Maybe death was the first step to becoming a superhero, but Armina didn't remember her parents well enough to use them as a motive. Instead, her fuel for fighting came from her spite. Spite for being born a freak, spite for being the product of a prophecy, and spite for being restricted from using her powers. If she was going to be a colossal weirdo, she might as well live it up.
So, in the midst of her rebellious phase, Armina strapped on some leather gloves under the too-long sleeves of a seaweed-green bomber jacket. She laced up her five-inch heeled boots and applied matching jet black eyeliner. The specks of milk chocolate brown in her eyes popped. To finish off her new appearance, Armina lobbed off her long, silky hair into a shaggy brown-and-blue bob.
"What the hell is this about?" Louisa gasped when she saw the trail of dyed hair and clothes leading into the bathroom. She stepped back at the sight of Armina leaning over the sink, a palette of eyeshadow in one hand and an applicator in the other.
"I think it's time to change things up," cheered Armina. "It's not a crime to cut my hair. Is it?"
Louisa, disapproving in her reflection, crossed her arms. With pointed ruby-red nails, she pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't like this new attitude."
Turning around, Armina retaliated. "It was always there, I just discovered I like making it a little more obvious. Can't you cut the girl who's supposed to end the world a little bit of slack?"
Louisa clamped her hand down hard on Armina's shoulder. Her nails bit into skin like teeth. Armina held her stance.
"You shut your mouth. You were brought to this school- to my home to avoid your fate. Now look at you." Louisa motioned with her other hand. She waved her wrinkled fingers from Armina's head to her toes. "You're an ungrateful little whore."
Knowing Louisa Evans wanted a reaction, Armina choked back her rage. Tensions had been blossoming for a few months now, but deep inside her heart, Armina didn't want to risk hurting her adopted mother. Louisa was prepared for a fight. Armina wasn't ready to give her one.
"I'll fix my hair and buy some new clothes on the next field trip. I just... thought it would be nice to be someone other than me for a while."
Louisa unclenched her hand and sighed. The smile returned to her face as if it had been hiding just beneath the surface. "You should never take yourself for granted. You may not be my daughter by blood, but you are still my responsibility. Understand that what I do is out of love."
Taking a last look in the mirror at what might have been, the teen questioned, "Why'd you come in here? It couldn't have been just to say I can't pull off a miniskirt. Literally and figuratively."
"Elliot's leaving. I know you two were friends before the whole Wendy thing, so you couldn't pass up the chance to say goodbye."
"But-"
Louisa left the conversation with, "No buts."
The mansion's entrance was bustling with kids. Some were teens and others were elementary students. The youngest was six, but she hung out by the staircase where she couldn't be trampled. At the base of the grand staircase stood two preppy girls having a conversation about who pulled off their designer jeans best. To their right were a few boys roughhousing and chanting for their class. A little ways down the hall, more kids were filing in, but they all stopped when Armina showed her face.
Although disorganized at first glance, the students had somewhat formed a line to hug Elliot goodbye and wish him luck in the world. He hugged another friend and made small talk about visiting him in Iowa if he ever passed by.
Armina doubted anyone would want to pass through Iowa.
"Uh, could you excuse me for a minute?" asked Elliot, pushing aside a girl with a full head of curly red locks. He made his way toward the stairs, intense brown eyes locked with Armina's.
As Elliot with his perfect dark skin and short black hair took a few steps up, Armina felt her heart leap into her throat. They hadn't spoken in months, and she feared he might escalate the situation with the eyes of every student on them. He could officially end their friendship with a snide comment or wish she would never be so fortunate as to live her own life.
"It's been a minute, Army."
"Tell me about it, Grand Theft Auto."
After arriving at the school for gifted kids, Elliot and Armina had become quick friends. He shared his deepest secret - the theft of his step mother's BMW - and earned the nicknames GTA, NASCAR, Lightning McQueen among others. It was amusing for the first month, but he quickly grew tired of it.
Elliot offered a hug with open arms, but settled for a fist bump when Armina stuck out her hand.
"Short sleeves today. You almost forgot that a little touch can kill you," warned Armina, but Elliot didn't care. He wanted to forgive and forget after all the drama. He desired to hold Armina in his arms forever until she said, "I'll see you on the flip side."
"Yeah. You have my number. Call. I mean it." Jabbing Armina in the side, Elliot smirked and his canines poked out. He really would miss seeing the drama queen walk down those grand stairs every morning. Even though they'd been through tribulations that tore them apart, they always found their way back to each other. Magnets- Louisa had called them. Elliot hoped she was right.
As he strode through the front door, Armina had to turn to hide the lone tear threatening to fall down her face. It would destroy her facade of strength. She had a reputation to uphold being among kids much stronger than Mundanes. Dabbing away at the tear, Armina found herself wanting to run out the door and tell Elliot not to leave. That they could repair their relationship. That they could restart.
And nothing was holding her back.
