Psych Investigation Episodes: Episode 1 (A Young Adult Scifi / Fantasy)

By Kevin Weinberg

Jack Harris thought failing math was the worst thing that ever happened to him.

That was before he discovered he had superpowers. Before he became the prime suspect in a series of murders.

After a surprise homework check sends Jack into a panic, he awakens an uncontrollable force that sets his classroom on fire, putting him in the crosshairs of a pair of similarly-gifted murderers—and a group of investigators pursuing them.

With a team of secret police shadowing his every move, and two homicidal maniacs trying to recruit him, Jack’s lazy lifestyle shatters around as him he’s forced to enter a dangerous world he never wanted to be a part of. If that wasn't enough, the hottest babe in school just agreed to be his tutor, and she’s coming over tonight! If Jack can meet the challenge of impressing the girl of his dreams, then surely taking on a pack of raving, super-powered murderers will be a cinch—unless his mom grounds him first.

Psych Investigation Episodes combines humor with the more serious themes of bullying and isolation. The story chronicles Jack as he plunges headfirst into a secret organization filled with hidden agendas and mysterious powers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Weinberg
• Release date: Apr 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301132966

Kevin Weinberg

Author of Questing Sucks! And the Psych Investigation Episodes series.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Problems at School

Even as his hand raced furiously across the paper, Jack knew it was already too late. He could hear each footstep from the hallway, he could feel the sweat that was dripping between his fingers, and he could taste the fear that was rising from his stomach. Jack realized he was becoming desperate. He ignored the spitballs launched at his head and the laughter from the back of the class.

Why do you even try, Harris? shouted a student.

Jack sat in his usual wooden desk, surrounded by his classmates, and he was overjoyed that his teacher always came late. Since the beginning of the school year, their teacher had made it a habit to arrive ten minutes late. None of the students ever minded, of course, and on this particular Monday morning, Jack Harris thanked his lucky stars for it.

In front of him were two pieces of loose-leaf paper. One was a neat, organized, and most importantly, correct, homework sheet. With each answer placed carefully on the red line, it resembled a work of art. Written at the top was the name Adam Baker.

The second piece of paper, although mostly illegible and appearing rushed, contained the same correct answers as the first. The left side of the page numbered one through twelve. The only problem was that the teacher had assigned twenty math problems to solve.

Well, I really screwed myself this time.

If Jack failed the class, he’d be forced to attend summer school, which would be catastrophic. What could be worse than school in the summer? To Jack, that was a violation of human rights.

Time’s up. Give it back, his friend, Adam, whispered. "Just hand in what you have before we both get caught."

Please, Jack begged. You know if I miss another assignment he’s gonna fail me.

Oh, well in that case … still not my problem.

The classroom door swung open. Thirty-two students turned to face the teacher as Adam snatched the assignment from Jack’s desk.

Jack’s only hope was that the teacher would let him slide for missing a few questions. It was true they’d been given a week to complete the assignment. It was also true that this was one of the easier ones. But in Jack’s mind, no part of this awful situation was his own fault. After all, how did the teacher expect him to complete his homework, especially when a House marathon was airing that week? Jack hated putting in effort, and he hated it even more when he had better things to do, like watching television and eating popcorn.

Jack shifted forward in his seat, wiping sweat from his face with the palm of his hand. He brushed aside his messy black hair that fell just short of his eyes. He looked enviously at his friend Adam, whose brilliant blond hair and stylish glasses amplified his look of intelligence. Adam was calm and collected as usual, alert, with his eyes directed at the teacher in the front of the room.

Good morning, class, Mr. Munson said. He laid his briefcase down on the teacher’s desk. Opening the folder, he took out the day’s attendance sheet.

Despite the late-night movies, television shows, and snacks that had occupied Jack’s life for the past week, he really had intended to finish the assignment. In fact, he had gone so far as to plan out precisely when he was going to complete it. Jack figured if it was assigned on a Monday and due the following Monday, then Sunday at midnight would be the perfect point in time to get started. Needless to say, it didn’t work out quite the way he had planned it.

