Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Chapter1: The First Day of the Rest of My Life

I just realized that my main character’s name is Lance Armstrong. I want to make clear this story bears no resemblance to the life of the athlete Lance Armstrong. Before the edit, the main character’s name was supposed to be Sebastian.

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September 2009,

Riiiing

Riiiing,

Riiiiing,


“Alexander Lancelot Armstrong! Wake up, its time to get ready for the FIRST DAY of SCHOOL!”

“Uhhh, mom, I’m up. I’m up.”

The curtains were drawn as tightly as possible, but hints of sunshine still leaked in. Sunlight…what a pain.

Crawling out of bed… Thump…ouch…now I know why the alarm didn’t go off. It seems that sometime during the night, I must have knocked it on the floor.

Getting up from the floor, the first thing I did was make sure to put on my specialized carbon-quartz glasses. For reasons, I have yet to understand as well as the half-dozen specialist my parents have taken me to over the years my eyes seem to be supersensitive to sunlight though to compensate my night vision is almost cat-like.

Grabs gray hoodie from the closet as well finds a clean black t-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans from the drawer. Change. Go to the bathroom to do my business. Done.

Now, go down stairs for breakfast.

Hi, my name is Lance Armstrong. And please no bicyclist jokes; I have heard enough of them in my lifetime that I would be perfectly content to never hear another one ever again. Anyway, I’m fifteen years old but due to my birthday being just before the cutoff, I get to be a junior this year. So basically I am always the youngest of my class. Which incidentally happens to be the new junior class at Hercules High School, an airborne high school for sidekicks.

Yeah that’s right, I’m a super. Although considering who my parents are I’m a real letdown. You see, my parents the greatest super duo on the planet. Have been so for the past decade according to Cosmos, Seventeen, Vanity Fair, and every other popular media in the world. Yep, my parents are Supernova, with her amazing stellar-based powers equal to that of white dwarf star and ageless beauty she has capture the love and respect of the American people since her debut two decades ago, and the legendry All-American hero Mr. Amazing, possibly the strongest human on Earth. But, somehow despite having come from the most amazingly awesome gene pool, my powers are how should you say…

“LANCE!”

“Coming, mom.”

Step,
Step,
Step

Runs into the kitchen, where at the setting the table is a drop-dead gorgeous redhead who could give Rita Haywood in her heyday a run for her money. Even though she look like is in her twenties, she actually just turned forty a few months past. Putting her hands on her hips with a mock stern look on her face though her sparkling golden brown eyes twinkle with amusement, “Honestly Lance, after all the work I put on making the perfect first day of school breakfast for you.”

Attempting to look chasten but failing, “Sorry, mom.”

Taking a seat in front of the sunny side up eggs and sizzling bacon. “Is dad up yet?”

“Yes, he’s freshening up….”

Beep beep beep


Suddenly the Protectors alarm goes off. Without in a blink of an eye Pamela Armstrong is no more instead Supernova whose entire body even her hair is plumed with cosmic energy resembling flames.

*Click*

Whipping out her Protector’s comm., “Status?” “I see” “Right away.”

Click

“Mr. Amazing, it’s time to suit up. Dr. Mastermind has a giant mind freeze ray and is holding the city of Boston for ransom.”
Coming into the kitchen, six-feet-four-inches of pure unadulterated muscle clad in red, white, and blue spandex with a red cape with his darkish hair slicked back is Mr. Amazing. With the strength to carry a mountain on his back, skin so tough that it’s practically invulnerable, as well as able to jump a eighth of an inch into the air. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Oh Honey, I’m so sorry your father and I won’t be able to see you off.”

“Mom, its no problem the city of Boston needs you.”

“Right.”

With that the super duo opens the closest door where they keep the teleporter and beam themselves out.


Watching my parents go super mode is interesting, but after almost sixteen years it gets a little old. And sometimes I just wish they were plain Pam and Theo Armstrong, owners of the Heroic Style clothing chain. I’m pretty lucky in that my folks have pretty stable alter egos who own a large two story five bedroom three baths home in the surbs.’ My parents always did want more kids instead they got just me….

Knock

Knock

Than without waiting for me to answer the door, Derrick Cooper and Lydia Hubbard walk in. My two best friends in the whole wide world. We lived next doors to each other since my family moved in a decade ago. There use to be four of us but….

