Jericho entered the coffee shop and scouted the area looking for Tristen. He made eye contact with a few strangers, but there was no sign of her. He approached the long line, looked at the menu for something to order, and he opted to buy a hot chocolate.
The coffee effects have benefited him, but he decided to go cold turkey while he was still ahead. Drinking two cups of coffee was not viable, especially when the effects were no longer as strong. He practiced today without drinking coffee and he produced similar results.
The coffee also began to ruin his sleep schedule that he was so fond of. Once he recovered fully he thought about limiting himself to a cup every other day, but that would not happen for a while.
“Jericho?” The girl behind the counter handed him his hot chocolate.
He left a tip and looked for a place to sit. The table he sat at the day before was occupied, but luckily a table for two was free. Nobody else approached the table, but he fast-walked just to be sure. He wondered if the spot would be enough for Tristen’s laptop, but he supposed she would manage. There were no other free tables except for those in larger groups.
Jericho blew on his hot chocolate hoping to cool it off, but a mist continued to billow from the cup. If he drank it now he would only burn his tongue.
Wait. He thought. I can heal that.
He looked around to see if anyone was watching. The coffee shop was filled like it usually was at this time; not packed but close to it. People sifted in and out, and nobody would bat an eye if he burnt his tongue, nonetheless heal it.
His tongue immediately singed upon contact with the hot liquid. It burned more than usual. This was not the type of sip he would make if he did not have abilities. His powers gave him a false sense of security, and he reaffirmed immediately that he was still prone to injury and pain. It was best for him to not normalize this reckless behavior.
He placed his index finger near his lips as if he were to bite his nails. What should have taken a week to regenerate only required seconds. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and smiled gladly to himself.
Jericho held the hot chocolate in his right hand. His fingers drummed at the sides as he waited for Tristen. It would have been nice if he got her number yesterday. She would have been able to contact him if she were running late or had to cancel for some reason. She was a student after all. Also, she could have a job he did not know of. He understood how strict some people’s schedules were. Then a strong, unsettling thought crept into his brain: what if she was not going to show up at all simply because she decided not to? Was he getting stood up?
No, that’s stupid. We had a good conversation yesterday. He thought. The other side of his brain responded. Then why did she run out abruptly? Why didn’t she take the extra twenty seconds to get your number? Just because you had a good conversation doesn’t mean she likes you.
Jericho’s thoughts rushed and piled in going from one tangent to the next.
We’re just talking. What does her liking me have to do with anything? I like her as a person, but I’d rather be friends with her. People are genuinely nice, so she’ll show up. But she could be one of the mean ones. What if she was just talking to me to pass the time? But if she does show up there’s still a possibility that she’s using me to pass the time.
“Hey, Jericho. Sorry for being a little late,” Tristen said. She placed her bag on the seat across from Jericho.
“I don’t mind,” Jericho said. The thoughts lessened but continued to swirl in his head despite her showing up. “I’ve been chilling.”
She ran her fingers through her hair and roughed it up lightly. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
She came back with two toasted bagels and an iced coffee. She placed her food down, then situated her laptop and notebook.
She said, “You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t in school. Were you?”
“I was telling the truth about that.”
She took a bite of her bagel. “I was betting on you lying about that since I kind of wanted this to be like a study group. You know; like us focusing on our work, then talking in between. I procrastinate too easily.”
“Oh, I don’t mind just sitting here. I have some things I have to think about.” He pulled out his notebook from his drawstring bag.
“Whatcha working on?” She asked.
Jericho was not sure about how much information he would share. He did not want to seem like a bummer, but he also wanted to keep some things to himself.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
He wanted to plan out ways to streamline his ability, hence why he brought the notebook. But now he thought about the implications of him having an ability and neither going to school nor enlisting in the army. He was required by law to do one or the other. He had a pass because he was considered worthless by both organizations, but now that he had an ability the situation changed. In cursive lettering, he wrote down the thought on an empty page.
“Oh, just brainstorming some ideas,” he said. “How’s your essay going? Have you figured out what you want to write about?”
She said, “Yes, I have! I’ve been reworking my essay since last night. I think a world without healers would be problematic.”
“Healers? Why them? Weren’t you worried about your TA getting bored and tired of having to read something like that? Sure, healing is rare, but I think most students would write about it too.”
She said, “Screw the TA. It’s easier to write about things that interest me. I only said that because I was bored with what I was writing about. You inspired me to write about healers actually.”
