Isabelle's POV

Time to get home, eat an early dinner, and lie to my aunt and cousin. Hooray.

I didn't like having to make up fake scenarios to mislead Aunt Patricia and my cousin Cara. It pained me to keep them in the dark, but it was necessary. If my aunt knew I was a superhero...

     As soon as I got home, I noticed the window was still broken. Why didn't Static Steele pay me back for collateral damage or something?

"The nerve of these guys," I muttered. "Is Crane Creek always this chaotic? I moved out of the city to avoid this kind of nonsense!"

Using my telekinesis, I unlocked the door quickly since I'd forgotten my house key earlier.

     In case a complete and total dunce is reading this, yes, I am Levitation. The emotion-reading, telekinetic, and of course drop-dead gorgeous heroine. (Hey, what's wrong with a little self-confidence?)

After fighting the villain Geyser a few hours ago, I changed out of my super suit in the bathroom of the Mexican restaurant, stuffing the Levitation outfit into my backpack. Having a pack with my normal clothes or my super-suit in it was pretty convenient when I needed to quickly change into one or the other.

As soon as I walked through the door, I heard my aunt yelling, "Food's ready! Come get it while it's hot!"

     "Mom, it's only four-thirty." Cara, my older cousin by two years, reminded my aunt. She quickly added, "Uh, not that I'm complaining."

As soon as Aunt Patricia saw my face, she rushed over to greet me. My aunt was a tall, stoutly-built woman with gray beginning to streak her black hair and a darker skin tone than mine. She'd been a police officer in Crane Creek for seventeen years.

     "Isabelle, where have you been?!" She questioned, cupping her hands to my cheeks.

    I looked her in the face, our irises contrasting in color—mine a light shade of blue, hers a beautiful dark brown.

    "I was, uh..."

Not for the first time, the flow of words shut off as if my vocal cords had filled with wet cement. Even with my empathy powers, lying never came easy to me.

Aunt Patricia took a sharp breath.

"There's a bruise on your face!" She exclaimed, touching the mark gingerly. I must've gotten it while fighting Geyser earlier. Truthfully, I hadn't even noticed the injury.

    "What happened?" My aunt asked.

"I... I got mugged." I blurted, too desperate to think of a less concerning story. I mentally slapped myself.

"WHAT?!" My aunt demanded, loud enough to prompt Cara to clap her palms over her ears.

Time to see how fast I could spin this lie. "The mugger punched me because I didn't have any money on me, but then he pulled out a knife, so I kicked him between the legs and ran as fast as I could. My phone was out of battery, so I couldn't call you for help," I explained in one breath.

My aunt was quiet for a moment as she absorbed that information, and my cousin just raised her eyebrows.

     Aunt Patricia wrapped me in a hug. "I'm glad you're safe, baby."

     "Thanks," I muttered, tears running down my face.

"Isn't the food still in the oven?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. If one thing distracted my Aunt Patricia from uncomfortable conversations, it's food. My uncle was a retired chef, so she took cooking very seriously. He'd died a long time ago, but she kept all his recipes intact over the years.

Aunt Patricia snapped into action, slipping an oven mitt over her hand and carefully extracting the meatloaf dish. She served up the homemade meat and baked potatoes.

     Twenty minutes later, the majority of that meatloaf was sitting uncomfortably in my stomach, and I was on the verge of puking from sheer anxiousness at the close call.

     "Thanks, Auntie. Love you. I'm going to bed." I mumbled to my aunt, heading up the beige-colored carpeted stairs. I heard Cara turn the shower on. She always left it on too hot. Once I forgot to turn it to a normal temperature, and the water came out scalding.

     I was about to sit down on my bed when I heard a series of taps on my window. A person with average senses wouldn't have noticed the noise, but with my enhanced hearing, it was obnoxiously loud.

I reluctantly shifted my gaze to the window, where Static Steele perched like a hawk on the sill. Huffing with irritation, I strode to the window, looking at the heel-clad hero.

     Him again? I must be popular in this town already.

     "You're lucky my cousin takes long showers." I said. "How'd you get up here, anyways?"

    "I have my ways," he said vaguely.

     I opened the window for him, raising an eyebrow.

    "Can I come in?" He asked with an unmistakable tremor in his voice. "I'm, uh, scared of heights."

     I looked at him semi-approvingly. "Some heroes back in my old city wouldn't admit that they have fears. Not the egotistical ones, at least. Come on in."

     He hopped into my room, sighing with relief.

     "So..." I said, a hand on my hip. "Why are you here?"

     Static Steele tapped his thigh nervously. "I just, um, wanted to make sure you were okay. After what happened last night, I wasn't sure how you'd take it. Sorry for being weird. I didn't want to scare your family."

    I smiled sweetly. "Thanks, but my cousin's shower-singing is more terrifying than any supervillain. And there's more to me than meets the eye."

     For a heartbeat he was silent. A sprinter's heartbeat, that is.

     "You're Levitation." Static Steele deduced. "I knew there was a reason Pariah attacked you. He told me he had 'business' with you."

"Congratulations, Static Steele! You win... absolutely nothing," I said, rolling my eyes.

    Then the last part of his statement penetrated. "What do you mean by business, exactly?"

     The masked boy shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know the details. Next thing that happened, he pulled out a knife and came in here to kill you. He has super speed and some kind of fear-based powers."

     I couldn't mask a shiver. To think, I had nearly been murdered just last night.

     "Do you wanna stay for dinner?" I asked, only flirting a little bit. "We have beef and potatoes downstairs."

    He shook his head. "Thanks for offering. No, I already ate. And I should get home soon. Otherwise, I would have to explain to your parents why a superhero is strolling into their house."

    I flinched without meaning to when he said the word parents.

     "I—I live with my aunt," I said shakily. "My parents are... Can you just...?"

    Thankfully, he took the hint, nodded vigorously, and looked uneasily at the window.

    "I don't want to jump." He whispered.

Feeling sorry for the guy, I used my telekinesis to lower him to the lawn twenty feet below. I watched as he ran, off towards his own home.

I sat down, cradled my head in my hands, and tried to remember my mother's face as tears streamed down my cheeks.