Chapter 1: I AmA Chapter by Andrew M. DavisChapter 1 of my novel Genesis. The first glimpse of the everyday life of Korbin Amazia, what he goes through, how he lives.She leaned against the nearby wall, clutching tightly to her books, holding them close to her chest. She was deep in conversation, lost in thought. She laughed a vibrant, full laugh that drew in my focus even further. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, why she was so captivating, so enthralling, so beguiling, so…so…Sarah. She stood about five and a half feet tall, not the tallest
girl I’ve ever met, by any means, but she had a commanding presence that made
up for her lack of height. She was thin, but muscled. Not a gross amount of
muscle, like a six pack, or massive bulging thighs that made you uncomfortable,
but just the perfect amount. She was a cheerleader, the best of them. Those flips
professional people do, those who train years and years to get the flexibility
to perform, that’s her, she can do them, and with ease. I’d seen it. I’d
watched her. Now, that sounds creepy, but it’s not, I promise. Her light brown hair flowed to her shoulders, a straight mass
of beauty that framed the perfect, chiseled features of her face. Chiseled is
typically a term used for men, but she had it, and not chiseled as in a broad
jaw, and all that weird stuff, but, like, perfect. Her blue eyes stared at the
person she was speaking to, Jules, or someone, but probably Jules. They were in
a deep conversation, still. Sarah’s eyes flitted to me, a quick, subtle look that set my
heart racing. I averted mine, careful to avoid any possible attention I wasn’t
ready for. What if she talked to me? What would I do? Honestly, I would
probably stop and stare at her face, not, like, at her face, but through her
face. Not specifically through either, but, like, through her. I don’t know. Her eyes moved back to Jules. I saw it out of the corner of
my eye and then my eyes were immediately back on her. She knew I was watching.
I could tell. She couldn’t hide it from me, but I couldn’t help it. It’s terrible, I know, but she was so stunning, beyond
stunning. Who wouldn’t stare? She’s so out of my league. My ears tuned in. It was my intent to listen a little to her
voice, to hear the soft sonnets that left her mouth every single time she
spoke. If she spoke to me, I’d faint, let’s just be real. But, despite my
desire to hear her voice, I heard something entirely different. He came up quick, almost catching me off guard, but I braced
for impact immediately as I caught wind of his feet coming towards me, and then
his shoulder pressing against my chest in a hard thud that sent me into the
wall. My head smashed against it, cracking a small tile but leaving no trace of
blood. How could it? He couldn’t hurt me. No one could. Erik was a little above average in height, maybe six feet if
you counted his hair, which he typically kept pretty short unless he got lazy.
He wasn’t one to style it, but, somehow, without any gel or whatever, he
managed to keep the buzzed sides, and short top in some semi-spiked style that
made him look good. Honestly, he probably woke up like that and felt ok with
it. He was muscular, and uncommonly handsome, which I was fine
with admitting even though he was a jerk. He had an ugly heart, how about that?
Erik was the type of person that, even in the off season, would be working out
and running to make sure he stayed in tip-top shape. He was the starting
quarterback for the football team, so, he took it as his obligation to do
whatever he could to stay the best, which, admittedly, he was the best, unless
I joined the team, and then I’d be the best. His eyes were a deeper shade of blue and looked like oceans
pooling around the dark pupil. His eyes clenched in a sort of anger, but were
more just defensive. I looked into Erik’s deep blue eyes fiercely, annoyed that he
had so suddenly jerked me out of my reverie and forced me into the wall. A fist
clenched at my side. Erik looked down at it and then back at my fierce gaze and
laughed, “What? Do you expect to hit me?” Anger washed over me. I wanted to. I really wanted to, but I
couldn’t, and he knew it. “Thought so,” he said as I unclenched my fist. Even if he knew, if he was certain that I would hit him, Erik
wasn’t the type of person to back down. He wanted it. I shook my head. “Now to business,” he began, staring into my eyes. “Eyes.
