Where: A high school in Miami, FL
When: Exactly two years ago
Tag: No one (Solo thread)

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Andy was sitting on one of the wooden benches in the locker room, surrounded by his teammates. He tried to avert his gaze as they took off their clothes, exposing their naked bodies to one other like it was no big deal. Was he seriously the only one who thought it was? Andy took a deep breath to stay calm, then commenced pulling off his pants to reveal a silky black speedo that he had already changed into before he ever left his house. Was it weird he wore speedos like underwear? No one else seemed to...

And then Coach barged in, blowing his whistle so loudly that Andy couldn't help but wince. "Okay, team. Listen up. Like always, I want us to win. Can we do that?"

There were a few nods, but no words.

"I said... Can we do that!?" Coach asked again, raising his voice to the point where veins were bulging from his neck. He wasn't angry, Andy knew that, but he sure looked it.

"Yeah!" Everyone cheered in unison, raising their fists to the cieling. Everyone except for Andy, whose mind had drifted to the possibility of swimming too fast. Not a worry he ever thought he'd have until now.

"Andy, I couldn't hear you. Think you can break another school record?"

Shit. Andy snapped out of his thoughts, brown eyes wide. "That's the plan," he replied, his lips curling into an embarrassed smile. A part of him liked the attention, feeling important. Almost like a celebrity. Another, much larger part wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his shell and disappear from existence, especially since he knew a handful of his teammates were already jealous enough as it was. Some had even accused him of taking steroids, which wasn't true.

Coach gave an approving nod, then looked at everyone else and became stern again. "You have five minutes to get ready. Make me proud, boys."

Once Coach left, Andy heaved a sigh of relief and started digging through his sports bag for his goggles and cap. He found his cap and fit it onto his head, but where the hell were his goggles? Then he remembered he had left them in his locker. In the hallway. Ugh. With no time to waste, he scrambled to slip on his sneakers and bolted out of the locker room without a single word as to where he was going.

Little did he know, someone was following him.

Faster, faster, faster! Coach is going to kill me!

Andy's mind raced as he sprinted through the halls, ignoring any passbery he may have seen. The only thing he cared about was finding his goggles and getting back to the pool on time for the swim meet. Why had he left his goggles in the locker, anyway? Maybe because he had a bad habit of taking a dip in-between classes or cutting classes completely. Oh, he really hoped they were there...

As he arrived at his locker, he could hear one of his moms reprimanding him for not being organized enough. For not being responsible. Rolling his eyes, Andy quickly entered his combination, opened his locker and commenced rummaging through the mess of text books, notebooks and folders that occupied each shelf. "Come on, come on..." he muttered under his breath, trying not to panic. "I know you're here..."

"Excuse me, but, are you Andy?"

As if to make his life more difficult, a total stranger appeared out of nowhere and started talking to him. A girl with big, curly hair and a strange scar over her right eye. Does she even go to this school? Andy wondered, raising a confused brow.

"Um, uhh… do you have a minute?"

Every fiber of Andy's being screamed at him to say "NO" -- but he just couldn't do it. Then she said something that confused him even more.

"To, uh, talk about your…thing?"

"My thing?" Andy glanced down, remembering all he had on at the moment was a pair of speedos and sneakers. She couldn't seriously be flirting with him, could she? Now? "I have to find my goggles," he spat out, then resumed scouring his locker again until he finally spotted a pair of bright blue googles lodged in-between two of his text books. "There you are," he said, letting out a breath of relief.

Andy grabbed his favorite (and only) pair of goggles as soon as they came into view and shut his locker, then spun on his heel to return to the pool deck. He was so relieved and excited to have found them that he completely forgot someone had been trying to speak with him, his mind on the race. That was all that mattered, after all.

"Wait, wait!"

The mysterious girl jumped in front of him, literally blocking him from getting to where he needed to be. "I was serious. That’s really not what I was talking about."

Eyes wide in surprise, Andy has no choice but to stop in his tracks. It wasn't like he could just plow her over, as much as he wanted to. Seriously, what was her problem? Didn't she know he had somewhere to be? Was she really that into him? "I'm sorry, I have a race. It's starting soon..." he tried to explain as nicely as possible.

"I meant your secret, you know, power."

Andy's heart skipped a beat. How did she know about that? Both confused and afraid, he wrinkled his brow and peered around the empty hallway, suddenly feeling as though he was being watched. "My power...?" he asked, playing stupid for the sake of maintaining his secret, well, a secret. If anyone found out, he'd be kicked off team for cheating. Or worse. "I don't know what you're talking about," he countered, clutching onto his goggles for dear life.

"It’s just I have powers too, you see, and I’m here to help you. Like, save you. I know how terrifying they can be. How you probably don’t ever want to use them and just want your life to go back to being normal because now even your parents are freaked out by you. But, well, you can’t, and now that is why I’m here. To prevent you from making a big mistake... one that you will regret for the rest of your life."

