Jackson Humes is Not a Superhero

CHAPTER ONE

Although the classroom was slightly chilly, I was sitting in a pool of my own sweat. I was fairly certain I had shed a good ten pounds of water weight since the start of class and was probably one good sneeze away from becoming seriously dehydrated.

My transformation into the human equivalent of a leaky sprinkler was all due to a ginormous wrestler named Alex Cole. Throughout sixth period Spanish class, Alex had been cracking his meaty knuckles and sending me not so subtle signals that I was a dead man walking. I had never given religion much thought, but it seemed like a good time to start praying.

I had attracted Alex's wrath quite by accident. Being one of only two out gay guys in a sometimes not-so-open-minded school meant having to fly under the radar in terms of locker room usage. Normally I changed in one of the bathroom stalls, but since gym class fell right after lunch this year I figured I would arrive early and avoid the trauma of trying not to step on the urine splattered floor.

I was walking over to the same locker I had used freshman year when I accidentally caught sight of Alex flexing in front of a mirror, wearing nothing but a pair of dingy tighty whities. It didn't help matters that I'd been texting, which probably made it appear as if I'd been snapping pictures of him like some sort of perv. I tried explaining the situation, but Alex was more of a violent Neanderthal type than the listening type. Since then, my prospects of making it to the end of sophomore year had dwindled considerably.

Alex's threats towards me had gone completely unnoticed by my classmates because they were all too busy passing notes to Candice who'd forgotten to drop her cell phone into the basket at the beginning of class. As the only conduit to the outside world, the usually unnoticed president of the knitting club was basking in her massive rise in popularity. She was the center of attention at the moment because everyone was dying to find out if there had been any news regarding Marv Morgan, the school's senior star quarterback who had mysteriously vanished in the woods three days ago.

A missing student in our boring town was a big deal. The fact that a mountain lion had been spotted in the same area he was last seen, and all that had been found of Marv so far were his tattered clothes scattered about the campgrounds, had led to the type of feverish gossip that only gained momentum with each passing hour. About a dozen conspiracy theories, most involving a ridiculous kidnapping plot by our school's rival football team, had already gained traction online.

When I arrived to school this morning, the football team and cheerleaders had already converted Marv's locker into a shrine where students were urged to congregate to share stories, hold prayer circles, and openly weep. Sure, Marv was the hottest and most popular guy at school and blah blah blah, but from the way everyone was carrying on you would have thought the planet was about to get wiped out by a giant meteor.

Not helping calm the frayed nerves of the entire student body were the notices plastered all over the school warning us to stay out of the woods or risk certain death. It was definitely a helluva start to the new school year.

By the time the final three minutes of class began ticking down, I was a frantic, disheveled mess. I had completely tuned out Mr. Rodriguez to formulate my escape plan, deciding to sacrifice my phone by leaving it in the basket, which would save me a few precious seconds. I was just hoping the big wrestler's bulk would slow him down long enough for me to escape.

As soon as the bell rang I bolted out of the classroom and booked it to the parking lot in record time. I double and triple checked the spot where my brother had parked his pickup truck that morning, but his car was gone. I was weighing my options on what to do next when I saw Alex sprinting straight for me. I desperately scanned the area for a teacher, security guard, or even a lunch lady, but there was no one around. Cornered and out of options, I ran straight for the exit and into the woods.