Off.” He emphasized sharply. I knew what he was talking about. It was stupid. I was pretty sure he and Sarah didn’t have a
thing, and, regardless, even if they did, they weren’t dating, so whatever
sense of stupid protection this was, he was just using it to flesh out some
anger. I could sense it in him. It wasn’t really about her. So I let him do
what he felt he needed to. I was just angry he wouldn’t let me look at her. “Erik,” Sarah scolded sharply, placing a hand on his shoulder
and pulling him back a little, loosening his grip on me. I stayed on the wall. Erik pulled back fully once she spoke. His face flushed red
in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said. “Do not apologize to me,” Sarah responded, redirecting his
focus to me. “I am not the one you shoved needlessly into a wall.” Erik looked to me with a single eye, but kept most of his
attention on Sarah. “I won’t apologize to him.” Sarah looked to me and asked a question without a voice. I shrugged. She pulled her hand off, “Fine, but don’t think this behavior
is ok, Erik. You know better.” Erik’s face flushed more. He had been scolded like a child in
front of over a dozen people. I smiled at him, making certain he would see that
I took humor in his embarrassment. “Stop,” he snarled, pulling his fist back. Sarah gripped his hand and pulled it down. “Erik, enough,” Sarah commanded. He dropped his fist again and looked away so that no one
could see his face. “That goes for you too, Korbin. Stop patronizing him.” Erik pulled his arm out of Sarah’s grip and began to walk
away, quickly turning down an adjacent hallway and tripping into a bathroom. I
could only hope that someone saw. “Why do you do this?” Sarah asked, turning her gaze to me
after watching Erik leave. “Hey! He shoved me, remember!” I shot back. Hey, whaddaya
know? I could talk to her. “And you shoved back.” “I did no-” I stammered out. Sarah held up a hand, “You did, just not by force.” “Such wise words, thanks mom,” I complained. Oh-no, what had
I done. Sarah chuckled, “You are very welcome, son, anything to
help.” She pinched my cheek. “What the…”
I thought. I brought my hand up to my cheek, after she had moved her own
away, and rubbed it softly. “What was that for?” I asked in confusion. “Stop complaining. You are the one who asked to be treated
like a child.” “Um, excuse me. No one ever asks to be treated like a child.”
“Well, you did, so I am not quite certain your logic is sound
here,” she retorted. “You hate me. Is that what this is?” I asked dryly. “I do not hate you, Korbin. I simply wish for you to try a
little harder to not be so arrogant.” “Arrogant,” I said loudly, gesturing for no reason at all. “Yes, Korbin, arrogant.” “How dare you,” I joked modestly. Sarah laughed, “Stop, you are making a scene.” “A scene? I-I” I stuttered. “Oh,
I’m making a scene?” Sarah laughed again, a sweet, melodic laugh, and then turned
around and walked back to Jules, taking back the few textbooks she had
apparently handed to her before she stepped in to stop the fight, thing. “Oh, and you’re leaving just like that?” I said, trying to
push the useless, and humorous argument as far as it could go. “Well, someone has to be the adult here,” she responded
coolly and nodded for Jules to follow her as she walked away. “We’re sixteen!” I called after her, throwing my hands up
into the air. Sarah turned her head and smiled at me brightly. “What just happened,” I said out loud to no one in
particular. “You just had a flirting match with the most popular girl in
school,” the stocky, short-haired freshmen named Josh responded without
prompting, patting me on the back. My face turned red. I could feel it. Eleven other people just
heard him say that. I think I died. “Who asked you?” I finally responded,
looking into his eyes unhappily. I couldn’t hold it. I had to walk away. I headed towards my class. It would be the only place right
now that I could go and feel safe from whatever that was. I could feel my heart
racing. Was this what a heart attack felt like? It couldn’t be. I was still
standing. Oh my goodness. What the what? I contemplated going on some mental tangent about how I could
tear Erik apart, and all that blah blah, but, I was already aware of the power
I possessed, and no one would be in my head to listen, so what would be the
point? Then again, I mean, I could tear him apart. Not to mention how much he
frustrates me. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like that, but
Sarah had never been around before to stop him, which probably made him feel
just as uncomfortable as it made me feel. He, in reality, probably didn’t even
care. He just wanted to make a scene, and he succeeded, but I got the better
half of it. I smiled as I strode into my empty classroom. No one was there, as per usual. I walked down the third row and headed straight for my desk,
which was the fifth one back. There were seven rows of seven, most of which
were filled once classes began. I slid into my seat hard, slamming my hip
against the opposite end where a bar rose up diagonally to connect the writing
portion of the desk to the seat. I felt the bar adjust immediately and a screw
popped out, bounced off my thigh and rolled onto the floor, where I left it. “Oops,” I said as I planted my face on my desk and stared out
the window, quickly losing myself in thought. Eastwood high was a peculiar place. It was full of the
average kid’s, obviously, but, like all high schools, it had its own unique
flair to it, one that I couldn’t quite place exactly, though there are plenty
of quirks I can point out immediately. Take the classrooms for example. Literally every single day
is the same. Class in the morning starts at 7:50, the usual time, of which
everyone is aware. So, you expect that kids would start filing into class a
little early to make sure they weren’t counted absent, or late, but no, not
even a little bit. Every single student, except me, and probably Sarah, because
she’s perfect, gets to class almost the very moment that the bell rings, every
day, and they have it down to a T. Everyone knows when they need to start
toning down on their conversations and head to class, and, as if on que, every
voice in the hallway falls silent and the sound of footsteps echoes throughout
the corridors, and somehow everyone makes it, except for those kids who just
have a habit of being late. Nobody ever felt the pressure of time constraints. Nobody cared.