When the time had come on Sunday night, Jack no longer felt up for the task of doing math. After a glass of soda and a quick shower, he crawled into bed muttering to hell with it before rolling over and falling asleep. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, either. He should have gone to sleep. Instead, he’d sprung out of bed and spent the next four hours reading Bleach. Damn internet, once it had you it was like the Matrix.

Well, Jack said, no one can say I didn’t try.

Adam rolled his eyes. Will you just calm down?

 I am calm! Jack responded just a few too many decibels above a whisper. Mr. Munson stopped calling surnames beginning with the letter G. He removed his gaze from the attendance sheet and his eyes fluttered around the room, searching for the source of the distracting noise.

Excuse me, Mr. Harris. Do you have something you would like to share with the rest of the class?

Jack pointed a finger at himself and gave a questioning look. Do you mean me? I didn’t say anything, Mr. Munson. Are you sure it was from my direction?

Mr. Munson stood from his chair, his face contorting into a scowl. To interrupt him during attendance was one thing, to lie about it was unforgivable.

"Well now, what do you think, Mr. Harris?"

Jack needed an excuse, and he needed one quickly. He was never very good with words, but this time, he had an idea.

Umm, I don’t know. Maybe one of the students is a ventriloquist and he’s trying to frame me. I saw this one thing on CNN about that, and wow, let me tell you—once you’ve seen what these ventriloquist people can do, you wanna be able to do it yourself. Like, you wouldn’t even believe the—

Are you trying to make a fool out of me, Mr. Harris? Do you think I can’t recognize the sound of your incessant yak? The other classmates turned to watch, and Jack knew they were eager to hear more yelling. If there was one thing they all had in common, it was that they loved to see Jack Harris get into trouble.

"Well, I, umm … what does incessant mean again? That’s the one that means not stopping, right?" This set the class further into giddy chaos. Someone threw a paper ball, which bounced off Jack’s head with a thud.

Everyone be quiet this instant! the teacher yelled. Richard, if you throw another object in my class, I will have you removed. Jason, I can discipline him on my own, thank you. Keep your comments to yourself. And Mr. Harris, don’t interrupt me when I’m taking attendance.

An invisible belt tightened around Jack’s stomach. Shame and embarrassment spread over him like a blanket. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.

Yeah, it better not. You kids need to learn that Mr. Munson doesn’t take crap from anyone. Especially not you, Mr. Harris. Oh, and by the way, how did you manage to score a ‘seven’ on the last test? I graded it out of two hundred.

More laughter came from the class, and Jack wanted to crawl under his desk and hide from the humiliation. To make matters worse, Mr. Munson was lying! Jack's grade was a nine, not a seven. It would have been a fifteen, too, but the evil teacher had marked him wrong on a question he'd answered correctly. At least, Jack was pretty sure he’d answered it right.

Of course I did, Jack reassured himself. Two plus ‘X’ equals ‘Z.’ Everyone knows that!

Jack cringed while he waited for the laughter to die down. The worst part was that Melissa, the girl he had his thinly-veiled crush on, had laughed harder than everyone. She sat two seats in front of him. Her golden hair dangled from her shoulder and ran over the back of her seat. She had beautiful blue eyes and a warm smile. Jack’s heart beat faster at the sight of her.

Before we start today, I'm checking your homework, which I really hope you all completed. It is, after all, fifteen percent of your grade. The teacher hummed and wiggled his finger. It all adds up, it all adds up.

Adam sighed. I suppose we’ve got no choice here. Alright, look, just give me your paper. I can copy your handwriting pretty well, and I’ll finish these last few before he gets to us, okay? But this is the last time, Jack. I swear it. And don’t even give me that look.

Jack had to cover his mouth to stop himself from bubbling with excitement. He waited until Mr. Munson faced away before sliding over his pen and paper.

As usual, it was an incredible sight to behold, for not only was Adam writing at a lightning-quick speed, but he was making his handwriting appear identical to Jack’s. For the next few moments, Adam’s hand skipped and danced over Jack’s paper, at a speed that made Jack wonder how he wasn’t burning a hole through it.

Okay, it’s done.

Wait, already?

Yeah, it was easy. Just make sure you— 

Adam stopped short and his eyes widened. He bit the corner of his lip.