“How can you be so sure that I wasn’t lying yesterday?” Jericho asked, but he knew it was pointless. She knew his ability, so pretending any longer would just make it all the more obvious.
She smiled. “Because of my ability. I don’t want to get into the specifics in here, but I can sense things.”
Sense things? He wanted to ask about it, but he changed the topic. “What do you have so far in your essay? What’s a world like without healers?”
“Dismal,” she said. “Humanity should have been wiped out many times. 1911, 1953, and 1974 are years that uncontrollable plagues threatened us, but luckily we had healers. They kept the diseases at bay, and we continued living on. There were many similar events before that, but I can’t imagine how many times in early and predated history that we were saved. We don’t think much about how the world could have ended numerous times. Which got me thinking about how far back our abilities go. It’s so normalized to have an ability, but what if everyone didn’t? Did humans always have abilities, or did something happen along the way? If a common class like strength ceases to exist, then—“
Her eyes met with Jericho who listened closely.
She said, “Sorry, I was rambling. I find things like this interesting. I spent more time on research dives than doing my essay honestly.”
“Go on,” he said. “I find it interesting too.”
“Honestly, the essay prompt should have been about the exclusion of two classes. Healing and strength and the progression of the human race are heavily related. Having incredible strength made us the apex predators. We dominate the lands, the sky, and oceans from our strength alone. Predators in the ocean fear powerful swimmers. Birds in the sky fear thrown projectiles. The ones on land fear our brute strength and speed. But with that strength came a deficient byproduct. We didn’t need to be smart to survive, and we’re stunted in some scientific regard. That’s where our non-strength classes come into play. They needed to figure out ways to survive themselves, and so they offered their brains and unique abilities to advance entire nations. Humans have always fought, but they fought a lot more way back then.
“This actually helps me a lot. I understand this assignment now,” she said. “Sorry if I go quiet. I have to write this all down before I forget.”
Tristen continued her essay, while Jericho thought about what she said. He would try to find a documentary about early humans when he got home.
Jericho flipped through his notebook. He stabbed his pen on the upper right-hand corner of the notebook as he thought about the secrecy of his ability. He doubted the government would send agents rushing in to arrest him if they did find out; he had a healing ability after all. Healers were rare so that provided him some leverage, but technically he was breaking a law.
He wondered what his mother would say, then an army recruiter, and finally, someone who was actually in the army. His mother would tell him not to worry about it, he only obtained his ability, and that he would get a pass. An army recruiter would tell him that it was not a problem, but then goad him to join. He was not sure what a high-ranking military person would tell him.
Joining the army was not his only route, and Jericho thought about going to university. All prospects of going to school left him when he was rejected the first time around, and at this point, he wondered why he even bothered with applying to schools. He had nothing he was passionate about nor was interested in. It would be a waste of time and money, but something told him that he was not the army type either.
Going to school would cost him money, while he would make some pay in the army. In school, he would learn about things he did not care about, while in the army he would train to fight in wars and battles putting his life on the line.
Joining a medical profession would promote the growth of his ability and bring him new opportunities, but it was a difficult task. Studying for hours was not something he wanted to do, and why waste hours on that when he could spend time perfecting his abilities? He doubted he needed to be a medical expert; his powers would do most of the work for him.
He smirked at the thought of doing both.
Jericho looked at the notes he wrote down. The empty page was nearly filled now. He wrote one final comment: What if I demonstrate my abilities are special enough to be given a pass? It’s happened before.
He looked up to see how Tristen was doing on her essay. She smiled, and he smiled back. Over time, they made idle conversation as Tristen wrapped up her essay and as Jericho considered his options.
Tristen took the last bite of her first bagel. She grabbed the other bagel and lifted it as if she were offering it to Jericho. In smooth movements, her eyes went from her laptop, to her notebook, to her bagel, then to Jericho repeatedly.
“I don’t want it unless you do,” he said.
“Kinda do, kinda don’t,” she said. “Are you down to split it?”
Jericho nodded. He took a bite of the plain bagel; it had cream cheese.
“I think I’m done with my essay,” she said as she shut her laptop. “I don’t have any other schoolwork to do, so I think I’m going to call it a day. I’m beat.”
“Can I get your number?” Jericho asked before he would forget.
“Sure,” she said. She handed him her phone with the new contact page open. He typed in his number as she packed her things.
“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” She thought about it. “I would have been available, but something came up. I’m also busy next week since I have a couple exams.”
Jericho waited eagerly for her response.
“How about next weekend?”
“Works for me.”
“Cool. I’ll text you later and we can set something up.”