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“I. Am. Not. A. Hero,” I remind him through clenched teeth. But I take his outstretched hand anyway and let him pull me up. Max eyes me from head to toe, taking in my knotted hair that was once in a ponytail but who knows if the hair tie is still in there. He frowns at my outfit: pajama pants and a sports bra.
“Get dressed.” He grabs a handful of unfolded laundry and throws it at me. “It’s time for me to kick your ass.”
A week ago there was nothing I’d rather do than spar with my brother once I turned sixteen and my full powers developed. But that was a week ago.
“No,” I mumble through pouted lips.
“You may not be a Hero yet but I am, and it is my duty to stop you from doing this to yourself. Now get dressed so I can beat you.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Go beat yourself.”
Max slams me into the wall. Cold concrete sends a sharp pain down my spine as he grips my throat in his right hand. His left hand pins my shoulder to the wall. I gasp for breath as my windpipe closes against my will. The fury in Max’s gaze burns into my eyes, unrelentingly judgmental. My heart beats three times.
With a surge of anger, I bring up my left arm and break his chokehold while shoving my fist under his ribcage hard enough to hear a satisfying crack of rib bones. He dives forward and I lunge out of the way, stopping to smile in satisfaction when his head bashes into the wall. He stands, wiping the blood off his forehead as the tear in his skin heals instantly.
I pull a sweatshirt over my sports bra and step into a pair of training boots. “Let’s go, asshole.”
We take the KAPOW into Central and Max tells me all these ridiculous things that are supposed to be inspirational and make me feel positive about my impending answer from the examiners. But since I’m not a five-year-old who still believes in Santa Claus, it doesn’t make me feel anything other than annoyed.
Max steps out of the KAPOW and I follow him up the stairs that lead to the Specialized Learning center of Aptitude Mastery. SLAM is a huge arena of sorts, bigger than the human’s stadiums and a thousand times more complex. It intimidated me as a child, but now it feels like home.
Max takes the steps two at a time, still running his mouth and talking with his hands. “Like I said, so the last five days were miserable. But when you think positive you—”
“Oh friggin hell, it’s been five days?” My hand slaps my forehead. I ignore whatever kind of crap he’s talking about as I add up the days in my head. I knew the TV Guide on my television kept changing to new days, but I never considered TV watching time as real time. I must have been really out of touch with reality. “Tomorrow is the seventh day. Oh, god. Oh—my god.” I grip the sides of my head. “I can’t do this.”
“Breathe,” Max says, his hands on my shoulders. “The waiting is almost over. You should be happy.”
My mouth hangs open but no words come out. I spent five days in bed. Ugh. I’m not fit to be a Hero. “We might as well practice Retriever training while we’re here,” I mumble.
Speaking of not being a Hero … Max’s BEEPR lights up. He gives me an apologetic look before viewing the screen. “Another one?” He rolls his eyes as he types something on the screen. “Like anyone could breech that kind of security.”
“Duty calls,” I say with an annoyed sigh.
“Sorry Mace, I’m out.” Max heads toward the KAPOW, taking the stairs three at a time. “Shouldn’t take long—just get started without me.”
I don’t watch him leave. When I reach the familiar steel door of SLAM, I place my hand on it and take an instinctual step forward. Only the door doesn’t open like usual and my toes crack as they bash into an unmoving door. I touch the door again. Still nothing.
The MOD to my right lights up as a message scrolls across it. identity: maci might – suspended access until further notice.
“What the what?” I yell to no one, pressing my hand repeatedly to the door, that stupid message popping up each time. I kick the door just because I freaking feel like it.
Of course they would suspend me. Of course.
Turning on my heel, I run down the stairs so I can get far away from here before anyone sees me. The only thing more humiliating than banishment from my favorite place is having someone witness it.
Once I’m around the corner, I revert to walking at a pace slower than a human, staring at the marble floor beneath my feet. The world feels bigger, heavier when moving this slowly. My instincts tell me to hurry and zip off to wherever I need to be, but for the first time in my life I don’t have anywhere to be. All those years of Hero training had me trudging home only to fall asleep, wishing I had some free time. Now that time is all I have, well I’d like to go back. I should be performing Hero duties right now. Instead, I’m just an outcast. A girl on hiatus.
A voice I don’t recognize calls my name. I turn around. “What?” I don’t mean to sound so rude, but then again, maybe I do.
Some guy jogs up to me, wearing tan cargo shorts and a white t-shirt with a backpack over his shoulders. Not exactly Hero attire. His shoulder-length blonde hair hasn’t seen a brush in … probably ever. He waves as he approaches, his smile bursting with super white teeth. This time I recognize him. Probably because I’m not obsessing over Aloki. “Hey, Evan.”
“Hello,” he says, brushing hair behind his ears. “I never expected to see you twice in one week. It’s been a long time since Hero training.”
And boy has it. Maybe it’s the close proximity to SLAM, or maybe I’m just thinking clearer without Aloki around, but I definitely remember him from Hero training now. He was a grade higher than I was and dropped out of the class when I was twelve. I remember him as tall, lanky and—to put it mildly—a total nerd. Coming of age did wonders for him. His shoulders have filled out. Lean muscles pack his arms and chest.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, having no idea what he just said. “I mean, you’re in Africa now, right?”
“Yep. Research.”