The teachers don’t crack down on it, so why should the students care about it.
That’s undoubtedly why every student finds it appropriate to come to class,
basically, late. Though, after a multitude of times, probably actually just
three or four, the teachers will crack the whip and yell at us, even though I
have nothing to do with it, and complain that we have no respect, and that
we’re so disrespectful. But they don’t do anything about it. How can they
expect anyone to change if they don’t even care? On top of that, most of the teachers hate discipline, so, to
make matters worse, when kids are late, they do nothing, but also nothing gets
done, and, because of that, nothing happens, ever. It’s a very amusing cyclical
pattern, but it won’t change, so I’m used to it. I sighed and focused my attention on the old oak outside the
window. Its leaves were showing signs of the beginning of fall. I could see it,
but I doubt that anyone else would be able to. The small fibers of the leaves were beginning to wither and
loosen their grip on the tree’s branches. Small parts of the leaves, barely
noticeable, were beginning to lose color, but by a mere shade, barely
noticeable. A small bird chirped within its branches. My eyes darted
around the parts of the tree, searching for the bird. Eventually I found it. It
was high up in the tree, cuddled close to the dark trunk. Its down was nearly
the same color as the tree, which made it difficult to spot, but, unlike the
bark the bird moved. I wanted to be like that bird right now. Not stuck in class
feeling imprisoned, but out in the open air with the freedom to move about as I
pleased, soaring through the skies as no one else could. I wanted to be out
there. But, as much as that were true, it was difficult to ever make
that happen. If I wanted to fly, it had to be at night, and if I wanted to fly
for an extended period of time, then I had to somehow find a way to keep my
parents distracted for as long as I was in the air, and, that would be highly
unlikely given the fact that they would be sleeping, probably, and could wake
up at any time to check on me. I do, however, frequently imagine what people would do if
they saw me soaring through the skies. Obviously, I wouldn’t fly close enough
to the ground that someone could get a clear picture of me, and I would move
fast enough to make certain that I was blurry just in case someone happened to
have a telescope that could take pictures too. But, I mean, I think about it a lot, me bursting through the
skies, clearly human, unnatural. What would people think? Would they be afraid?
