Unlikely Heroes

It seemed as if Annie had been waiting all night to smack Cal, giving a good whack on the back of the head as soon as Mikaela disappeared through her front door. He winced, looking over at her in confusion. She just glared at him.

"What did I tell you about telling lies?" she snapped.

"I was just sitting here!" Cal frowned.

"You lied to me, and you lied to her," she accused.

"What did I lie about?"

"Really, Calvin?" Annie said, giving him the look that made him cringe from childhood. "First of all, you told her I was your grandmother. Are you really so ashamed of having a nanny?"

"I'll be nineteen in February," he said, pulling out of Mikaela's driveway to head home.

"And?"

"And... Well... I'm old enough to vote," he said awkwardly.

"You're also old enough to go to prison," she snapped. “Which is where you would have ended up had I not put this much time, sweat, and blood into raising you to be a man, not an immature little boy.”

Cal went silent, pursing his lips and quietly driving the rest of the way. He was glad to have his baby back in his hands, smoothly turning the wheel and trying hard to drive responsibly while Annie was in the car. One of the things she criticized the most was his reckless driving, and she had a panic attack every time Cal would change lanes four at a time to weave through traffic. He definitely wasn’t a patient, defensive driver.

He pulled into his own driveway and frowned when he saw some lights on, glancing at Annie. She just shrugged, giving him a reassuring half smile.

“It’ll be okay, Cal,” she told him.

Cal nodded and got out of the car, Annie following a little bit behind him. As he walked through the front door, he tried to be as quiet as he possibly could, getting all the way to the top of the stairs when a deep voice said his name, and a hand was placed on his shoulder. Cal held back a groan as he turned around, coming face-to-face with his father.

Royce Bennett was the kind of man that defined the businessman stereotype. He’d obviously just gotten home from his business trip, having it cut short for some reason. They probably needed him in two places at once, and decided he valued the one at home more. Cal was an exact copy of his father. They were both tall and thin, and shared the same icy blue eyes. He still had a head full of thick hair, and though it was grey now, it used to be the same light, sandy brown as his son. However, the similarities ended at their physical appearances.

Royce practically radiated power, and even the loudest, boldest people tended to go silent around him. He was an alpha, there was no doubt about that. Even then, when his tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and bags under his eyes from the exhaustion of traveling so often.

“How was the trip, Dad?” Cal asked, stepping back slightly.

“Fine,” Royce said, gesturing to the open door by them. “Step into my office a minute, will you?”

Cal glanced over the rail at Annie, who gave him an encouraging nod. He glanced once more at Royce, then slowly strolled into the little office he had for himself in the house, where he spent the little time he actually was at home. He made sure to look as loose and casual as he could, just because he knew there wasn’t anything his father hated more than when Cal didn’t take things seriously. If he could, he’d force his son to wear a three piece suit and carry a briefcase to school. This time, however, Royce didn’t say anything as he sat down behind his desk, opposite of Cal. For a few moments, he just swiveled in his chair, eyeing Cal. Then he reached over and pulled a brochure out of his drawer, sliding it over to Cal.

Paid Internships for College Students at RedPalm Inc.!

Cal raised an eyebrow, picking up the brochure and skimming it for a moment. Royce watched and waited, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not in college yet,” Cal pointed out.

“No, but you’re my son,” Royce said. “There wouldn’t be a RedPalm Inc. if it weren’t for me. You were held back a year, you’ll fit right in with the other kids when it comes to age.”

Cal just rolled his eyes, dropping the brochure back on the desk.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. “I don’t want to work for your shitty company.”

“Calvin…,” Royce warned.

“Why would I want to be a broker?” Cal started. “It's one of the most dishonest careers out there. I don't want to be anywhere near Wall Street. And you know what the shittiest part is? RedPalm has to be the shadiest, sleaziest company there. You're screwing people out of their money every day-”

Royce cut him off by slamming his hand on the desk over the brochure and picking it up, making Cal jump. He’d given the speech many times, and Royce was sick of hearing it. He just sighed and shook his head, putting the brochure back in his drawer and shutting it hard. He closed his eyes, shaking his head again.

“Why do you do this to me, Cal?” he asked. “Why do you insist on being a disappointment? Do you enjoy seeing me so stressed out? Do you like that?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so disappointed if you accepted that I know what I want to do with my life, and that what I want to do isn’t what you want me to do,” Cal said, raising his voice in frustration. “Try opening your mind a little bit. Maybe a hundred pounds will be lifted off your fucking shoulders!”

“Don’t you swear,” Royce said, raising his voice louder than Cal and standing to assert his authority. “Go, then. This conversation is over.”

