Getting ready for school after months of living in a post-apocalyptic wasteland was just...weird. Yet here I was, backpack on, lunch packed, waiting at the bus stop with Amy. She seemed...antsy. She hadn't planned on coming to school today, but when I'd come by to see if she was, she'd changed her mind. I wasn't sure why, but it was kind of nice to not be alone at the stop.

  It was practically empty when we boarded, which was a little odd, but it quickly began to fill up as the bus drove on. I kept my gaze roaming, seeing if I recognized anyone coming on board. I wasn't sure I believed Skitter when she said she wouldn't out me. God knew her and her shitty girlfriend didn't keep secrets from each other.

  I forced myself to breathe slow and deep. It was going to be fine. Skitter and I had come to an understanding and she wasn't that much of an asshole. Probably. Amy huddled closer as the bus filled up, apparently as nervous as I was. Oh, yeah, her sister would probably be at school too. Well, that wasn't really a problem I could help with; if Victoria saw me, she'd probably react as badly.

  Besides, I had a bigger issue to deal with. Finding Greg was going to be like hunting for a particularly annoying needle in a haystack. I had a bare-bones description, and while I was confident I could find him with enough time I wasn’t sure I had time. I still had to show up for class and stuff, and if I just disappeared people would ask questions. That was the last thing I needed when I was technically helping a villain.

  The bus finally arrived and, fortunately, it looked like we were fairly early. That was by design, I wanted to just hang out by the entrance and keep an eye out. Unfortunately I couldn’t do that from the start, the first destination once we’d arrived was the front office. Even though it wasn’t quite eight, the place was packed with students trying to register for classes. Amy and I shared a look, then joined the line.

  “Didn’t think it would be so busy,” Amy muttered as we waited.

  “Right?” I replied. “Looks like half of them weren’t even here for the last couple months.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  I couldn’t really, but it didn’t stop the feeling of resentment. Sure if I’d been smarter if...if I hadn’t been on my own, I probably would have left too. I wasn’t the only one feeling that way. Most of those people who’d obviously stayed, judging by their scars and haunted looks, weren’t looking at them kindly. A fairly slight girl, head half shaved, knocked a comparatively burly guy in a nice polo shirt out of line and took his spot. The guy meekly went to the back.

  This was going to be the next two months of my life, really the next year and a bit. Balancing school, hero work, finding a new family… It was almost enough to make me miss the relative simplicity of running around the city trying not to die. At least I didn’t have to worry about anyone else, besides the person I’d been trying to save.

  After almost half an hour, we made it to the front of the line. They didn’t take our IDs or anything, just jotted down the classes we needed and printed off a tentative schedule. We were due to start soon, so I told Amy to head on without me, complaining about having to use the washroom. She bought the excuse and carried on while I found a place near the entrance and settled in.

  I wasn’t going to wait long. If I hadn’t seen Greg by the time first period started, he was probably in a classroom. At that point I had to start hunting which sucked but at least I was on familiar ground. Arcadia was big, the biggest high school in the city, but there were only so many places he could be hiding.

  My eyes roamed the throng of students pressing in through the front. I recognized a couple, people I’d gone to class with, and I was pretty sure I saw Dean too. He didn’t notice me at least, if it was him. There were a hell of a lot of people though. Arcadia wasn’t the only high school opened in the city now, but it was definitely the main one these days.

  There was a foreign familiarity too, the other’s memories creeping in. Arcadia was sort of similar to the one it remembered, though even larger. I took a moment during a lull in the crowd to glance at my schedule. It was pretty much the same as my old one had been, though Global History had been pushed back to the end of the day and Textiles wasn’t even on there. I guess it wasn’t vital, but I’d been looking forward to finishing the little skirt I’d been working on.

  The first bell rang, signaling the start of class. I stayed put as the crowd of students swelled, people who were hanging outside coming in. Hundreds of bodies pressed and jockeyed for space, and I saw more than one random punch thrown. No real fights though, just the reactions of a crowd of badly traumatized teens. No blood either, so at least security was doing their job.

  Unfortunately, no Greg, at least not that I could see; though I was too fucking short to actually see over most people. The crowd began to thin as the second bell rang and I swore under my breath. No way he wouldn’t have come, not with the promise of meeting a real live warlord. Insane sentiment, but I guess he was fifteen and kind of a loser. If he thought his classmate was cool and had a shot with her, no way he’d avoid it.

  Guys were fucking weird.

  Had to find him before this got ugly. I pushed off the wall and started moving through the halls. I’d do a sweep, one end of the school to the other. It was arranged like a big H, sort of, so it wouldn’t be too hard to make sure I covered the whole place. I quietly walked through the halls, pausing and looking in the windows of every classroom I passed.

  At least, I did until I realized they were all labeled and I could just figure it out that way. Greg was a freshman, tenth grade, so I was able to make better time once I figured that out. Not that it seemed to help, the little blonde shit was nowhere to be found. How hard could it be to find a guy with a bowl-cut in high school?! Apparently quite.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  I headed up to the second floor once I made one fruitless sweep of the first, cursing the little dumbass making me do this. Who the fuck stalked and tried to out a supervillain? Was he suicidal? Maybe what Greg really needed was some therapy, instead of a stern talking to about the Schmidt Pain Index. The last part was the only thing keeping me going on this stupid quest…

  The bell rang while I was part-way through the second floor, and I cursed viciously as the hallways filled up again. My projection let me avoid the worst of the crush and I managed to get to the side of the hall. Once there, I paused and crowd-watched again, searching for any sign of Greg. I was about to give up when I caught a flash of round, blonde hair bobbing past my view.

