My first day of school isn't until tomorrow, but I hate being idle on a Monday. Besides to maintain my physique, being lazy just doesn't cut it. My pretend mother is in the kitchen getting ready for work, "I'm sorry Logan, but your car won't make it here until noon. It's kinda hard moving everything thing so quickly. I hope you settle in great!"
I hate her fake smile. Her blonde hair has just as many products in it as the hair care aisle of a Walmart. Her name is agent Carlene and they decided she'd be perfect for the role of 'suburban mom'. Really, she's portrayed herself to be as fake as a 'Real Housewife' and her 'job' is manning the Dior perfume counter at a Dillards.
"Again call me Johnathan, Logan is my agent name that nobody else should know." I pull a bagel out of the sleeve and pop it in the toaster. Fake mom heads out the door and fake dad comes down the stairs. I don't loathe him quite so much as fake mom, but he's not that much better when it comes to pretending to be a father in a suburb.
"So, Logan, to get closer to the trouble, I've got an interview with the manager of Claire Confections. I think the activity might be related. I'll be back at 2. See ya!" The man pats my head and dashes out the door. I sigh.
"You're supposed to call me - aw what the heck... Not like I'm going to be talking to them in public." I grumble to myself.
I turn on some music and lift some weights; when my bagel pops up thoroughly burnt, I grab some sour cream and slop it onto each half. The apples fake mom picked up yesterday seem to be ripe, so I grab one from the bowl and complete my breakfast with a glass of milk.
I really should unpack my boxes and establish my room... But I can't help from checking my phone, it seems more important to establish my "new" Instagram account and look at all the hot girls in their bikinis. A Supe can dream that's for sure. All the girls I dated, had horrible personalities. They're all so superficial. I want something real, but I can't let them get too close. Not like last time...
Maybe I should go fix my room... I abandon the kitchen to stop my reminiscing and unpack the first three moving boxes I touch.
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The navy walls fit with the decorative posters that are supposed to reflect "me" and my bedspread seems interesting enough. The carpet floor is currently visible and all my clothes are clean and neatly packed the closet and dresser drawers. I know it won't last, but for the most part, the room looks good.
At the bottom of the last box, I find the framed photo of my real family. My younger sister smiles widely at the photographer, despite the gaping hole where her two front teeth were supposed to be. My mother looks like a goddess, her blonde hair falls straight and not a single strand dares to move against gravity, which seems to be a miracle for its length. And my father, he could have been a millionaire for all you know. His black hair is slicked back elegantly and he holds his head up high. His debonaire smile is what hurts my heart the most.
I find myself in the picture. I'm scrawny and awkward, my hair curled in the only way it ever has. My suit drapes from my tiny limbs and yet the arm holding my younger sister appears as strong as iron. I smile at the camera and remain oblivious to how terrible people are. I wouldn't expect a 12-year-old to prepare for that stuff; and still, I'm angry that he could do nothing.
I miss them so much... This is what happens when you're found to be a Supe. Mom would be proud of my strength, to move from city to city, as if my whole life didn't crumble apart. The thing is when you have something others don't, they want to do one of two things: 1) Take advantage of you. 2) Kill you. They just don't know how else to cope. And not all Supes use their powers for bad. Yet, for some reason, many people are scared of us.
I use my powers for good, but others don't tend to know that at first sight, so their instant reaction... is fear. Stupid, unfounded fear. My eyes tear up at the thought of it, but I won't let the memories hurt anymore. I shove the picture between my box spring and mattress then flop on top of the covers not knowing what else to do with myself.
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My car arrives and fake dad comes home early at 1:30, so I treat us to lunch at a local Wendy's. After dropping fake dad back at home, I feel the need to see what the town has to offer. There's a movie theater, a multitude of fast-food restaurants, several fro-yo/ice cream parlors, and finally, I see it: a small water park.
It's closed, but it's a water park, they didn't have too many of those in my last state and when they told me I was moving to Florida I thought, Damn! They have water parks! Stupid, but when I finally get here, putt-putt seems to be a big deal, not water parks. I wonder if there's a putt-putt team at my new high school.
I chuckle at the thought of it. I stop and grab an ice cream from a little shop and sit in a park. The breeze is slightly warm and considering it's late October, it scares me. I normally would need a jacket to be outside, but I'm told that it probably won't drop more than 58°F.
I could get used to this... The cold cream melts chocolate all over my tongue and when the very tip has gone numb the chocolate euphoria that is ice cream is gone too. I hop back into my red 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata (It's one of the only nice things I own.) and start the car, I ease out of the park and head home.
As I'm driving home, I stop to get more gas and a drink. The convenience store is drafty and the white tile floor is soiled. There are several shelves of items and coolers lining 3 of its walls. I head to the counter to pay for a Pepsi and I see a cute girl, maybe my age, being cornered by someone slightly older than her.
I feel uncomfortable watching and I want to help her out, but chances are I would blow my cover and get in trouble. Or she'd insist upon hanging out with me more and I am not in a position to do that. So, I turn my head down and find a newspaper rack.
"You know what, I'll take one of these too." I slap the paper on the counter and the boy rings me up. I pay and leave with my stuff. Sitting in the driver's seat, I notice the cover of the paper says the name I came here to catch: Zandor.
I sit in my room and scan the paper for interesting details, I should have watched the morning news, I'm almost certain there was a report on the crime. Apparently, Zandor successfully cut the traffic cam feed for 15 minutes while he stole... soda? Why soda? I don't get it, but as I continue reading, someone driving by the scene thought they saw an accomplice with him. Which would explain why the cameras were out, Zandor's not that smart.
Also, there was a car that was stolen from a Krogers. It was later found crashed into a tree, the fire covered a quarter of an acre. There were no passengers, but according to firemen, the fire was intentional. So maybe Zandor did that too? I doubt it, also how could the driver leave the scene like that? They were probably injured pretty bad...
I can't stop thinking about the girl from the gas station... Is she okay? Maybe I should have done something... I stare out my window hoping that girl is doing fine. Fake mom turns out the lights, I switch on my alarm clock and try to get some sleep.
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