Aimee and I talked via text, which went a bit better since I didn't have to look her in her eyes. It was mostly talking back and forth about stuff at school (Like with Dad, I edited around what happened with Brad), and I talked about Scouts. Aimee was super-excited I got named SPL, but didn't actually know what the position did, and she offered for her and her friends to help with some of the service projects. It sort of ended on a weird note, with her saying good night, then right before she signed off, she wrote, "What would you do if I kiss you right now?"

And boom, logged out. I just sat there staring at the screen, frozen, 'til I realized she was just playing. Like, ha ha, totally had you there. I shut down for the night, and got some sleep. The next day, Darryl informed me the Troop site was ready to go live. Yeah, no possible way he coded a website between the end of the meeting and this morning, so clearly, he'd already built it, most likely during the summer. He just needed the official sanction. Our prior Scoutmaster hadn't been all that good, and he was really only in it for his own kid, so they dipped as soon as his son hit Eagle. It sucked, but there was nothing to be done about that equation except to change what we did now.

I had Fred swing me by and pick up Brad, sharing breakfast with him, and just talking. His dad was in custody, and with some priors, he was looking at actual jail time. They would have someone from CPS coming by. I made sure to remind him to have his mom call my dad, to make sure she had a job that could see them through. We were just finishing as I got to school, and I could see some hurt in Darryl's eyes when he saw Brad get out of the Baja with me. Brad pretty much ditched me immediately, and I caught up with Darryl, "Dude, it's not what you think. Things went down last night, and... it's not my thing to tell, just like your stuff."

He idly kicked at non-existent rocks, "I guess."

I put my hands on his shoulders and made him look me in the eyes, "You are my best friend. Powers don't change that, other people don't change it. Now come on, take me on a tour of the site."

He perked up and brought up the site. He's insane. So this site has not only a troop calendar, and the usual trappings you expect, but pdfs for every merit badge book, complete with links to instructional videos, online sign-up sheets for things like the upcoming Camporee, an online payment structure for dues and whatnot, and even links for the troop's social media, and he even set up a Discord server for the Troop, complete with roles, separate voice and text chats, an announcements page, the whole nine. And he wasn't done, "So, I was thinking."

"What?"

He shuffled like he was thinking it over, but powers or no, he'd done this constantly, playing like an idea was off-the-cuff, when really, he'd already fully thought it through, "Okay, so I know you want Eagle, but hear me out here. What if you went past that? I mean, the history of our troop is pretty bad about kids ghosting us as soon as they get pinned. So what if you did the opposite? Get every badge, every award. I mean, why not do it? You've got four years, and Philmont already takes care of the 50-miler award."

Every badge... it would be an insane consideration. There were more than a hundred merit badges, and the side awards were especially difficult, it wasn't just a matter of 'do the thing', so the chances that you could do it all was so remote as to not bother considering. Unless... I could do it, I could learn it all, and I mean, a lot of those badges had solid implications for me outside of Scouts, both for whatever future I pursued outside of my powers, and for my powers themselves. I grinned wolflishly, "Yeah, you know what? Let's do it."

I was snapped out of my conversation by my homeroom teacher, Mr. Evans calling to me, "Marcus, Mrs. Brown would like a word with you at the guidance office."

I nodded, grabbed my bag, and rolled out for the guidance office. When I got there, I had to wait a little bit, until she popped out her door, "Oh good, Mr. McKenna, come in."

There was a non-zero percent chance that Brad had blabbed about things, so it was best if I waited for her to speak first, and confirm what this was about. I sat down in the chair across from hers as she closed her office door, and she took a seat at her desk, "So, Mr. McKenna, I wanted to talk to you today about how you're adjusting this year."

Oh, totally different thing, "I mean, I won't say it hasn't been strange, and there's a lot of pressure, but I'd like to think that I'm handling it... pretty well."

She nodded solemnly, and adjusted her glasses before speaking again, "I can't imagine what you're going through right now, and I'm not going to try and pretend like I do, at least on the whole powers side of things, but you're still also a teenager, and that comes with its own unique pressures. I would, however, like to talk to you about the incident after school yesterday. Mr. Warner was in here this morning, quite upset and crying about what happened yesterday after school."

Nope, okay it's what I thought it was. Shit. Hopefully things wouldn't to be bad, "Sorry, but yesterday was pretty packed out for me. I mean, school, Scouts, it's all just kind of a blur of stuff."

