Free Mayhem by Artist Arthur

for.”
    She’s right, I know. But it feels pretty good to get the best of Mateo and Pace for a change. I’m sick of them bullying me just because they think they can. I’m tired of the wisecracks and the pranks and the embarrassment I’ve endured for years because of them. Why shouldn’t I be able to fight back? What good is this power if I can’t do anything for myself?
    Those questions race through my mind as I go from class to class. I don’t see a problem with using my powers to get even,and for once in my life come out on top. I know we agreed not to flaunt our powers and I respect that, but it’s time I take a stand.
    It’s time Mateo and Pace and pea-brained bullies like them get what’s coming to them.
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    â€œAre you okay?” Sasha asks Lindsey when we all sit down at the lunch table the next day.
    I’ve been in a strange mood, feeling like I’m expecting something but not sure what. During morning classes I was pretty anxious, and once when I looked toward the window I saw the raven. It’s like it’s no longer watching me, but following me. I guess if it were a dog, I’d take it in—you know, man’s best friend and all that. It’s kind of different with a bird, a raven at that. Still, it belongs to me now and I belong to it. Again, that’s not something I’m anxious to tell the girls. Both Sasha and Krystal have had confrontations with birds, so they’re afraid of them. Lindsey hasn’t been fortunate enough to meet them face-to-face. But I’m sure telling them one in particular—because I know it’s the same one each time I see it—has been following me on a pretty daily basis now would not go over well.
    â€œI’m fine,” Lindsey answers.
    Her answer doesn’t ring true, probably not to any of us. She’s wearing black again, all black this time. Black skinny jeans, black ballerina flats, a black T-shirt and a long black sweater that actually looks too hot to have on the second week of September. When she stepped off the school bus this morning she was even wearing her large-framed black shades. The sun wasn’t out; in fact, it was a gloomy, overcast day. I get the feeling she’s hiding from something.
    â€œYou look like you’re in mourning,” Krystal says, opening her lunch bag and pulling out her sandwich and a Sprite.
    Sasha’s already opening her bag, setting her plastic Baggies of carrots and celery sticks to the side while unwrapping her ham-and-cheese sandwich.
    It’s kind of weird having only girls for friends. Watching their habits gives me some insight into the species, not that I know what to do with all that information. But Sasha’s mom has her on this healthy kick so everything she eats is full of vitamins and good stuff. I think Casietta, Sasha’s old housekeeper, used to let her slack a little. But Casietta’s been gone for about four months now. I know Sasha misses her so I try not to bring it up, even though I’m wondering why Sasha’s Guardian would leave her now, when it seems like we’d need guarding the most. I think it’s connected to her father’s and Franklin’s father’s disappearance, too. However, I note there’s ham in Sasha’s sandwich today and I wonder how she convinced her mother to let her have that.
    Krystal doesn’t eat a lot. When we first started having lunch with her she didn’t eat at all. Now she does take a few bites out of whatever sandwich she has and drinks her entire Sprite everyday. Krystal’s mom is a little more lenient in what Krystal eats, but she’s becoming a little fanatical about the church and religion thing. It’s rubbing off on Krystal, too, because now when we talk about the evil stalking us she usually brings up the origins of good and evil as learned through the Bible. The similarities are startling, but I’m not sure there’s