School continued apace, and I got back on physical improvements. The trick was to change the workouts themselves, since basic push-ups, sit-ups, and squats weren't cutting it anymore. Burpees replaced push-ups, planks replaced sit-ups, and I added weight to the squats. I got a treadmill, set it for max incline for the run, as well as adding weight there as well, everything I could do. I realized how much I was actually doing when my dad walked in on me one time, I was doing handstand push-ups, reading a book on introductory economics, and listening to my Spanish lessons on my earbuds. I can't help but think this was actually a weirder situation than anything else he could've walked in on me doing . Darryl found a parkour place downtown, and both they and the downtown rock gym were willing to forego membership fees for some ad-time on social media, so apparently, we'll be heading toward Spider-Man training now.

Fred was already giving a bunch of returns on investment. For one, the first thing he'd bought after I gave him his 'recruitment bonus', was to get a used car, an old Subaru Baja, forest green. I mean, it'd seen better days, but he showed up to get me for school, and had McDonald's with him when he did. I sat in the backseat, mostly cause I needed to work, and I didn't want to distract him while he was driving. I needed a workspace. Getting practical work done at the house was a problem, two sisters, Mom, and Dad made it difficult to really concentrate. I'd already converted the shed out back for the podcast, but I needed more space. I needed a map of Portland, a big table for it, white boards. I also needed more money. Yes, I was making frankly embarrassing amounts of money from my online work, but the fact remained that whatever the solution to all this was, money was a key factor, and it could all go away before I even got close.

I need passive income, income that comes in regularly, that doesn't require my effort to maintain it. There were ways to do it, but they were mostly for adults, not a fourteen year old. I considered Fred for a moment. Hm... I needed more employees, so I need a finance guy. Not terrible, and Dad had mentioned I needed someone to manage my money. I'd wanted to learn how to do it myself, but for now, I wasn't there, and with everything else my schedule was getting tight. So I need, finance, and I need marketing... I need to talk to Dad. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need to incorporate. Not precisely sure what's involved in that, but the faster I got to it, the better. I dropped a quick text to Dad that I needed to talk with him after work, and Fred told me all about his new apartment, and how he'd heard from his sister for the first time in six years.

At school, things were still busy, although, being frank, it was mostly getting more boring. To relieve boredom, I started analyzing my teachers, how they taught, how they did or did not keep our attention. I started doodling... or, I thought it was doodling, until I realized that it was actually Aimee I was drawing. She was constantly there in my head, and no, practices with her were not going terribly better. The 1% was fighting me, cause despite knowing I needed to focus, to help her and the team get better, my brain just kept derailing into every feature of her. I tried speaking, but it came out as drivel, I lost sentences mid-thought. God Damn, get a grip man! It's not happening, she's just out of your league. Now, come on!

Socializing in school was... interesting. Several groups formed within the student body, the most prolific being that of the Hangers On. People who had never talked to me, or worse, a number of the people who'd spent their lives tearing me down one way or another were now talking about how they knew I had it in me. Yeah, sure, Kyle knew I'd have superpowers one day, that's totally why he'd kept taking my lunch money. Then there were the ones who were scared of me, like I might suddenly Hulk out at any moment. Those ones really concerned me, I mean, I don't want people to be afraid of me.That sort of steadily took care of it however, after I went head first into a locker door cause Aimee. Kinda difficult to be afraid of someone who keeps nearly concussing himself.

The third group were convinced I was just doing all this for clout, the typical stuff you expect from that part of the YouTube comments section. The final group was worrying, though, because they seemed to be taking my status personally. Not just the money, but pretty much the entire aspect of my having powers, pretty much every aspect of my existence now offended them greatly. And it wasn't some sort of skin deep dislike. It was a problem, but I had no idea what to do about it. Unfortunately, it was about to become a problem I had to face.

Brad Warner... he's been a pretty consistent bully for me, Darryl, and a few other kids for years. Apparently, he wanted some real cred for his freshman year. I was waiting around for my ride after classes let out, which was off school property, when him and his two buddies came up to me. It was... a pretty standard routine really, always the same two guys, with the same approach: Make it seem like he 'just wanted to hang', then eventually when he was sure no one was watching that could get him in trouble, his backup group, Tim and Rob, grab a hold, and he takes out his frustrations with life.

