The door was ephemeral yet very much tangible. It danced in Jackson's vision, a million worms writhing within the wooden frame. He felt lightheaded, from both anxiety and a sudden headache. One probably caused by the anxiety. Yeah, Jackson wasn't having a great time.
If only he could work up the courage to knock on the door. He could hear voices inside; it was 10:00, a full hour after the party was supposed to start. Apparently, Selina's parents were away for the weekend with business in Portland. Jackson couldn't help but think throwing a party while they were gone was a little trite, but his headache prevented him from diving deep into any one inconsistency. It was small miracle his mom allowed him to be out this late, taking a threefold attack of absence guilt, the "I'm almost in college" maneuver, and his infamous half truth stratagem to convince her. It was exhilarating to have tricked his parents, but in all honesty, he didn't think he did. It was one thing to lie to classmates that barely knew you, but his parents knew all his verbal ticks.
Not that they knew his power. They probably suspected Jackson has a superpower he didn't want to talk about, but that's no rare thing for parents to encounter, especially in Vera City.
Inching just a little closer, Jackson continued hallucinating horrible monsters in the doorway, any reason for him to stay away. Who cares that Selina was nice enough to think of inviting him, he only had to spend another year at that damn school. Graduate and all his burnt bridges would look a lot more like tactical retreats.
"Hey, dude, what are you doing just standing out here?" A voice said, startling Jackson. The voice had come from a short blonde teen behind him, one he did not recognize. He was with a girl of an identity also unknown to Jackson, who from her haunted expression looked as if she had been dragged along unwillingly. "You going in?" the boy asked.
"Yeah. Sorry," Jackson apologized, stepping out of their way. The boy looked at Jackson funnily but smiled in a warm, not at all condescending way, which considering the situation is not what he had expected.
The boy wrapped his arm around Jackson's shoulder and started walking towards the door. "Well then what are we waiting for. Let's get movin'!"
The girl kept pace behind them, scolding the boy. "Chase, don't be rude."
"Ah, he'll thank me later Sam," Chase responded, brushing off her complaint.
And before either could say another word, they were at the door and Chase was knocking on it.
There was an awkward pause between when the knocking occurred and when the door was opened. The three of them shuffled their feet silently while Chase let go of Jackson. They say there's a lull in conversation every seven minutes, but Jackson was certain it had barely been thirty seconds since he had encountered this bunch.
"So..." he breached, making small talk, "You guys know Selina?"
"No." "Sorta."
Sam hit Chase, causing him to blurt out a hasty, "I mean, no." Jackson figured that was enough prying.
When the door finally opened, it was Selina who greeted them. "I thought I had seen someone sitting out there for no reason!" she said. "Come on in Jackson, and. Uh..."
Chase was about to reach his hand out to introduce himself, but Sam stopped him and instead introduced them to her. "I'm Samantha, and this is Chase," she said.
"Did... you invite them?" Selina asked Jackson, with a pained expression.
"Never seen them before," he responded.
Her face instantly brightened. "Alright, well get in here! And, you two." Before she could finish speaking, Chase and Samantha were inside the house, out of eye and earshot over pumping music. "Well never mind then. Come on in, let's get you a drink."
Jackson was about to object, but before he knew it he was in their kitchen with a paper cup of some brown liquid. It was strange, the crowd seemed to part around Selina as she walked through the various rooms with Jackson in tow. The party was as annoyingly stereotypical as it seemed. Drinks, music, more drinks, some asshole taking a long time in the bathroom. At least the cups weren't the red solo ones seen in every teen flick. They were clear and without a lip, instead sloping up at a very strange angle. Jackson watched his cup because he didn't dare interact with anyone and didn't dare drink from it.
The interaction wasn't a problem, Selina did most of that for him. Still, in her high-end colonial kitchen, Selina Sadie Demarcson made sure to keep Jackson engaged. It was actually honorable the lengths she went to. As they talked about school and homework, Jackson couldn't help but feel detached from the entire ordeal. He couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't have come. Something felt off, whether it was the uber-expensive house, the rowdy teenagers, or how Selina seemed to laugh just a little too much when he cracked a joke about the (in his opinion, tacky) chandelier. It wasn't even that funny.
