Unlikely Heroes

Cal wasn't sure why he deserved to be kept after school. All he did was stroll in ten minutes late, and when his teacher asked him if he was off doing something more important, he gave her the honest truth and said yes. It was actually a pretty noble act, on his part. And yet, there he was, stuck with the other kids who pissed off their teachers and cleaning up after a messy freshman orientation that had happened that morning.

It wasn't a total loss, of course. Cal didn't have anywhere else to be after school, and on his way out, he got to see Mikaela Chase sauntering by. She didn't give him the time of day, as usual, but it was fun to tease her anyways. However, Cal saw the van coming before she did. He expected it to slow down, but when it didn't, his eyes widened and he grabbed Mikaela's wrist, pulling her out of the street. He expected it to speed past them, but it began to swerve, as if something was wrong with the driver. It swerved right onto the sidewalk they were standing on, and Mikaela shrieked as Cal jumped out of the way again, pulling her with him. The van screeched towards them and they moved back, only to be cornered by the chain link fence as the back doors of the van swung open and nearly hit Cal. They both sunk to the ground against the fence and braced themselves for impact as the contents in the back of the van fell out. Some barrel-like metal containers were knocked over, a milky, blue-ish liquid spilling out and all over the both of them. Cal groaned and wiped it off his face, looking over to find that Mikaela was clinging to him with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Are we dead?" she whispered.

"We must be," Cal told her. "I always imagined heaven would look like you holding on to me, covered in something that looks like-"

"Don't even go there," Mikaela snapped in disgust, shoving him away and standing up, though she wobbled a bit.

Cal did the same, and found that he felt about as dizzy as she seemed to be. It was then that the driver of the van suddenly ran out, the frazzled young man staring at them with wide, tired eyes. Cal glared at him, wiping the milky stuff off his sleeve and pushing his hair back out of his face.

"Are you fucking insane?" he snapped. "I could have died!"

"I'm sorry, I haven't slept in days. You're okay, right?" the man asked, almost desperately. "Did I hit you?"

"I'm going to hit you," Cal threatened, balling his hand into a fist.

The man held up his hand in surrender, watching as Mikaela shook the liquid off herself, then looking back to Cal fearfully. Whatever that liquid was, he was scared about spilling it.

"We need to hose you guys down," he said suddenly. "I see a garden hose over there. Come on, it'll be quick."

"You have got to be kidding," Mikaela icily interjected. "You're going to spill shit all over us and then expect us to let you hose us down with a garden hose?"

"What is this stuff, anyways?" Cal asked.

"Look, I don't know," the man said. "I'm just transporting it. Everything will be easier for everyone if we just hose you guys down and pretend it never happened."

Cal and Mikaela both argued, but not long later, they were both standing on the grass as the young man sprayed them with the garden hose. They both ended up dripping wet, cleansed of the milky liquid but soaked in freezing cold hose water. The man cringed under the pressure of both their terrible glares, quickly driving off as soon as he could get away.

"I noted his license plate number," Mikaela said. "He's getting reported."

"It was a fake plate," Cal mumbled.

"What?"

"It was a fake license plate," he repeated, annoyed. "I spent my entire summer working with cars. I know what I'm talking about. There was a license plate stuck on top of the real one."

"Why would he have a fake license plate?"

"Don't be stupid," Cal said, rolling his eyes. "It's because whatever he's doing, he's doing it illegally. If he's spotted and thought to be suspicious, no one will be able to track him later. Including you, princess."

Mikaela wasn't about to sit there and argue with Cal. She started walking away, trembling slightly with how freezing cold the water was. Cal frowned, wanting to just walk away right there, but unable to. He cursed under his breath before calling out her name. She turned to glare at him again.

"At least let me give you a ride home," Cal said.

"I don't want to sit in that junky car," she snapped. "It'll break down."

"Junky?" Cal repeated in disbelief. "She's beautiful, there's nothing junky about her. You know what? Go ahead. Walk home. You're a prime target to get mugged, and I genuinely hope someone does take your money on your pleasant stroll home."

He turned and walked back towards his car, muttering words of encouragement to it so it didn't feel bad or self conscious about what Mikaela said. A few moments later, Mikaela shoved past him and sat down in the passenger seat, not one looking at him or softening her expression.

"If you're really so desperate to spend time with me, fine," she told him. "But don't expect it to happen again. And don't try anything funny, or I'll make sure you'll never be able to have kids."

Cal rolled his eyes, almost painfully getting into the driver's seat with the worry of stains getting into his precious seats. He reached into the backseat and picked up his jacket, throwing it at Mikaela and hitting her in the face. She pulled it off, looking at him with a bit of confusion.

"What the fuck is this?" she asked him.

"It's a jacket," he said as he backed out of the empty parking lot. "You're dressed like a hooker, and you're soaking wet. I don't want to be held responsible when you die of hypothermia."

She hesitated, but slipped the jacket on as she directed Cal towards her house. They sat in silence, with Mikaela just staring out the window and Cal keeping his eyes glued on the road. Eventually, he pulled up to a house in the suburbs. Mikaela got out of the car before he even made a complete stop, picking up her things and starting to take off the jacket until Cal stopped her.

"Keep it," he said. "It's infected with cooties now."

"What does Sadie see in you?" she asked wrinkling her nose.

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" Cal said, raising an eyebrow and leaning into the passenger seat. "Come on, I don't get a good night kiss?"

"I thought I had cooties."

Mikaela strengthened her point by slamming the car door in his face, nearly hitting him in the nose as and turned on her heel to strut away. Cal rolled his eyes before driving away, pulling into the driveway of his own home and sneaking up to his own room. Not that he really needed to sneak. His parents probably didn't even know he was gone later than he was supposed to.

The next morning, Cal woke up at five in the morning feeling itchy all over his body. At least, on certain parts of his torso. He suspected the liquid from the night before had something to do with it, giving him an allergic reaction, but he saw no marks. He just itched and itched until the spots turned red with scratch marks. He tried to figure out how to fix it himself, but ended up hopelessly itching, calling Brett first chance he got to tell him what happened, though he didn't mention that Mikaela was there too.

"Go to the doctor," he suggested over the phone. "It sounds like a doctor thing."

"No, I hate the doctor," he grumbled, itching his forearm.

"Well, I don't know what more to say to you," Brett said matter-of-factly.

"You're no help," Cal said, hanging up on Brett with a sigh as he itched some more.