Today, I just... wasn't feeling it. I mean, I'd pretty much written the whole thing off previously, since it was less hassle, but I had stuff to do. As he came up, plastered on smile wide, I sighed, "My brother in Christ, can we just... not?"

He was still all smiles, and his buddies chuckled as he responded, "What? I haven't seen you all summer. I just wanna chat, hang out."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, "Seriously? You've been using that line since sixth grade. Then you drag it out, and then you have your backup dancers do the heavy lifting, and you take a few swings. Can we just take it as stipulated? I got my first Scout meeting of the year."

The facade cracked a little. Generally speaking, I'd never broken the routine before, and now, he had to go off-script, "I don't think I like your attitude."

Shrugging, I dropped my jacket off. No sense messing it up, I really liked the jacket, and I passed it off to Darryl, who was running up as the crowd began to gather, "Darryl, hold this. No video."

I stepped forward toward Brad, who seemed to expect an attack, but really, I just trying to get close enough to talk more quietly, "Brad, this isn't happening, not the way you want. I get it-" I dropped my voice even lower, leaning in, "I know about your dad. You don't-"

Mistake. He swung, and I barely dodged back. Sparring with Mackenzie was a wonderful teacher of Miyagi's admonition, "Best way to stop punch is not be there when it arrives."

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Brad kept swinging, and at first, I just dodged, then blocked once I had his timing down, "You don't have to do this."

"The fuck do you know?!" Jesus, he was just all haymakers. I didn't even really need the powers for this.

I kept blocking, being certain to lead the fight so the Tim and Rob stay on the same side as Brad, and kept my voice low, "About... getting bullied?.... About having someone... take their rage out on me... for things I never did?... Gee, no idea!"

He shook now, he was throwing everything into it, but he wasn't a trained fighter. Greater anger does NOT improve aim. If he would just throw a jab, a feint, try to draw out an attack from me, he'd probably get somewhere with this. I knew how to deal with this, just keep defending, and just like Mackenzie, he would tire out. I didn't have to swing back, I just had to maintain.

Internally, I could see every open spot, every weak point, I knew how to take him down. Truthfully, I could've won these fights a long time ago, but I just... I don't want to hurt him. Now that I think about it, though, that probably made it worse. He'd probably never realize 'til later in life, but he was trying to confirm that this was just how the world worked, and I kept refusing to oblige him. Ah, crap.

The minions had decided to step in. Tim rushed me, going for a straight tackle. Before I might have tried to block, or take stance, but sparring and classes came together. I stepped forward, letting a hit from Brad catch me in the shoulder, and spun, grabbing Tim as he charged, and politely escorted him into Rob, who froze in place at the sudden change, "Sorry guys, A and B conversation. C your way out of it."

Brad hesitated a moment, and I seized it, "We don't gotta do this, man. Just... stop."

He was breathing heavily while Tim and Rob worked their way to their feet. He didn't respond, but I looked to the wonder twins, "Guys, just... no. Just walk away."

Bullies aren't highly heroic. They're not doing this for an even fight, or anything approaching it. It's dominance they're after, which is why they pick people like me, that they know won't fight back or can't fight back. I made a shooing motion at them, and they decided that was the cue to leave. I wasn't prey anymore.

Before, I'd made the excuse that I was a pacifist, but what was that quote that made the rounds a couple of years ago? "If you don't have the capability or willingness to fight, then you're not a pacifist. You're harmless."

My powers meant I could never never shut off the learning in my head, and some of that was self-awareness. I looked around, and God, it was all just a waste, "Man, I'm hungry. Wanna get Hot Lips? I'll buy."

That was the end of the fight. Brad nodded, saying nothing, and we fucked off to a pizza place, while I texted Fred that I wouldn't need a pick up. He let me know he'd compiled a list of shelters and food banks around the city, and we ordered pizza. We crashed into a couple seats outside with our food, and for a while, said nothing to each other, just putting away food. It was Brad who finally broke the silence, "So, like, what's it like having powers?"

