Masquerade

Chapter 23: First Flights

Sitting back down in his seat with two copies of First Flights, Skylar sighed and glared at Lincoln, who looked back with an innocent look on his face. "Why did you have to do that?" Skylar accused.

"Do what?" Lincoln looked over at Alex and Rini and grinned back at Skylar impishly. "Oh, that. I just thought that with a little push, you might be able to get the balls you need to ask her out."

Narrowing his eyes, Skylar took a deep breath. "What is your issue?"

Throwing an arm around his best friend, Lincoln leaned in closer and sighed. "Alright. Here's the deal. I get the feeling that you're for some reason, lonely. It's ridiculous, considering your friends with moi, but I'm getting that vibe. I'm trying to do you a favour, okay? Is it illegal for me to want to do something nice for my bud?"

"No," Skylar grumbled. "But still, you should still talk to me first before doing that. She already can't stand me. I don't need you making it worse."

He winked. "Don't worry, Sky. When I'm done, she won't be able to resist you." Lincoln nodded his head towards Alex. "It'll be a piece of cake."

"Settle down!" Ms. Price called out to the class. "I should hear either quiet whispers, or the flipping of pages. Remember. You actually have to read these books. I will be doing checks on everything to make sure you're not plagiarizing, which, I will remind you, means you will get no marks on this assignment. You would get a zero. Both of you." She looked around the room pointedly before sitting back down and continuing something on her laptop.

Lincoln sighed, but cracked open the book and flipped past the first few pages, the table of contents, and the author's note at the beginning to the first chapter.

Trying to do the same, Skylar stared at the cover of his book, which featured the back of a boy sitting on a dock by the ocean in front of a sunset.

The boy on the cover had shaggy blond hair, outlined by the golden glow of the sunset in front of him, surrounding the boy's head in what looked like a halo, or an aura or something. It reminded Skylar of his own hair when he flew; unruly, messy, and untameable.

Sometimes, when he'd return home from some kind of rescue, it would take twenty minutes to get all the knots out of his hair.

Often, he would rip out half of his hair in the process.

The sunset was beautiful on the cover. It looked like it was taken at what Skylar and his father, a photographer, called The Golden Hour. That time of day when the sun is setting and everything is washed in a golden light.

Over all, the image was gorgeous, but not exactly... mesmerizing. It didn't draw Skylar in like the books that he enjoyed reading.

He snuck a glance over at Lincoln, who was, unsurprisingly, asleep. He looked past Lincoln, at Alex, and saw that she looked pretty interested in her book, His Journey. It was reminiscent of the look on her face when he had first saved her from the armed robber.

A mix of awe, and intrigue.

She was in her own little world.

And Skylar was stuck in a reality where the only time he could get Alex to notice him was when he either made a fool of himself, or when he was Sparrow.

He'd rather not make a fool of himself all that often, so really, the only way to get her attention was when he was in a Super suit.

For once, he resented his alter ego. The first girl that actually caught his eye, and it was the girl that only liked him when his face was covered. It was a real blow to his confidence and his ego. As a teenage male, his ego was pretty precious and close to him. When it got wounded, then it was like he couldn't do anything.

In Skylar's case, his ego had everything to do with his capabilities. His powers. His ability to do things.

He could take down robbers, kidnappers, murderers. He even gave Eximius a good fight. Albeit, he got away, but still.

He had managed to get a hold of his powers in only six months. That was incredible, by Super standards. Or, so he had heard. He had mastered flight in five months. He learned how to read minds in six. His reflexes were perfected in three.

In only six months, Sparrow was born.

And yet, he couldn't manage to get the girl without a mask and a stupid bird costume.

He felt the urge to read Alex's mind. To see what she was thinking. Was she thinking about him--Sparrow, that is. Or was she totally and completely focused on the story in her hands.

Skylar looked down at his own story. Maybe it would take his mind off of the First-World issues he was tormenting himself about.

He quietly opened the book, flipped to the first page, and began to read.

Emmett Meila sat on the pew silently, just as he was told to do. It was hard, and lumpy, and probably the least comfortable thing he had ever sat on. The fabric was maroon, frayed, and stained with some unnameable liquid. The paint was peeling off of the wood, falling in pieces to the carpeted floor that covered the entire area of the church. He wanted to pick off the paint. He wanted to peel it all off, revealing the old, worn brownish-gray wood that lay underneath.

On his right, his grandmother sat straight up with perfect posture as she took out her small little handkerchief and delicately dabbed at her watery eyes.

On his left, his Aunt Lucia and her husband, Ian, sat together, their hands intertwined as they listened to the officiant talk about his stupid comforting words that really weren't comforting at all.

They were empty.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens," his other Aunt Millie said, her words thick with unshed tears. "A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot. A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build. A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.Our beloved Annie and Frank will always be missed. We will miss their laughter, and their carefree natures.

"We will miss all of the times we've spent with them. And yet, we must all remember that everything comes with a purpose. Whether that be a birth or a death. A coming, or a going."

Emmett looked up and saw that Millie was looking directly at him. He diverted his gaze.

"No matter what things look like now, they will get easier," Millie continued. "They may not get better, but they get easier." 

________________________________________________________

Yay! I managed to update after forever! Comment, vote and all of that jazz! What did you think of the excerpt of First Flights?

First Flights IS my creation, and I did not take it from anywhere.