HERO

26 / Epiphany

Bren looked at him through half open eyes. She didn't know what to make of the statement. Bravado would have her tell him that no, he damn well hadn't. Ain't no one like her. Never will be. Honesty would suggest she said no such thing. Of course he had. She was just a girl. Just like any other, except maybe better in control of her ability.

Bravado won.

"You got that straight," she said.

She turned to put her legs down and sit up. She started massaging her temples and groaned.

"But, what do you mean?"

He looked over to the still visible shards of glass and, though it happened all so fast, he had felt them be yanked from his grip by the same force that knocked him to the side. A force that, even though he'd drank the contents of all four bottles, hadn't come from him.

"You're so sure of yourself. I wish I could be. You jump into action when I... I don't. I'm never sure of what I'm doing. That's why I needed to see the Fixer. I have to get powers. I have to fit in."

"But why?" Bren asked. "What makes fitting in so great?"

"I get crap from everyone. Even them who's supposed to support me."

"Your dad?"

"I was thinking about the teachers, but yeah, I guess. Anyway, even without that. Everyone is just waiting for me to go nuts and destroy stuff. That's what happens if you don't get powers when you're eight."

"Powers don't solve everything. They make everything turn to shit."

"But look at you. You're not just a Chameleon." He held his hand up at the dark look from Bren at the term. "No, I'm using it as an example. You can do other stuff. Stan. Those bottles. Me!"

"You don't know that was me."

"Of course it was. It couldn't have been me."

"Maybe the bottles worked."

"Maybe they did, which they didn't. But that doesn't explain Stan. It doesn't explain why you could get me in that room back there."

"You don't weigh much, ya know."

"No, maybe I don't, but nor do you, not really. You're only a couple of years older than me and..."

"A girl?"

"Yes, you're a girl, but I didn't mean that. You could kick my arse any day."

"I could."

"I didn't mean that. Don't twist my words. I meant you dragged me quick and easy. Like it was nothing to you. Like you're..."

"A Jacker."

"Yeah."

"I know." Bren hung her head, looking ashamed. She scratched her leg through a torn part of her jeans, avoiding eye contact.

"Why is that a problem."

"We only get one. Just one. We don't get to choose, but no one, ever has had more than one power."

"So?"

"So it's impossible for me to have more."

"But you have."

"Yeah, I do."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Thomas didn't understand her problem. If she had more, wasn't that better? She could stand up to anyone. Nobody could hurt her. No one would dare. If she could see his life through his eyes, she'd see why that mattered.