I step out of my truck, shutting the door and making my way into the school with my sisters. The exterior of the main building is made of bricks of the usual color, with the mascot of all the sports teams easily visible on a sign nearby, "The Eastview Wolves." We join the crowd of students flowing into the main doors, lockers lining the interior halls while the floor is a basic black and white checkered pattern. As we continued down the halls towards my first period, my sisters split off from me to go towards their own classes, each giving me a slight wave before disappearing from sight.

Once, about halfway to class, I hear the voice of some school admin come over the speakers.

"Can Theodora Scott come to the office please?" Wonder what she did to get in trouble, hopefully nothing that’ll piss dad off.

I push the thought to the back of my mind for now as I turn the corner into the hall my class is in. Izzy leans on the wall beside the door and gives me a wave as I approach.

“Hey J! You ready for this bullshit again?”

“Yep, back to our daily prison.”

She smiles at my joke before throwing an arm around me and walking me into Mr. Anderfield’s classroom. We find our usual seats in the back and idly chat while waiting for our teacher and classmates to arrive.

My attention wanders around the room as we chat, to the several motivational posters along the walls beside various Presidents. One of the walls is painted with a mural done by Mr. Anderfield himself, featuring the Enclave Council, well, the Council from 7 years ago when he painted it. The only common member between then and now is The Brooklynite, head of the New England branch. Finally, behind his desk is a poster with the Declaration of Independence on one side and a picture of the moon landing on the other.

Right before the bell would ring to tell students to get to class, the first person who entered, besides Izzy and myself, was Malorie Jenkins, Vice President of the Student Council. She takes her seat at the front of the class, careful not to mess up her skirt as she sits down. She adjusts her little wool vest thing, making sure she looks professional, would be my assumption. She glances back at us with a slight wave, her green eyes shining a bit in the light before she faces forward once more, tightening the bun containing her light brown hair.

I feel Izzy nudge me, glancing over, and I can see she’s very clearly looking at Malorie in a bit of a different way than I was.

"Pretty hot right, too bad she’s probably straight."

"Really, Izzy, isn’t that my job?"

I do take in Malorie, like Izzy is, a fairly average girl all around, height, weight, etc. pretty pale too.

Not too long after Mr. Anderfield enters, greeting us and getting himself set up at the front desk, he is followed by the usual flow of students entering. Most of them don’t stick out to me, aside from a few.

The first is Max, or as he’s better known, Colden. I have no clue what kind of middle name that is. He struts into class like he owns the place, which he sort of does, being the captain of a couple sports teams. A hand runs through his short blond hair as he slides into his seat, leaning back and adjusting his varsity jacket to get comfortable.

He turns back and looks at me, smirking as he makes eye contact, his green eyes glaring at me despite the still fading bruise around one of them.

"Oh, I wanna bury that prick in the woods." Izzy comments, balling her fist with rage as she stares daggers into Colden’s back.

"Yeah, me too."

I let my eyes drift away from him and onto the Hawthorne twins, a pair of sisters from Scotland who really don’t look like twins.

First is Rowan, the taller and darker of the two; her skin is the tone of a natural light tan. Her hair is a light red, or ginger color, styled into a puffy mullet. She wears her usual jacket, an aviator jacket, but only about as long as a crop top with the normal long sleeves. Taking her seat, she stretches, her fit body on display before she looks at me, her hazel eyes going wide before quickly turning away the moment we make eye contact. Weird.

And then there’s her sister, Ginger, who's over half a foot shorter than her sister and much bigger. Her skin is a very pale... pale, and her curly blonde hair is spilling out of the beanie she’s never seen not wearing. She squeezed into her seat and nervously looked around the room, her pale green eyes unable to meet anyone else’s.

The last person to catch my eye is Val... Valerie...? Valaria! That was it. The girl who came into the shop the other day gave her a ride or something, I think. She looks around at everyone nervously but flashes me a slight smile before taking a seat near the front of class.

The bell for class to begin rang about a minute later, and Mr. Anderfield got up and addressed the class.

"Welcome back everyone. I hope you all had a good winter break, and I’m sure you’re all excited to get to our topic for the first part of the semester, but we have a new student in class today. Can you stand Valaria?"

She looks surprised at this but does so, walking up beside Mr. Anderfield and giving a nervous smile at the class.

"We’re glad to have you here, Ms. Morales. Would you like to share something about yourself to help everyone get to know you?"

"Uh... I like cows?"

Several students in the class laughed. Valaria's face visibly shrank at this before she was told to go back to her seat.