Cal shrunk slightly with Royce’s tone of voice. He didn’t disappoint his parents on purpose. That was the last thing he wanted. However, he refused to let his parents mold him and hold him back, the way they did with his two older sisters. One day, Royce decided that he wanted his oldest daughter to work for his company, RedPalm. Two days after she graduated college, she had an executive position at RedPalm locked and ready for her. Cal’s mother, Cherie, was a fashion designer. She had a small boutique in the fashion district, made entirely of her own exclusive designs. When Jessa got older, she became the pretty one in the family. Cherie decided that Jessa was the only one who could model the clothes, which led to her dropping right out of college and having her pretty face plastered all over the walls and advertisements. Cal, however, had plans for himself. He really was going to make a difference, and neither of his parents were going to force him to quit.

He had a sick feeling in his gut that lasted all the way to the next day, and his friends could tell. Brett tore his eyes away from Kelsey Roberts to ask why he looked so pale, and Leon looked Cal in the eye for the first time all day. Since he’d taken his sweet time giving the car back, he was ready to be yelled at, but Cal didn't do anything like that.

"You good, buddy?" Brett asked.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm good," he nodded. "Just had another... Disagreement last night with my dad. Nothing huge."

"Your dad is scary," Leon mumbled, biting the end of his straw. "Uncle Frankie gets pretty scary too. Same with Aunt Stella. When they get really mad, you know? After the whole thing with the car, they sat me down and just yelled at me for a straight thirty minutes. They went off about some great uncle I had or something, saying he didn't didn't go to Alcatraz and teach everyone a lesson so his descendants do the same thing. I told them they were making him sound like Jesus dying for my sins or something, and they got even more mad. And now they want to get me a Jesus tutor or something, as if going to church with them every Sunday wasn't boring enough. I borrowed a fucking car, not-"

"We're discussing the car later," Cal interrupted, giving Leon a look.

"Okay, great!" he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Now you're going to get me a Jesus tutor too!"

Cal shook his head and glanced over at Brett, who hadn't even been paying attention. He was just staring at something behind Cal, a sort of seriously concerned look on his face. Cal turned to follow his gaze to Garrett Hanson, who was sitting by himself at a table in the back corner of the cafeteria. He kept looking around, paranoid, and his food was completely untouched. Cal looked back over at Brett, waiting for an explanation.

"He's been dealing," Brett said, lowering his voice. "Usually dealers around here stick to the rich private school kids, but he got greedy and expanded to the city. Got himself involved with the gangs."

"So what's bugging him?" Leon asked.

"His source cut him off, and this gang leader isn't happy," Brett whispered, glancing around to make sure no one other than Cal and Leon were listening. "Because he took the money first. Now they want their money back, but he already spent that. According to him, today was his last day to get it. And judging from his demeanor, he doesn't have it."

"So?"

"So, that's basically a death sentence," Brett said. "The guys he's messing with aren't merciful, Cal. He's going to ask for an extension, but everyone knows they're not giving it to him. Garrett might not be here tomorrow."

"Damn," Leon frowned. "He's not even eighteen yet."

"Unfair world," Brett agreed.

Cal thought about this for the rest of the day. As sketchy as people seemed to think he was, he didn't mess with things like gangs or drug deals. It was terrifying to think about. And yet, he couldn't push it from his mind. His thoughts went back to Mikaela, and their discussion about how to use their abilities. It was a joke at the start, but maybe it really could have been used for good.

He waited until an hour after school before going to Mikaela, trying to catch her just as she came out with the rest of the dance team after their rehearsal. He was about to grab her arm, but froze when he saw her walking with Sadie, ducking around the corner so he wouldn't be seen. When they disappeared inside the girl's locker room, Cal almost completely turned around and walked away. Almost. The static feeling spread over his body as he went invisible, pushing himself right through the wall and into the locker room. He'd been in there once before, and then, he was alone with Sadie. After that it was and idea to just sit there and watch girls change when they couldn't see him sitting there, but he never had the guts to do it. Now here he was, weaving through the crowd so none of them would feel the weird static feeling if he touched them, or the cold if he went as far as to go through them. He'd only dreamed of seeing so many naked girls at once, but there was one naked girl in particular that he was looking for.

He found Mikaela in the third row of lockers with Sadie, both in their underwear as they changed. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get her attention without also getting Sadie's attention. He slowly reached over and lightly touched Mikaela's arm, though it went through her like a ghost. She, however, froze up and knew exactly what was happening, quickly pulling her clothes on and looking around, much to Sadie's confusion. Sadie took her sweet time getting dressed, giving Mikaela a weird look when she suddenly muttered a goodbye and shuffled away. Cal walked ahead of her and slowly opened the closet door so no one would see it happening and freak out about a ghost. Mikaela followed him in, and he waited for her to close the door before reappearing.

"This is a whole new level of creepy, Cal," she whispered. "Even for you."

"Do you know Garrett Hanson?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

"Garret Hanson?" she frowned. "Yeah, I had a class with him last year. Why?"

"Listen, you wanted to be a superhero? You can be one. Meet me in the back parking lot around five. Wear something dark, with a hood."