I never learned how to swim. In upstate new york there's really no need. No one swims in the oceans, and public pool passes were just a luxury my father couldn't afford. It was fine though. There was something about water I didn't trust, how it swells and pools deep and dark until you can't see the bottom. How it smothers your mouth and fills your lungs as it grips your ankles, dragging you down lower and lower and lower. I wasn't a huge fan. If I was, though, I'd imagine that this is what it felt like. Floating. Nothing around for miles, except the hazy darkness. It was comforting, wrapping me up like a blanket. But all good things must come to an end. Consciousness hit me like an ocean wave, strong and furious, with the intent to pound me into the ground. I awoke like I was breaking the surface of a lake after being underwater too long. I probably looked like a mess, gasping for air, grasping for understanding, flinching at the sudden light. My hair had slipped out of its bun, and I could feel tendrils of it tickling my cheeks like seaweed.

            One thing they never tell you about fainting, is how much it disorients you. Upon first waking up I couldn't tell up from down, left from right- hell I couldn't tell you what my name was. The only thing I could focus on was the drumming in my head and the dryness of my throat. I coughed, cringing at the terrible taste on my tongue. The roof of my mouth was coated in ash, thick and bitter. The taste brought on the onslaught of the second wave, memories flashing before my eyes at lightning speed. The explosion, the smokes, the screams, the destruction, the fire, the death. Beth. Beth. Beth was dead. The memories overwhelmed me, encapsulating my body entirely. Thoughts plagued me, berating my brain so hard I wasn't sure if it was the memories or the smoke inhalation making it so hard to breathe. The cruel thoughts squeezed their hands around my neck, tighter and tighter and tighter. Just when my vision started to dim, and I was sure I was going to faint again, a low voice rang out, dragging me from my insanity into the bright grips of reality.

        "Maven, are you awake?"

         I blinked, trying to figure out where the question was coming from. The blurriness started to ease away from my vision, and my thoughts quieted down enough for me to take in my surroundings. It took a few seconds for my brain to fully register where I was. Glass windows, leather seats, a belt strapped across my chest... I was in a car, and a nice one at that. Nicer than anything dad could have afforded, anyway. I struggled to sit up. My limbs screamed in protest, pain flaring in my arms and legs. Horror washed over me as I came to the startling realization that I was restrained. How had I not noticed sooner? My hands were bound tightly behind my back, my legs were securely shackled together by the ankles. The cold metal was cruel, leaving no space for free movement.

        "Maven?" The voice reiterated.

        I flung my head in the direction of my assailant. Slicked brown hair, singed tweed jacket, the home-sewn elbow patches kids made fun of behind his back. Mr. Aiden. My fucking math teacher.

         I opened my mouth to scream, or to cry, or to yell, or something, but before I could, he stopped me. Never once looking away from the road, his perfectly manicured hand reached out and grabbed me. He sunk his nails into the soft flesh of my face, gripping my jaw forcefully. It was apparent he was unafraid of hurting me, I felt blood swell up in the rivlets where his nails pinched.

      "I know this is scary Maven, but I need you to listen to me before you speak. Can you do that for me?" His voice was much less friendly when he wasn't talking about the FOIL method.

      He released his grip, returning both hands to the steering wheel. My head fell forward, no longer relying on him to keep it in place. A drop of blood trickled down my neck, falling onto what little remained of my jeans. If Mr. Aiden fely any remorse for the wound, he didn't show it.

      "Nod if you understand."

        Not quickly forgetting the feeling of nails embedded in my flesh, I complied, nodding my head slowly, afraid he'd do something rash if I moved too fast.

       "Smart move, kid." His voice sounded impossibly even.

        Terror was seeping its way into my skin. I couldn't fathom what was happening, there was no reason for this? Why was I in his car? Why was I restrained? What happened to the fire? To Beth? Was she really dead? The questions peppered my brain to an almost painful extent. What was happening? Why me?

      "I suppose there's no use beating around the bush," A small smile crept along his face, revealing hollywood white teeth. Mr. Aiden's tone had changed. No longer was there ice laced in his words, but now an almost eager understanding. His personality change almost had me reeling. "You are a Genuine."

     "A what?"

       I clamped my mouth shut, biting down on my tongue in the process. The sharp pain of that was soon forgotten though, replaced by a feeling of unease. His smile faltered, a grimace taking its place. Regret filled me immediately. Why had I spoken? I'd literally just promised not to speak. Stupid mistakes like that were how people got murdered in these situations. Panic began to bubble in my chest. What was he going to do to me? How would he react to my sudden outburst.

     "I assure you all of your... questions will be answered in due time."

      He had once told me the same thing during my algebra class, somehow I didn't believe him either time.

      "You are a Genuine." he repeated, slower this time, as if I were incompetent. He looked over waiting for me to interject again. When satisfied I would remain quiet, he went on.

      "In the past 28 years we've noticed a recent... development in the human race. An evolutionary advantage if you will."