Andy's jaw dropped. She had powers, too? But that didn't explain how she knew about his. He wanted answers, but was too afraid to ask... Plus, he was pretty sure his five minutes were already up. "Look, this is nothing against you, but I don't need your help. I have a race to win." With that, Noah put on his goggles, broke into a sprint toward the pool deck and didn't look back.

Coach is going to be so pissed...

One look at Coach's face and it was confirmed: he was pissed. "Andy, where the hell have you been? You're late," he yelled, spraying his face with a mouthful of saliva.

Whether it was intentional or not, Andy couldn't be sure -- but it didn't matter. He shouldn't have been late. He shouldn't have let himself get distracted. "Sorry, Coach. I had left my googles in my other locker. Won't happen again," he said with apologetic eyes.

Coach shook his head in disapproval, then seemed to realize that this was not the time to be giving him a lecture. "It better not. Now go swim your little heart out and make your school proud." With that, Coach gave him two firm pats on the back and Andy forced a smile before pulling off his sneakers and hurrying over to his post. 

You got this, Andy, you got this. You can breathe underwater, remember? he reminded himself as he climbed onto his designated diving board, then commenced stretching his arms and legs. Taking a deep breath, Andy readjusted his swimmer's cap and tried to regain his sense of calm. Calm. Seemed like such a foreign concept at the moment. His heart was still racing from having sprinted, everyone in the stands was probably looking at him, and his thoughts kept on drifting back to the unnverving conversation he had in the hallway with a total stranger who somehow knew he was a mutant.

How could she be so sure, anyway? It wasn't like she had ever seen... Oh no. Brown eyes widened from behind his bright blue googles as realization hit him. Maybe she had followed him to the pool one day in-between classes and saw he didn't have to come up for air? Or maybe she was just crazy? Ugh, he couldn't be sure.

"Take your marks."

Andy snapped out of his thoughts instantly at the sound of the announcer's voice. Head in the game, Andy. Head in the game, his brain demanded as he bent down to grab hold the end of the diving board, crouching down as low as he could. Remember. Not too fast, not too slow.

BANG!

The starting gun fired and Andy dove straight into the pool, hands first. The cool water felt pleasant on his skin, refreshing, but there was no time to bask in it. He had to focus on his strokes. Normally, he would also have to focus on his breathing, but not anymore. Not since his mutation manifested.

Kick, kick, kick, he repeated in his head until-- Argh! His right foot was cramping up. No! Wincing, Andy tried to ignore the pain and keep swimming, but it was hard to. In a matter of seconds, two swimmers of the opposing team were on both sides of him, rivaling his speed. A twinge of fear surged through Andy. He tried to kick harder, but his foot wouldn't allow it. Then, all of a sudden, he felt himself being propelled forward as though by an invisible force.

What's happening? I can't stop!

Andy didn't know what was happening. One moment he was falling behind and now he was being pulled -- no, pushed -- right toward the other end of the pool. He didn't know how he was cutting through the water like some sort of human torpedo, but he figured it was for the same reason he could breathe underwater. His mutant genes.

And for a brief moment, as he blew past his opponents and drew close to finishing his last and final lap, he couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the prospect of winning, of beating his old time. But that feeling of euphoria faded quickly, as soon as he realized he couldn't stop.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Shutting his eyes in fear of a head-on collision, Andy threw his arms out in front of him and-- What? Andy opened his eyes, realized he was in mid-air, screamed for dear life, then shut them again just before crashing against (and skidding across) the hard, flesh-scraping cement floor.

Is it over? Andy asked himself, wincing in pain as he rolled over onto his back.

But it wasn't over. In fact, the craziness had just begun as people in the stands started shouting, screaming... some in fear, others in anger. Some even seemed to have enjoyed his little "stunt" -- if you could call it that -- as though it had been a part of a planned performance. Far from it.

"He's a mutant!" 

"Cheater!"

"Disqualify him!"

Andy didn't want to get up, afraid to look at the nightmarish chaos he single-handedly caused, but then he heard his mom. "¡Mijo!" And then his other mom. "Are you okay, mijo? What happened? How did you... do that?"

Immediately, he lifted his head off the wet floor to see their worried faces and quickly racked his brains for an easy way to tell his parents he was a mutant. There wasn't one. "I... don't know. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I just..." Really wanted to win... Stupid, stupid, stupid! Andy mentally kicked himself in regret, wishing he could take it all back.

He should have never raced today. He should have listened to the apparently psychic girl in the hallway. She had tried to warn him, but he didn't want to listen. All he wanted was to lead his team to victory once again and be worshipped by his peers as the next Michael Phelps...

Stupid, stupid, stupid!