Would they be happy? Excited? The only thing keeping me from blasting off into
the skies in broad daylight was my ever present conscious nagging at me,
telling me how unwise it would be for
me to be seen. But, in the end, whatever people thought, it wouldn’t matter. They would all expect something from me. A human being with
the power of a god at his fingertips, they would all ask something of me, wish
something on me, whatever that may be. Ultimately, I would be hunted down,
maybe even found, not that they would be able to contain me, but they could
talk to me. They’d ask stuff of me. Do this, do that, we’ll give you
this, give you that. None of it would matter. I would just be another
mercenary, except, the difference with me would be that I would be unstoppable,
but there would be no offer they could give me that could sufficiently satisfy
what I desired: freedom, purpose. I truly wanted purpose. I possess power, but have no reason
at all to use it. There are no creatures to fight that could stand against me,
no war that would last once I entered the fold. I want wars to end, yes, but I
don’t want to cause carnage, because that is what I would do. Too much would be
asked of me; again, everyone would expect something of me, and I can’t live up
to those standards. “Good morning,” the voice of Mrs. Schultze suddenly said,
popping the bubble of my reverie. I sat up quickly and jumped slightly in my seat. I hadn’t
noticed her come in, let alone hear her come near. “Holy sh-” I began before
she cut me off. “Korbin Amazia! Watch your mouth,” she commanded. “Sorry,” I apologized sincerely. I never swore. That was a
total accident. “I was just surprised, that’s all.” “Well, find another word to express your surprise,” she
suggested, tapping the eraser side of her pencil on my desk. “Yes, ma’am,” I agreed respectfully. Mrs. Schultze was pretty much the only teacher within
Eastwood that was one hundred percent deserving of respect, and she got it. She
laid down the law no matter who it was. She didn’t play favorites, or so it
appeared. She didn’t let anything slip past her either. If a homework assignment was missed, she would give grace,
but only to a point. If it happened consistently, she would lower the points
you could get back by a certain percentage every time until, after three or
four, it wasn’t even worth it to do the assignment. She was equally strict as she was caring. She was young,
beautiful, and full of energy. She didn’t just deserve respect. She commanded
it. Today, as usual, she wore her curly red locks, which were
soft and bouncy like a trampoline. Her green eyes stood out vibrantly against
the spiraling yellow dress she wore. Even without such a brightly colored
dress, her mere presence brightened up the room. Mrs. Schultze had just turned twenty-three the past summer,
but she had already received her master’s in teaching, and gotten married in
the same week just before the start of the previous summer. She had a brilliant
mind. I suddenly felt a wave of tiredness wash over me. It wasn’t
unusual for me to feel tired, especially with nights like last night where I
just spent my time doing practically nothing high up in the sky, but it was
nights like those I slept the best, but not for very long because I was out
late. “Good morning, Mrs. Schultze,” I finally responded with a
sigh. I honestly wasn’t the biggest fan of talking so soon after I
had woken up. I talked to Sarah because, well, Sarah, but beyond that I really
took no pleasure in conversation before lunch time. I just frequently had to,
so I had no choice but to try and be happy about it. She nodded at me as she reached her desk, “How are you doing
today?” she asked, placing the pencil she had in her hand on the thick desk
beside her pencil sharpener. “I’m doing good,” I began. “Doing well,” she immediately corrected. I sighed again. “I’m just tired,” I finally said. “That’s no good. Did you go to sleep late?” “Yeah, I was busy,” I said. “Oh, and, also, one of the screws
on my desk broke,” I noted comically, shifting my butt back and forth in my
chair to show her how it moved. It creaked once, but didn’t have the full
effect I had desired. “That is no good,” she repeated. “And don’t worry about the
chair, I’ll ask one of the janitors to come in later and take a look at it!” She appeared to be done talking. I hoped that she was done.
She began to file through some of the folders she had placed on her desk at the
end of the day yesterday, but her silence was too much to ask for. “How did you
do on your homework? Were you able to get it done alright?” Oh, this wouldn’t be too bad. “I actually had a question
about number seven, the one about the Civil War?” I timed my little charade perfectly. The bell rang and time
was up. I had heard the conversations fall silent and the horde of
footsteps began as hundreds of students made their way from the hallways
towards their empty classrooms where the teachers stood in wait for their prey.
The student’s funneled into the class in ones, twos and sometimes threes. Most of the students were talking to each
other, assorted smiles and other expressions plastered on their faces. I tuned
in to each of their individual conversations, listening intently to the chorus
of quiet voices. Most of their conversations were random, and that description
was more than just because I randomly decided to listen to them. “How’s your dad?” Aaron was asking Peter, “Is
he still in the hospital or did they release him and let him come back home?” “Is my make-up running? I feel like its
running,” self-conscious about the way she looked as always, Maybelle was
complaining about the make-up she had applied herself. “Maybelle,” Shawna laughed giddily in response,
“the only reason your make-up would be running is if you bawled this morning,
and you didn’t, did you?” she asked seriously. James lumbered in near the back of the group
silently, as he always did, and took a seat by the back wall. Laying his head
on the wall and falling asleep instantly. Erik walked in at the very end, far
behind everyone else and right as Mrs. Schultze’s voice abruptly pierced the
wall of noise at exactly the same time the bell dinged, causing everyone to fall
silent almost instantly, give or take the few squeaks that some students
released as they were startled by both noises. Erik walked to his desk and sat
down silently. Mrs. Schultze watched him the entire way, seeming like she was
going to say something then decided against it. He was usually on time, so I
guess that would explain why she just let it go. “Alright kids, it’s time for class to start,”
Mrs. Schultze said loudly. Everyone fell silent instantly. Most of the class period consisted of Mrs.
