I FOLLOWED MS. HENDERSON down to another floor. She punched in her key code, and a large set of black, windowless doors slid open for us. They closed after we entered, and I walked to the center of the wide room.

How could I explain this place? It felt like we were in a secret bunker in the middle of nowhere, not in one of the top levels of a skyscraper.  The floor was some dark blue material similar to a firm gymnastics mat. There were no windows, the walls were black, and the ceiling was high. The vents gave off a dreary, loud hum.

I shrugged off my backpack and left it on the floor, leaning it against a wall. I whistled, and the noise echoed sharply. "So, what do you mean by testing?" I asked.

"Before you attempt something fatal, like jumping off a building when you can't actually fly," she said, shaking her pen to get the ink out, "we need to know exactly what you can do."

I looked around the room again. There was a large closet, but I couldn't see what was behind its closed doors. However she was testing me, I didn't know. "What first?" I asked.

"This is a long shot, but can you fly?"

I took off my shoes and socks, feeling more comfortable with my bare feet on the mat. I stared down, wiggling my toes. How was I supposed to test this? I jumped in the air, feeling ridiculous, but I landed back on my feet and shook my head.

She took notes on her clipboard.

I was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that it was just us in the room. She was the head of the company; I was expecting her to have assistants who would help her with this, but it was just us, and Kavanagh wasn't even back yet with whoever Jenny was. The only explanation I could come up with was that maybe she didn't want all her employees to know what was going on. She was trying to keep it contained to a small group.

The doors opened, and in came Kavanagh. Trailing behind him was the woman from the train. A triumphant expression that clearly said, I knew it!, overtook her face. I understood then that she told Ms. Henderson what happened on the train, and that was how they tracked me down.

"Ah, Jenny," Ms. Henderson said. She clicked her pen closed, handed everything to the newcomer, and turned to me. "Jenny and Agent Kavanagh are your handlers now."

Jenny nodded. Remember what I said about having employees do the work? I guess I was right. She left without another word, the doors shutting closed behind her.

Kavanagh stood still, one foot resting against the wall as he looked around the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't say a word to either of us as Jenny introduced herself to me as an employee of the super serum project, and I introduced myself as a local teenage nobody. The only time he interacted was to help Jenny drag some things out the closet.

I stared at the first thing they brought out. A tennis ball launcher? Why?

Jenny alarmingly aimed it at me. "Reflexes, Peter," she said, answering my unspoken question, which was likely apparent in my expression.

Okay...that made sense, but was I willing to get pelted by tennis balls for the sake of testing? I didn't have a chance to respond or even nod before she turned it on. The machine must have been on the lowest setting possible, because I dodged the ball easily.

I was expecting Jenny to crank it up slowly, but she immediately switched to the max speed.

An unfamiliar ease overtook me. It wasn't like time slowed down, because time definitely didn't slow down. I was just quick to notice the little neon yellow death demons, each and every one of them, and I kept dodging until I got tired of it and started catching them.

Jenny stopped the machine, and she turned and raised an eyebrow at Kavanagh. He was paying attention, but he didn't comment.

"Good reflexes, check," Jenny mumbled, jotting something down. "Now, can you climb walls?"

It took me a second to realize she was being serious. Then I walked to a wall, feeling incredibly stupid. The only way to know what I could do was to test things, but how was this supposed to work? Should I put my hands on the wall and hope that they stick?

I turned my head to face her, the tips of my toes against the edge of the wall. "What exactly should I do?"

Jenny shrugged. "No idea."

Gee. Thanks.

I laid my palms flat against the wall. Kavanagh remained neutral, but I knew he was laughing inside at how ridiculous I looked. Jenny, on the other hand, didn't try to hide her smile.

I scrunched up my face in embarrassment and took my hands off the walls. "I don't know how to test this!"

Jenny held up a remote, a remote I didn't notice she had, and with the simple push of a button, she turned the flat room into...well, a not flat room.

Rectangles rose out of the floor as if mocking a cityscape, each one a different height from the other. She gestured towards them, so I hopped up onto the shortest one, which was only half a foot tall.

