How Does a Superhero End Up in Detention?

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 (Skye POV)

“Fuck off Hazard” an angry voice said as he shoved my books to the floor. I glared at him as he walked off, flanked by his only two friends, Blaze Taylor and Runner Oliver.

“Whoa, Skye what happened to you?” my best friend, Wesley Mede, asked, picking up my books.

“Jax Bennett happened” I scowled after them.

“I swear I’m gunna beat the shit outta him some day” Wesley muttered.

“Come on Wes, just forget about it” I said and took my books from him. Wesley sighed, but nodded in understanding.

“Where’s your next class?” he asked.

“Psychology, upstairs” I replied.

“I’ll walk you there” Wesley smiled.

“Won’t you be late?”

“Really? When have I ever gave a damn about being late?” he smirked.

“Got me there” I laughed.

I’d known Wesley since freshmen year. He came along after my old friends ditched me for being too depressing after the murder of my dad. I’ll explain that later. Wesley was basically my 5’11, brown haired, brown eyed savior. Without him I would’ve gone off the deep end for sure. He was muscular, not overly like those nasty guys in the muscle magazines, but athletically muscular. Well, I guess her had to be as the star running back on the football team. Every girl in the school, well minus me, had a major crush on him. He’s been called the outcast heartthrob.

“Have fun playing shrink” he smirked and left me at the door. The bell rang and I watched him sprint down the hallway. I laughed to myself and turned around to see my psychology teacher. She looked pissed, as always. I swear this lady PMS’s 24/7 all 365 days of the year.

“Done Miss Hazard?” she asked and crossed her arms.

“Yes Mrs. Thomas” I said in my best sweet, innocent voice.

“Then take your seat Miss Hazard.”

That was me, Skye Hazard. I’ve lived in the city of Honorarie all of my life. It’s about half the size of New York City, so, it’s still quite big. I have blonde hair, grey eyes, and am about 5’5. I absolutely love to draw and can’t live without my 5 gum or my iPod.

So all and all I seem pretty normal right? Wrong. I’m a superhero. No, not the kind in the comic books that always seem to have their boobs pushed up amazingly high, I’m a little more, um, tasteful. I do have superpowers though. From the minimal research I’ve done, I’ve figured out that the ‘power gene’ runs in families. My dad passed the special gene to me, his only child. I am an electricity manipulator and a technopath. Electricity manipulator means I can control electricity; and a technopath is someone who can control technology with their mind. It comes in handy when you’re too lazy to use the T.V. remote, press the buttons on the microwave, or just live alone. 

I’ve live alone on my 21st story flat for about two years now, since my dad died. My dad, better known as Mr. Bigshot, was murdered by the super villains that infest the streets of Honorarie. He was the hero before me, to both the city and to myself. My dad had super strength and defended the city for years before they got him.

After my dad died, we covered it up as a car crash to keep his identity and mine a secret; my mom went off the deep end. Six months after his death she was all set up to marry a young hot-shot, but he left her for a 25-year-old tramp. After that my mom spiraled into depression. She intentionally overdosed and ended up in the mental hospital. I only go visit her twice a year, Christmas and her birthday. She’s been locked up for about a year and a half, and saying that I got a call last week that she tried to kill herself, again, she won’t be getting out any time soon.