Mrs. Brown gave me the Mom Eye. She knew this routine, and she knew I wouldn't give up any information I didn't absolutely have to. No kid did, not if they understood at all how this thing worked. I'd been through routines like this a lot over the years, where teachers and administrators would try to get me to snitch, and today was not the day I was going to go down a snitch. Screw that. The counter was, however, that the teachers and admins knew that too, so it was a kind of dance, to try and get information without me being willing to talk about anything directly. After a moment, she sighed, "Mr. Warner said that he started a fight with you, which I've obviously heard other children discussing in the halls this morning. You bought him pizza, and gave him a lift home, yes?"

That was almost the story, "I mean, yeah, but I didn't see it as any big thing. I was never gonna hurt him, and he can't hurt me."

Confirm only the story he already gave up. No one would have enough to put the last bit together, "And apparently, it had a lot to do with his home life. You were kind when you had every right to never show him any sort of compassion. That's rarer than you think, and you should be proud of yourself, but I can't help but feel like you need someone to talk to. I know the H.A.A. provides counseling, and I deeply believe that you should take them up on it. They know what powers are like, and they're offering the help for free. If you want someone outside the H.A.A., I have a list here of counselors that would be more than happy to talk with you confidentially."

The teenager in me immediately rejected the thought, but... God, it was all so much, and the self-awareness I'd been developing said it wasn't a bad idea to talk to someone, anyone really, but I didn't trust the H.A.A.. Yeah, free counseling was offered, but I'd had enough of the recruitment crap, and I knew they'd try. It was the same reason I didn't use their gym, or any of their other offerings. I needed them to back off, and they needed me to give in.

Mrs. Brown wasn't done yet, "I also wanted to talk to you about your classes. Your unique abilities have you easily acing your entire course load, even considering the extra-curriculars you're taking. Your teachers are universally agreed that you can do even more, that it's like you're just absorbing everything like a sponge.

"I want to try something. For one, with your permission, I want to move you up to honors courses, the best we have to offer. Second, I know it's your freshman year, but you might consider taking the SAT, find out how well you can do."

I didn't like the way this was going. Putting me in harder classes was the problem: I'd ace them too... but turning them down wasn't a great plan either. There was opportunity, but if I graduated early, if I stepped up in grade, it could be a problem. Fact was, assuming they just gave me the books, I could probably close out high school in a matter of months at worst.

The truth was, though, I was being pulled in so many directions, and without high school, I had no constraints on my days, I could fully try to max things out, and as I looked at Mrs. Brown, I saw it: She was trying to tell me that, without telling me that, somewhat because of her job, and somewhat because of my being a teenager. I slumped in the chair, "I can't hold onto it, can I?"

For the first time since I'd gotten my powers, I felt the tears welling up. Was this ability taking this away from me, too? Mrs. Brown came around the desk and sat in the other chair next to me, turning it to face me, "I know you're scared, but Marcus, this isn't about powers. There have been plenty of children, geniuses, who have hit the same problem as long as there's been schooling. You can keep slugging it out through four years of high school, but you can master every single aspect of this so easily, and there is so much more out there for you.

"This place? It's holding you back, and I know you don't want the academy, but really, I don't think it would get any harder there for you. Maybe at first, but it would be the same thing as here if I'm understanding your videos about your powers properly. Your mind is as unique as your heart, and you'd just be holding yourself back either way, and you're far too smart not to get that. You've convinced yourself this is 'normal', and you've gotten 1% better at telling yourself that."

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I cried a bit, and Mrs. Brown put a hand on my back, and I could sense her crying too, even as I cried into my own hands, balling up in the chair. She offered to call my mom for me, and I just nodded. She excused herself to get mom's contact info, and while she was gone, I made a decision. I texted Mom, short and to the point, "Mrs. Brown is gonna call about school stuff. Need time to process. Talk later."

I put my phone on Do Not Disturb, grabbed up my bag, and went to my locker. I cleared everything out, just stuffing it in my bag, and started walking out. I desperately wanted to be out of the school before... *BRING*. Fuck you, God, couldn't just give me this one?

Students emptied into the halls at the end of first period, and I was walking along with the mass of people. They would be heading for second period by now, but what did it matter?

"Marcus!"

I knew the voice. Fuck my life, "Hey Aimee."

She was right there, in every bit of her glory, "Hey, I'm uh... sorry, but I'm heading out."

Aimee pulled me over to the side of the hallway, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I just... I won't be going to school anymore. Sorry," God, I sound so stupid.