Schultze explaining the Civil War assignment we had completed, well, the one
that most of us had completed. After that, she explained the group project that
would be due Friday, the project that I would most likely be the only one in my
group to actually work on. I was always put into one of those groups where
everyone else just lazes around and does nothing, while I do all the work. It
was Wednesday, so we only had the rest of today and tomorrow to do the entire
project. It wasn’t necessarily a huge project, but, still, I hoped that I would
actually get into a group that would do something more substantial than
nothing. She began to assign groups. I could only hope. “Peter,” she began. “You, Aaron and Jason will
be the first group.” The trio mumbled and fist bumped each other.
They were good friends. “The last time I had you three together you
worked surprisingly well. I want to see that same energy this time,” she
complimented. “Maybelle, Jessie, Samuel L. and Damon, I expect no less of you
than Peter’s group.” She scanned the list. I was curious to know if
she was picking these groups as she spoke. “Hmm,” she hummed, pausing. “James, Tyler,” she
moved her finger down the list and casted an eye in James’ direction. “JAMES,”
she yelled, forcing the boy awake. James jumped about a foot in the air and then
stared at Mrs. Schultze, stunned. Everyone burst out into harmonious laughter.
A few students even clapped their hands in pure ecstasy. “James,” Mrs. Schultz continued, smiling at
him. “You will be with Tyler, Karen, and Samuel O.” She barreled onwards and my
heart stopped. “Sarah, Erik and Korbin, you three will be together as well.” I stopped paying attention to her immediately
after she said my name. I could swear if my eyes gigged out and I fell out of
my chair and had a heart attack I wouldn’t even mind. Although that’s not true,
that would probably have been preferred to being in a group with Erik. In that
moment I hated life. “Ugh,”
I thought. “WHY!?” I looked over to Erik and immediately
recognized a similar look on his face. It was an almost exact reaction, but
that didn’t make much sense. Did he think I hated him too? Maybe it was because
of Sarah, but no, that would be far too awkward. I had seen them together.
Their interactions were far too friendly to be more than friends. He was
totally friend zoned, no doubt about it. But, in the off chance that I was
wrong, and he liked her too, I would be much less happy than I already was to
be in a group with him. I might actually punch him if that were the case. But, according to his heart rate, it wasn’t
because he liked Sarah, so I can cross punching him off of my list of things to
do today. It wasn’t because of her, thank God. He actually thought I hated him,
weird. Mrs. Schultze finished matchmaking and directed
us all to get into our groups and talk about what our roles would be in the
project, then she stopped talking, went to her desk, sat down, and immediately
immersed herself in some other form of work. Goodbye cruel world. I’ll see you when I’ve
escaped Dante’s inferno. The other groups could be heard both quietly
and loudly talking about their projects. They were all fine with their groups.
