Inkchanger

6: Magical Thinking

The residents of the Heights had a well-developed sense of smell when it came to trouble. Constantly looking over your shoulder for truant officers and parent-hired detectives helped. And even the newest arrivals had honed in on the scent from Zara. Her depression-fueled rages were legendary. Eric had once heard her verbally peeling the skin off a kid who'd asked why she was so creepy. Another time, she'd thrown a TV out a third-story window; her favorite character biting it on a show had thrown her into a three-day funk. Stories like that got around fast, and newbies learned to steer clear, lest they suffer defenestration, as well.

The signal to leave hit every antenna in the crowd at once. Zara's crossed arms and tapping foot likely had something to do with it. A dozen pairs of feet hastily shuffled out of the cafeteria, everyone suddenly remembering Very Important Chores that needed to be done elsewhere.

Only Eric stayed behind; his skin was practically flame retardant from persistent, voluntary exposure to Zara. Plus, he was dying to find out how Sofi had pulled off the stunt. He wasn't a fool, though, and he gingerly stepped out of punching radius.

Sofi, however, boldly stepped forward as the room emptied. "What's the big deal, Z?" she said, miffed to have lost spotlight.

"What do you mean, 'what's the big deal?'!" Zara said, nearly shouting. This stacked on top of the inkpen-hangover, she was coming unhinged. "You just benched three times your weight in seating, and you've never been able to carry the goddamn laundry basket more than a hundred yards without getting winded! How the fuck did you do that?!" Her eyes were wide, but with anger or wonder, even she wasn't entirely sure.

Sofi shrugged. "Dunno, really. I woke up feeling like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for me to do something."

"Is that why our room looks like it was attacked by a meth-addicted Mary Poppins?"

"Yeah!" Sofi laughed. "The place was a wreck, and it was nearly all my mess. You were dead to the world, so I thought I'd clean up a little. Seemed like the right thing to do after you did all this amazing work." She gestured to her exposed shoulder.

Zara noticed for the first time Sofi was showing off her new tattoo with a racerback tank top, despite the autumn chill. The design seemed to be glowing faintly to Zara's eyes. Probably a trick of the light – the building's antiquated fluorescent bulbs were constantly on the fritz.

"After that, I was freaking starving," Sofi continued. "Seriously, I could've eaten an entire cow. And when I got down here for breakfast, one of the tables had busted and some of the little guys were trying to move it out of the way, but it wouldn't budge. Figured I'd try to help, so I walked up and... lifted it."

"It's true, Z," Eric broke in. "Tina, Sammy, and Dave couldn't wrangle it out to the shop door, so they begged Sofi to do it since she's bigger and older. Then she got all pissy like she usually does when you ask her to lift anything heavy," he winced as Sofi made a snotty face at him, "but when she put her hands on it, it came clear up off the ground. Spooked the hell out of all of us. But then the kids started asking her to lift more and more stuff, and it kinda just turned into what you saw. She'd been leg-pressing that table nearly three whole minutes before you broke it up."

Sofi was grinning from ear to ear as Eric described her exploits, stretching and flexing a bit. Muscles stood out from her arms, making smooth, firm curves that Zara could've sworn were soft and squishy only yesterday. And she held herself differently. Usually, Sofi slouched to hide her bigness, like she was trying to flip herself inside out, but now she stood ramrod straight, and the sunny confidence she'd always emanated was subdued somehow. She seemed imposing, in a stately and regal way. A mother bear watching over her cubs.