James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - B2

Twenty

"Need a hand with those boxes?" Bryce called across the driveway, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, we thought we'd help out," I replied, giving him a nod and trying to keep my tone casual.

Sarah stepped onto the porch, tying her long red hair into a loose ponytail. Her blue eyes met mine for a brief, almost electric moment, and I froze. "Hey, Noah," she said, her voice casual but warm.

"Hey," I managed, forcing my expression into something neutral while my heart raced. She pushed her hair behind her shoulder, rolled her eyes with a faint laugh, and snapped me out of my trance.

"I'm Sarah," she added quickly, as if reminding herself to stay polite. "Noah already knows me, I guess."

"I... missed you," I admitted, my voice steadier than I felt. She offered a small, uncertain smile, and I realized she was studying me as intently as I was studying her.

Her dad's voice cut through the tension. "There are more boxes inside. You guys think you can manage?"

"Yeah, no problem," I said, forcing a casual grin. My eyes flicked to Bryce—we shared a quick, silent glance—and he smirked, nodding. James and Derek mirrored the look, a quiet signal passing between us.

We got to work, hauling boxes from the vans into the house. As soon as we were out of Sarah's direct line of sight, we couldn't resist a little playful maneuvering. I lifted a medium box with my hands, letting it hover an inch above my grip to make the weight disappear. James subtly nudged a stack of comic books across the driveway with a thought, so it landed perfectly where Bryce needed it. Bryce flicked a soda can ever so slightly, making it roll toward Mark's hands as if by accident. Derek carried a crate with one hand, his other brushing the corner just enough to correct its tilt before it could wobble.

We exchanged quiet, mischievous smiles, careful to keep our movements small and natural, pretending to grunt and pant from the effort. Sarah and her family walked past us multiple times, giving casual compliments on how strong and coordinated we were, completely unaware of the secret behind our ease.

"Hey, Noah, can you hand me that box?" Sarah called from the porch. I bent forward, pretending to struggle with the weight, while subtly letting it float just enough that my arms didn't actually bear it.

"Here you go," I said, setting it down with an exaggerated sigh. She raised an eyebrow at me, a look of mild surprise that I interpreted as admiration, though she had no idea the box had barely touched my hands.

Time passed quickly. We shuffled boxes, traded loads, and laughed quietly at our little private jokes—an extra tilt here, a subtle lift there—careful not to give anything away. Derek carried a long stack of books up the steps with a casual grace that seemed almost too perfect, James faked a stumble with a crate, and Bryce adjusted a pile of cans with the lightest touch, all while maintaining the pretense of exhaustion.

Eventually, the last heavy box made it inside, and Mark headed straight for a frozen lemonade. Sarah's dad mixed drinks for all of us, and we paused in the kitchen, catching our breath. The air smelled faintly of citrus and summer, mixing with the faint scent of cardboard and pine from the boxes.

"Thanks again, boys," Peter said, giving us a warm look. "You've been a huge help." His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, curiosity glinting there.

"Same time tomorrow?" I joked, trying to keep my nerves in check. Sarah laughed softly, and my chest tightened.

"I'll see you at school, Noah," she said, waving as we started heading back across the street. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wasn't sure if I was imagining the way her gaze lingered on me, or if she truly felt the same spark.

Behind me, James gave a subtle nudge to a soda can on the porch, making it roll perfectly into my hand. Bryce made a small flashlight flicker in my grip as we walked, while Derek, just ahead, carried a box so effortlessly it seemed to float. The boys were clearly having fun with our little game, and I couldn't help but laugh quietly, the sound low enough that only we heard it.

Everything looked normal to anyone watching. But between the four of us, there was a quiet thrill—a shared secret we all understood, a small, invisible world layered over the ordinary one.