Kate charges at me like a runaway train, her metal body slamming into me with the force of a wrecking ball. I feel my ribs creak under the impact, the air rushing out of my lungs as she grabs me like a windshield scooping up an insect. I have no recourse but to simply move with the motion and prepare myself for the incoming impact.

"You have no idea what it's like, do you, Sam?" Kate snarls, her voice thick with emotion. "To always be in your shadow, to always be second best."

I try to push her off, but it's like trying to move a mountain. She must weigh 500, maybe 550 pounds now with her new skin. "Kate, please, let's just talk about this-"

But she's not listening. She squeezes me hard like she's preparing to hug me to death. "You think you're so special, don't you? Perfect little Samantha Small, with her perfect family and her perfect powers."

I yelp as she picks up speed and then WHAM, my body slams into the basketball pole with a sickening thud. I feel something crack in my shoulder, a white-hot bolt of pain lancing through me as the metal dents under the force of the impact. She lets go and I feel my body preparing to collapse under the strain.

"You don't know what it's like to have a father who works himself to the bone just to keep the lights on," Kate continues, her voice breaking. "To watch him come home every night, broken and beaten down, while your parents sit in their cozy offices and collect their fat paychecks. Do you think I can even consider the idea of college? What a pipe dream."

My vision swims as she lets me slump to the ground, taking two steps back before bending down to meet me. I blink, trying to clear the fog from my brain, as her iron feet rise into view from my lowering head.

"I give up," I rasp, holding up my hands in surrender. "Kate, please, I'm sorry-"

But she's not done. With a snarl of rage, she grabs me by the hair and hoists me up, forcing me to look her in the eye. "Say it to my face, Sam. Say you're sorry for abandoning me, for leaving me behind while you went off to your fancy charter school and your fancy new life with your fancy superhero friends."

I can feel the tears streaming down my face, mixing with the blood and sweat. "I never meant to hurt you, Kate. I never wanted to leave you behind. And I surrender."

"Good," she says, letting go of my hair.

I jerk forward, cracking my skull against Kate's with all the force I can muster. I feel something sharp pierce my forehead, a single tooth protruding like a horn, before it shatters against her metal skin.

We stagger apart, our heads ringing from the impact. Kate's forehead is dented, a small crater where my tooth struck, while I can feel the hole in my own head slowly stitching itself back together.

"You were my best friend, Sam," Kate says, her voice barely above a whisper as she stumbles, clearly reeling from the blow. "My only friend, sometimes. But then you got your powers, and suddenly I wasn't good enough anymore."

We circle each other warily, gunslingers at twilight now, barely able to see each other even with the gnat-attracting streetlights overhead casting everything in sharp contrast.

"Remember when we were in first grade, and you won that stupid spelling bee? You wouldn't shut up about it for weeks, rubbing it in my face every chance you got." Kate hisses, preparing to unload every small grievance she's ever had, every moment where she felt overshadowed or overlooked.

I wince at the memory, shame and regret washing over me. "Kate, I was six. I didn't know any better."

"But that's the thing, Sam. You never did. You always had to be the best, the brightest, the most special. And I was just your dumb friend, your poor friend, your friend with no mom. Well, I've HAD IT!"

We exchange a flurry of blows, our fists meeting in a rapid-fire succession of jabs and hooks. I can feel the impact of each punch, the way it rattles my bones and sets my teeth on edge. My teeth catch on her clothes, ripping the sleeves loose, and our forearms each put in the work blocking each other's hammer strikes.

But even in the heat of battle, I can't help but notice the way Kate moves, the precision and grace behind each strike. Her form is perfect, honed by months, maybe even years of training and discipline, while mine is sloppy and unrefined from months in the hospital. I almost want to ask where she's been spending time training, but clearly this isn't the time.

I try to block, to parry, but she's too fast, too strong. Her metal fists slam into me again and again, each blow driving me further back, closer to the edge of the court, back into the dented basketball pole.

In a last, desperate attempt to escape, I begin to scoot backwards, hoping to put some distance between us. But Kate is too smart for that. Like a charging bull, she lowers her head and barrels towards me, ready to shoulder ram me into oblivion.

As she closes in, I act on well-honed sparring instinct, working through months of disuse. I shoot forward, my arms wrapping around her neck in a front headlock. It's a move Rampart taught me, a way to subdue an opponent quickly and efficiently.

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Kate grunts in surprise, trying to shake me off, but I tighten my grip, pouring all of my strength into the hold. We stumble around the court, a tangle of limbs and fury, as I dig my fingers into her lips and plug her nose with my thumb.

"I'm sorry, Kate," I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything. For not being there, for not seeing how much you were hurting."

She thrashes in my grip, her metal skin scraping against my arms, but I don't let go. I can't. Not until she understands, not until she sees how much she means to me.

"I never wanted to leave you behind, Kate. I never wanted to make you feel like you weren't good enough. Because you are. You're stronger than I ever could be, in so many ways."

I can feel her struggles growing weaker, her energy draining with each passing second. But still, she doesn't stop. It's the primary lesson of fighting invulnerable people - most people with superpowers still need to breathe. She squeals and moans and cries out, and I keep my vicegrip on her neck and mouth, trying to suffocate her so I can wake her up in five minutes and we can talk about this like rational people.