I noticed that even though there was no particular order, the similar heights were close together, making it easier to get from the top of one to the top of another. I started gently hopping on them, holding my arms out for balance.

"What are you doing?"

I looked down at her and blinked. "I thought you wanted me to jump on them?" I asked, looking ahead at the other towers.

"I want you to run."

And then she turned the tennis ball launcher back on.

My mouth opened to curse, but a ball came flying at my face. I jumped to the next tower to avoid it, landing with ease and immediately lifting off to another one. I knew I was being more agile than I'd ever been, and that Jenny could see how easy this was as she nodded and wrote things down.

I kept hopping around, sometimes not even landing properly before I leapt again. My jumps were a little bit higher than they should be, a little more accurate than they ever were. I dodged every ball, feeling light as a feather, when a tower I was leaping towards suddenly shot a few feet higher in the air. I put my hands out in front of me, I don't know why but I did, and my palms smacked against its side.

And I did not stick to it.

I slid down, landing on the ground, surrounded by all the tennis balls that had missed me. Jenny turned the launcher off, nodding, but I couldn't tell if she was impressed or if she was just happy I could actually do anything at all.

I sat up and stared at my palms, bright red from smacking against the tower. It stung, but not nearly as much as it should, not nearly as much as it would if I were the regular human I'd been only days ago. I was out of breath, not from exertion but from exhilaration. I smiled and stood up, shaking my hands to get them to stop being tingly.

"Wear this," Jenny said.

She handed me a blindfold. I warily glanced at the tennis ball machine, knowing very well where this was headed, but I tied the blindfold around my head. So far, I had managed to avoid getting hit, and I was determined to keep up that streak. I heard the launcher groan as it was turned on, and then I held my breath, straining to sense anything coming at me.

A ball nailed me in the shoulder. It didn't hurt, but I jerked back, surprised. I hadn't sensed it or heard it coming. So I stood there, flinching as it pelted balls at me, completely unaware of my surroundings, until Jenny found some humanity and ended the test.

I dejectedly pulled off the blindfold. Did I have some super sense that warned me about incoming attacks? No, apparently not, but at least I had agility, reflexes, and some durability. The tests weren't a total waste.

"So what now?" I asked as I watched the rectangular towers retract back into the ground.

"Come back tomorrow," Jenny said, consumed in proofreading her notes. With the tip of her pen, she gestured at Kavanagh. "He'll drive you after school."

At the mention of school, I was reminded of the homework I had to do. I ran to my backpack, taking out my phone and groaning when I saw that it was six. Forget the homework: Mom's concern was my biggest concern.

Thankfully, Kavanagh didn't waste any time. We went down to his car, and he drove quickly but safely, never speaking to me. I couldn't tell what it was with him, if he thought this whole superhero thing was stupid or if he simply didn't have anything to say, but his silence was bothering me.

I made him stop one street before mine; I didn't need Mom to see me get out of some stranger's car. I shrugged on my backpack and shoved at the door, but it didn't budge. He hadn't unlocked it.

"You should tell your mother," Kavanagh said, finally looking at me.

My hand went still on the door handle, my head turning towards the street in contemplative panic. "I thought you didn't want me to."

"That was before you agreed, before you were fully aware of what was going on." He paused for a long time. "Listen, Peter, it's your choice. You're protected by the FBI, and if anything...happens, your mother will be notified."

I somehow managed a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Agent Kavanagh," I said firmly. "I'll be careful." Just what it was I'd be careful doing...they hadn't really told me yet, had they?

He unlocked the door, and I took off toward home. I was so panicked about the oncoming conversation that I dropped my key three times before I unlocked my apartment door, and as expected, Mom was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed sternly.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"I told you, I was staying after school to help decorate for the Spring dance."

Her head tipped sideways. "But the dance is next week, in the gym. They would never decorate this early."

Darn it, Peter, you're a horrible liar! "You're right," I said, choosing my words carefully. "It is next week. We're not decorating yet, just discussing the plans."

Mom exhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, but she sighed. "Tell me, next time, when you're going to be this late. I was worried."

"You always are," I joked. "It won't happen again."

I wondered if either of us believed me.

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