"What's it like not having powers? I don't know, sometimes it's great, sometimes I wish I'd never gotten them. Like, every time I look at things, I see all the ways they're being done wrong, all the ways everything's failing, but what do you even do about it? Before, I barely paid attention to it, but now... it's always there. Like, okay, Ms. Wilson's obsession with the ex-Patriate novels, like Old Man and the Sea. Written by a bunch of guys who made a ton of money, fucked off to Europe, and wrote all these novels that amount to saying 'don't bother trying to make your life better. It won't work, and even if it does, you'll just be worse off than if you never bothered in the first place'. Why the fuck would you want kids reading these things?

"Would anyone listen to me? Nope, I'm fourteen, so unless I give some asinine lecture on it, removing all possibility of argument, anything I say gets written off," I was gesturing wildly with my soda as I talked.

Brad laughed genuinely, "Oh you gotta tell her that!"

I chuckled to myself, "Hell no, she loves those books. It'd be like ruining Star Wars for a diehard fanboy."

We talked about a bunch of stuff from there, but honestly, it was all idiotic crap... and it was wonderful. So much of my conversations these days were all about my powers, especially with Darryl. Having an idiotic chat about MC streamers and who the hottest girls in class were was a blessed relief (I kept Aimee's name out of it, cause I didn't trust myself with it). When we finished, I ordered an Uber to get Brad and me home. When we got to Brad's place, I asked the driver to wait for me, and hopped out, following up to Brad's apartment. It was a decent enough apartment, but I was armed with knowledge now, and they were likely overpaying for it.

As we approached, his dad stepped out from the stairwell, "Hey! What're you doin' gettin' home late? I said 4."

Brad tensed, and I stepped in front of him, "My fault, sir. I was catching up with him after school."

The man stepped forward, and I could smell the alcohol. Fuck. "You stay outta this if you know what's good for you."

I continued walking forward, talking as I came up to him, "I don't mean any disrespect, Mr. Warner. I just didn't want Brad getting in trouble for something I did-"

I punched as soon as I was in range, my fist connected squarely just below the rib cage, and put my whole body behind it. It was really just Brad's strategy, and it worked as long as you didn't constantly use it for three years. His whole body seemed to ripple from the hit, and I stepped back just before he went to his knees and vomitted, "Brad, go inside."

It was an order, and Brad hesitated a moment before complying. Brad, I did not want to hurt. This MFer, though... oh yeah. I knelt next to him, as he kept trying to breathe, "You have one hour. Go to the nearest cop shop, and confess everything you've done to him, to your wife, to anyone. You don't post bail, you don't plead not guilty."

He struggled up to his feet, looking like he was ready to fight, "And what're yo-"

I hit him again, this time in the kidney, "I beat you into a coma, and make sure you never move your arms or legs again. You offend me."

He was down again from the hit, and this time, fell onto his side. I stood tall over him, "You and my dad, you're both called dads. It offends me that you're even called father, that the two of you can be mentioned in the same breath."

I didn't raise my voice, I was the calmest I'd felt since I'd gotten my powers, and I saw the terror in his eyes from it. Anger being expressed in rage, being expressed through screaming and yelling could be a bit intimidating. Expressed through cold, quiet conversation, it forced him to understand I was serious, "Get the fuck gone. Don't call, don't write, don't text, and if you set one foot near any of them again, I'll know, and there is nothing in this world that saves you from me."

He got to his feet again, and struggled walking away, while my Uber driver just stared, "I'll be along in a minute. Just gotta finish something up real quick."

I went up to the apartment I'd seen Brad duck into, and knocked. Brad yanked open the door, fear in his eyes, "It's over. If he shows back up, text me immediately. I can be here in ten minutes or less from anywhere in Portland."

I gave Brad my contact info, and my dad's for his mom. Incorporating would need more employees, and I could make sure she had enough to afford her apartment, without it being viewed as charity. I got back to the Uber, and on the side where I was out of sight of the apartment, promptly threw up. I hated how good it felt when I'd hit him.