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Rated: ASR · Draft · Sci-fi · #1047282
I feel like I could add more, but I also feel like I'm fine with this.
Chapter 4: Imbeciles and Infants

“So what’s he like?”

“A cute little turd.”


“Well he always stinks, but the urge to hug him is even more powerful than the smell.”

Lunchtime had again encountered Leda Swanson. Orion and Callista were sitting on some benches that were as far away from the quad—the social center of school—as possible. Kids on their way to lunch would stare and point at Callista, a physical reminder of the power displayed the previous week.

“Twenty four,” Callista said.

“What? I only counted twenty two. Where did the other two come from?”

“See that kid in the white polo shirt holding hands with his girlfriend?”

“They weren’t staring at you.”

Callista sighed. “Yes they were. Whatever. Don’t interrupt me; I’m working on psychically feeding myself.”

Orion watched his comrade as she attempted to mentally devour a meatball sandwich without sliding meatballs down her shirt. Her demeanor and body language revealed something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

Another meatball slid down Callista’s shirt as she lowered her food onto her plate with her mind. She then glared at the bright afternoon suns overhead for almost a minute, and probably would have continued until the bell rang were it not for Orion attempting to steal her meatball sandwich. Callista slapped his hand away.

“The baby doesn’t have any powers.”

Orion was astonished. “What?!”

“All powers are supposed to corroborate the doctor’s affirmations after two days. He was supposed to exhibit his assumed molecular skills during that time,” Callista stated with a slight tone of frustration, biting her lower lip as the thought pierced her mind. “Well it’s been five days and he has no powers. Nothing.”

Orion was quiet, his hand rested on his cheek in thought and worry.

“M-maybe he’s a slow developer—“

“The slow developer excuse would have worked two days ago. No seer or doctor can figure it out. Now I have even more parental hardships than I did before he was born, because this whole mess is driving my parents crazy. Although I can’t help but laugh at their rotten luck; they wanted a kid who wasn’t a screw up and now he’s even a bigger screw up than I am.” Callista smiled slightly at such a thought.

Orion nervously played with his food, eyeing the remnants of his cold meatloaf.

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Orion anxiously. “No child has ever been born without powers.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Callista snapped. “Do you know how important this baby’s perfection was to my father? Do you know how important this could be to the world?”

Orion was silent.

“Dad wants to send the baby somewhere, and it’s certainly not to boarding school,” continued Callista.

“How do you know?” declared Orion anxiously.

“I heard him!” Callista yelled so loud a few students passing by turned around and looked at her quizzically.

“I’m sorry for being angry, I don’t mean to take it out on you,” said Callista softly. “It’s just...this could get so out of proportion. I just heard some things last night, bad things.”

The conversation ended abruptly by the annoying ring of the bell signaling that lunch was over. A sea of students buzzed around them, hindering the barrier of privacy Callista and Orion usually enjoyed because of their abnormalities. Callista physically dumped her meatball sandwich in the trash and picked up her backpack.

“I have to go,” she solemnly said.

Regarding his friend with concern and compassion, Orion jumped off the bench and put his hand on her shoulder. “You know I’m always here if you need me.”

Callista blushed. “If I need you. Yes.” She began walking when she heard Orion whisper in her ear.

“What’s the baby’s name?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “My father will only give him one when its powers emerge. Orion…Orion you understand the severity of this situation, right?”

She looked up at him with mirrors of trepidation and fear, emotions she could never verbally admit.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

The crackle of talking students ignited the chilly air.
© Copyright 2005 Koran Kiswardy (joyblack007 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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