Adam, is something wrong? Jack asked. He didn’t understand what could have stopped Adam mid-sentence. A few seconds went by before Adam turned and inhaled, meeting Jack’s eyes.

Jack.

Yeah, what’s up?

Do you remember when I told you to copy my homework exactly as it appeared?

Yup. I wrote it just as you said—number for number, word for word.

Well, when I said that, I thought you understood what I meant by ‘copy exactly’.

Now Jack was confused. What was Adam talking about? Why did he look so angry?

"Do you see this? Adam slid the homework back over to Jack, pointing to a spot at the top of the paper. Do you see what that is?" 

Jack gasped. His eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets. Nerves rushed into his stomach, and his pain grew exponentially.

"When I told you to copy my paper, I assumed you wouldn’t put my name on the top of yours too! Adam’s tone was a whispered scream. Why are you such an idiot? How did you manage to copy my name as well? Tell me, Jack, is this news to you? You know, that you’re supposed to put your own damned name on your own damned paper? And to make it worse, you wrote it in pen."

Jack wanted to close his eyes and pass out. Now, both he and Adam were in jeopardy. Adam, I—

Don’t even speak, Adam said, cutting him off. Sometimes you amaze even me with your stupidity. We’ll just have to find another way out of this.

Jack felt another violent pinch in his stomach, the fiercest yet, causing him to steady himself with a trembling palm on his wooden desk. Aww man, my stomach is killing me.

Jack could tell by the wrinkles forming under Adam’s eyes that his friend was taking notice of his pained condition. What’s going on with you today?

It’s nothing, Jack said. I just, well, I’m nervous is all.

Alright, just take it easy. No sense having a fit over this.

Adam’s words were ineffective. Jack barely heard them. He was too busy following Mr. Munson with his eyes, watching each step as the teacher neared their desk. Jack’s arms trembled, his pain intensifying. A hot, prickly sensation ran across his spine, and Jack twitched, knocking his pen and notebook to the floor.

Hey, seriously, man, are you okay?

Why is my stomach hurting so much?

The pain multiplied. His stomach felt as if it were being sliced open. Jack had missed many assignments before, but why was this one so important? He couldn’t understand it. All he could do was watch in silence as Mr. Munson came closer and closer to his desk. Everything was going wildly out of control. His head started to fog up. The room was spinning, each rotation adding another notch of pain. He closed his eyes, wondering what was happening to him.

Then, as if he’d fallen out of reality, there was pure silence. Jack could no longer hear the sound of Adam’s voice, he could no longer hear the sound of Mr. Munson checking papers, and with a start, when Jack opened his eyes, he realized he could no longer see the two, either. Everything had gone black. All at once, his vision had been stripped from him, and the entire world had been submerged into darkness. Nothing filled his vision, nothing filled his mind, and nothing filled his ears. He was senseless.

Jack tried to look around the room, but he could see nothing. The spinning had stopped, and thankfully, all at once the pain in his stomach faded. Everything was quiet.

It was then that Jack came to realize the assignment didn’t matter to him. In fact, even his own well-being didn’t matter to him. He was calm, and yet something else—Jack felt his mind open like a door sealed shut for hundreds of years. For the first time in his life, everything became crystal clear. A simple truth emerged. It was a truth that was so obvious, so apparent, and so pure. It was a simple fact, a simple reality made bright.

If the damned assignment didn’t exist, it wouldn’t even matter if I did it.

Jack didn't know why the words had so much meaning to them. Obviously, if there had never been an assignment to finish, he would not have had to complete it, but what did that matter? There was an assignment, and yet he had not completed it. And there was nothing he could do to change that, right?

But what if I could?

Jack filled with excitement. What if he could change it? What if there was still something he could do to fix everything? Something had clicked in his mind, something he couldn’t explain.

In that instant, sound returned to him, as well as sight. The class was once again noisy and chattering away while waiting their turn to have their homework checked. Jack surveyed the room. He could once again see the gum-filled desks, the blackboard, and the freshly-cleaned tile floors. He could see something else, too. There was wild amazement in Adam’s eyes.

