post them on the Wall.”

Now I know why Kyle didn’t invite the other member of our little group. If Marie were here, he’d be crashing into one of the nearby pillars about now.

“Problems with this idea,” I begin ticking them off on my fingers, “One -- That’s messed up. Two -- We could get kicked out. Three -- That’s messed up. Four -- We might even get arrested, which we would deserve because—five, that’s messed up.”

“No, man,” Kyle explains, “it’ll be empty right now. We take the pictures now, and the girls will freak out that a boy was able to get in there, but we won’t really have done anything wrong. Win-win!”

This is wrong on more levels than I think I can explain, so I decide to focus on one major problem first.

“By we,” I say, “you mean me, right?”

“Well, yeah, dude,” Kyle answers, “You said you could teleport anywhere.”

That is true. I had said that. It isn’t true, but since I’ve figured out the trick to my power, I am confident I can flicker almost anywhere, given some lead time.

“The girls’ locker room isn’t just any place though,” I say, “It’s blocked by magic.”

“Isn’t the whole school blocked by magic?”

“I don’t know if it’s magic or something else.”

“But you can teleport in and out, right?”

I don’t bother to answer. He knows I can. And, as far as I’ve been able to find out, no one else except Checkers can do that. I have my own limitations, of course, but, so far, nothing has been able to block me. This is different.

Honestly, I think I might be able to get in, but that isn’t my real problem with the idea. Yeah, my whole thing is pissing people off, or making them uncomfortable. But I don’t think I’ve, mostly, made people feel unsafe. Not for more than a minute or so, anyway. And I’m pretty sure a lot of girls are going to feel unsafe if they think a guy can sneak into the one place they’ve been guaranteed that would never happen.

But I focus on something else. “But how would they know a guy had taken the picture?”

“Duh,” Kyle answers, “we’d say so on the post.”

“But why would anyone believe that? It could just be a picture a girl took.”

“You could show your junk,” Len decides to chime in.

“A -- no, B -- I could maybe be identified by that? and C -- there are several girls that could pull that off.”

“Pfft, they’re not—”

“Not. Posting. Dick. Pic,” I interrupt him before he can finish a sentence that I really don’t want to deal with.

They try to come up with something else, but by that time, the next class is pouring in, so the moment passes. I flicker to class, leaving my henchmen to fend for themselves. Unfortunately, Kyle’s idea sticks in my head.

I’ve just finished my homework when I hear our apartment door open..

“Hey, Mom!” I call out.

“Hi, honey,” my mom answers, “How was school?”

I walk out to the living room.

“It was fine.”

“Have you been outside today?”

Ugh. This again.

“Not really. I had homework.”

She looks me up and down. 

“Honey, are you getting any exercise at all?”

I know what she’s thinking. Since being shipped off to The School made all worthwhile physical activity pointless, I’ve lost all that definition I used to have. I’m not fat, by any stretch, but I’m soft.

“Mom…”

“You used to be so handsome. Why don’t you go for a walk while I order dinner? It’ll be good for you.”

“Maybe after.”

She sighs and walks out of the living room.

After I clean up from dinner, I play some video games for a while.

Mom’s probably right. I should get outside, get more exercise.

I don’t see the point, though. If I could play ball again? Sure, that would be worth it. Same if I could compete in Tae Kwon Do. But The School doesn’t have a baseball team, and my mark keeps me out of any normal leagues. And as for Tae Kwon Do, so many kids have powers that put them totally out of my league that it would be depressing to even try.

And exercise just to get back in shape? Getting those muscles back isn’t going to make me any happier with myself. It’s not worth the effort. 

I shut down my computer. I might as well shower tonight so I can sleep in a little in the morning.

While the shower warms up, I rub my face. I’m going to need to shave. It’s not that I have that much stubble yet, but I know how visible it gets, with my dark hair and fair skin. At least I can deal with it in the shower.

When the water is finally warm enough, I step into the shower. I can’t help but think about Kyle’s stupid idea. Obviously I’m not going to take pictures, but getting in some place I’m not supposed to? The challenge is hard to resist. But I’ll have to be completely certain that no one will be there.

It’s Monday morning, which means every student should be in the auditorium for a school-wide assembly. This is the only time I’ve been able to think of that will give me the hundred percent certainty I need. Well, the only one that won’t get me instantly caught. The administration monitors for anyone in The School outside of regular hours. Don’t ask me how I know that.

I intentionally avoid the other three members of the goon squad. We usually sit near each other at stuff like this, but it’s a simple thing to watch for them to come in, then flicker to another part of the auditorium. The fact that this startles the kids I appear near is just an added bonus.

