Perspective

Chapter Three; Flynn

Thursday couldn't come soon enough. As soon as the final bell rings to signify the end of the day, I am out of my seat and bolting out of school. Antonio has rehearsal, so I don't have to worry about him, and I told Veronica I had a huge load of homework, so she was fine with not coming anywhere with me- so long as I promised to host our weekly hangouts tomorrow.

Last night I had talked to Sam more, and we decided on a coffee shop that is about a ten minute walk from school. He made sure we were going to a popular cafe, that would have a good number of people there so I could be at ease; he would not be able to kidnap me in such a crowded place. I charged my phone anyway- I'm pretty sure I'll be fine, but I like to stay on the side of caution for things like that.

The streets are crowded, cars of teachers and students alike trying to get out- I think there is some sort of event tonight at a bowling alley, so everyone is in a bigger hurry than usual to go home. I think that it's a pretty bad reason to be in such a rush- but hey, maybe it will be really fun, and I'll be the one missing out... I doubt it.

The walk to the coffee shop is boring. It's warm, and that's about all there is to it- but when isn't it warm in Florida? I'm able to pass all the kids my age with little issues; no one really pays me any mind, which I am fine with. I can hear some commotion down a busy street, but it's nothing to be concerned of, from what I can tell, there are police breaking up at fight between teenagers. Typical.

I'm happy to finally reach the store. As the door opens, a rush of cold runs over me, and I almost sigh in relief. As much as I liked the heat, it was an absolute bitch to walk in- almost always leaving me sticky. I don't know how people go on runs in this heat; it'd be horrible. I see someone lightly wave me over. Based of their clothes, I normally wouldn't pay any mind to them; this guy looks like he's fifty, but I recognize his face from his profile picture, so I happily go to sit across from him.

"You're Ms. McCarthy, I assume?" He immediately prompts. I'm hardly given enough time to actually situate myself.

I nod, "and you're Doctor Harrison," I don't pose it as a question- he obviously is, otherwise he wouldn't know my name.

"Just call me Sam, Doctor is far too formal." He starts, "So, you want to find out if you have powers, right?"

"No. I know I have powers, I want to know what they are." My response is firm, certain. There isn't a hint of questioning, like if I actually do have powers.

Sam barks a laugh, "You're quite confident in this, huh? Alright, I'm sure I can try some things."

The man sorta looks like what you'd expect Santa Claus to look like: he's pale, with flushed cheeks and a red nose, his stomach is larger than normal, and his hair is wispy and greyed. I would find it a lot more funny if he wasn't doing me such a service.

"What do you have in mind?"

Suddenly, he gets more serious. "I have a few methods. One is training vigilantly, every day; rain or shine. No 'ifs' 'ands' or 'buts'." I think the expression on my face tells the doctor that I disapprove of the option, because he grins before continuing, "I can do a blood test, but it's not completely accurate, and it's supposedly extremely draining." I shrug noncommittally, "The last way is a serum that allows us to monitor your psychnegonal hormones, as well as the kinesthastion and your vitals. The downfall is it can give you lasting symptoms of the flu, that only goes away a few weeks after injection."

I ponder the choices. My gut says to go with the last one, but the logical part of my brain is louder, and makes me ask, "What's it cost?"

Sam almost appears surprised, as though my question is uncalled for, but he recovers flawlessly, "They're quite pricey, but I'm willing to make you a deal." I hum, indicating for him to continue, "If your test ends up resulting positive, you'll only need to pay fifty dollars. I also must be your instructor- this is the chance I've been waiting for.