Adam, what’s wrong? Jack asked. His voice was calm and serene.

Adam’s expression held an air of disbelief. Something is dangerously wrong here. It’s like … It’s like someone poured drops into your eyes when I wasn’t looking. Your eyes are dilated.

My eyes are what, Adam?

Jack, don’t move. Adam rose from his seat and turned to face the teacher. Mr. Munson! he called. We have an emergency. The class turned to face Adam, all probably eager to find out what was happening.

Well, it had better be, for you to disturb me during a homework check.

Mr. Munson, it’s Jack, he—

An ear-piercing scream from the back of the room cut Adam off. Everyone turned to look at the redheaded girl who jumped from her desk, knocking over her chair in the process.

"What in the hell? she yelped. Oh my god, there’s a freaking fire. M-my … my desk is on f-fire!"

Burning on top of the girl’s desk, in bright yellow flames, were her notebook, her homework assignment, and her binder. Dozens of students crowded around, pointing and shoving each other for a better view.

Mr. Munson, wasting no time, grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall and sprinted to the back of the classroom, where he unleashed it on the burned papers. What had once been an organized desk was now nothing more than a charred piece of wood, covered with burnt, unreadable papers turning to ashes. Thick black plumes of smoke trailed from the wrecked desk, filling the classroom with an acrid smell.

Mr. Munson looked down at the fire extinguisher and then back up at the class. Somebody better explain to me what just happened. If I find that anyone was playing with matches, you can bet that your entire high school career is—

There was another scream, this time from the middle of the room. The boy who had been throwing paper balls at Jack leapt from his burning desk and fell backward. Every paper on top of it was now shooting flames.

Oh, for the love of God, what is happening now? Mr. Munson darted to the middle of the room, fire extinguisher in hand. He wasted no time hosing down yet another desk.

He wasn’t half finished putting the flames out when two more students cried out, one from the front of the room and one from the back, each with their desk on fire. Mr. Munson, now in a complete state of confusion, sprinted back and forth between the three fires, trying to put little bits out at a time, as if he was somehow holding each at bay. Students panicked. Shouts of terror filled the classroom.

One by one, the papers, homework assignments, and notebooks erupted in flames all around the classroom. Eventually the class became too shocked to speak, settling instead for barely audible whimpers. Adam and Jack stood up in unison as their desks ignited. The smell of smoke was thick in the air, and as if on cue, the sprinklers above activated, showering the room with cold water.

The bright yellow flames continued until every last desk—including the teacher’s—had been set alight. Mr. Munson’s mouth fell open while he watched the impossible take place. Between his drenched hair and horrified expression, Jack found the sight of him comical.

Everyone out of the classroom—now! Mr. Munson opened the door and evacuated the room. He might not have known what was going on, but Jack knew that now wasn’t the time for the teacher to worry about it. His first priority was the safety of the students.

Everyone on the third floor tried to catch a glimpse of the fire before being led out of the school. That is, everyone except Jack, who was shaking his head in confusion, marveling at the coincidence that had just taken place. He felt a bit groggy, and he had the feeling that he’d forgotten something very important, but he pushed the thought out of his mind, grateful for his sudden change in luck.

Whatever had just happened, Jack was saved, though at the expense of his entire classroom. He swore that from then on he would hand in all his assignments on time.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Chapter 2: A Bit of a Situation

So, another child has been murdered? Paro asked his team, his tone filled with regret. He inhaled, calming his nerves and steadying his shaking hands.

Yes, Sarah answered, and this one is just as bad as the rest.

Paro looked around at his team, each of them sitting at the round glass table in their newly-renovated staging room. Computers and lights blinked and flashed different colors, temporarily brightening the dimly-lit room and indicating various status updates. They had some of the most advanced technology on the planet at their disposal, but it came to them at a steep price.

To his left sat Sarah Blighter, a beautiful, slim woman with black hair tied neatly into a ponytail. She was in charge of gathering intelligence, and her brilliant mind made her right for the job. She passed the report around to Paro and the other two members of the team.

