Heath had known about supers all his life.

There was at least one in every class, several in every history book and more than a hundred in every workplace.

Lincoln ended slavery by using precognition to see what the enemies moves would be. Napoleon conquered most of Europe by using mind control to force his enemies to make stupid moves. And Queen Victoria used her power of long life to... well, live longer.

Even in literature they were present. Tybalt used his empathic abilities to make Romeo angry (he hadn't anticipated Romeo killing him though). In The Picture of Dorian Grey, Dorian wished upon a painting that he would become a super. And the Raven used his powers to shapeshift into a bird and torment the man in The Raven.

For as long as people could remember, children had been brought up learning about the excellence and awesomeness of supers.

Hitler had had powers too, but he was just a once off case.

So everyone adored supers. They were the higher-ups, the rarities, the gods amongst mice.

Heath Turbid wasn't everyone though. After all, everyone's older brother wasn't killed off by a super. Or else they may have shared his opinions.

Heath hated all supers.

He hadn't always felt that way though. However, when he saw his brother's pale, blank face, with dried dark crimson blood on the wound on his temple, he made up his conflicted mind about super-powered individuals.

They were evil. They were a menace. And, most of all, they were abominations. Freaks of nature.

It didn't matter to him that most of his teachers were supers. Or that one of his brother's best friends, Brandon Jones, could control gravity. Andrea Prutz, who he'd had a crush on for years, could turn invisible, but he ignored that thought.

Luckily for him, his parents shared the same view. They too decided that supers were responsible for all evil on this Earth.

So Heath and his parents never argued about supers. They never even talked about supers.

So when he came into school that morning, his eyes flitted to his friends, who smiled widely at him, before he turned away and sat down on his own, trying to piece together the clues, of which he had barely any, on the mystery of who had killed his brother. He was hellbent on finding the killer, determined to pursue the answer to the ends of the earth.

He wanted justice.

And for a quiet sixteen year old, justice wasn't exactly the most ideal thing to have on your mind. Justice was best left to people like the principal and police.

His friends had given him funny looks for about five minutes, but he just ignored them, thinking of ways to catch the killer and what he would do with them. He certainly didn't want to hurt them (he may have been angry, but he would never go that far) but nevertheless, he'd have to do something with them.

The killer could be anyone, after all. Most likely a super, or else the case would've been investigated more thoroughly and wouldn't have been abandoned so quickly. At least, that was what his parents said.

So he decided that not interacting with anyone was the best way to go. That way, the chances of interacting with his brother's killer were greatly reduced. But then his chances of interacting with anyone who could know about the killer would be greatly reduced as well. Which made the idea rather dumb.

After fifteen minutes of angry silence, the bell for class rang and Heath rushed to get there on top, having got caught up in his thoughts.

He walked into class in a hurry, determined not to sit next to any supers and took a seat next to back, where he could brood and plot in silence.

Ms. Allen, a quiet, strict and fiercely intelligent black woman, and one of the few teachers who wasn't a super, came in early that morning.

Early meant on time, as she was late on a regular basis.

The reason why was revealed rather quickly as she smiled widely at her class and introduced Poppy Pena, a new student.

Heath quickly decided that was the stupidest name he'd ever heard.

However Poppy wasn't someone he'd like to cross, or say that to her face.

She was tall, taller than most of the boys in the class and most certainly taller than Heath. Her face was long and her lips were full and her dark curly hair reached her ears. She looked Hispanic, except for her pale glacial eyes surveyed the room with an air of mischief.

But those weren't any of the two things he noticed first.

The first thing he saw was her leather jacket, which was mahogany and slightly too big for her, worn over her uniform.

He was confident he'd never seen someone wear a leather jacket over their uniform. Darcy Morgan in the class above tried to wear one to school but failed and got detention for breaking the dress code. Maybe the headmistress simply hadn't seen her leather jacket yet.

The second thing he noticed was her smile. She grinned like a Chesire Cat, all teeth and all-knowing. It was as if she knew every single one of his secrets without him even breathing a word about them to her.

So, when Poppy sat down next to Heath, it was a mild understatement to say he was terrified.

