GABRIEL

Gabe should have been excited to go to Ifran.

Ifran Academy was the top institution in the country. There was no better place on Earth for world-class Guardian training.

Logically, Gabe knew he was blessed to be there at all. Their acceptance rate was rock bottom, their classes were top-notch, and graduates were all but guaranteed to sign as a professional hero with one of the top five agencies when they left.

But Gabe was 21 and invincible. Nothing was exciting when nothing could truly hurt you.

His dad called him irresponsible, and maybe that was true. Maybe he wasn’t appreciating the risks he faced. Of permanent detention. Of personal destruction. Of societal backlash. But it all felt so far away, and the world he lived in wasn’t technicolor anymore, so he did whatever he could to get those splashes of life back for however long they’d have him. 

Gabe pushed boundaries, and got bad press, and fought Dexter until his knuckles were raw so he could watch them knit themselves back together. He didn’t sit patiently and take feedback. It wasn’t his style.

Maybe that was why the bright smile on his first day felt more forced than usual. 

He wasn’t actually excited to be here.

“Gabs, you look deranged,” George told him, her curly hair fluttering about in the wind, showing about as much respect for gravity as George showed for authority. “Stop smiling before you’re put away.”

“I’m trying to undermine the rumors that I’m an uncontrollable menace,” he told her, manic smile etched deeply into his cheeks. He gave a polite wave to the professor of his morning class, who hurried away with a curt nod and furrowed brow. “I get the impression it’s not working at all.”

“That’s because you’re 168 centimeters of uninhibited rage.”

“You make everything about my height, George,” he told her serenely. He had his blond hair semi-tamed beneath a backwards hat today, aviators perked on top of his pert nose. He was sure his grey eyes promised murder behind the tinted glass. “I don’t see what difference a couple inches make when you’re super strong and essentially invincible.”

George gave him a sidelong glance. She tapped her long, gel nails along her thigh. “Dateability, for one.”

“I asked you out once when we were 15, and now, we all know I’m gay. Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m divorcing you.”

They walked the rest of the way to Ambrose Hall in silence, splitting at the stairs so George could meet her partner for introductions. Gabriel took them two at a time to his next class, the envelope with his partner’s name burning a hole in his pocket all the way up.

He still hadn’t looked at it.

It was probably melodramatic of him to care, but he hated the idea that someone else was going to be accountable for him. That he was going to be accountable for them.  Guardians these days had mandated partnerships, to ensure that another user was always on hand to get any of their more...zealous colleagues under control if they toed the line.

The system had been instituted so long ago even his dad had a partner. And if the top Guardian in the country wasn’t getting out of it, neither was Gabe.

At least his partner seemed to be playing it cool enough. The press had no idea who it was either, which meant they weren’t fame hungry. He knew if he didn’t check he’d find out soon enough, thanks to the mandatory exchange of contact information with Ifran's administration, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He’d probably end up switching them out, anyway.

Hopefully for someone that was a bit of a pushover.

“Gabriel Masters.”

The voice that said it was low and even with perfect diction. Gabe almost didn’t register that they’d said anything at all. He stopped with his foot just over the threshold to the classroom, looking up.

A set of narrow, dark eyes look back down at him from behind a pair of glasses.

Gabe cocked his head. “What?”

The stranger stuck out his hand. “I’m August Wright.”

Gabe took his hand, careful to keep his grip light. “Nice to meet you, August. What did you need?”

August almost looked amused. “You haven’t read it, have you?”

“Read…” his gaze flickered down to the envelope sticking out of the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Oh! You’re my partner.”

“It would appear so.”

“Well, nice to meet you, then.” Gabe flushed just a touch pink high on his cheeks. “Sorry, since I haven’t read it, I don’t…”

August gave a gentle, polite laugh. He pulled the envelope towards him with a graceful flick of his right hand, turning the outside pink and catching it between his index and middle fingers. “Telekinesis, with some light transmutation for flavor. I’m a junior.”

Gabriel tipped down his aviators, popping a piece of bubblegum in his mouth from the pack in his pocket. “Did your original partner graduate?”

August pressed his lips together, the light leaving his eyes. “My original partner died.”

Gabe flinched, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t…right. Well, it’s nice to meet you. Are you in this class too, then? I didn’t think a telekinetic would need to participate in a physical elective.”

He held the door for August, who followed him into the room and took a spot beside Gabe at the back. “Backup plan," August said. He spoke with perfect clarity, crisp and almost musical. "The agencies scouting aphysical attributes are getting more interested in physical fitness, in the event there’s a situation we’re poorly suited for. I’m missing the physical part of my education, so. Here I am.”

Gabriel propped his feet up on the table, leaning back in his seat while the rest of the class filtered in. He tuned out the rising din of recognition among the other students. “What does mine say for my attribute? I’m curious."

August pulled Gabriel’s letter from his satchel, unfolding it neatly on the black-top table. “Superior strength. Stamina. Damage resistance.”

Gabriel laughed, crossing his ankles and bouncing his sneaker on and off the heel of his foot. “They always make it sound so sterile. No one describes it that way.”

August wrinkled his nose. “What do you usually get? Super strength? Invincible?

Gabe popped his gum, firing off a pair of matching finger guns. “Bingo.”

August sighed, repacking his satchel and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Invincibility is improbable. It’s never been registered in a single Guardian, let alone in our generation. It’s much more likely that you have a weakness you’ve strategically kept to yourself.”

Gabe bared his teeth in a feral grin. “I am strategically choosing not to answer.”

August gave a ghost of a smile. “Maybe you’ll trust me enough, one day. But...Invincible? Not likely.”

The remainder of their classmates took their seats, and Gabe made a concerted effort to ignore the growing tide of stares that he was sure were being aimed his way. The professor made a basic introduction, outlining their training schedule and the onboarding required for each student. Gabe tried to listen, he really did, but by the time they’d made it to a discussion of clothing materials best suited for each type of attribute, he could practically feel himself dozing off in real time.

“Do telekinetics even think about this sort of thing?” He whispered to August.

August, somehow entirely focused on the chemistry of nylon versus polyester, blinked back at him. “Yes,” he whispered. “Well, I do.”

Gabe snorted, earning a glare from the students directly in front of him. “Guess we’re pretty different, huh?”

August blinked again, tilting his head before looking back up at the professor. 

“Almost certainly.”