SUPER-OKAY

TEN

CHAPTER TEN:
With Great Power

Ross stirred awake at the sound of light footsteps pattering up and down the floor outside his bedroom. A groan involuntarily left his lips as he stretched and reached out for his phone on his nightstand. Noticing he only had a minute until his alarm went off, he decided to silence it and get ready for the day.

He dragged his feet to his closet, where he grabbed a random shirt and shrugged it on over his torso. After locating a pair of jeans, Ross stumbled over to his bedroom door and, lacking the energy to open the door, leaned his head against it with a sigh. Eyes closed, he imagined himself getting ready in the bathroom, but his body felt too worn out to actually move. Football practice after football practice, plus the stress of his newfound telepathy, have been weighing him down more than he'd want to admit. He dreaded practice that night, knowing that as soon as he slipped up and made a mistake he'd spiral.

Ross forced his eyes open again and stepped back from the door. He stopped with his hand over the doorknob. His bedroom door was a simple, stained, wooden door. The one in front of him was painted white.

He whipped his head around and almost fell back against the door as he realized he was in his bathroom, not his bedroom.

"Not again," he muttered. This was more than just him forgetting that he walked somewhere, which was the excuse he used the last three times he "magically" appeared somewhere else than where he was supposed to be. Ross didn't know how to react. He'd already discovered a supernatural ability, he'd already been through the initial denial and then disorienting shock.

He was still figuring out how to deal with his telepathy problem, and now he had to deal with this—what, teleportation? None of it seemed possible. Yet, it was. It had to be.

Ross's eyes lifted to the mirror in front of him. His shoulders were slumped, his fists clenched, his eyes red. Dark bags underlined his eyes. "Or I'm just crazy," he whispered to himself.

He shook his head and sluggishly pulled himself together under the fluorescent lights of the small bathroom, choosing to just accept his new reality instead of pushing it away again. After a few minutes, he pushed out of the bathroom and set off towards the kitchen. His steps slowed as thoughts filtered into his brain.

I'm gonna get him so good.

Ross stalled outside the doorway to the kitchen. He leaned in slightly to hear his brother's thoughts more clearly.

I can't wait to see his face when I scare him.

A smile fought its way onto Ross's face. In a split second decision, he closed his eyes and imagined he was behind his brother, in the kitchen. He opened his eyes. Bingo. Ross reached out, careful not to step on a creaky tile in the kitchen floor, and grasped his brother's arms.

"Boo!"

Jack let out a shrill scream and whipped around. Ross couldn't help the loud, boisterous laugh that escaped. As Jack's fear-stricken eyes met his brother's, he punched him feebly in the stomach. Ross clutched his abdomen and feigned being in pain.

"How did you do that?" the younger boy gasped, falling into a fit of giggles. Ross laughed along with him and shrugged.

"I can teleport," he replied nonchalantly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Uh huh, sure."

"No, really," Ross insisted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you being mean to your brother?"

Both boys looked up at their mother as she entered the room, hair in a bundle on the top of her head and old wired glasses perched on her nose. She eyed her sons suspiciously. Their laughter had woken her up, which she would admit was a nice change from Jack complaining about something Ross did, or Ross asking where his football bag was.