James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book Two

Eight

... THREE YEARS LATER.

BRYCE

I carefully lifted my soccer trophy from its spot on the dresser, feeling its weight in my palm. I smiled as I polished it in the corner of my sleep shirt before replacing it. My fingertips lightly grazed over the ridges of my abdominal muscles — still six. A soft knock echoed outside my door, and Dexter's muffled voice called out to me.

"Happy Birthday, Superboy," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "I hate it when you call me that, Dad."

"Are you almost ready, kiddo?" He asked.

"Yeah," I replied—the room froze in seconds. I swiftly finished my routine, brushing my teeth and combing my hair. Then I rushed from the bathroom and opened the door, surprisedly greeting my dad.

The edges of my ears burned with embarrassment. "Okay, quicksilver," He laughed. "Save your superpowers for when you need them." I tried to walk off, but his muscular arm wrapped around my broad chest and shoulders, and Dexter pulled me back in front of him. The white cotton fabric of his dress shirt and the woodsy smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, unleashing a flurry of sensations I didn't know what to do with.

Dexter's expression tightened, and his gaze was piercing as he spoke. "About that fire the other day... Was that you?" His voice had an edge that sent a chill down my spine. I bit my lip nervously and shrugged, unable to help the wide-eyed glimmer of excitement in my eyes. Could it be that Noah was back in town?

My father caught my arm just as I was about to run off again. "Don't know, and we'll be late if we don't hurry." His firm voice crackled with concern, and he looked away, embarrassed at his emotions. I sighed, relieved this time. "But it wasn't me, so don't worry. I'm sure whoever knows what they're doing." I gave his shoulder a reassuring pat before turning to Dexter and beckoning him towards the stairs.

Kyra was already thirteen when I spotted her in the kitchen, busy scrambling eggs and bacon on the stove. She had been nine just a few years ago, but time seemed to fly by. Seeing her cooking in the kitchen made me feel older, too.

I sat at the dining table as Kyra brought my dad a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She moved with a coltish grace, making her look too young to work in a diner. Her dark braids brushed her smooth chocolate skin, just below her crop top hanging under her ribs and a pair of off-white shorts and black sneakers. "Good morning, Bryce and Dad." Kyra smiled. Her lips were full despite how thin she was. Then she walked back over to the stove to grab another.

"Happy Birthday, Bryce." She handed me a plate of food piled higher than my father's. "I made them special for you."

I smiled big at my sister, too. "Thanks, Kyra."

Dexter patted my shoulder. I took a bite of bacon and shoveled eggs and pancakes into his mouth until his plate was empty, and I pushed him out of my seat.

I pecked Kyra on the forehead before turning away. My father followed me to the door, his warm breath on my neck.

"I can give you a ride today if you need it, bud?" Dexter asked. I smiled and shook my head, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"Why would I take the ride if I have super-speed or the ability to fly?" I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. Before I could shut the door, my dad grabbed it, stopping me.

"That's what worries me," he said sternly. I turned halfway around and looked at him. His eyes were worried, but I assured him I would be fine. He tossed me the keys to his brand-new truck, which hung in mid-air as I snatched them out of the air.