Super WHAT?
Jax Abbott

Chapter 1

I am so not wearing tights and a cape.

If you think the first day at a new school sucks, try being the daughter of a washed-up superhero. My mom quit the League of Liberty after evil villains tried to take over the world and my dad disappeared. Why is it that the villains always want to take over the world? Why don’t they just want to take over, say, Miami? They could have fun doing their villain thing on the drug dealers who, let’s face it, nobody would miss, and plus they’d get beaches. But, nooooo, it always has to be the entire world.

Most evil villains suffer from a case of the Greedy Gimmies, if you ask me.

So, here we are in Skyville, Florida, and I got to start the first day of sophomore year with total strangers. I figured if some lame teacher asked me to stand up and tell the class all about myself, Going Postal would no longer be an expression. The new one would be Going Jessie.

***

I walked into first period and my Algebra II teacher looked about a hundred years old. I picked a seat a little behind the exact middle of the room. Seat selection is very strategic. Too close to the front, and you tell the world you’re the kind of suck-up who will always be shooting her hand in the air and saying, "Oh, oh, oh. Pick me to tell you the fascinating story of quadratic equations." Too close to the back, and the teacher watches you suspiciously, plus the loser tough-guy wannabes think you want to hang with them. Near the middle is perfect for saying, "I’m pretty much all that." Not to mention, you still have to be careful of the old "Now that you’re settled in, Class, I’ll pass around a seating chart and you can fill in your name and sit there the rest of the year" trick.

I spent a whole year of biology sitting behind Farting Freddie Sedgewick because of that cruel teacher joke.

I looked around as the class filled up and noticed that my seating strategy made a better transition from Seattle than I did. The people who were sitting near me seemed pretty normal, and at least one of the guys in the front row had a cell phone, pager, Palm Pilot, and some other thing all strapped to his belt. Serious techno-dweeb gadget freak. My principal back home would have confiscated all that stuff, but I guess they softball the rules here.

"Hey, new girl. Nice backpack."

I jerked out of my classmate-scoping zone and turned to look at the girl sitting down next to me. She had the kind of silky, long, straight blonde hair that makes the rest of us wish for our spray-on conditioner and an extra half-hour with the blow dryer. But she was smiling at me with a friendly look that made it hard for me to hate her just for her hair.

Plus, it would have been shallow.

"Thanks. Scooby Doo is so retro, but with Sarah Michelle Gellar doing Daphne in the movies, it just rocks, you know?" I laugh, hoping she doesn’t think I’m a total geek. Luckily, she laughs, too.

"I have boring black," she said, pointing to her backpack on the floor. "But I’m redeemed in my dullness by my Gwen Stefani surfing with Michelle Branch lunchbox."

"No way! I didn’t know they even made those! That’s totally hot."

"Well, you can’t actually buy one. I made it myself," she confessed shyly, as she unzipped her backpack and drew out the slim metal box to show me. It was amazing; a very detailed painting of the singers and the boards, with some kind of varnish or shiny finish on it like super-hardener nail polish. I could almost hear the ocean. I looked at her, my eyes widening.

"You’re like a real artist! Pretty impressive. I’m Jessie, by the way. Jessie Drummond."

She smiled again, her cheeks a little pink. I like people who get embarrassed by compliments instead of just expecting everybody to tell them how great they are.

"I’m Lily. Welcome to Skyville High, Jessie."

"Oh, goody. Is Darling Lily making friends with the new girl? Watch out, new girl, or you’ll be permanently doomed to the loser table at lunch. Although, with those shoes, you show at least some promise." The voice that cut in to our conversation was that kind of fake sweet that usually promises to turn nasty fast. I turned to look at her.

"Oh, these old things?" I gestured to my Marc Jacobs black patent leather heels with the tiny embossed hearts, which cost me two months’ worth of babysitting money but were totally worth it for all You’re Being Judged by Your Shoes situations.

"Can’t go wrong in your Marcs," she said, stretching out her own red pair in the aisle, as she took the seat in front of me. This was one of the Populars of Skyville High, no doubt. Unless you just crawled out from under a rock, you can always scope out the Populars. They wear the right shoes, have the right hair, get the right boys, and everything in life is perfect for them. They’re basically really, really annoying. With her cheerleader blonde hair and long, thin legs, I would have pegged Lily for a Popular, until she started talking. Then it was clear Lily had actual brain cells.

"I’m Kelli. Kelli with an i." Popular Girl flipped a wave of her dark brown with perfectly-colored auburn highlights hair over her shoulder and pinned me with a cool green gaze. Colored contacts, I bet.

"Nice to meet you. I’m Jessie. Jessie with an ie."

I smiled and was saved by the bell. Literally. The bell for first period rang, and Kelli turned toward the front of the class. Lily caught my attention and rolled her eyes, pointing at Kelli’s back, and I tried to swallow the giggles. Never a good idea to be caught making fun of the Populars the very first day of class.