I turned to go, and she caught my arm, turning me around, and I was about to say something, when her mouth connected with mine. Had I stepped? No, if anything I'd gone at least a step back- And that's kind of when my brain shut off. I felt myself pull her closer, I just wanted to stay there forever, but teachers and hall monitors happen, and the crowd of onlookers didn't really help with concealing it. I didn't really say anything, I just nodded dumbly, and we both headed off.

Getting out of school wasn't really that difficult, I just walked like I was going to gym class, and then used the side door the maintenance guys were always using. I needed to get clear, but I could feel that kiss, my ability playing it over and over again as I walked off the property via fence-hopping. From there, I hopped Tri-Met, and threw in my earbuds.

I could've called Fred, or let Mom come get me, hell, gone to the H.A.A., but I needed time alone. It was all too much right now, and the last possible thing I wanted right now was other people. Well, not entirely true, I really wanted to go back to kissing Aimee. I mean, God. So yeah, guess that question wasn't as facetious as I thought.

But making out not being a real option right now, I opted for getting away from everyone. It really wasn't that difficult to do in Portland. A series of bike and walking trails actually formed a circuit around the city, so it was really just a matter of getting to the right spot, and you could cross the whole city on foot. I could run it, but it wasn't really a running kind of mood. Instead, I pulled on my BSA cap, flipped up my hood, and threw my Spotify on a random playlist.

Crimson was right, as it turns out. My powers took away every accomplishment, nothing I achieved was really mine anymore, not even Aimee. I was taller, more built, and a celebrity thanks to the powers. Scouts, school, most of my video games, even my relationships. Aside from "Watch movies, shows, and play Minecraft" what did I even have left of me? I'd been avoiding the problem forever it felt like, and now the whole house of cards was crashing down. I wasn't even a month into this thing, and I didn't have any idea who I was anymore.

I'm not exactly sure when I made it back to the house, but Mom tried to offer me some food, but I told her I wasn't hungry, and went up to my room. I pretty much just stayed there, staring at my ceiling, listening to my music, until Mackenzie busted into my room, "GET UP, bitch! We got sparring to do."

I darted up just in time to nearly take a quarterstaff to the head, and Mackenzie had a devil grin, "We're starting on weapons tonight!"

She was holding her own quarterstaff, and when I tried to hedge, she raised both eyebrows, "It's like this: We can spar out front, or I can swing at you in the bed, but either way, you're getting a staff swung at you."

Being rather thoroughly press-ganged, I ended up out front, halfheartedly holding up my quarterstaff in front of me, as Mackenzie limbered up. I didn't really want to do this, but arguing with Mackenzie just wasn't worth the effort involved. I put my mouthguard in, and got ready. It essentially followed the familiar pattern: At first, I was having trouble keeping up, but continually, I was getting more on point. I stuck to defense, and I thought I was doing alright, but Mackenzie stopped, an aggravated look on her face, "Fuck's sake, dude. What is up with you today? Is it about school? Congratulations, the hot girl in your class kissed you. Get your head in the game!"

I took out my own guard, "NO, it's not! You wouldn't get it."

"What then?! The thing with that Brad kid? What?! What is so bad that you can't concentrate at all?"

She kept pestering with the questions, and I snapped, "It's EVERYTHING! Don't you get it?! I've got nothing! Not even school now."

Mackenzie blinked, and took stock a second before responding, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"These fucking abilities. I can't take any pride in this staff, cause yeah, it's only because of the 1%. My grades? Oh look, that's the 1%. My money? 1%! Scouts, art, games, coding, fuck, even Aimee, it's all the 1%'s, not mine," I was gesturing sort of wildly with the staff as I yelled.

Mackenzie swung, connecting hard with the staff, "You are an idiot! It's not your powers, dumbass!"

I felt the anger well up, and I swung back, and now we were more or less fighting for real, "The hell do you know about it?!"

She came back, just as aggressively, both with the staff, and the words, "Your powers don't read to Merida every night. Your powers don't make you come up with voices for the characters! OR make you sound excited to be doing it, even though you've read her the entire Anne of Green Gables series like twenty times now!"

I barely dodged a swing at my head as I tried to cut in. She wasn't finished, "It wasn't your powers that made you give a shit about Fred and Samson, and your powers didn't make you take up Karate, despite hating fighting, cause you knew it was important to me. It didn't make you care about Brad, or to keep from hurting Tim and Rob while they were trying to hurt you."

