The Accidental Superheroes

Jack

I debated what to do. Either, I went to find to Angie, and risk getting grounded by my mom for leaving the house in control of my computer game obssesed younger brother, Patrick, or stayed here and waited while cookies baked. It should be an obvious choice. Other than the fact that if I did leave, the house would probably catch on fire, and Patrick would be totally oblivious. Until it started burning his computer, of course. Then, I had a brain wave: all I have to do is take the cookies out of the oven, then that way they won't burn. I mean, it's not like they'll cook either, but it's a hell of a lot better then the house burning down. There, problem solved.

I went over to the oven and shut off the temperature. Then I raced upstairs and got into a pair of jeans and a checkered shirt, then checked my hair in the mirror. Hey, you never know who you might run into. Then I sped across the hall into Patrick's room.

"Pat." I said.

No response.

"Pat." I said again.

Still, no response. I decided to try one more time.

"PAT!"

God, is my brother some sort of deaf idiot? I walked into his room, stepping gingerly over the empty chip packets and soft drink cans. Yeah, my brother eats like he's a pig. It's amazing that he isn't one of those obese kids that you see on TV, you know who have like diabetes and shit? High metabolism I guess. I walk over to his computer desk and wave my hand in front of his screen. Now that got his attention.

"What prick?" he asks me. I tut.

"Language, young one."

"Prick isn't a sweard word, but thanks for the concern Master Yoda." he says sarcastically.

"Well, isn't someone PMSing today?"

"Tell me what you want, and then leave."

"I'm going out."

"With who?"

"No one, just me."

"Ha. Have you finally realised that you're so in love with yourself, that there's  no point in dating anyone else?"

"Witty. Anyways, you need to watch the house while I'm gone."

"Whatever."

He turns back to his computer screen, and I hear the shouts of men and gunfire coming from the machine. I'm tempted to roll my eyes. I mean every guy enjoys a good round of COD, or Assasin's Creed, but sitting in your room all day, with the curtains shut and glued to your computer? It makes you seem like you're a vampire with a gaming addiction. I walk out of his room and head for the door. Now that I'm not being distracted by my little brother, or how good my hair looks, I'm worried about Angie. What happened to her? Where is she? Is she hurt? Has she been kidnapped? Or raped? Or murdered? Or all three? I don't really know why I care so much, I mean normally I use girls like tissues, but Angie... she's different. She's funny, and smart, and beautiful, and caring, and mature, yet immature at the same time. She's every guy's dream girl. I know that I say all this stuff about her being with me because we're photogenic, but really it's kinda more than that. I mean, I'm definitely NOT in love with her. Yet. But I do think that there is some kind of connection between us. Whatever. Too much thinking for now. What I have to focus on is finding Angie, then I can work out what my feelings for her are.

WIth all this in mind, I hurry towards my front door and grab my skateboard on the way out. As soon as I'm off the porch, I'm on the board. I know that Angie lives in some rich area, called like Chesnut Road? Yeah, I think that's the one. I remember that she lives near that nerd, Ben. I know exactly where his house is, having teepeed it every Halloween since freshman year. It doesn't matter really, I mean his family is so rich that they can afford some proffesional guy to come and take down all the toilet paper. Yeah, someone actually made a business out of it. Sad, right? Anyway, back to business.

I skate along my street, passing the small, boxy houses and the leaf lined houses. Yeah, so I'm not super rich. My dad died in a fire when I was about ten years old, when mom was pregnant with Erin. She never went to college, so she didn't have any qualifications to work when my dad died, but she had always been good at sewing and designing, so she decided to start her own business making pillows, and table cloths, and blankets, and napkins, and curtains, and all sorts of other fabric homeware stuff. She's actually doing really well at it, but that means that she isn't really home that much.

I'm wondering how long it'll take me to get to Chesnut road, when I see a sign with a turn pointing to the right. Cool. As I'm skating I pass Gader Street, where Ben lives, and an idea occurs to me. After what happened yesterday, maybe Angie will have went to see Ben. I know that Angie's always had a bit of a thing for superheroes, and I'm willing to bet that she went over there to talk to him, thinking that his illusion or trick or whatever it was, was some kind of act of superhuman abilities. I turn and double back to Ben's street, and looked for number twenty one. I was passing all sorts of fancy ass homes and stuff, in fact I'm pretty damn sure I saw one of these in one of my mom's home design magazines.

I stop at Ben's house and rush to the front door. I knock on it urgently. There is a bell, but I feel that knocking has a more urgent affect. The door is answered in a second by Mrs Redmond, Ben's mom. She smiles at me, but somehow, it doesn't quite meet her eyes.

"Mrs Redmond?" I ask her.

"That's me. Who might you be?"

"I'm Jack, Ben's, uh, well I guess you could say friend." I see her raise her eyebrow. Clearly I've been mentioned in the household before.

"Right. What might you want?" her tone is a little colder now, but you can tell she's still trying to be a polite mom.

"I was wondering if you had seen Angie Walters?" her eyes widen.

"So it was her time, too." she whispers.

"Pardon?" She looks at me, her face an indescriable mix of emotions.

"If you have the time, which you might not, go home and pack a bag. If you don't, then leave."

"What?" I ask, as I feel panic rising up inside me. If I have time? Leave? What on earth is she talking about? No one told me that Ben's mom is crazy.

"Look, M'am, maybe I could speak to Ben?"

"I'm not crazy. And Ben isn't here." she states.

"Well where is he?"

"Hopefully the right place." Then she shuts the door, right in my face. What? Well, clearly she isn't going to be much of a help. I clench my jaw and hop back on my skateboard. I jump down the small steps in front of their door and bolt down to the road. I make a quick turn and begin pushing my foot against the pavement, trying hard to get more speed.

I realise that I haven't been focusing properly when I hear the honk of a car coming my way. I look up, way too late. The car is inches from me. I brace myself, and I feel the car crash against me. I prepare myself to go flying, but I don't. Instead, I stay in the brace position, as the car goes flying over the top of my head, spins through the air. I barely have the time to gasp in horror when it flies into the top floor of someone's house. The bumper is now sticking out of the front of the gap, and on it, I make out a large dent. A dent that is shaped suspiciously like me.

I turn and run.