Felix stumbled out of bed, his head pounding bloody murder. He had learned a valuable lesson the previous night; coffee could only take you so far in a quest to type up an entire essay in only a night. In the future, it would be something he needed to avoid.
He pulled up a newscast on his phone as he took care of his morning "duties." It had been growing more and more common to see costumed men and women on the thumbnails, but Felix had hardly been expecting a big photo of Derrick Thompson, the most well-known Super in the States, to be there. Felix's interest was piqued, and for good reason.
Derrick Thompson, his white shirt in sharp contrast with his chocolate skin, looked the image of a businessperson. Or, standing in front of an array of flags, maybe he looked more like a politician. Either way, his words were carefully chosen.
"My fellow countrymen, I'm here today to implore anyone with supernatural abilities to go to your nearest governmental office or DMV to register with the government. These talents are dangerous; I myself nearly brought down my apartment building when I first learned of what I could do. We do not want to see anyone hurt themselves, or others, by accident. I'd like to help you, truly," he said, offering an outstretched hand to the camera.
Felix felt ill. There was no way that Derrick Thompson was saying all that out of the good of his heart. The government had been quiet for months, clearly deliberating how best to profit from their citizens becoming living, breathing weapons. And even if that wasn't the case, Felix lived by a code: to get on as few lists as possible. He, for one, would not be doing anything like what Derrick suggested.
He called Harper as soon as Derrick was done talking. She picked up on only the third ring.
"Did you just wake up?" she asked.
"Yeah," he grumbled, trying to fix his bedhead in the mirror.
"Didn't I tell you not to wait until the last minute to write your paper?" Harper asked, her knowing tone causing Felix to reflexively roll his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. You were right. Did you see the news?" he asked, satisfied with what he saw in the mirror. He no longer resembled a human scarecrow, but a respectable – if tired – member of society.
"You know I don't watch that garbage. You're like the only person I know that seems to watch it religiously."
Felix groused. "It pays to know what's going on around you. Like today, when Derrick Thompson told all the Supers to turn themselves in."
Harper breathed sharply. "You're kidding."
"I'm not."
She cursed. "We're definitely not doing that, right?"
Felix laughed heartily. "As if that was ever an option. We'll just need to be extra careful going forward. Unless you want to stop doing superhero stuff?"
Now it was Harper's turn to chuckle. "Of course I don't." She paused, considering something. "Speaking about that, maybe it's time for us to get our own superhero outfits. There's already dozens of people out there doing it!"
Whether that was sarcasm or not, Felix couldn't really tell. He decided to take it seriously. "Isn't it a lot smarter to just lay low and stick with dark clothing and hoodies? Safety in anonymity?"
Turns out, Harper was serious. "There's also safety in being recognizable. What if we need to evacuate a building, or something where we need to convince people to do something? There's a reason superheroes had costumes in all the comic books."
"Since when were we in the business of rescuing people from a crumbling building? The most outrageous thing we did was at Gino's. That doesn't require fancy capes or anything."
"We can do so much more, Felix. We just have to figure out how. In the meantime, we need to start preparing for the future."
She sounded adamant. And when Harper was adamant about something, nothing short of a divine miracle or a force of nature could convince her otherwise. "Where would we even go about getting costumes?"
"I was kind of hoping that you had an idea?" she replied innocently. Felix could practically imagine her making her classic puppy-dog eyes.
"No, I really don't," he started, but then he got to thinking. "Well, maybe there is one person…"
If anyone knew how to go about getting a superhero suit, it was Kyle. Felix asked Harper to wait a bit and called Kyle, hoping that he wouldn't be at the hospital. Sure enough, he wasn't.
"Felix! It's been quite a while!" Kyle exclaimed. He hadn't changed a bit, something Felix found strangely comforting despite the man's decidedly uncomfortably excited and nosey nature.
"It has. Listen, I was hoping to get a pair of superhero costumes. Would you happen to know where I could go to get something that looked fairly professional?" he asked. Harper still hadn't sold him on the whole idea, but if he was going to be going out and fighting crime while in spandex, he better look good while doing it.
"It's funny that you mention that, Felix! I have just the person in mind. Would you and your friend be able to meet me at my place in the afternoon? I can have my guy there," Kyle offered.
"Kyle, I can barely trust you. Can we trust this new person?" Felix asked, very suspicious of anything surrounding Kyle.
"I trust them with my life, Felix. And don't forget, I still owe you for my life in the first place. I promise that no one will ever breathe a word of this," Kyle said, his excitement turning to seriousness. Felix thought in silence for just a few moments, pacing his small dorm room.
He stopped moving about, having come to a decision. There wasn't really a choice in the first place; only Kyle knew how to go about any of this, and if Felix went back to Harper empty-handed, he'd have to face her wrath. Everyone knew how the old saying went: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"I trust you, Kyle. We'll be there."