Every time it happens, it gets easier.
And harder.
I've stopped counting how many times I've paused the world. Once to stop a falling book from hitting someone. Once to avoid a fight in the hallway. Once just to enjoy the silence.
But with every pause, it takes more out of me. Like I'm burning through something inside. Afterward, I'm dizzy. Head pounding. Nauseous, sometimes. Whatever this is—it's not free.
I haven't told anyone. Not Marcus. Not Mom. Especially not Mom. She already worries too much, and I don't need her thinking her son's losing it.
But something's changing, and I can't ignore it.
⸻
We're in history class when the lights flicker. Again. The school building's so old, it probably sighs when no one's around. The projector glitches, and Mr. Collins curses under his breath while smacking buttons.
Everyone laughs. I don't.
Because for a second—I felt the flicker before it happened.
The world jerked, just slightly, like a glitch in a video game. Then it happened again during lunch. A tray dropped. A soda can rolled off a table. And both times, I caught it before they hit the ground.
Not after they fell.
Before.
It's like time and I aren't just linked anymore—I'm ahead of it. And I don't know if that's power or a curse.
That night, I walk to the same overpass I always go to when my thoughts get too loud. But this time, I'm not alone.
Marcus is there. Sitting on the rail. Kicking his legs over the side. I didn't tell him I come here. Guess some things don't need words.
"You good?" he asks.
I shrug. "Yeah. You?"
He hesitates. "You've been… different lately."
I freeze. "What do you mean?"
"You space out more. You flinch at things that haven't happened yet. And sometimes I blink and you're just gone from where you were standing." He looks at me, dead serious. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or am I supposed to pretend I don't see it?"
I want to lie.
But he's my best friend. My only friend, really.
So I say, "Something's wrong with me."
He raises an eyebrow. "Like, sick-wrong? Or powers-wrong?"
That catches me off guard. "You believe in that stuff?"
"Dude," he laughs nervously. "This city's been weird since forever. Blackouts, storms, people disappearing and showing up days later with no memory. And you—you're straight-up pausing time, aren't you?"
I look away.
"That's what I thought," he mutters.
We sit in silence. I half expect him to leave, or tell me I'm dangerous, or look at me like I'm some kind of freak.
Instead, he says, "That's insane. But… I've got your back."
And I feel something loosen in my chest.
Until the ground shakes.
A low rumble, like thunder beneath our feet. We both jump up. In the distance—smoke. Sirens. A scream carried on the wind.
Something's coming.
And for the first time, I wonder if this power came to me for a reason.