Days unfolded, classes began and while Miles enjoyed and performed very well in the classes, it was weird not having a best friend to gossip with through most of the class. And he desperately needed someone to talk to about the changes he was going through. The changes weren't giving him panic attacks like they initially did but it was still weird to look in a mirror and not be able to see himself at times. Or to break your phone screen just by playing an addictive tap game. To make things worse, he was hearing things he didn't even want to hear right now. Things that ought to be indistinct murmurs or whispers were loud and clear to him. He could hear the buzzing from the inside of the energy lines beneath the school although he'd learned to shut that out.
His eyesight was terrible too. The acne on Ms. Calhoun's face looked like planets to him due to how much better his eyesight had gotten. Growing accustomed to this new perspective of life was terrifying and he was wondering how on earth it was possible to obtain abilities from an electro-magnetic pulse.
"Hey," Hay Johnson said as she took the seat opposite him at lunch. He'd been sitting alone, staring at his spaghetti with meatballs and a couple of veggies cut up into it but hadn't eaten yet. Mostly because the spaghetti looked like one gigantic, long worm to him. Hay's presence snapped him out of super sight or whatever it was and his food looked normal to him again.
"Hey, Hay."
"That sounds funny," she replied and giggled. She waved and her pretty, blond friend came over. Michelle.
"This is weird," Miles muttered.
"How?"
"I don't have experience with being on the pretty girl table at lunch," Miles said. "I'm usually sitting with the nerdy sore loser table."
"This is Horizon High. We're all nerdy sore losers, aren't we?"
"Forget that," Michelle said, a huge smile on her face. "I think Miles here just called us pretty girls indirectly."
Miles's looked back at his plate, desperately praying for a guy to come join this table. He couldn't eat with just girls.
"Hey! Dil, right?" Michelle said as Dil walked past their table carrying his tray. He was eating a lot of veggies. No meat. When did Dil become a vegetarian?
"Yeah?" Dil said but still didn't turn back. "Who wants to know?"
"Two pretty girls, apparently," Michelle said and winked at Hay, both of them shot looks at Miles who was looking at his plate again.
"I doubt that," Dil said and continued walking. Miles looked up. Both Michelle and Hay clearly looked hurt and confused.
"Hey!" Miles yelled at Dil. "You don't have to be a dickhead every freaking time you know! People have feelings too, in case you didn't know since you're too good to be one of us!"
"What is going on?" Michelle asked but Hay shrugged looked at Dil who dropped his tray on the floor and turned back to face their table. Other people had now gotten interested in this spectacle.
"Got something to say to me, Miles?" Dil asked.
"Couple of sentences. Maybe two or three, in case you're too rich and brave to do the math yourself."
"And you're too jealous and cowardly to be matured?" Dil shot back. "Maybe if you went around things a bit differently, your old man would still be alive."
"Maybe if you didn't mention my old man again, you wouldn't get a fist shoved into your face!"
"I dare you."
Miles got up and swept his tray off food clean off the table and spilling its contents onto the floor.
"You're daring me to hit you? Dil, you're the sore loser in every group you're in even in this group of sore losers, you're the biggest one. Your family has all the money in the world and that's great but you're the scrawny kid who can't defend himself in a fight and always needs backup. The genius who gets his fame from the math I help him solve," Miles said as he walked towards Dil.
"Big talk now. Couldn't use all this to save your - -," Dil began but Miles didn't let him continue it. Miles punched him in the chest, propelling Dil backwards. Dil hit the ground hard and slid till he hit the wall. He groaned while others gasped.
"Don't ever mention my father again," Miles said. "He's ten times the man your father is. You're the little sissy bitch who kept whining about saving the school from robots and you're calling me the coward. If you're too pussy to hit the button for an EMP, I'd like to see you stand in front of a gun."
"I don't need to stand in front of a gun because I don't live in a neighborhood of thugs. Thugs like your pops. Your uncle."
Miles roared and charged at Dil. He lifted him off the ground and held him up against the wall. "Maybe you need to get out of your rich-kid neighborhood and experience the real world like me, Dillan. Instead of living behind the shadow of James Casen, how about building your own image, sissy bitch?!"
"Go to hell, Miles," Dil said. His lips had blood on them, most likely due to the force of Miles hitting his chest. Miles dropped him on the ground and turned around.
Dil grabbed one of the metal chairs while Miles's back was turned, walking away and charged at Miles. Miles felt a tingling sensation and turned around in time to see Miles coming. He shielded himself with his right hands which he thought was a bad idea but it didn't matter. The chair hit his hand hard but he didn't feel anything. He felt that something touched him but didn't feel the pain he was meant to feel.
Dil stared at him in amazement then at the chair which now had a huge dent in it. "Hit a man when he's not looking?" Miles asked, staring at Dil in disappointment. "You're the bigger coward here, Dil."
With that, Miles hurried out of the cafeteria before the issue escalated and he didn't want to hear the others start murmuring or whispering about him being on some sort of steroids. At the moment, he was angry and just felt this tingling sensation in his body like he was being electrocuted but it was more annoying than painful. His fingers felt slightly numb and he looked at them.
There was a red spark of electricity on them and he gaped. "What the hell is going on with me?"
"Neat trick," said a guy who was leaning against the wall, smartphone in his hands and his backpack on the floor beside him. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Circus," Miles answered quickly.
"There aren't any circuses around anymore," the guy said and frowned at Miles. He had short, straight dark hair and a bit of a tanned complexion with dark blue eyes and a freckled face.
"Uh, online circus?"
"That's a thing now?" the guy asked.
"Look, who are you?"
"Sam Alexander," he answered and smiled. "Guess we're the new kids on the block, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"You're that guy who lit up the school with an electromagnetic pulse," Sam said and grinned mischievously. "Badass, dude!"
"That's the story? Lit up the school?"
"That's my story," Sam said and frowned. "Where are you from?"
"Queens."
"I'm from there too," Sam said. "My folks and I used to live in New Washington but we moved here after the recent terrorist attacks there."
"Seen those on the news."
"Who hasn't? It's terrible how people kill without remorse or blow up buildings containing innocent civilians and kids. And for what? A payday?"
"You seem like the committed-to-a-cause-blogger type person. Are you?"
"Kind of. I do have a blog and a Maxtreon account where you can donate and all the income goes to charities for those injured in terrorist attacks."
"Sounds nice."
"Did the ruckus in the cafeteria have anything to do with you?" Sam asked and eyed Miles curiously. "Sounded like World War 4 was going on in there."
"Wouldn't it be World War III?" Miles asked.
"Didn't that happen already?"
"Nah, don't think so."
"Oh, well."
"And yeah, I had something to do with the ruckus," Miles said. "Best friend was being an obnoxious dick."
"Isn't that what makes him a best friend?" Sam queried.
"I guess."
"Well, it's been nice chatting you up but I gotta go," Sam said and picked up his backpack and slung it across his shoulder. "Need to get a headstart on the Chemistry practical."
"Let's do it together," Miles said. "I'm free and I guess I could use a headstart as well. So let's do it."
"Sure," Sam said and a walked down the hall to the Chemistry lab and Miles was glad. He'd already made a new friend.