Unlikely Heroes

"It was just a coincidence. They just squeezed the cartons too hard, that's all. I absolutely did not make milk explode with my mind. That's insane. It's completely impossible."

Mikaela had gone straight home after the incident in the cafeteria, and had been pacing restlessly in her living room and talking to herself ever since. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow caused the milk cartons to burst but that was, as she kept telling herself, impossible.

"Oh my god, I bet it's the goop," she muttered. "Maybe it's causing hallucinations or something. That shit better not give me a brain tumor or I'm gonna be really pissed."

She finally stopped her frantic pacing and collapsed onto the couch. All she had wanted was to get through this year with as little incident as possible, graduate, and flee cross country. Now here she was only a week into the school year and she was losing touch with reality. Mikaela groaned and flopped forward, face planting into the throw pillows. She decided the only real solution at that moment was to watch The Princess Bride for the five millionth time until the world decided to go back to normal. She felt another weird popping in her ears as she lifted her head from the pillows and sat up. She frowned. The movie was sitting on top of the DVD player but she was positive she hadn't left it there. It should have been on the shelf with the other movies.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself. She popped it into the DVD player and went upstairs to fetch the comforter off her bed. She wrapped it around herself as she sat down on the couch, burrowing herself into it until only her face showed out of the pile of green fabric. She stayed huddled there in her makeshift blanket nest for most of the afternoon, eventually daring to come out to raid the kitchen. She pulled cheese out of the refrigerator and bread from the cupboard to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Her phone went off, startling her, and she dropped the frying pan she was holding on her foot. She cursed a blue streak and hopped on her uninjured foot, shrieking when every cabinet door in the kitchen flew open at the same time. Her phone kept dinging; it was no doubt s group chat among her friends; but she ignored it, bracing herself against the counter while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She halfheartedly tried telling herself that this was probably a dream, but the throbbing in her foot indicated otherwise. Suddenly no longer hungry, she returned the cheese to the refrigerator and carefully closed all the cabinets.

She stood there for several minutes, trying desperately to rationalize what was happening but finding no explanation. Feeling more than a little idiotic, she looked at the frying pan still sitting on the counter, focusing intently on it. She was sure nothing would happen and then she could laugh at herself and chalk this all up to an exhausting first week of school. She felt a slight pressure build behind her eyes again as she imagined the frying pan lifting off the countertop. Then the frying pan quivered, and was airborne. Mikaela screamed again, losing concentration and it clattered to the floor, landing on her other foot.

"Oh goddammit!" she hollered, leaping gingerly from foot to foot. She backed away from the frying pan as if it might attack her, getting ice out of the freezer and filling a large bowl so she could stick her poor battered feet into it. She returned to the living room and stared blankly at whatever was on the TV as she tried to take stock of her situation.

"I made a frying pan fly," she said aloud. "Maybe I should just call it Peter Pan." She snickered at her own terrible joke and then grimaced.

"Okay, get it together stupid," she chided herself. She glanced at the remote, lying on the opposite arm of the couch. Taking a breath she imagined it flying into her outstretched hand. She overshot slightly, nearly braining herself with it. All weekend she practiced moving small objects around, each time expecting it to not work and prove that she was losing it. But while sometimes she lost her focus or sent things flying further than she meant to, every time she "nudged" something with her mind, it moved. Images of going to prom and being soaked in pig's blood and setting the gymnasium ablaze kept dancing through her head, not doing anything to make her feel better. Still, crazy or not, she had to admit it was sort of fun.

Monday morning came, and as Mikaela walked to school it occurred to her that she should probably talk to Cal. She wasn't thrilled with the idea but she needed to know if he was experiencing anything this weird. She figured it had to be a result of that mysterious blue slop that the van driver had spilled all over them, and if that was the case then it must have effected Cal too. She didn't see him in the morning, so she waited impatiently for the lunch bell to ring and then fairly jumped from her seat in AP English, scurrying out the door and scouring the hallways. She spotted his familiar lanky form waiting for his friends outside the cafeteria. She definitely didn't want to talk in front of them so she made a beeline toward him and yanked on his arm.

"I need to talk to you," she said briskly.

"That's a first. But I'm kind of busy at the moment. Can I take a rain check?" He tried to pull his arm free of her grip but she wasn't having any of his crap today. She shoved him away from the cafeteria door, trying to steer him outside.

"Lounging against the wall trying to look cool doesn't count as busy," she informed him. "And this is important so move your ass."

"You need to speak to me in private? To what do I owe the pleasure?" He smirked and Mikaela resisted the urge to kick him.

"Calvin, I mean it," she said, continuing to shove him, not that it did much good.

"Say please," he said. She crossed her arms and glared at him while he smiled innocently.

"Please move your ass outside," she said.

"There that wasn't so hard now was it?"

Mikaela shoved him again and this time he went, chuckling. He leaned up against a tree outside and folded his arms.

"Now what's so urgent, Your Highness?"

"Have you been experiencing anything...weird, since the night that van almost ran us over?"

"Well I had a nasty itch for a while-"

"Besides that," Mikaela interrupted. "After the itching stopped. Did anything else unusual happen?"

"You felt the need to accost me in the halls and insist we talk in private to ask me weird questions."He gave her a crooked half smile, blue eyes crinkling with mischief. "Or did you just want me all to yourself?"

"Am I so transparent?" Mikaela put a hand over her heart in mock surprise. "I just need you so desperately. To answer my fucking question, you arrogant jackass."

He chuckled again. "Oh Mikaela I love it when you talk dirty."

She let out an exasperated noise and Cal grinned.

"What kind of weird things?" he asked.

"Weird things that...shouldn't be able to happen."

He cocked his head and studied her. "Are you high?"

"Can you please be serious just once in your life?" she hissed. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, sorry. Can you maybe elaborate a little more on this weirdness you've been experiencing?"

Mikaela bit her lip nervously. She didn't know how comfortable she felt sharing this with anyone, least of all Cal Bennett. She shifted from foot to foot.

"It started on Friday," she began reluctantly. "In the cafeteria when Derek and Jeff were messing with those freshmen. They wanted to prank Kyle and Derek was being an asshat as usual and then the milk cartons just kind of exploded."

"Yeah, I saw. What's your point, Highness?"

"My point is that I'm pretty sure it's my fault the milk cartons exploded."

Cal stared at her for several long moments, his eyebrow arched skeptically.

"Your fault," he repeated. "You were standing a good five feet from the freshmen. I saw you. You didn't even touch the cartons."

"Thank you for your excellent recreation of the events, Sherlock." Mikaela rolled her eyes. "I told you, weird. And at first I didn't think I could have done it either, but then when I went home I wanted to watch a movie and it was on top of the DVD player instead of on the shelf where it goes-"

"So you think something paranormal in fashion is happening because you forgot where you left a movie? Your mind is easily blown."

"Would you let me finish," she snapped. "That's not all that happened."

"Did your dishes go into the dishwasher and magically come out clean, too?"

"Look, I'm just going to show you," Mikaela said irritably. "And you'd best never breathe a word to anyone about this ever, Bennett, or I swear I will mount your dick on a burning pike, got it?"

"It must really be something good," he said dryly. "Is that why you wore that low cut top today?"

Mikaela scowled, slipping a textbook out of her bag and dropping it, making it hover in midair instead of hitting the ground. Then she sent it hurtling forward to smack into Cal's chest.