"Hey. Time kid," a rough voice called, belonging to Connor as he waded between two Juniors inadvertently blocking the kitchen entrance. "I've been looking all over for you! Get over here!"
When the muscle-bound student finally reached them, Jackson shared a meaningful glance with him. It was a look that screamed, "go along with it, trust me."
"Hey, Connor. Where are we going?" he asked.
Selina stayed silent, watching Connor like a hawk. "The living room. Me and Daniel are hangin' over there."
"Oh, go have fun." Selina giggled, waving her hands, "I need to throw out whoever's hogging the toilet anyways."
And with that, they were off in their trek across the house. Without Selina it was considerably harder, Connor had to physically move some people who didn't understand the concept of leaving room for foot traffic. In fact, very few people seemed to have respect for personal space. Jackson tucked in his shoulders to make himself smaller, but was still jostled around a few times. Fortunately, Connor and Damien had carved out their own little corner of the living room, on a couch resting against a shuttered window. What they had failed to mention was Melanie was also with them.
She was in acid-washed jeans and white blouse, the most causal Jackson had ever seen her. Melanie, as with all the other members of the Collins family, had impeccable taste when it came to public image. He was fairly surprised and strangely comforted that she wasn't at that level of formality all the time.
"You actually came," she stated. She made no indication it was a question, but also made no attempt to continue the conversation until Jackson responded.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Well, good," Melanie coldly clattered. She seemed to be clenching her teeth, with her arms close to her side. In fact, everything about Melanie's behavior seemed... off. It was almost as if she was a different person. After her final comment, she abruptly stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Jackson didn't think she was avoiding him, although that's what he would have thought if not for their conversation at the Writing Well. Instead, his theory was she had something else going on, taking up all her concentration. Jackson got the same way often, like all social interaction was wasting valuable time. Well, he thought that most of the time anyway.
Damien coughed, the kind of fake cough used to lighten up a tense atmosphere. "Heya Jack!" He grinned, "Forget about your old pal the Golden Snake?"
"Should you be flaunting that name around? Isn't that your secret identity?"
"Oh, it's no biggie. We're all friends here. Stop worrying, C'mon, enjoy the night! Show off your powers! Some girls," his tone of voice suddenly changed from a yell to a whisper. He leaned down to Jackson's ear, and he could smell alcohol, "Some girls think powers are super hot. Or guys if that's your thing. You see that guy over there?" He pointed to a tall kid leaning on a wall, chatting to Lillian and Jennifer. "That's Kevin. I can hook you two up if ya want, play wingman."
"Uh, no, I'm good?"
"Not gay or not interested?" Damien slurred.
"Both. Thanks, Damien, but you probably need to sit down. Remember, don't tell anyone your secret identity. What if a supervillain overhears?"
"What kind of supervillain goes to a high school party?"
***
Not one, but two supervillains were currently at Selina's party. At least, that was the hunch Ivory Coldstone had as she entered the Demarcson residence. Surprisingly, there was no one at the door to greet her or potentially kick her out. Ivory didn't have much experience in parties, but if she was to throw one she would definitely have a bouncer. Maybe a bouncer could have stopped what she would have to stop herself.
Ivory awkwardly shuffled past her classmates, keeping a keen eye out for her targets. The first person she spotted was Jackson, the guy who had told her about the party. Ivory considered dragging him into her mission, but restrained herself. As much as she wanted Jackson to be her partner in crime, (partner in crime-fighting?) He still wasn't fully on board with the idea. Well, that would be putting it mildly, she mused to herself. Instead, Ivory moved on, still scanning the crowd.
She saw them by the stairs, one downing a cup of something while the other jostled through a backpack. It was Chase Dresser And Samantha Quincy, or as they liked to be known, Prince and the Thief. Okay, maybe it was just her who called them that, Ivory didn't know what their real codenames were. Still, she felt ecstatic that her hunch was correct. Samantha would never give up the chance to do a home invasion right under the owner's nose, and Chase would never give up the chance to go to a party.