Lucky kids got to be with people they like talking to. I got Sarah, which was
awesome, after this morning I would be fine talking to her for the rest of
eternity, but I got Erik too. Erik, Sarah and I sat in silence, complete and
utter silence, and for minutes. For the entirety of those minutes, Sarah
glanced between Erik and I, her face shifting and contorting into all forms of
discontentment until she finally spoke up. “Ugh!” She exclaimed loudly, drawing the
attention of other groups for a moment. She waited until they looked away
before saying anything else. Her voice quieted, “Guys! Are you serious? Enough
with you two!” She always had so much force in her words. Even
when she quieted down it was like if I didn’t listen to her that I would be
chased by a rabid super bull, and I would be wearing red pajamas. What a sight
to behold. “The two of you need to get over yourselves, at
least for the remainder of this project. When we are done, and I mean after
this class period on Friday, then you can go back to whatever this stupid feud
is and whatever dumb reason you hate each other for.” It looked as if she was
about to bare her teeth and growl, but she wasn’t really angry at all, she was
just trying to settle the animosity between Erik and I. She was doing a good
job. “Maybe you will both even get along for once in your lives,” she
continued. “And stop looking at each other like you are going to stick out your
tongues. Children do that. You have more self-control.” “Now,” Sarah said as Erik and I looked away
from her cold gaze. “What is important right now is this assignment, well,” she
chuckled softly, and adorably, “there are other things that are important too,
but, I mean, right now, in this moment. We need to focus on this project. I
have no desire to fail it, or even get remotely close to that.” She pumped her
fist in the air. I face-palmed immediately. “We will conquer this project like the French
to the Bastille!!” I will never understand how she wasn’t
embarrassed to do that in public. I mean, her face didn’t even minutely turn a
shade, and she just kept on rolling with it. There were no noticeable signs
that announcing that she was going to conquer
a project even fazed her. Sarah had so much confidence. I was the one
with the super powers, how did she get the confidence? Maybe she knew something
I didn’t, or she just didn’t care. I cared. How could I not care? She was right, though. Erik and I needed to set
aside our petty squabbles and do something productive with our lives, otherwise
nothing would get done. “So,” I said, drawing it out as long as I
could, purposely making it awkward. “What’s the plan, stan?” “We could start with George Washington!” Erik
suggested immediately. “I’m sorry, what?” was all I was able to say. “George Washington,” he repeated. “Stop.” “What?” he asked, confused. “Erik,” Sarah finally said, doing more than I
could manage. “George Washington was not a part of the Civil War,” Sarah
corrected him, laughing vibrantly. “Uh-uh,” he stammered. “Duh,” he said, “I know.
I’m just testing you.” He smiled, letting his embarrassment fade away. I even let myself laugh a little, not even at
his embarrassment, just in amusement. It was different. I wasn’t thinking about
what he might think of me, and he wasn’t thinking of what I thought of him. We
just sat and talked about the project and other random stuff throughout the
rest of the class period. No snarky comments towards each other, or hateful
glares, just normal conversation, and it felt good. Sarah really worked her
magic on us. The day finished quickly and I found myself
outside on the bleachers staring up into the sun. It didn’t hurt me, I kind of
liked being able to see it in all of its glory. Clouds would frequently roll on
through, covering up the luminescence of the sun in their wisps. It was cool to
see how they brightened as the beams of light relentlessly tried to break
through. I soaked in the daylight, loving
every minute of it. “Your eyes are going to fall out of
your face any moment now,” a girls voice suddenly broke through my daydreaming.
I didn’t jump, not this time. I
wasn’t even startled. Maybe if I was fully human I would have been, but I
wasn’t so focused on the sun that something like that would freak me out. I had
learned my lesson with my daydreaming this morning. Though, I honestly hadn’t
heard her coming. Too distracted by my surroundings I guess. “Naw, I’ll be fine,” I responded
casually, looking up into the blue eyes of Sarah. Her face was perfectly framed
by beams of light, and had just the perfect amount of shadows flowing around
her. She was out so late after school
because of Cheerleading. Practice had been going on for a while now, but they
were apparently taking a break, which she, for some reason, used to come talk
to me. Yay! I was actually there to watch the football
practice, but she was a plus too. She laughed symphonically. “Sounds like you.” “Huh,” I
thought. “Sounds like me? What does that mean?” I asked. She smiled with sincerity, “It means that I
know what you are like. You like to think, to daydream. I have seen you. I
think it is cute.” “Well, good, I’m overwhelmingly glad you think
I’m cute,” I teased, immediately blushing at her flattery. “Did I say that you are cute?” she asked,
thoughtful. “I did say your daydreaming was cute.” “Oh…” She punched me in the arm, a good windup. “I am
kidding. Of course you are cute,” she said, staring at the field as if she had
said nothing out of the ordinary. I blushed even more. I could feel the redness
in my cheeks. “Well,” she said, standing up. “I have to head
off,” she didn’t even give me time to react to her previous comment. “Practice
and all, you know!” I did. I finally started to head home around six,
after watching the constant and vigorous exercise routines of both the football
team and the cheerleading squad. I almost felt sore myself just watching what
they had to do, but, then again, I had never really felt sore, so I don’t know
what sore feels like. I chuckled under my breath. What if I joined
the team? They would freak. The entire team thinks I’m a lanky nerd. I’m not
lanky, but I am smart. But they also underestimate me constantly. It would be a
good run to show them that I’m not as dull as I may seem. We
all have our skills. Sarah is smart and popular. Erik is athletic, along with
other traits I can’t quite place yet. And I am smart and powerful, but would my
only absolution for joining the team be to get the girl and gain some
popularity? That couldn’t be my only incentive. No, I think I could be a better
person for it. I’d gain some authority. I could stand up to people, and they
would respond with respect. I would be popular, and have friends, and people to
talk to. I guess that decided it then. I’ll go talk to the football coach in
the morning and tell him I want to join football. He’s obviously going to
laugh, but he’ll undoubtedly let me try out for the laughs that he would get
from watching me get tackled and humiliated a few times, which he wouldn’t
actually get to see. Oh well, my decision was made. I
had started to walk home about an hour after the football team had finished
with practice. There was no one else around. I could feel it, but I still chose
to walk, and slowly too. I took it at an easy pace. At the rate I was going it
would take me at least another hour to get home, which wouldn’t leave much time
to work on the history project, or any of my other homework for that matter.