  I joined the crowd, tailing the bowl-cut several people ahead of me. He looked a little shorter than Taylor, and broadly matched the description she’d given, so I’d have to assume it was. Otherwise...well, I guess I’d just have to keep looking. We headed down to the first floor and I gained a little on him. We were heading towards the gym, maybe not the best place for a chat but I could probably find a little corner.

  When we got there and he finally grabbed a desk, I realized it had to be him. My heart beat a little faster and I paused, considering how to do this. I didn’t want him knowing I was a cape, obviously, so I couldn’t approach him as a concerned hero. That probably wouldn’t help anyway, if he was already on Skitter’s side.

  Persuasion was a wash; I was about as sociable as a diseased hedgehog with half the patience. What was left then? Intimidation. The thought almost made me snort with laughter. Yes, the terrifying Amelia D’souza, five-two and maybe a hundred pounds, nightmare of villains everywhere. If Greg wasn’t quaking in his boots with fear after I talked to him, he probably would be with laughter.

  Still, he was a nerd, a pussy. If I even suggested there was violence in his future, he’d crumble. It was fucked up, maybe, but I was trying to avoid something worse. Threatening a fifteen-year-old on behalf of a supervillain, all to avoid a worse outcome. I took a deep breath and tried not to consider that Taylor would probably pick the same path…

  “Hey,” I said quietly, poking his arm. “Are you Greg Veder?” He turned to me, blue eyes wide.

  “Um, yeah I am,” he replied quietly. “Who uh, are you?” I forced a smile on my face.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said, ignoring his question. “C’mon, follow me.”

  To my shock, he rose and did. Must be attention starved or something, but that just made things easier for me. I led him out of the gym and down the hall, ducking into a small alcove that led to the storage room. Greg stood across from me, cheeks flushed and eyes like saucers. His gaze flicked around, and I spared a glance over my shoulder to make sure we were alone.

  “Um,” he began, shuffling in place. “So who are you?”

  “Not important,” I replied, lowering my voice. “What is important is who sent me, and why they did. You’ve been doing some snooping, Greg.”

  “What do you—”

  “Stop.” His mouth snapped shut with the click of teeth. “We noticed you looking into our boss’ background. She’s quite concerned about her privacy, I’m sure you understand, so asked me to pass along a message: forget Skitter, and forget whatever you’re thinking about her.”

  “S-Skitter?” I rolled my eyes. “Why would I want anything to do with her.”

  “Playing dumb is only going to piss me off,” I growled, letting my irritation show. “We’ve been looking into people speculating about her online, and you happen to be the worst offender. Hence why I’m here, and why you should be very glad she isn’t. Have you heard of the Schmidt Pain Index? Smart guy like you I’m sure you have.”

  “T-Taylor wouldn’t—”

  “Taylor?” I snorted. “Who the fuck is Taylor?”

  “Taylor Hebert, s-she’s a classmate of mine, we went to Winslow together.” His shoulders were shaking and somehow his eyes got wider. “Sh-she’s like...it fit…”

  “Describe her,” I snapped.

  “U-um, she’s tall and uhh.” Oh my god was he starting to cry? “K-kinda skinny, and she likes computers, and books, and—”

  “So she’s a loser, like you,” I cut him off. “Sorry Greg, people like you don’t become capes.” That was a whopper of a lie, but he reacted like he’d been struck. “Dunno who the fuck this Hebert is, but you’re barking up the wrong tree; at least, for now. I’m here to make sure you stop before you get any closer. If you don’t, well, Skitter always has time to teach people a lesson. Am I clear?” He whimpered and nodded. “Out loud. I need to know you understand, Greg.”

  “I’ll stop looking,” he said shakily, hissing under his breath. “I-I won’t say a word, j-just don’t hurt me.” I smiled and reached up, gently patting his cheek.

  “Of course not,” I replied easily. “I’d never deprive Skitter of some future fun. See you Greg, and you’d better hope you don’t see me.”

  I turned on my heel and left him, trying to slow my hammering heart. That hadn’t been fun. Whatever I thought about Greg, he was a civilian, an innocent. He was also the catalyst for Taylor's life falling apart, though hopefully now that could be avoided. I shook off the dregs of guilt dogging my heels and checked my schedule, then groaned. Fucking math, really?

  Whatever, better than having to deal with capeshit all day long. Truly the most disgusting thing about recruiting superpowered teenagers to fight world-ending threats was that it made class look comfortable and easy by comparison. I slipped into the classroom, quietly apologizing to the teacher before I made my way to the back and sat down next to Amy. She gave me a questioning look, but I just waved her off. Didn’t really want to talk about it. The earlier excitement made class pass fairly quick, and before long the bell rang and we were free once again.

  “Where the fuck were you?” Amy hissed as we joined the press of bodies in the hallway again. “Are you sick? Do I need to heal some food poisoning or something?”

  “I’m fine Amy,” I said with a sigh. “Just...wasn’t feeling good this morning, about coming back.” She grimaced and nodded.

  “I’m still hoping to avoid Dean and...and Victoria,” she said after a moment. “It’s uhh, yeah.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Hey what’s next for you?”

  “Um, I think...PE, ugh.”

  “Same,” I said, checking my sheet. “C’mon, let’s—”

  My voice caught in my throat as a lanky girl with a head full of thick, black curls passed by. She wore a shirt that clung to her frame, exposing a little bit of belly, and a pair of denim shorts. Her wide lips were fixed in a slight scowl, large eyes focused on the crowd ahead of her. Taylor Hebert passed by quickly, leaving my heart pounding and throat dry.

  “Lia, you okay?” Amy sounded concerned. I turned and offered a smile.

  “Yeah just...thought I saw a friend.” I swallowed and took a step back. “Actually I’m gonna go say hi. Catch up?” She sighed and nodded, then vanished into the crowd.

  I turned on my heel and dove in, determined to figure out just what kind of stupid pills Skitter was taking today.