To Paro’s right, sliding the paper off the table and into his massive hands, Kazou Takashi grunted. He was a muscular Japanese man whom Paro had recruited two years earlier. He tracked a finger along the report Sarah handed him and shook his head. Kazou had short black hair and several deep scars running across his face. He looked like a warrior, a man who had seen the depths of hell and lived to speak of it.

Paro sensed a grin burning into the side of his face, and he turned to glare at Michael Reed. He sat casually back in his leather chair with his legs propped on the table. Of all present, Michael had been with Paro’s team the longest.

Despite all the years Paro had worked with Michael, he found him to be quite a troublesome individual. Michael’s inability to take anything seriously, his utter lack of professionalism and playful mannerisms, were a never-ending distraction that often drove Paro to the edge of madness.

Paro’s identity was unknown to the team. Not only his birth name, but where he was from, how he got there and any other information about him.

So, tell me, people. What do we know? Paro wasn’t surprised when Sarah was the first to speak.

The child’s name was Jonathan Herbert. One of ours found him this morning in an abandoned baseball field outside Anker Town. It’s too early to know for sure, but from what I can see he was probably murdered in the same way as the others. She picked up the remote resting on her lap and projected the images onto the screen.

As you can see, she continued, much in the same way as the other children, our victim had his heart removed from his chest, punctured through his body, and then exited through his mouth.

Paro remained silent while he watched Sarah shift through the disturbing photos of Jonathan Herbert’s last moments. Kazou was the next to speak.

And just to confirm with you, he said in crisp, unaccented English. There were no cuts or external damage anywhere on the victim? Kazou had a surprisingly gentle voice, in spite of his scarred face and massive physique.

That’s right. Because there was no cutting, and because the victim apparently ‘coughed’ up his own heart, there is little doubt that a Psych is responsible. The only question left is which kind? Who or what is responsible?

The team pondered quietly for a moment. Michael was first to break the silence. Well hey, isn’t it obvious, fellas? The murderer has gotta be a Telekinetic. I mean, since his heart was ripped through his body and all.

It’s not as simple as that, Kazou said. Sure, an unusually strong Telekinetic Psych could have that kind of destructive power, but Psychs from that line can only move what they can see. How would this killer be able to dislodge someone’s heart? It doesn’t make any sense.

Michael grinned. "I’m more concerned with how Sarah is dislodging my heart, with that sexy smile of hers." He made an exaggerated gesture of blowing a kiss in the air. Sarah shook her head. Paro knew she was used to Michael’s annoying remarks.

 Unless, he was an Unrestricted, Sarah said, prompting the entire team to once again shift in their seats. She mentioned the one thing the others preferred to be left unsaid.

Kazou leaned forward in his chair. You can’t be serious. As rare a breed as we regular Psychs are, the chances of someone having the ability to control all the lines are one in a million. In fact, with the exception of Paro here, I don’t know anyone who was born with such a talent.

Paro, who had been listening in silence, decided to involve himself in the argument. I agree with Kazou. The chances of the killer being an Unrestricted are slim to none, but there’s another possibility we’re overlooking. What if there was more than one killer?

 I see what you’re saying, Paro, Kazou said. If there were two killers, and one was a Telepath, that would certainly make things easier to accept. I’ve heard some of them are not limited to seeing just inside the mind, but throughout the entire body. With a very powerful Telepath, he or she could project the images directly into the mind of a Telekinetic, and then it would be quite simple for him or her to …

Exactly, Paro said. He folded his hands under his chin. He could see by the look on his team’s faces that they were taking a moment to think of the dangerous possibility of two Psychs murdering people together. It was not a welcome thought.

A knock came from the door. A tall man entered and whispered something into Paro’s ear, handing him a file before leaving.

We seem to have some new information that may pertain to this case. There have been some … interesting developments that may lead us to be correct about our killer, or killers, being students.

The three other members of the team exhaled. In the past, some of the bloodiest and most horrifying murders turned out to be the work of mere children.

Odd, Paro said. It seems there was an attack today in a classroom with a probable link to a Psych.

In one motion, the team turned their heads towards Paro. Sarah exhaled, Kazou tensed, and Michael took his feet off the table and sat up straight.

Sarah exclaimed, Was anyone hurt?