I’d get my other stuff done first, because it would be simple, and then write
up an outline for the project so that, by tomorrow during class, I could show
Erik and Sarah a general idea of what we could do. Both of them could be doing
the exact same thing as I would be doing soon myself. By tomorrow we could have
three different ideas for the same project. It wouldn’t be a bad thing. We
could combine our ideas and form something even better out of them, and none of
us would be opposed to that, hopefully. It wasn’t the project that was dominating my
mind at the moment, though, Erik is. I was still confused about why Erik may be
thinking that I hate him. Obviously I’m not certain that’s what he was
thinking, and I’m not a fan of jumping to conclusions, but his emotions were
running rampant, just like mine were, and at the same time. It was almost
certain that’s what he was feeling. He had glanced in my direction a few times
during practice. They all knew I was there, and it wasn’t the first time I had
sat in on practice. He didn’t show any emotion on his face when he saw me,
except for sweat and a lot of strain, but he typically tended to ignore me when
I watched the team, so, for him, looking at me was unusual, especially the
multiple times he did it in the middle of rigorous routines. I got home right as the sun began to lay at
rest on the horizon. The sunset was shining with a beautiful pink and orange
glow and was riddled with a series of overlapping shadows colored and speckled
in different shades of black and grey. I opened the thick, white front door of
my house and was greeted by an empty hallway. Sliding off my shoes, I headed
upstairs to drop my backpack off in my room before going right back down to
raid the fridge. I was literally starving. “Korbin,” my mother called out from somewhere
in the house, probably the living room. I could hear the television going,
probably on the channel of my mother’s favorite TV show. “There’s food for you
in a container on the bottom shelf already prepared! Do you want me to heat it
up for you?” She asked. I heard her adjust and begin to stand up to head to the
kitchen. “Thanks, Mom. No, I got it,” I responded,
hearing her sit back down softly on the couch. “Ok, hunny!” I walked into the living room, after
I had nuked my food in the microwave, to see my mother lying across the width
of the loveseat with her knees curled a little to make room for her whole body
on the couch. “Where’s dad?” I asked as I adjusted myself for
consumption of my food. I asked the question right as I shoved a whole bunch of
food into my face, but she was a mother. She understood. “He was downstairs for most of the day, but he
got called into work to pick up half of someone’s shift. He’ll be home later,
like one.” “In the morning?” “Yes, why?” “Gross. That’s a disgusting time.” “He’ll probably wake me up,” she responded. “Mom, ew, no.” “That’s not what I meant, Korbin. I meant that
he’ll be loud.” “Oh, that’s…much less ew,” I paused, and then
sighed dramatically. “What?” “Mrs. Schultze put me, Erik and Sarah in a
group today,” I explained, sprawling myself out on the bigger couch and
ignoring my food. My mother was distracted by the television and
forgot to respond for a short time. I waited patiently. “Oh,” she said, snapping back to our
conversation. “Isn’t Erik the one who hates you?” she asked. “I never said he hates me,” I responded. “You have implied it on multiple occasions.” “Ugh, stop.” “Am I wrong?” “…No.” I scooped another spoonful of food in my mouth.