Still a ways away from them, Ivory grabbed a small lighter from her pocket and rolled it between her fingers. It was a dull silver, engraved with western imagery including three horses, a ghost town, a gold mine, two cowboys, and a grand total of eight hats. She opened it with one hand and pressed the plunger, but no flame came out. Instead, Ivory held it up to her ear, pretending it was a phone and she was taking a call.
"Did you even hear what Chad did yesterday?" A voice emanated from the lighter. The voice was coming from a short brunette who Ivory had been just casually glancing at. As her gaze shifted, so did the voice she heard.
"That impossible, I don't believe it."
"Yeah, I heard he was a planar."
"No way!"
Ivory focused in on Chase and Samantha, staring at them in what she hoped was a discreet way.
"Ready Sam?" Chase said.
Samantha sighed. "Yeah, it's just gonna be a long night."
"Hey, think about how great it will be if this works! Johnathan Demarcsons personal files. Second in command at the AHB under the legendary Lance Hannigan."
"I know. Stay quiet, you don't know if someone could be listening in. Maybe hearing enhancement powers?"
"Don't be paranoid. No one cares, they're all too drunk. Besides, we'll be talking through these." He held up a pair of innocuous earbuds. "No matter how well someone can hear, they can't hear radio waves."
"Yeah, you're right for once. I'm gonna get phase one started, make sure nobody follows me," she told him, pulling her backpack on.
"You have the equipment?"
"Duh. Straight from Marc himself," she bragged and headed up the stairs. Chase leaned against the wall with one earbud in, pretending to listen to music. His voice dropped below a whisper, making even Ivory's "lighter" too quiet. She stashed it back into her pocket and decided to wait for an opportunity to arise.
She knew she couldn't take on Chase. For someone who tried to keep his powers secret, he used them pretty often, and Ivory knew she would be affected by his charm. Samantha, on the other hand... She Ivory could deal with. Now if only Chase would move.
Her opening came when the brunette Ivory had overheard earlier walked up to Chase and started a conversation. After only two minutes, they were headed to the kitchen to grab drinks. Perfect.
Ivory reached into her other pocket and grabbed a Pez dispenser, mentally preparing herself. She walked over to the stairs, ready to apprehend Samantha and deal justice to the two of them. How evil do you have to be to steal from those who fight so hard to make the world a better place for those with powers: the Adjusted Human Bureau? They deserved to be caught, and Ivory deserved to do the catching.
Or so she would have, but on her way to the stairs she was stopped by two obnoxious people she knew all too well.
Lillian and Jennifer (or, if you asked Jennifer, Jennifer and Lillian) were crossing their arms, leaning on each other's backs, staring at Ivory. They were, once again, matching except that Jennifer wore an oversized Letterman Jacket for Takeshi High. Ivory wondered if she had a boyfriend on the football team, but she could just make out the words "class of '77" on a shoulder patch.
"Nice Jacket." Ivory said, throwing Lillian off more than Jennifer. She visibly recoiled, while Jennifer did a little twirl to show it off. "Yeah, it's nice, right? Maybe if you weren't a shut-in and did athletics, you could have one."
While Ivory knew they had the power in this situation --- they were good friends of Selina, whose not so humble abode they were currently in --- she just couldn't let that one slide. Her snarky response mechanism kicking in before she could stop herself, she retorted "Well maybe you should do some athletics also, so you won't have to borrow your dad's."
Lillian tried to butt in, starting "Well actually---" but Jennifer cut her off. "It's mine. Its something called vintage, honey, maybe you've heard of it? You seem to love that Calypsos jacket of yours. But then again, I sure hope your father didn't do what he would have had to to get one of those."
Their biting repartee continued in a similar fashion, as it always did. Lord knows those two had caused her enough trouble in the past. Without them, maybe she'd have friends. Well, this time, Ivory had to break from their ridicule. She had a job to do, justice to deal.
"Sorry ladies, if you could please excuse me..." she dismissively waved, walking around them.
"Where do you think you're going you little bitch?" Lillian said, just a tiny bit too loud. Loud enough that dozens of eyes turned to them and chatter died down noticeably.
Damn, seems like she wouldn't be able to escape just yet.