GENRE: YA Science Fiction
Most Ones start with an ability everyone thinks will turn into a superpower. A really fast runner might have muscles that can’t take the strain after a few seconds. Or a kid who can stretch an arm out really far will wait days for it to pull back into place. They put up with getting teased at Superhero High, waiting for their Second – in those cases, enhanced muscle power or elasticity - to show up. While they do, that One power starts to fade. There are still shimmers of it, but after a while the kid quits trying and the One fizzles into nothingness.
Then their parents ship them off to Normal High, like mine did. Here’s my secret: I never quit trying.
Most nights at dusk and some mornings before sunrise, I practice. I push myself off the ground, telling my body to go weightless, and hover there, an inch, two, six, then a foot. I stay there for seconds, then minutes.
I can’t generate enough tension between my body and the air to take a step - can’t even make myself drift. I’d give anything to be able to float along like a freaking ghost. For a long time, I tried to move. Once I tried so hard my muscles strained, then burned, then ached, then trembled, and I hovered there behind the shed, weeping and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, until I heard Dad come out the back door to look for me. Then I collapsed on the grass.