So you are probably wondering about my two best friends or if not I’m going to tell you about them anyways, let’s start with Lydia. Lydia Hubbard, first off, do not let the name fool you. She is actually 100% Chinese, and if you ever have a chance to talk to her than you will no doubt get a long lecture of the pitfalls of a patriarchal system that prides sons over daughters and how lucky she is to have been adopted by a American couple or else who knows what kind of life she could be living now. You see, Martha Hubbard and Jonathan Hubbard aka Nascar, one of the Golden Age’s champions, couldn’t have kids of their own on the count of Nascar getting his super speed powers from getting hit by lightning while working at a nuclear power plant, which basically drop his sperm count to zero. So, they decided to open their home and hearts to orphans with super powers. Lydia is the third, before her is nineteen year old war-torn Bosnian telepath Peter, then its Nigerian seventeen-year-old expath (she can manipulate the emotions of others), than are the nine-year old Argentinean twins Andy and Randy who not only share a telepathic link but if they join their right hands they can shoot ice beams and if they join left hands they can shoot fire balls, and finally there is sweet seven-year-old Melissa the only American-born who one of the scariest gifts of all, prophecy.
Lydia at a hair under five feet and with a almost chest less gymnast figure, people often mistake her for a eleven or twelve year old, but she is also as cute as a button. Tell her that at her your own peril. A natural born stylista, she doesn’t follow the trends of fashion, nope she makes them. Which is fortunate since her powers is to psionically shift the atoms and molecules of her clothing to alter their appearance. (Which may not seem like much of a power, but when you can turn a two-piece bikini into a suit of near indestructible metal alloy adamantium armor, people get impressed).

As for my main man, green-eyed chocolate skinned with dreadlocks to his mid-back six-three two hundred thirty pounds of hunk, Derrick Cooper, is kind of the big man on campus both figuratively and literally. Derrick has diamond hard skin that makes him near invulnerable. He lives across the street, with his mom Sandra Carter (she will keep her name, thank you very much), the super heroine formerly known as Bejewel she retired after having Derrick’s older sister Danielle (now nineteen pre-med student at Yale as well as part-time heroine Jewel, she inherited her mother’s power of sub-sonic flight by means of rapid forward propulsion that left a highly-visible tri-colored band of light in her wake.) and works as estate agent, while his father is the legendary non-powered Max Cooper aka Black Diamond who is for the most part now a stay-at-home dad, twelve years ago in a battle against his arch-nemesis Cold Fury who broke Cooper’s back (despite wearing a alloy steel battlesuit) and is in a wheelchair for life (though that hasn’t bought him down, instead he is a role model for all people living with a handicap). Biracial Derrick has always tried to be a role model for black youths across the nation just like his father.

Munch, Munch

“Your done eating that right,” Both Lydia and Derrick already snacking on the strips of bacons.

Eye roll, “Gee, couldn’t you two at least ask first?”

Lydia shrugs. “Not like you were going to eat it anyway.”

Sigh, “I know.”

It’s true for some reason, for the past couple of months no matter how mouths’ watering the food smells I just don’t have the desire to eat it. Although for some reason I am now always thirsty and carry a bottle of water with me at all times. But for some reason I can drink more than daily required 8 liters of water and still feel like I haven’t had any yet.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” I mumbled as I grabbed the keys and make sure to lock up first.

This year was going to the year…things were going to change.

The three of us walked to the bus stop. There she was, the fourth member of our once quartet, now trio. Willow Williams, the lovely redhead who literally is the girl-next-door that was once my closest and best friend (even closer than Lydia or Derrick) until freshmen year when the incident happened and she never did forgive me for what happened.

“Hey Willow.”

“Hi Derrick. Hi Lydia.” Willow waves to them while avoiding looking my direction.

Sigh; at least she’s now only ignoring me and not everyone.

The bus arrives, Layla make sure to sit next to someone in order to avoid sharing space with me. Joy, this definitely going to be an interesting year XP

In case, it escapes your notice as it usually does me, the school bus is secretly a hard-velocity rocket-jet disguised as yellow school bus. The first time you ride on it, it’s almost a guarantee that you lose your breakfast. It’s a great way to know whose the new kid.

The school’s location is a secret only a handful of people knows the exact location. Even the kids with flight powers aren’t allowed to know, so basically the whole student body can only get on and off campus by bus.

Getting off the bus, Willow immediately walks out of the bus and vanishes into the crowd. Nothing new, but I was hoping…

“ARMSTRONG!”

I turn to the direct of the shout, standing about ten feet away from me; six-two broad shoulders with a strong razor cheekbones clad menacingly in a leather jacket and denim black jeans, Warwick Walkingstick. Otherwise known as the school bad boy, the son of a superhero and supervillian (the supervillian being Vance Lord Black now serving five life sentences with no possibility of parole until his third life all thanks to my father Mr. Amazing putting a stop to his plans of world domination almost a decade ago), and most of all….

He takes a few deliberate steps closer, closing the gap between us.

Smooch

He plants a surprisingly soft sweet kiss on my lips, “Hey, baby.”

“I missed you,” I say blushing.

Oh yeah, Warwick Walkingstick, school bad boy, son of a superhero and supervillian, and most of all the love of my life.

Things are definitely going to be good this year.

-TBC

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Thank you for bearing with me this chapter. I know it was really long and dry but I wanted to introduce the characters.

I know that it gets confusing but bare with me there is logic to my madness.

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