Free Powered by Cheyanne Young Page B

get inside Central?” I think aloud. After today, I know firsthand how much it sucks to be denied access into one area of Central. I can’t imagine why a villain who’s been cut off from every locked door would want to break in.
    Pepper sucks in a deep breath and quickly exhales. “Six miles,” he says, throwing his arms into the air. I straighten in my chair as he jumps off his and crosses the room in a flash, dropping the wet handkerchief in his wake. “Six. Miles.” The room thunders out an echo as he yells the words in his deep voice. “That is unacceptable.” Turning on his heel, he looks at me. Daggers of rage shoot from his eyes. The air around me sharpens as his power intensifies.
    He points a finger at me. “You.”
    For one paralyzing moment I fear he will accuse me of somehow being involved in this.
    “You scored higher on Speed Aptitude than any Super has in a century . You could have prevented this.”
    “I—what?” The examiners simply nodded and thanked me the day before my birthday when I performed a series of aptitude tests prior to my exam. I know I’m a faster runner than my brother is but I always figured that’s because I’m smaller and lighter. Am I really the fastest out of everyone?
    Pepper paces with his head in his hands. “The attacks are happening more in the last two weeks. They are closer to home. An innocent Super died today.” He stops a few feet in front of me. “You should be Hero.” His hand grazes my cheek as I stand dumbfounded and unable to speak. “You should have been a Hero,” he whispers.
    My heart stops. My throat fills with a ball of pure pain. I manage to force a few words out of my mouth. “What are you saying?”
    Pepper’s hazel eyes fill with sorrow. “You need to leave now.”
    I swallow, taking a step backward as my heart shatters into a million pieces. That’s it then. I’m not a Hero.
    I have nothing left to live for.
    Pepper’s hand closes over mine as I grab the door handle to leave. I can’t look at him, not like this. “What?” I say through clenched teeth while staring at my reflection in the door.
    “Don’t just accept your fate,” he says. “The world needs you.”
    “There’s nothing I can do.” I summon enough power to shove him away from me. He tumbles into a shelf of fabric swatches.
    “Is that what they taught you in Hero school?” He says, straightening his ruffled suit as I wrench open the door and step into the corridor. “Or has someone forgotten Hero rule number three?”
    I ignore him as I break into a run, wanting nothing more than to collapse in my bed and cry. But ignoring only gets me so far, and soon I’m thinking of his words as I sprint through miles of underground tunnels with nothing around me but my own thoughts.
    Hero rule number three:
    Heroes never give up.

 
     
     
    Dad and Max aren’t home when I arrive three hours later. I hadn’t intended to run for so long but once I got going I didn’t want to stop. Stopping means a return to reality—a chance to catch up with everything you’re trying to leave behind. Stopping is for the weak.
    But I kind of had to stop once I wore a hole in my crotch.
    The thin fabric of my sweatpants only held up for so long as my legs ran speeds that are apparently faster than everyone else. I’m grateful the guys aren’t home to see me crash through the front door, drenched in sweat with saggy pants revealing my hot-pink underwear.
    When I’m showered and wearing whole pieces of clothing again, I sink into the couch and flip on the television. And—wow—is it seven o’clock already?
    A candlelit vigil displays on the screen as the camera pans across a crowd of my peers all gathered in a stunning display of sympathy for Sara Sommer. I hurl myself off the couch and dash into my closet for something decent to wear.
    Royal purple leggings and a silver tank top with the King City crown logo call out to me from my closet. I slip into the clothes and tousle my hair,