All this commotion and I didn't even get my food, yet!

May wasn't sure why that was the first thing to cross her mind when the napkin dispenser hit Poop Tattoo guy directly across the side of the face. Maybe it was because weird circumstances caused people to think and do weird things.

Actually she was hangry. Perhaps that played a major factor. Either way, she definitely wasn't getting her order after that point.

"I wish I still had my pepper spray!" Phoebe shouted. She grabbed her things, looking around to plot their escape.

May didn't see any time to plan. That was when Poop Tattoo lunged toward her. Leaping up in her seat, May acted on pure adrenaline. She hopped onto the table and took a grand jump. Effortlessly, she floated several feet in the air across the diner. Later, witnesses would write on Bluesky and Threws about how it looked like she was running on the air (folks on Reddit would spread pure speculative rumor that shall be omitted). The sight was enough for anyone to know that it was not something a "normal" human could do.

It stunned her just as much.

"You think you're some kind of supernatural hero or something?" Poop Tattoo's voice was still loud in her head.

But May couldn't respond to him, neither in her mind or out loud. Looking ahead, her heart throbbing out of her chest, she caught him staring right at her, faced in her direction. His eyes shimmered with evil. Behind him, there was Phoebe leaping out of her seat.

"Let's go!" Phoebe shouted.

With everyone's eyes on them, May didn't know what to do. Then again, theatrics and extended dialogue in a moment where someone was actively attacking them seem frivolous, anyway.

Poop Tattoo reached to his pocket, presenting a knife. Phoebe slammed her backpack into him with all her might, sending him colliding into a table where two freshly-delivered, steaming cups of coffee had been sitting. He shrieked as they spilled all over them.

"Are you coming or what?" Phoebe shouted.

Trying to stay alive, May rushed toward Phoebe, and the two of them slipped out the door. Poop Tattoo yelled unintelligible words.

Working up the courage to ask what the hell they were going to do, May turned to see Phoebe give her a shit-eating grin.

"Guess what I got?" Phoebe said.

"Please tell me it'll protect us from that maniac. . ." May replied.

She had barely finished her sentence before Phoebe held up a set of keys, jingling them as loudly as she could. May recognized that an older man had laid them down on his table just two or three minutes ago. She had watched him do it.

"Are you out of your mind?!" May shouted.

"You better be quiet before we get caught. Sheesh! I think you'd be grateful." Phoebe lifted the key fob, pressed a button, and the horn of a sedan beeped once. "Nice! That'll do."

As Phoebe made her way toward the car, May pressed close by, making her voice hush. "You can't be serious! We can't steal a car! We're going to get in trouble!"

"Eh, a whole bunch of people just watched you fly across the diner, so. . ."

"Phoebe!"

"Sorry; they just watched you glide across the—"

Both heads turned at a loud smash! It was Poop Tattoo guy with his face all red everywhere the hot coffee touched it. He had thrown the glass door open, causing it to shatter. He held that knife in his left hand, his expression intense.

"I think some jail time and a fine is the least of our worries right now," Phoebe said. She grabbed May's wrist, pulling her toward the car. Her nails dug in deep.

It was only a few feet away, but the entire time, May's mind was consumed with how her parents had been wanting to keep her isolated in order to keep her safe. Now, she was acutely aware of the danger. Thoughts of her mother flashed across her mind. What type of danger had her mom come up against that caused her to lose her life? Was it something like this? Or something far worse?

I don't want to die! I don't want to be isolated in my room for the rest of my life!

I just. . . I. . . I want. . .

The dream came back to her all at once; it was the one where she had been flying across the water without a care in the world. Had that dream even taken place on Earth?

I want. . . to be. . . free. Even if free means. . . some totally different planet.

Finally, she understood Phoebe's motives. Well, some of Phoebe's motives, for there was one thing she just couldn't get behind: "I'm not stealing a car with you!"

"It's a little late for that. Come on!" Phoebe pulled open the door of the sedan, throwing herself into the driver's seat.

"Hey!" Poop Tattoo shouted. He was gaining on them, and surprisingly fast.

Her conscience still taking an internal beating, May climbed into the passenger's seat of the car, muttering the entire time under her breath that she was sorry. She didn't know who she was saying it to. But as they sped off, she heard their enemy's voice ring out in her head, again: "Nice move. I like how you calculated the odds of going to jail and realized you'll be too dead to be arrested in the first place!"

May groaned, trying to tune out the sound of Phoebe turning up the radio. Lady Gaga. Some song from the early 2010s and she couldn’t remember the name of it. Why did it matter? She thought of such silly things at a time like that. The bass boomed loud out of the car stereo, and it vibrated her body into oblivion.

The beating of her own heart was all she needed to know that the stakes had been raised much further than what she could fly.