Flying? Easy.

Chapter 1

PREFACE

Hi. I'm Carter Wilburns. My life sucks. Everyday, I wish I could simply fade from existence, since my life is nothing extraordinary. At all. None of my friends nor family know that I feel like this; I simply hold it inside, like a bird in a cage. So obviously, the day that a random guy told me a gadget would take me into the future, where I would be a super hero, I didn't even ask questions; I just went along with it. Well, sort of.

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"Carter, what is it called when bees spread pollen around, to make more flowers?" Mr. Tamer asked. Carter exhaled loudly, irritated at the simpleness of the question.

"Pollination, Mr. Tamer" I mumbled.

"Correct" he said, then moved on. I exhaled loudly, wishing I could be anywhere else than the High School Science class, where Mr. Tamer taught.

"What, too easy for you?" Mason whispered to me. I ground my teeth together; I hated Mason Parish with all of my guts.

I snapped my head over to him, only to be met by a smirk; I hated that smirk. Okay, it was a sort of cute smirk, but I hated it, nonetheless.

"Mind your own business, Parish" I whispered harshly back to him.

"Calm down there, Car-Car" he whispered to me with a smirk. I glared at his perfect face, and he started grinning.

"You just can't stop checking me out, can you?" He whispered and ran a hand through his perfect honey-blond hair.

"You wish I would check you out" I whispered, even though I would admit; he was quite gorgeous. Too bad he was a total pain in my butt.

"Eh, maybe" he smirked, then looked at the front of the class.

That was the thing about Mason Parish: he knew how to get girls. He probably knew that my cheeks would redden, and I would look down, extremely flattered. I shook my head; I won't let him be in my head. It's mine.

"So, Carter, has Peter Pan swept you off your feet yet?" He whispered, smirking. When I was younger, my biggest dream, was that Peter Pan would come one day, and sweep me off my feet. Mason never let me forget that.

"I don't believe in Peter Pan; fairytales are made up stories, that are for people who need to believe in something, because they have nothing else to believe in. They're simply not real--superheroes aren't really, the Easter bunny isn't real, and Peter Pan isn't real. Sorry to break it to you, Parish" I whispered back.

"That was a nice speech, Car-Car. Too bad I fell asleep, half way in" he said and smirked. Of course he doesn't care.

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I got home drearily, and walked upstairs slowly. I didn't feel like talking to my parent and step-parent.

"Hi honey!" My too-perky step-parent said; Clarissa.

"Number one: don't call me that. Number two: not now, Clarissa" I said, acid leaking into my tone; about a year after my mom had died, when I was just fifteen, my dad had started dating stupid Clarissa Athens. A year later, they got married. Yay. I was sixteen then, and everyday I saw her in my house, I felt like punching her in the face.

"That's mom, to you" she said, a tiny bit of acid leading into her voice. I snapped my head towards her, slowly walked down the stairs, and stepped in front of her--my face was about two inches away from hers.

"You will never be my mom. Ever" I hissed slowly. She seemed slightly shocked, but she held her composure. Imbecile.

"I am your mom" she said plainly. Oh no she did not.