I stand outside the classroom taking heavy breaths to let the air catch up to my body. Once I regain a modicum of control, I open the door and walk inside. “Your late, Mr. Thompson.” Professor Conrad glares at me from above his glasses. His lips purse and force the wrinkles on either side to multiply in aggravation.

“I’m so sorry. Would you believe me if I said I had to fight three really big guys to protect a homeless kid?” I raise an eyebrow and try to give my most desperate and pleading look.

“Frankly, no. Take an exam and get started. You will have no extra time.” He shakes his head and returns his eyes to the papers in front of him, waving at me dismissively.

“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t need it.” He simply grunts half heartedly.

Grabbing the packet of papers and sliding into a desk, I pull out a pencil and begin getting to work. I blaze through the first page with a smirk and nod my head with confidence. I’m no Einstein but I know what I know pretty damn well - and I know psych. People are my specialty: reading them, understanding them, hearing them, all of it. It’s led to some problems in the past, but for the most part it helped me stay out of trouble and make people happy.

I’m not the first person to finish, but I’m pretty close. I hand the packet to Professor Conrad with a sly grin and he looks at me like I’m a smug bastard. I am. Picking up my backpack and striding out the door, I grab my hand and start massaging the tension from writing.

Wandering back onto the streets, my mind finally returns to the bleeding man I left in an alley. I pull out my phone and stare at that four letter name. “It’s about the guy, not Luke. It’s about the guy, not Luke.” I take a deep breath and tap the screen. Putting the speaker to my ear, my stomach drops further with each ring.

Finally, he picks up. “Hey. Calling to apologize?” I can hear his obnoxious smile.

“No…” It takes a lot not to hang up right away. “Did you find the boy? Is he alright?” I figure getting straight to the point is safer for both of us.

“Yes I did. I was able to get him back here and patch him up. I have a doctor looking at him and sewing him up right now. He’s still out cold though.” I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I didn’t cause this kid’s death. “You didn’t tell me he was cute though.”

I know he can’t see me glaring but it’s second nature at this point. “Seriously? This man was getting the shit beat out of him and dying like an hour ago. Is that all you can think about?”

“What? He’s fine now. I think I may try and keep him around for a while.” I didn’t like the way his voice drifted near the end of that sentence.

“Whatever. I’m hanging up. Bye, Luke.” I don’t bother listening for a goodbye before slamming down on the red button. “Fucking asshole.”

As I make my way to the subway, I start thinking about what happened in that fight. Why did the hits hurt less and less? What happened when I punched that guy? I’m not nearly strong enough to knock a guy back, let alone knock three men back and shatter windows. The more I thought about it all, the less sense it all made.

I was wracking my brain about what to do or who to talk to about it. Eventually, the only person I can think of is my dad. We’d always been very close, especially after mom passed, and he always seems to have the answer no matter what the question. It makes me sad I can’t see him as often since I decided to move back to the city for school but he’s always a nice reminder of home.

Knowing who I can talk to puts my mind at ease a bit. Getting off the train and making my way to my apartment is all a haze though. Faces pass as blurs and storefronts all meld together. Once I’m inside, I throw my bag down and take a long pause to collect myself.

For the third time today, I stare at my phone dreading what I’m about to do. But with much less hesitation, I hit the name Dad and wait nervously for his response. “Hey there buddy! What’s going on?”

His voice removes the pit in my stomach and I can’t help but smile a bit. “Hey Dad. It’s just… Something weird happened today.”

“How weird we talking?” He seems to get a bit more serious.

“Well, it started when I found three guys beating up a guy in an alley.”

“Whoah! Did you call the cops?”

“No… I probably should’ve now that I think about it but I interfered myself cause it looked like they were about kill him.” He doesn’t respond and simply listens. “And these were like… Really big guys.”

“Are you alright?” He sounds concerned now.

“Yeah but, that’s the weird thing. They were beating the shit out of me but I’m fine. I may have some bruises, sure, but as they kept going it hurt less and less.”

“Tyler, I have one more question for you and then I’m going to ask you to do something before we continue.” I’m taken back by his sudden shift in tone. “First off, did the guy end up being okay?”

“Y-yeah. He was really bad but I didn’t have time to stick around or call an ambulance. I texted Luke and he was able to pick him up and take care of him.”

“Oh! I thought you and Luke were…”

“We are. He was just the closest to where I was and I knew that if this guy was homeless, like I figured, Luke could take care of him.”

“Ah, that makes good sense. Now here’s the second thing. You still have that phone I gave you?”

I squint at the wall. “The weird bulky one?”

“That’s the one. I want you to hang up and call me on there. It should be the only number saved in there.”

“Okay… Can I ask why?” He’s starting to confuse and worry me.

“Just listen to me, son. I’ll explain everything when you do.” I tell him ok and hang up the phone. Digging through the back of my bedroom closet, I find the bulky, yellow and black phone that he’d given before I left. He’d told me it was for emergencies, so the fact he was telling me to use this forgotten device is more than concerning. Turning it on, the black and white screen only shows one icon at a time. I cycle from phone to messages and then contacts. Clicking into the contacts: one name is there that simply says “Rook.”

I furrow my brow at the strange name but press call. There’s a ringing for a moment before, just as he’d said, my father’s voice came through. “Alright buddy! Now, tell me what really went down.”

“Uh… Well, they kept beating me up and knocking down but with each hit I felt the pain less and less…” I bite my lip wondering if I should continue. This was all getting really weird.

“And that’s all? It just hurt less?” He clearly knew that wasn’t all.

“No, I… How do I explain it? It’s like all of their hits were being absorbed? With each punch and kick I felt less pain but more like my body was gonna explode.” The words felt alien in my mouth.

“And then what?” Why isn’t he reacting to that?

“Then, well, I finally hit the leader and that’s when things got really weird. When I punched him there was a huge blast of force? I knocked the guy into the air and like five feet back, it pushed the other two back, and even broke some windows. It’s like all the power that they were beating into me exploded out all at once.” My heart is pounding at finally admitting what happened and waiting for a response to my possible insanity.

“Huh, that’s a cool one.” What?! What kind of response is that? I’m left in a stunned silence. “You want to know why my contact in that phone is Rook?”

“Wh-what? Are you just ignoring what I said?”

He just laughs. “No no, we’ll get there. But first, what would you say if I said your old man used to be a superhero?”