The Telekinetic

Chapter Three

Zane experimentally cracked an eye open. His neck didn't ache like it usually did after he slept on the hard thing they called a bed at the orphanage, and as the memories of the previous day came rushing to him, he thought that maybe it had been a dream.

It sure felt like one.

However, the soft pillow that supported his head felt real enough. And the dog barking loudly for some re-

Was that Max?!

Zane scrambled upright. He looked around the unfamiliar room and bolted for the door. The scene that greeted him almost made him pop a blood vessel. His new roommate was giving Max something through the bars, and judging by Max's tail wag, it was probably food.

"What are you feeding him?" Zane asked suspiciously.

"Food designed for dogs." The boy rolled his eyes dubious stare. "You know - dog food."

"Where did you get it? I hope you don't expect me to pay you back."

"No worries, I wasn't expecting anything back," the boy said. "Besides you don't have a card yet, right?"

"A card?" Zane asked he crouched down to pet Max and examine the round dog food he was eating. He still wasn't sure what to make of this whole roommate arrangement, especially the part where he fed Max.

"Yeah, we don't use money on this island. The currency used is Super Points, or SP for short, which is processed by something resembling a debit card. We get a weekly allowance and there are ways to make more by completing missions," his roommate said matter-of-factly. "My name's Rick, by the way. I figure if we're to be roommates we may as well get along." He offered his hand.

Zane eyed his hand warily but couldn't find a fault in his words so took it in a firm shake. "I'm Zane."

"I take it you aren't much of a social type," Rick said with a faint smile. "I've already decided you're on the good guys' side though."

Zane raised a questioning eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, he was on neither side. "Based on what?'

"You having a dog. And you obviously care for it a lot. I can't picture a villain doing that."

"What?" Zane stared in disbelief at the boy and his tremendously flawed logic. Seems like being a good judge of character wasn't required for training superheroes. "If you say so," Zane added with a shrug, uninterested in pointing out how gullible the boy sounded. 

Rick glanced at a watch on his hand and cursed. "We're going to be late for class if you don't hurry up and get ready."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Since you're my roommate we have the same classes. Because Metas are frequently dropped in at random times during the year, there's no set orientation for new arrivals, so they are paired with roommates that have their same exact schedule."

"So...these classes, are they like normal school classes?" Zane asked with a slight scowl. He particularly hated going to school and often skipped until the orphanage was contacted for his poor attendance.

"You're a Meta now, pretty much nothing is normal again. Especially not our classes. We're being trained to be superheroes after all."

Zane hardly resisted rolling his eyes. "What's our first class, then?"

"Super Branding."

"What?"

"It's where we learn how to take control of a situation when civilians are involved; you know, saying the right things to make them calm, also how to talk to media and branding ourselves so that our very appearance instills hope and commands respect," Rick replied as if he was talking about the most important thing in the world.