And who were they attacking? Kazou asked.

Well, according to the report no one was injured, and it seems the attacker was after … Paro paused. He double-checked the file. Was he reading the proper information? He checked once more before continuing to speak. It appears the attacker was after everybody’s homework.

Michael scratched his nose while Sarah tilted her head like a curious puppy, prompting Paro to recheck the file yet again. He passed it around the room so his team could see for themselves.

Do you think the attacker is one of the suspects we’re looking for? Sarah asked.

I’m not sure. There’s certainly the possibility, but I believe it unlikely. Think about it. Up until now, the murders have been conducted secretively. There’s been little evidence to work with. Why would such a person give away his or her location, especially over something so trivial?

Kazou rubbed his chin. Well, Paro, what are the chances of more than one unregistered Psych being in the same area? Personally, I think whoever is in that class is taunting us, daring us to find them. What if our killer is growing overconfident or bored?

That’s something we’ll consider, Paro said. But for the time being, we’ll need a list of everyone in that class, along with full academic records. It’s very possible we’re simply dealing with some overzealous brat. But, at any rate, let’s at least find out who this kid is and take him or her into custody. I’d prefer to know for sure.

Sure, boss, Kazou said.

Sarah, I want you at the Herbert crime scene. See if you can find anything they happened to miss the first time around, or anything else that might lead us to something of value. Michael and Kazou will go with you. After all of you have given it a final check, meet me at this Elms High. Even if this fire is an unrelated incident, I can’t have some newbie Psych that just discovered their abilities running loose and starting fires. Paro looked around the room. And everyone, please, be careful. If it turns out our killer and this kid is one in the same, we could be dealing with one of our most vicious criminals yet. Take every precaution to ensure your own safety.

The three members of his team nodded their acceptance. They rose from their seats and left Paro behind in the dim room.

His team was not unique—there were many like it around the world, all part of a government sanctioned organization designed to deal with the growing number of Psychs in recent times. Well funded and well trained, they were responsible for their own kind.

Each member of his team was a Psych. Not that there weren’t many normal people assisting in Psych matters, but the people who ran things wanted to keep as little information as possible from leaking out. The world was not yet ready for Paro’s kind, and he didn’t think it ever would be.

The purpose of his team was to manage juvenile Psychs, their behavior, health and everything that fell in between. While others would scoff at their tasks and perhaps laugh it off as the easiest of the jobs, Paro knew the difficulty firsthand. On more than one occasion, they had gone after some of the deadliest killers in the organization’s history. It amazed Paro how people so young could act so violently. But in a way, he understood them. Many were abused, brought into the world without loving parents, and realizing their incredible abilities, they lashed out with violence.

Paro sighed. He was a handsome man, with short black hair and dark eyes. He looked older than a man in his mid-twenties. He was muscular, though not quite to the degree of Kazou. Paro maintained a solid physique, though he wasn’t as persistent in his training as he was a few years earlier. He sat up in his chair, giving the photos on the screen another glance. They caused him to wince.

Thankfully, the majority of their cases weren’t murders or acts of violence. Typically, Paro’s team dealt with youths discovering their abilities and acting out. There were thefts, of course, pranks and other sorts of mischief, but it was usually a matter of finding the kids and scaring them, and then freeing them on the promise of improved behavior—and their silence.

A few minutes went by, and the assistant returned, this time carrying another file containing the list of students, their ages and full academic records. Paro frowned at the man.

No photo IDs?

Sorry about that, but this was all we could get. You’re going to have to go down there yourself if you want to see the kids.

Paro nodded. I was going there anyway. I’ll see what I can find. Thanks, Dennis.

Chapter 3: More Problems at School

Look at her, Adam. She’s so hot.

Adam listened to Jack ramble and stare longingly at Melissa. The students were crowded together in the school’s football field, waiting while the firefighters extinguished the flames in the third-floor classroom.

 I have to ask her out! I mean, after that trauma we all just went through, I might have a shot this time.

Adam leaned on a fence near the bleachers, uninterested in Jack’s attempt to find love. Never mind that, he said. That fire in the classroom—how did you do it?