She just kept coming, not even trying to conserve at all, now switching up between staff swings, and kicks, "The 1% didn't choose to pay off the house for Mom and Dad, you did. Your ability didn't choose to ditch the cowl that day, it was you. And Aimee? God damn dude, she's had a pic of you in her locker for like a year now. She just got tired of dropping 'hints'."

I caught her leg, letting go of the staff with one arm, and pushed her to the ground with my shoulder, "What?! Bullshit!"

"It's a pic of you and Merida. I saw her watching you two, when we went to Rose Festival. The whole place was one giant mud patch, and Mom and Dad wanted to pack it in, but Merida was raising a huge fuss. You remember?"

I'd been sick for like a week after that. I remembered it, "What? I didn't see her there."

She caught my gi, and rolled. By angle, I didn't have the leverage, and now I was on the ground, with Mackenzie coming up, using my own leg hold to get on top, "Like, I said: dumbass! You took her around that whole carnival, every ride, and you got absolutely soaked, cause she messed up her poncho, and you gave her yours.

"And since then, Aimee's been trying to hint to you to ask her out, but you miss it every time. She even asked me about you, but no, you miss every damn signal," She said, trying to maintain advantage.

I went for straight strength, physically ejecting her off of me, and rolled, swinging to get distance. I was slightly taller now, so I had to keep the distance advantage, "Oh, what hints did I 'miss'?"

She shot forward, trying to close, "The 'Secret Admirer' letter? She stopped straightening her hair cause you mentioned one time that you like natural curls somewhere in. Just, so. many. times. And that isn't your powers, that's you. It's all you, like when you dropped Brad's father! He gave that up when I cornered him this morning. Yeah, the 1% gave you the ability to do it, but you chose it, dipshit!"

She nearly ran into my elbow, and I stopped right before contact, "Fine. You win."

We both collapsed to the mat, "It's just, it's so hard. Crimson-"

"Oh come on, bro, she was baiting you." She was panting heavily. We'd definitely gone too hard, but to an extent it felt good. Note for future moments of self-doubt: Fight Mackenzie.

I slowly shook my head, while looking up, "Why would she care about me?"

"Aimee, or Crimson? Kinda losing track here."

I closed my eyes, "Crimson. Aimee... I have a lot of feelings about, but Crimson trying to bait me seems less insane than Aimee liking me, so we'll go with that one."

She sat up, "Think about it for a second. Why go off-script? You really think it was a coincidence that they let an academy student do an open interview? I mean come on, she was a plant. Probably another roundabout way of trying to get you to the academy, hoping your 'Super-Puberty' would guide you toward the girl with the nice body and bare midriff, and just get at you, put you in your own head long enough to make the decision. They didn't account for you being in love with someone already, cause you dumbassed your way through the whole thing."

She got up shakily, then offered me a hand, helping me up, "Yeah, your abilities mean you can master just about anything, little bro, but what you do with them? That's all you, the whole way. Now come on, I need like six massages and the mother of all showers. Oh, and you got some packages today."

That was weird. I didn't remember ordering anything. I walked back inside, and geez, yeah, packages... from Huel? The fuck is Huel? Huh, apparently, some sort of nutritional drink. There was a letter on top of one of the boxes from them, and they had sent me a whole selection of their "ready-to-drink" flavors. They wanted to extend me a sponsorship, wanted me to try it out, and if I liked it, and believed it was a good product, that they could talk numbers. Well, okay, then. Mom came up to me, "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

I sighed, "Better. Me and Mackenzie talked."

She nodded, with a slight grin, "talked, yeah, it sure sounded like talking from a block away. There are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

I hugged Mom, and kissed her on the temple, "Actually, I'm gonna grab a couple of these Huel things I got, and as soon as Mackenzie's done, I'm taking a shower."

I got back to my room, turned my phone back to receiving, and it positively EXPLODED with notifications. A ton of them were Darryl checking in. There must've been one for every five minutes. I quickly texted him I was fine, and I'd talk to him after school tomorrow. Texts from the school, Mom, Dad, checking in on me. I was tagged in a post on Insta by Fred, showing off his apartment and car, Samson sleeping on an Ikea couch. I smiled, but I really needed to work on getting him some more furniture. That apartment would make a Buddhist think he needed more stuff. He had like a couch, a TV, and a futon. Not a futon frame, mind, but just the actual mattress.

Finally, a message from Aimee on FB: "Call me" and her phone number. I checked the time, and made the call, "Uh, hey Aimee. This is Marcus. Um, are you... doing anything Sunday?"