Project 8

1. Radioactive

Jay woke up with a particularly bad headache.

He was lying in his bed, grabbing his forehead. He groaned, checking his phone. The time was six o'clock, and he had about a dozen text from Alisa and Damian, his two best friends. He groaned again and sat up. His phone rang, and after looking to see who it was, he answered it. "Damian, we have an hour before school, can't this wait?"

"Turn on the TV." Damian said. "Or your laptop. It's all over the local news."

"What's all over--"

"Just do it!"

Jay grunted. "De loca." He murmured, then grabbed his laptop on his bedside. He opened it, searching up the local news, and there was a live broadcast. Some blonde dude was on-screen, reporting in front of a high school, where an entire mob of parents were holding signs. The blonde reporter was speaking now. Jay turned up the volume on his Beats.

"--on the scene of Dusk Spring High School in San Diego, where parents are not at all pleased with the Evolved Humans attending school with their children, starting this morning." The man said. He walked up to a woman protester, the camera following. "Ma'am, what are your thoughts on the subject?"

"I want those freaks out of our school!" The woman said angrily. "I don't want any of them near my children! Take them somewhere else but near our normal kids!"

"Damn." Jay said, frowning.

"No shit, damn." Damian muffled over the phone. "Get ready, I'm gonna pick you and Alisa up."

"Aight.." Jay said. He hung up his phone, then stood up and went to get ready.

He took a shower, pulled on a gray wife beater, black joggers, and his worn boots. He sat back down on his bed, looking at his laptop again. The crowd had somehow gotten bigger. "Ay dios mio." He shook his head.

"Mijo!" Yelled the voice of his mother downstairs. "Desayuno!"

Jay closed his laptop and pushed it into his pack, then left his room and trudged downstairs, where he could smell breakfast. He walked into the kitchen, where his mom was just finishing three plates. "Morning." He said, grabbing an apple off the counter.

She snatched it from him. "No. You eat breakfast."

"Come on, mama." He pleaded.

"I say no." She said. She still had a thick Spanish accent, though she'd been living in America for over half of her life. "You and your friends will eat. I need to speak with you three."

The doorbell rang. Jay walked back and opened the door. His best friends Alisa Glade and Damian Graham. Damian was black, his hair short but kinda spiky, about as muscular as Jay. He wore a Bulls Jersey that was way bigger than him, baggy jeans, and converses. Alisa was mixed, her skin lighter, her hair semi-long and curly, dark brown with a couple bleach blonde strands. She wore a big gray knit-sweater, ripped jeans, and black boots.

"Morning." Damian smiled.

"Yo." Jay stepped out of the way, and the two of them stepped inside. Both boys clasped hands in a short handshake, while Alisa watched them and rolled her eyes. The three of them walked into the kitchen, where Jay's mother waited.

"Something smells good, Ms. Vega." Alisa smiled.

"Thank you, Alisa!" Jay's mother smiled. She shot Jay a glare. "At least someone appreciates my cooking." Jay reluctantly took his plate of food, leaning against the wall and looking at the TV, while Alisa sat down on his armchair, and Damian sat on the couch. The news was still reporting the protest. Jay looked at the protesters, taking a bite of bacon.