She ripped the boots off her feet and sprinted out the door. Louisa called after her. A few kids cheered while others shouted about this being another cry for attention. But nothing stopped her. She ran down the stone path and through the gates, the spring air blowing her shaggy hair about and the sun beating down on her pale face.
There he was. Elliot was packing his last suitcase into the trunk of a taxi. Slamming the trunk closed, he called up to the driver, "Let's head out."
"Wait!" Armina almost groaned at the cheesy scene herself. She grasped how ridiculous she looked in the minute it took Elliot to notice her. Bare feet. Choppy hair. Bad clothes. It was a teenage rom-com with a punk-rock soundtrack on steroids.
"I didn't think you were one for long, cheesy goodbyes."
Great. Even the romantic thought it was mushy.
A wide grin grew across Armina's face. Her eyes rolled, then the voice in her head said, Screw it all. She pulled Elliot in by the waste and, holding back all of her power under a lock and key in the depths of her mind, planted her soft red lips on Elliot's.
They stood, holding their breath.
Cars passed. Joggers ran by. Trees blew in the wind. Then the taxi driver honked the horn and yelled in a New Jersey accent, "C'mon! I don't have all day!"
Pulling away, Armina and Elliot laughed.
"I didn't hurt you?"
Feeling the phantom touch of her lips, Elliot found himself lost in the moment. "No... no, you didn't."
"You're speechless? Damn, I think that's a good place to leave things. I'll see you soon, Need For Speed."
Then he took off.
Armina was left standing on the curb with bare feet. She rocked back and forth, watching the taxi fumes fade into the sky.
Blowing out a hot breath, she noticed a van parked across the street. The man in the passenger side stared at her with squinted eyes, and for a moment she could've sworn he was familiar. Where had she seen him...?
As she went to cross the street and investigate, someone yanked her back into the fenced-in yard. It was a strong hand with meaty fingers that squeezed her shoulder just a bit too rough.
Armina turned to face a middle-aged man with greasy, slicked back brown hair and a pair of granite-coloured glasses hanging in front of emerald-green eyes. His eyebrows furrowed. A cigar hung loosely from his mustached lips, barely warm as if he'd been ready to light it but never got the chance.
"Armina," he growled. "You shouldn't be out here."
That's all Andrew Evans had to say to get the girl scrambling back into the house.
Andrew Evans' office was organized chaos. On his oak desk were three stacks of files - one for each category of student. As annual performance results were coming in, Andrew found himself knee-deep in reassessment of his nearly one hundred students. Armina noticed this year the blue folders dominated the stacks. They represented the students with weaker or less harmful abilities. Then were the yellow folders for the kids with strong presenting powers that could develop over their stay at the secret school. Elliot had fallen in that category his second year, having begun as a blue. Lastly were Armina's few but strong reds. There were less than twenty, but being special was a curse more than a gift. Armina couldn't remember being anything but a red.
Beyond the desk and a disappointed Andrew was a bookshelf with a rainbow of novels. Upon first glance it looked like any collection, but if you listened closely, the books whispered. Armina had asked about them before, but the only answer she ever got was, "You wouldn't understand."
Today, there was a chill in the room, even though there were no windows or a fan. Andrew liked it concealed, prison-like to intimidate the delinquents standing before him.
Armina, having been across his desk for one too many reasons, was immune to his tactics. He couldn't scare her any more than he already did, but that spark of fear was enough to ensure her obedience.
"You could've killed the boy," Andrew chided.
"I can control my power now! I don't even need these stupid gloves." Armina tossed the driving gloves on her adopted father's desk. Her hands glistened with sweat.
"Those aren't for your good, Armina. They're for the safety of my other students whose well-being you constantly take for granted." Andrew's age showed up in the wrinkles spanning across his forehead. Armina had that effect on people, but she couldn't help but think something else was putting strain on her guardian. "You cannot tell me you're stupid enough to try touching someone again."
Armina mumbled, "I'm not your walking hazard."
"Armina Evelyn Stanton! I've had enough of the teenage rebellion, and so has your mother!"
"Louisa? The hell do I care what either of you think? You're not my real parents. You're my captors!" She regretted the words as they left her mouth. They provided her sanctuary among kids like herself, but she felt enough had been enough. Andrew trusted the fire-breathing kid to lose the protective gear, so why couldn't she?
"Your father ensured that you would be brought to this school! He entrusted your life to us!"
Armina screamed, "He gave me to Peter Lessinger! Not you!"
In an unnervingly calm voice, Andrew said, "Get out."
"But-"
"Get out of my office and don't ever talk to me again, you waste of time."
Armina stormed out, slamming the door in her wake. Outside, she sank to the floor. She tucked her head in her arms and let the tears fall. In one day, she'd had the greatest and worst moments of her life. She wished Peter had taken her in and brought her on his journeys across the world, writing articles about secret cities. But she was a lifetime student at a school for super freaks and treated like the queen of unnatural.
A room over, Andrew answered a call about a new student, and his worst fears became true. The prophecy surrounding Armina was coming to fruition.