The People with Useless Power

Beginning of Second Part

"Calloway!"

Calloway spun around, his crystal-blue doe eyes glimmering, as usual. Sparrow regarded his suit and rolled her black, dead eyes, slamming her body against the lockers with a metal crash.

"Hey," he smirked, "any luck finding those other parents of yours?"

She shook her head, her magenta hair swaying, and let out a sigh. "I don't see how a kid could have three parents, Calloway, even if one of mine is the almighty Mara."

Calloway stood next to her, running his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, and accidentally plucked out a few purple ends.

Students rushed in front of their feet, hurrying to their last classes, and Sparrow frowned as Chris made his way through the crowd at yell at them. "Go to history, Sparrow, we need to move!"

"See you at my house later?" Sparrow called, being dragged off by the pink-haired menace, and Calloway snickered, nodding and walking off by himself to his business class.

...

"The battle of Imperium Mortem Valley was the last battle of World War One," Sparrow rushed out just as the bell rang, and the people around her gave her weird looks as they packed up their bags. She blushed, looking down and frowning.

Ever since she found out one of her moms was the most powerful being to ever live, she'd been a bit of a history buff. To say the least.

Sparrow lost count of the hours she'd spent curled up in her favorite chair in the living room, reading and rereading one paragraph in one of her books: "Mara Morningstar was thought to be in two relationships over her years: one with the late Emma Taylors, and one with the current president, Emily Houston. Houston has spent years denying this claim, saying, "We were, like, close friends for, like, a week. Seriously? Get your head out of your-"

She wasn't going to continue with that thought.

Sparrow knew it probably wasn't the President. But, really, Emily Houston was her only lead, her only alive one. And it would be super cool if she was her mom.

Emma Taylors was dead, and Sparrow had yet to learn any more about her.

And that was going to change tonight.

...

"Evan! Get in here!" Sparrow yelled from the doorway of her room. Her cousin, Evan, ran up the stairs immediately, his brown hair wrapped up in a towel, and a charcoal mask graced his delicate features. He sat back on her bed and gazed up at the map on her wall.

"When are the others coming?" Evan stuttered, but Sparrow simply rolled her eyes.

"Just leave us alone, okay? We're just studying."

"For your powers?" he asked, crossing his arms, and Sparrow frowned. "Yeah, I have leftover cookies from the party at school. If you let me in, I'll hand them out." When she sighed and shrugged, he smiled brightly.

"Grayson's coming over with Calloway in a second, you can make tea for him. You know how he gets these days." As Evan rushed downstairs, the doorbell echoed back up, and Sparrow ran down after it, fumbling with the locks and throwing it open.

A wary man stood in the doorway, his pigmentation gone. Grayson.

Calloway stood next to him, a couple inches shorter, and he set his briefcase on a table, hugging his father goodbye. Evan ran out, spilling tea on his shirt and handing a cup to Gray, who smiled, thanked him politely, and gave Calloway the tea instead.