And to say he was surprised when she'd opened her mouth and spoken to him was another understatement.

"Do you have chewing gum?" she asked, her voice surprisingly high-pitched.

His attention was immediately diverted from Ms. Allen's talk about their studied text, Wuthering Heights, focusing instead on Poppy. He shook his head, his throat dry and lips sealed, his eyes unable to tear away from her.

She sighed and pulled a pack of Wrigley's Chewing Gum, spearmint flavour. She popped one into her mouth and held out the packet to him.

He hesitated, remembering that they weren't allowed gum in class and his chocolate eyes darted towards Ms. Allen who was eyeing him with an evil eye. She had paused on her explanation on the background around the book.

Feeling rebellious and taking it as a token of friendship, he took a chewing gum strip.

Poppy smiled her Chesire smile and continued to chew.

"You lived here long?" she asked, blowing a small bubble.

"U-uh, yeah," he said quickly, smiling weakly. He may have wanted her to be his new friend, seeing as he'd abandoned his previous ones, but he was still intimidated by her.

"I'm from California," she said, looking up at the board once before rolling her eyes and looking back to Heath,"We didn't have to wear uniforms there."

"I can tell," he said, his eyes on her jacket,"I don't think leather jackets are in the dress code."

Poppy laughed and put her feet up on the table. "I shall transform the dress code for the better!" she said,"Dress code revolution!" She paused. "That was a joke, right?"

He simply shrugged. His eyes momentarily darted up to Ms. Allen, whose lips were so pursed they had become a line. He held her gaze for a second before swiftly returning his attention to Poppy.

"If you are being serious, which I hope you're not, 'cause that makes you less funny," she continued, her lips forming an 'O' as she blew a second bubble,"Well, I found a six shooter gun. And I'm pretty keen to use it. So they can try. " She began humming a tune under her breath.

Heath wondered if that was a threat, because it certainly sounded like one. He had never heard anyone threaten the headmistress before. For good reason. Maybe she just hadn't met the headmistress yet. Or maybe she simply wasn't scared of her. Or maybe she was an idiot. He would've liked to think it was the second one, but the latter seemed more likely.

Either way, Heath found himself admiring her for her bold words. He certainly wouldn't have been able to say such a thing, especially not with a teacher glaring at him from the top of the room.

Poppy seemed unfazed though, and when the massive bubble popped, she continued to chew her chewing gum, crossing her legs on the table.

As he eyed the knee-high boots upon Poppy's feet, Heath remembered they weren't in the dress code either. They had to wear black shoes, which the boots were, but dress shoes or trainers.

However, this time he decided not to breathe a word about it to her. He would probably have gotten a glare. Or she would've kicked him with her heavy-looking boot. That would most certainly be an embarrassing ordeal, and his friends - former friends - would most definitely laugh at him. Poppy probably would too. She looked like the type of person who would laugh. And then kick him again. However, appearances could be deceiving. He hoped that applied to her.

She watched him with those glacial eyes, and he quickly remembered he hadn't said anything for some while since he had been eyeing the boots.

"Are there much supers in your area?" Heath asked, playing with his pen as he spoke. When he realised what topic he'd just brought he quickly tried to change the subject, but Poppy had already started her reply.

"Hmm," she said, stroking an imaginary beard and her eyes watched the teacher scribbling on the board, but absorbed none of what was being said. She took a rather long while to reply and by then, Heath began to wonder if she didn't like him anymore solely because of one slip-up.

"Well, I guess so," she said, shrugging her shoulders and returning her gaze to him.

"Oh," he said simply,"I see."

The conversation died down for a moment, but Poppy started it up again before the sparks of a friendship could go out.

"I'm Poppy," she said, holding out her hand to him,"But you already knew that."

"Heath," he replied, shaking her hand,"And yeah, I guess I did."

"I officially announce you my new to-be-bestie," she said, her lips forming her Chesire Cat smile.

Heath's stomach squirmed, but he just smiled widely back, pretending the smile didn't unnerve him.

After all, a creepy smile meant nothing. It was simply a creepy smile.