Jack paused a moment. "Hey, wait a minute. Now I know I’m not exactly an honors student here, but you don’t really think I’d start a fire just to save myself from an F? And besides, I don’t even bring matches to school. You know I don’t smoke."

That’s not what I meant. Come on, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Adam opened his mouth to continue speaking—and then paused. Was it possible Jack really didn’t know? Adam wasn’t sure what he was accusing Jack of, either. One minute they were sitting in a normal classroom, and then, within the next four minutes every desk in the room was on fire.

At first, he thought it the work of some prankster. Perhaps someone had placed gasoline on the students’ desks before class? No, that was impossible. Everyone would have smelled or noticed it.

I know what I saw. His pupils were dilated. Jack was acting very unusual.

Adam had been close friends with Jack since long before entering the tenth grade, and he was positive that his friend wouldn’t lie to him.

But what happened?

 It’s like I’m telling you. Your pupils were dilated, and then moments later the fires started. It was beyond insane.

Jack shrugged. You must be mistaken, Adam. I don’t recall any weird eyesight problems. You know what? It was probably just passing indigestion. Besides, the teachers already said the fire was due to like umm, a weird anomaly with the sun, or something. At least, I think that’s what they said. I’ve never been any good with sun-stuff.

The neat lines the school had placed the students in dissolved. Students wandered off towards all ends of the field. Melissa stood on the grass near the other end of the bleachers, huddled together with two of her friends, the three of them chatting away.

She’s right there, Jack said. I think I’m actually gonna do it this time. I’m serious. I’m feeling really lucky today.

Look, you need to forget about that. I mean, let’s face it, Jack. You’re just going to humiliate yourself. Besides, we have more important things to talk about.

Well, we can talk about whatever you want later. I’m going over there!

Adam watched his carefree friend march over to Melissa. He decided to follow Jack, if for no other reason than pure amusement. If Jack refused to discuss Adam’s theories now, he would drop them for the time being.

Melissa had transferred to Elms High during the beginning of the term, becoming immensely popular in a short period of time, although Adam didn’t care much for her. She was pretentious, overly snappy, and she dressed like a woman in her late thirties. Melissa and her friends turned as they heard Adam and Jack approach.

Hot day out today, isn’t it? Jack remarked casually to the girls. Adam took a seat on the bleachers and waited for the show to begin.

Hey, I know you, Melissa said. You’re that kid that sits in the back, the one that’s always getting yelled at by the teacher. I remember, because last week the teacher was yelling that you’ve missed every single assignment this term. You’re Jack Harris, right? The two girls behind Melissa giggled. Even Adam, who was normally indifferent to such comments, let out a chuckle from where he observed on the wooden bleachers.

In a sadistic sort of way, it amused Adam to watch his friend struggle to find a reply. Most people would quit while they were ahead, but not Jack. No, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he made a complete fool of himself.

Well, I guess you could say that’s me, Jack said. But come on, homework is a waste of time. Anyway, how about that fire in class today, eh? It was scary, right?

Melissa glanced at Jack with a puzzled expression. I think that’s pretty obvious. Personally, I can say I’ve never seen anything like it. A girl has to learn to accept a lot of things in life, but having her desk turn into an inferno for no apparent reason, well, that’s not one of them. So, is there something that you wanted, Jack?

Adam refrained from snorting with laughter as he watched his friend try and muster the courage to move forward. Melissa’s tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it certainly wasn’t warm. Adam felt the oncoming embarrassment in place of Jack, as he had done so many times before.

 Well, you know, I just kind of wanted to say hi, and all. I saw you standing here and I thought hey, another classmate, maybe we could talk about that crazy fire, and you know, some other stuff.

Melissa yawned and scratched dirt from under her nails as if nothing Jack said mattered to her. It was really weird, she said. Another mystery of life, I guess.

You know, I actually didn’t do the homework last week, and as bad as a fire is and all, I’m actually kinda glad. Now that everyone’s homework has been burnt to a crisp, Mr. Munson’s kind of out of luck, isn’t he?

Melissa cocked an eyebrow and then walked to the bleachers with her two friends. She took a seat before continuing to speak. "Well, some of us, Jack,