Evolution by Hayden Thorne

Author:Hayden Thorne [Thorne, Hayden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Queerteen Press
Published: 2014-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The crappiest thing about being superhuman is just that—I was still human. I woke up after a couple of hours, my stomach gurgling and shrunken. I might be comfortable and totally hidden in my spur-of-the-moment hideaway—note to self: find a good place for my headquarters—but I was still broke and hungry. Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

So how did superhumans get around this sort of thing? The bed felt way too good, so I burrowed deeper under the covers, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry and ignoring my rapidly shrinking oxygen supply, while I mulled things over.

Peter still had to bow to his parents. Maybe Trent did as well. Althea got grounded, too, and was always arguing with Mrs. Horace about curfews and stuff. What about me? My family still had no clue about my transformation—no, evolution—that sounded better. It was most likely they’d still make me take out the garbage and help with the chores.

I didn’t know how to go about things. My powers never came with instructions.

You do have a teacher.

“Yeah, but I have to break him out of that insane asylum just to have lessons,” I grumbled.

Quit bitching. You owe him this.

I sighed and emerged from the cocoon of blankets, taking in deep gulps of air. “I need to go back home and eat,” I said, staring at the ceiling, which was now being swallowed up by growing shadows. “I also need a change of clothes.” Was I entitled to wear something fancy like Peter? Maybe the Trill would help me find something suitable. I honestly hadn’t considered the idea of wearing Spandex. I shuddered at the thought of my gawky-ass body in stretchy, airtight material. Talk about being a huge disappointment to average gay boys everywhere. Of course, that little detail only served to ground home the fact I was one of the bad guys.

“I’m a supervillain?” I breathed, frowning. No. A protégé. Big difference. At any rate, was I supposed to be scared by that? Something deep and kind of distant stirred at the idea. Discomfort? Fear? Maybe. For the most part, though, I toyed with the idea and let it sink in, bit by bit, expecting violent resistance from my conscience but finding none. It was a bit of a surprise.

“I’m a supervillain protégé,” I repeated and then whistled. “Wow.”

Well, I figured being an up-and-coming supervillain was way better than being a dull no-name with nothing to boast about but a lifetime of average-ness. And a dull no-name who kept getting left behind by his superhero pals. The perpetual outsider looking in. Yeah, it was much, much better to be a supervillain protégé. At least I was finally on par with Peter and everyone else. Then discomfort stirred again, and I went back and focused on another, maybe the most important, reminder.

I was now two people in one body. Or one mind, divided and yet obviously conscious of each other. Things suddenly became clear. The day of the attack at the theatre, I had alternating halves surging to full awareness, one after the other: my tweaked side and my natural side.

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