When official school time says it’s five minutes until the assembly will begin, I flicker to the gym. It’ll be easier to focus and find a way in without the noise of the crowd around me.

First, I just try to have walked in, which of course doesn’t work.

Sorry, I’ll back up.

If I bother to explain my mark to someone, I usually say it lets me teleport. Effectively, that’s accurate enough, but that’s not what it really does. What it does is let me retcon reality, which sounds really impressive, but it only lets me change my personal reality—and only to make me be somewhere I could have been anyway.

That’s why I can flicker to The School when it’s surrounded by wards that block all teleportation. The only other person who can bypass the wards is Checkers. My first day at the school, she teleported me here just like she does every other kid. After that, I could get here on my own, since I could have gone to the local pickup point and let her teleport me in.

The further back in time the change would have been, the harder it is for me to take advantage of it. Imagine it like a weird kind of time travel. As if I were rushing back along my own worldline, making some different decision, then coming back to the present I’d left, but in the place I’d have been if I made that decision.

Sometimes things get a little weird. One time I was sitting on the sofa and flickered to the kitchen to get a drink. When I flickered back to the sofa, I didn’t have the drink. When I got up and went to the kitchen to look, the glass I used was back in the cabinet, empty.

The longer ago the branch point I have to imagine, the more likely stuff like that is to happen. I’ll show up at my destination wearing a different shirt, still mine, but not the one I’d been wearing, or different pants. Once I even ended up with a fresh haircut I’d never gotten.

The other weirdness about the trickier teleports is that they actually take effort. Flickering across the room is as easy as breathing (usually, anyway), but when there’s not an obvious what-if for me being where I want to be, it takes a kind of effort, and it doesn’t happen instantaneously.

But I digress.

Like I said, just trying to flicker in doesn’t work, any more than trying to walk in would. I’m not even one-hundred percent sure where the door is. Apparently, girls see an open doorway there, and can walk right through, but all I can see is an unbroken stretch of wall. I’ve run my hand along it before, and no part felt any different from any other part.

First, I start pushing into the idea of being in that locker room. That’s what it feels like, anyway, when I do this. Like I’m trying to push my body through an invisible barrier, in some direction that doesn’t exist.

Next, I start running down what-ifs. What if they had built the boys’ locker room where the girls’ locker room ended up? I don’t really expect that to work, because, so far, it is always something about me that has to change, not the world. I keep it up for almost a minute, though, because it is what I can think of.

I don’t want to do the next one, and I doubt it will work, but, what if I were wearing girls’ clothes? The problem here is that I really doubt the magic wards would let me through based on that. There are multiple kids at The School who can be wearing pretty much whatever they want with a thought. What about with makeup, padding, and everything?

I keep pushing, with no luck. I don’t really have anything else, but I keep pushing anyway. The world around me is getting blurry. I know that if there were anyone here to see me, to them, I’d be the one that looks blurry. My mark slides off the back of my hand, where it’s been for a while now, up my arm and under my sleeve.

That doesn’t worry me. It’s normal, to the extent that anything about my power is normal, when I am trying for a really unlikely destination.

I’m close to giving up. Whoever made the wards is too good. I already knew that, of course, but it is sinking in.

I think about who the wards do let in. The simplest sounding answer is “girls,” but what does that mean, to the wards? Trans girls get in, whether they’ve had any sort of physical transition or not, and guys who can shapechange don’t get in, even if they look like a girl.

So, ignoring the possibility of some sort of spiritual filter, which I definitely can’t do anything about, it has to be about state of mind. If I feel like a girl, will it let me in? That seems like the best line of attack.

I barely notice the world getting blurrier and blurrier around me.

One big problem: I have no idea what it means to “feel like a girl.” Hell, I don’t know what “feeling like a boy” feels like. That is what has always confused me about trans kids. How do they know? I just figure I must feel like a boy because I am one.

As far as I can tell, the only way I’d feel like a girl, is if when I looked at myself, I saw—

I know what I’ve done an instant before the world snaps back into focus.

I’m in the girls’ locker room. I look down at myself.

Girl.

I panic. If I hadn’t tried this stupid stunt, I’d still be in the auditorium, and a boy.

Suddenly I’m back in the auditorium, but, still a girl.

If I hadn’t come to school today—

In my bedroom, still a girl.

In the school cafeteria.

Girl.

Auditorium again.

Girl.

Boys' locker room!

Girl. After all, there are no wards there.

I flicker probably fifty or more places, and end up back in the auditorium. People are staring now, because I keep flickering in and out. That, and they probably don’t recognize me. I try to flicker back home, to give myself time to think, but I can’t. The teleports are getting harder and harder. For the first time, I’ve worn my power out. Myself, too. The world goes gray around me, and my ears start ringing. I just need to—