     I distinctly remember my biology teacher telling us about evolution. I didn't understand what I had to do with birds and beaks and Galileo.

       "It's predicted that 0.0078% of the population born after the year 2001 have a gene we've identified as The Genuine Disorder."

      I felt my pulse quicken. Disorder? Was there something wrong with me? Was I dying?

      "The Genuine Disorder is a genetic mutation, some of our researchers hypothesize it has come to be because of the pollutants in the atmosphere. The human body sensed that only the strongest could survive, and so it adapted. The Genuine Disorder is a spectrum disorder, like autism. There are some cases where the gene simply enhances a natural ability, and kids like those may never even know they have such a disease. Then there's those of the more severe end, where the disease brings out unearthly traits never before seen," He glanced at me briefly, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

     Maybe the confusion from fainting was still muddling my brain, because I had no clue what he was talking about. There was a beat before I fully realized he was waiting for me to respond.

    "Uh. No." I said meekly.

     He sighed, taking one hand off of the wheel to rub his temples, as if my stupidity physically pained him.

      "They have... powers, Maven. Abilities like those seen in books or movies."

      "Powers?!" I spluttered, absolutely refusing to believe what I was hearing. This guy was crazy! Absolutely insane! I was being kidnapped by a mad man, and all my self preservation skills flew out the window. Did he honestly expect me to believe, what, that I was wolverine or some shit?

     "Maven-"

      "Like Superman? Or Harry Potter? What are you gonna tell me next, I'm the chosen one destined to defeat some evil force?" I scoffed in absolute disbelief.

     "Ah... perhaps I should explain better."

     "Ah... perhaps you should! What the fuck are you talking about? Because so far this all sounds batshit crazy. Is this a cult thing or some shit?"

      I expected him to be furious at my outcry, but at that point I was too fed up to care any longer. I was in the middle of being kidnapped, throwing caution to the wind might not have been the smartest idea, but it was the only one keeping me sane.

    "Maven" he scolded, "This will only work if you cooperate."

     "And what if I won't?" I jutted my chin out, feeling stupid bravery well up in my chest.

     "Then you're a threat. And threats have to be... eliminated."

      I felt the blood run out of my face. My bravery sunk to my toes. Eliminated? And what was it with him and those damn ellipses.

    "You're going to kill me?" I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper.

     "No, Maven. In fact, quite the opposite."

     "What do you mean?"

    "Do you remember how I was telling you about the spectrum of the disorder?"

      I nodded, recalling the first mention of powers.

     "Well, you have the most severe case of the Genuine Disorder that we have ever seen."

      My thoughts stood still. Was that... a good thing? A bad thing? I didn't know what he meant. His words were jumbling around in my brain in knots so tight that I wanted to cry.

   "What?" I breathed out.

   "You're very special, Maven. We've suspected you might be for a while."

    "We?" I asked tentatively.

    "The U.S. government. We've been watching you for a long time."

    "But, Why?"

    "We need you Maven."

    I didn't know how he knew to say those words, but I felt them in my heart. Every syllable stabbing me like a dull knife. My entire life I'd longed to be wanted, prayed to be needed, and here he was answering all my dreams, with a pair of handcuffs.

    "Me?"

    "Yes, you," His voice had turned softer then. Kinder. It was the tone he took on for struggling students, or the stories he told us in class about his wife and his daughters. "There's a place we help kids like you. A military academy where we train young Genuines to use their powers for the better. That's where I'm taking you now."

    A laugh bubbled out of my throat, and Mr. Aiden looked at me confused.

    "What?" He inquired, not unkindly.

    "It's just, first you tell me I have powers, and now you're taking me to some superhero school. It's a little crazy.

    "It's not a school for superheroes. It's a place for children with a disorder to be in an institute that can properly care for them," The corners of his lips tugged up, "But yes I suppose it is a bit crazy."

    Some of the fear filtered out of me. I didn't know why, but my gut told me it was true. That it was ok. Maybe I was just so in love with the prospect of belonging, I turned lucid. I calmed down. Took a breath. And willed myself to believe what Mr. Aiden was saying. I did have more questions, though.

    "Then why am I restrained?"

    "Some Genuines don't take kindly to the academy at first, and with how abrupt your leave was, I didn't want to take any chances, especially with a disorder as severe as yours. We have about 17 more hours until we arrive in Oregon, but when we stop for gas in a couple hours I'll remove them, so long as you promise your cooperation."

    That made sense, and I almost found it in my heart to ignore the metal for now. Much more important questions were running through my mind.

    "You said I have powers. What can I do?" I asked, desperate to know.

    He tore his eyes away from the road and looked at me, and for the first time I noticed a smudge of soot on his cheek.

    "Power. Singular," He corrected, "And I have a feeling you already know."

    I felt a flicker in my heart then, a flame of recognition. A spark of understanding. Electric smoke ran through my veins in an excited shiver.

    "I think you're right."