She chuckled at a funny part in her show. “Has
he said that to you specifically?” she asked. “That he hates me?” “Yes.” “Mama, he’s a little more subtle than that,” I
said. “Well, not everyone is as smart as you,” she
bragged. “True,” I said, accepting the compliment
humbly, not. “Anyway, I’ve never been sure that he hates me. It’s just the way
he acts around me.” “Always the optimist Korbin,” my mother
remarked sarcastically. “Sarah is this girl you’ve had a crush on since you
were born, right?” “MOM!” I blushed, turning to face the back of
the couch so she couldn’t see me. “Again, am I wrong?” she repeated. “…No.” A familiar exchange. “Well, great, invite them over tomorrow to work
on the project and I’ll make you guys some goodies, and dinner.” “Don’t refer to anything as goodies around them,
mom. That sounds legitimately terrifying.” “Calm down, just invite them over.” “Why
is the whole world against me,” I thought dramatically. Well, just great, my mother wants me to invite
my crush and arch nemesis over to sup. “Fine,” I said humorously. “I’ll do just
that.” Of course I would have to now. She was
expecting it. Ugh. I stood up from the couch, having finished all
of my food, and headed towards the stairs. Without even looking, I threw my
bowl, and spoon, in a high arc. They landed in the sink, almost twenty feet
away, perfectly. I vaulted the railing of the staircase and
bounded up the stairs three at a time reaching the top in seconds. I then took
a left, turning directly into my room and crashing face first onto my bed in
exhaustion. “AH,” I yelled into my thick blanket. I quieted down and laid there for a while, busy
thinking about what I was going to tell Sarah and Erik tomorrow to get them to
accept the invitation to come over. Really, there was no way they could refuse.
We needed to work on the project, and I was going to offer a place to work away
from trouble, so, it was the best option. I would get so much attention for having two of
the most popular people at my house. It was amusing, terrible, and frightening
at the same time. I spent so much time trying to avoid attention, and now I was
going to get a lot of it. Yay. It only took me an hour to get the majority of
my homework done. I sat at the end of my bed with my head resting on top of my
knees, which I clutched close to my chest, thinking about how I was going to
start the outline to this project. Were my mother to walk upstairs, she would
probably wonder what was wrong, come sit by me, and take an hour to leave
because she would think I was lying to her and just didn’t want to talk about
it. There was a constant nagging in my stomach, a
desire to talk to Sarah. With any luck she would be over tomorrow, but Erik
would be too, so that sucked. Hopefully Sarah would be able to control him in
my house the same way she did in school. At any rate, she made us promise to
get along, that promise should still hold true tomorrow. After a while I decided that I just didn’t have
the drive to work on the project tonight. It was already almost nine, and I
hadn’t even started it. I didn’t need to; I just wanted it done, but I guess I
could put it off for a little while. Tired and out of it, I laid my head down on the
soft, cushioned warmth of my pillow. It was the most sleep I would get in a
very long time. I tended to get to sleep at one or two in the morning, just
because I like to be in the skies, but I also had to wake up at six in the morning.
The lack of sleep didn’t affect me as it did other people. Four hours was
closer to six or seven for me, but I hadn’t been sleeping much, so the amount
of sleep I would be getting tonight would be amazing. Ever since I learned to fly, whenever I could
get away, I would practice increasing my power, to become stronger. It’s highly
possible that no one on Earth would ever see me use them; it’s not like this
world had any supernatural entity conspiring against it. There was no power
struggle between nations where my power would be necessary to save lives. Yes, there
were wars, but I hold no part in them, and, at the current rate, I probably
never will. There is conflict, but its touch doesn’t sway me. It never has. The
way I face bullying in school is proof of that. I rolled over in my bed to face
the window, releasing a long sigh.
“Life is rough,” I said to myself quietly, but
speaking as if someone else was in the room with me. “Honestly, what’s the use
of having all of this power if I can’t use it?” With that I dozed off, quietly
falling into the thrall of slumber and submitting myself to the dreams that the
night would bring. © 2016 Andrew M. DavisAuthor's Note
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Added on October 23, 2015 Last Updated on July 10, 2016 Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Magic, Power, Superheroes, Dark, Story, Teen, Young Adult, College AuthorAndrew M. DavisRoseville, MNAboutMy name is Andrew Davis. I am an avid writer who spends most of his time writing in the realm of Sci-fi/Fantasy. I have written two novels with the overarching title of Genesis. The first one is self-.. more..Writing
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