"Well, we should get onto our lesson now, huh? As you all likely know, Parahumans began to appear around the world a little over five decades ago. Initially, their origins were unknown, and people were afraid. It makes total sense for that too. Imagine waking up one morning to discover your neighbor, you’ve known for fifteen years, can suddenly shoot lasers from his eyes, or your coworker was in a horrible car accident and walked away without a scratch. Now this still happens from time to time, but we have a bit of a better understanding of Parahumans. Can anyone tell me something we know about their origin? And Ms. Jenkins give the other students a chance to answer."

Nobody raises a hand for a few moments before Colden does.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

"They go through Soul Ignitions, a change as to who they are as a person that has some... effect on their physiology or other things like that."

"Close, it has been noted that unless there is an overt physical change to a person due to the abilities they receive, there is no change to how their body operates itself. Additionally, we do not know the origins of a Soul Ignition, what causes them or how they bestow powers on those who go through them."

He walks towards the wall with the mural on it, gesturing towards it.

"In 1984, the government decided they needed a way to monitor the Parahumans, but without disgracing their humanity. So they created The Enclave, unifying the Suits operating in various major cities and having them work out a system together to keep track of Parahumans and have ways to more easily handle those who turn to villainy."

He turns to face the mural, his usual elated demeanor deflating slightly.

"I need to update this... Anyway, here we have the Enclave Council, or well, the council from years ago, but the concept still stands. Every two years, the teams of Suits across America nominate one of their members to be a candidate for the Council, representing your branch, and then the entire Enclave votes, sort of like the Presidential Election. And I’m sure you all know that last year, one of Redwood’s heroes won the election to become the Head of the West Coast branch, Origami."

He makes his way back to the front of the classroom, lecturing us more on some of the history of Parahumans and Suits before directly addressing us.

"I now turn the discussion to you. Talk amongst yourselves for the remainder of class and discuss your opinions on Suits, and maybe speak to your parents about it at home. I’m excited to hear what you all have to say tomorrow."

Izzy quickly turns to face me, her expression one of boredom.

"Well, glad all that’s over."

"Yeah, stupid Suits and everything. You open to hang out after school, Iz?"

"Oh uh.. nah, I’ve got plans."

"What’s up? Got a date or something?"

"No, it’s work-ish."

"You don’t have a job."

"Well, maybe I got one, ass."

I give her a look of confusion. She’s not the type to get a job, but whatever. Before we can speak further, the bell rings and it’s time to go.

🜂🜂🜂

My next two classes pass quickly; there is nothing or no one interesting involved in them. I stretch as I make my way into my 4th period class, Chemistry. At the front of the class is Mrs. Micheals, the curvy and stacked wet dream of most boys at the school. She turns to face me with a wave as I make my way to my seat in the back, rubbing my eyes and sighing before glancing around the class at some of the other students.

McKenzie Richter, Student Council President and eldest daughter of Mayor Thomas Richter, walks in. She glances at everyone with a wave before taking her seat, brushing some of her curly, black hair out of her brown eyes. She taps her fingers on the table, her sepia-toned skin glowing a bit in the light before she begins to take out her notebook. I glance at her body slightly. It’s fairly toned and athletic. I didn't realize she did sports.

Next, I spot a new kid, who looks like he’s a grade or two under me. He’s got darkish red hair styled into a short ponytail, is fairly tanned and decently built like a member of the track team, but is still barely slimmer than myself. He glances back at me with a wave, smiling as he looks at me with his green eyes. I half-heartedly wave back before looking away.

The bell rings for class to begin. Mrs. Micheals begins her lecture on whatever. I’m not really paying attention. My thoughts drift to my birthday, the fight at the bar. It felt great, just taking my anger out on those assholes.

🜂🜂🜂

Class passed quickly after that, and my mind was stuck on that thought for the entire hour. As the rest of the class made their way out to lunch, I was stopped by Mrs. Micheals.

"How was your winter break, Mr. Scott?"

"Fine, I had my birthday a few days ago."

"I know, you’re eighteen now. It must be exciting, right?"

"I guess I feel the same."

"I see, you know your grades aren’t doing well. Is there anything I can do to help?"

I look her up and down. There are certain rumors about her, but I had no idea if they were even true.

"Not really, unless you have any suggestions."

"Well, if you could help me out with something, I could adjust your grade,"

"Help you out with what exactly?"

She smiles at me, leaning against her desk and undoing a button on her top, showing off more of her cleavage.

"I think you already know Mr. Scott."