Dark Side (Completed)

The Halftime Show

My feet dragged lazily across the smooth, cream tiles that paved the winding path through my educational prison. It was early, far too early for me, and my eyelids had to exert great effort to stay open. No one had turned on the lights yet, thankfully,  so the few students already here, waiting for class to start, could only see by the dim morning light filtering in through the occasional skylight.

I sighed as I came to rest at locker #297. Squinting in vain to read the numbers, I slowly spun my combination. With a triumphant grunt, I pulled open the cold metal door.

I lazily deposited my Biology textbook in exchange for my Algebra II. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I created a list in my head of all the regrets I had for staying out last night.

My thoughts were interrupted by someone calling my name, "Hey, Johanna!"

Turning my head, I found the source of the noise to be a tall blonde boy, who was now waving his hands furiously to get my attention. I waited patiently as he weaved his way through the ever growing mass of mingling teenagers.

"Lawrence," I acknowledged as he came close enough to carry on a conversation.

He stopped just in front of me and leaned against the lockers, "You going to the game tonight?"

"Oh yes, I'm just beaming  with school spirit," I replied sarcastically. His energy was unacceptable at this hour, especially because he had been up just as late as me last night. It's not fair that he can just brush away fatigue like it's nothing. I guess that's why Heroes are such good actors.

"Oh come on, Johanna," he said, folding his arms over his chest and pouting a little, "It could be fun."

"Define fun," I grumbled.

"Well, you could watch the game for a while and then spice it up a little," he suggested, "Give the audience a little shock, if you know what I mean," he winked down at me.

"Keep your voice down," I hissed. The last thing I needed was for Torch to spill my secret.

He ignored my comment, "Come on, Jay. We could put on a little halftime show."

"First, don't call me that. Second, how in the hell do you have so much energy right now. And third, what's in it for me?"

"Fine to the first. Second, it's just the way I am, and we can split some reward money for a hostage or something," he looked down at me with a lopsided grin.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply before relaxing and giving him a winning smile, "Fine. See you at halftime."

I patted his upper arm twice before walking off to my classroom.

I'll have to stop at home beforehand and grab that blasted suit. It's so uncomfortable and clingy. I try to avoid it altogether, but with an audience, I have no choice. I can't risk anyone recognizing me.

***

The squeak of shoes against the gym floor echoed around the bleachers. Cheers and shouts pounded at my head as frequently as the ball collided with the floor. Do people actually find basketball enjoyable? I guess I wouldn't know.

I sat up high in the bleachers, my back resting against the cold cement wall. From here, I had a good vantage point, and nobody really paid much attention to me. That's how I liked it.

The buzzer cranked, signaling something I didn't care about, and successfully making me cringe from the force of the sound. Absolutely obnoxious.

I tugged absentmindedly at the tight fabric around my neck. I'd unfortunately decided that it would be easier to wear my spandex underneath my clothes for a quick and efficient transformation. My discomfort was making me fidgety, and I knew for a fact that I wasn't going to make it to halftime.