What It Means To Be Super

Chapter 1

💪Angelo💪

"This is the shit." Bailee shakily handed me a styrofoam coffee cup.

"Coffee?" I asked, taking the cup by my fingertips. I didnt know where that stuff had been.

"No. C'mon, take a shot." She smiled and gestured towards the cup I held.

I tentatively took a sip and cringed at the sharp taste of vodka. It burned as it slid down my throat. I hurriedly handed it back to Bailee. "What the Hell!? Where'd you get your hands on that?"

"Grabbed some from Luke." She laughed. "I already drank most of the bottle. I had to put the rest of it in a coffee cup because otherwise the cops will take it from me."

I just rolled my eyes. Bailee needed to lay off the alcohol. She wasnt a threat to civilians, but she was a threat to herself. "C'mon! We're havin a poker game with recyclables."

I shrugged and followed her into the next alley to Lenny's box, which was flipped over in a makeshift table. Glass and aluminum cans were littered at everyone's feet. They smiled and waved as they saw me and Bailee coming for them.

"Hey, Angelo!" Henry patted my head, messing with my dirty hair.

"Glad you could join us, bud." Patrick smiled, slapping my back.

"Great to see you all here together." I smiled.

"Come. Sit here." Lenny, a 42-year-old war veteran, patted the dirt next to him.

My grin widened and I rubbed my hands together. "So what will I be winnin today, boys?"

There was a bit of playful protests around the table. "Nothing, if we can help it." Gordon--a young, bright-haired runaway--retorted.

"Let's get started."

I'll say, the boys did good. But the fact that I had x-ray vision wasn't lost on me. I played my cards accordingly and ended up winning almost every piece of trash. I tried giving it away to others, but, like always, they rejected it all.

"Go get yourself some pocket change and tell us how your gas station meal turns out." Henry smiled and waved me on. I sadly turned and walked away, only to hide behind the corner to listen in on their conversation.

"Poor kid." Lenny said. "Thrown on the streets so young. His parents are lucky he forget about 'em."

"Yeah." Gordon agreed. "Youngest kid out here. Amazing he's lived this long."

"Every time I see his dirty self I just think that no kid deserves to be punished this badly. What did little Angelo do to upset the universe?" Henry added. They all mutter their agreements.

"Great kid. Even if I ever do best him at poker, I'd give him all my cans. The kid is skinnier than a toothpick." Lenny declared.

I'd heard enough. I headed towards the recycling exchange. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and I'd give my boys something to be thankful for.

I wasn't in a hurry, and as I was walking back from the recycling center with a pocket of change, I heard sirens. "Here we go." I muttered, ducking behind a shed. As fast as I could, (because, as you know, I'm not fortunate enough to have flying or super speed), I pulled on a pair of black dress pants and tied on my mask. As I ran, I attempted to put on my shirt, which was a white baseball jersey that had the number 22 and the name Wundern on the back.

As I arrived at the scene, I set my baseball cap on my head. I was ready. I surveyed the scene. We were at the bank, which was near the park. Police tape lined the perimeter of the bank, and a lot of people were gathered around it.