But she knows better. Her arms find purchase on the inside of my elbows, and she breaks out of the headlock by slamming the top of her head into my gut like a spear. Even still, she pours out her anguish, her pain, in a torrent of words and tears.

"You were my hero, Sam. My idol. I wanted to be just like you, in every way. But then you got your powers, and suddenly I was just a normal girl. A nobody. A civilian. What do I get to make of my life? I'll inherit all of my dad's ten dollars and maybe join the military so I don't starve. And you get to become a cop," she wheezes, gasping for air. Her tears form lime-green streaks across her face, down her neck. "I wish I could live in your skin for just one day. To follow you wherever you go. But you won't even let me have that."

I wipe blood and spit off from my mouth. I spit out a jagged, sharp tooth. "There's help for people who live like you, Kate. I'd help you, if you gave me the fucking opportunity."

"I don't want your pity!" she spits. "Or your welfare. I don't need your help. I don't need your handouts. I just need you to not leave me behind!"

Her breaths sound like they're being ran through a cheese grater. The dents in her face show no sign of un-denting anytime soon, and I can only hope that they'll fix themselves when the Jump wears off. And that she'll fix herself when the Jump wears off.

But I know when there's no more that words can do. I crack my knuckles. "I'm here. Come take me."

We both meet the ground running, my ankles creaking uncomfortably with all the bad rolls I've taken, hers sounding like gongs, heavy stompers leaving small indents on the hard rubber ground. She's a freight train? I'm a tyrannosaur. I'll bite her in half Jurassic Park style. We roar, and our voices mix like oil and water.

We swing with mirrored arms - my right, her left. Our knuckles collide in perfect synchronicity with each other's cheeks, fists scraping forearms. I feel my jaw cracking under the strain, while I barely manage to leave a mark in her perfect skin.

Our fists just sit there, for a second, and then another.

Pain reverberates through me like noise through a bell. My used-up hand slides off her cheek, and my body gives out, no longer capable of withstanding any further abuse.

Kate's moment of triumph is short lived - too short for her to gloat about it. Hissing and wheezing with exhaustion, she sits down in front of me, grabs my hair, and pulls my head up for one final venomous sentence.

We make eye contact. Her huge, round pupils swallowed up in a sea of quicksilver.

I spit out teeth and blood, and instead of saying anything, she just lets go of my hair, and lets me drop to the ground.

"You win. I'll hang up my costume," she mumbles, standing back up to her feet. She makes it one step, then two steps, then three, before pitching forward and collapsing in a heap on the ground. "Fuck,"

----------------------------------------

It's late August, and the air is thick and sticky outside. But inside it's cool and it feels nice.

I sit on my assigned mat, fidgeting with the hem of my sundress. It's naptime, but I'm not tired. I'm too excited, too curious about all the new faces around me.

Across the room, a girl with really bright light blonde hair and bright green eyes sits on her own mat, hugging her knees to her chest. She hasn't talked to anyone all day, not even during snack time or recess.

I tilt my head, studying her. She looks nice, I think. Maybe a little shy, but nice.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I stand up and make my way over to her, plopping down on the mat beside her.

"Hi," I say, giving her my biggest, friendliest smile. "I'm Samantha, but you can call me Sam. What's your name?"

The girl looks up at me, her green eyes wide and surprised. "I'm Kate," she says, her voice soft and hesitant.

"Kate," I repeat, testing the name out on my tongue. "I like that name. It's pretty."

She smiles at that, a small, shy thing that lights up her whole face. "Thanks. I like your name too."

We sit there for a moment, just smiling at each other, and then I blurt out the same question I've asked all the other kids my age. And the teachers.

"Do you like sports?"

Kate's eyes widen, and then she nods, a grin spreading across her face. "Yeah, I love sports. My dad and I watch basketball all the time."

"Really?" I ask, bouncing in my seat. "Who's your favorite player?"

"Allen Iverson," she says, without hesitation. "My dad says he's the only Sixers player worth a darn. But he hasn't played in a while. So that's bad."

I wrinkle my nose, thinking. "I don't know much about basketball. I like soccer better. My favorite player is Ronaldo Jimenez."

Kate shakes her head, her curls bouncing. "I don't like soccer. It's boring."

For a moment, I feel a pang of disappointment. But then I shrug, smiling at her again. "That's okay. We don't have to like the same things."

She looks at me, surprise flickering in her green eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah," I say, nodding. "We can still be friends, even if we like different sports."

Kate's smile is brighter this time, more realer. "Are we friends now?"

I hold out my hand to her, my heart swelling with happiness. This must be what the Grinch felt like. "Do you wanna be?"

She takes my hand, her skin warm and soft against mine. "Friends forever!"

The teacher looks at us, and I see her raising her hand. I think she's getting ready to shush us. But I lock eyes with her, and she smiles, and she brings her hand up slower to put her finger over her lips.

So she's shushing us but not very hard. That's okay, I can be quiet.

"Friends forever," I whisper.

End of Arc 5: Mayfly

END OF YEAR ONE