Chum

The soft orange glow of a solitary lamp spills its warmth over the room, bathing Kate's living room in a gentle embrace. It's an older model, its shade faded and its base a little wobbly, but it does its job, providing a comforting, muted illumination. The lamp sits on a wooden side table, worn down from years of use, and flanks the side of a weathered futon. The seat dips in the center, showing its age, but it's the kind of old that's been lived in and loved.

A once-bright carpet stretches across the floor, its fibers having long lost their luster, now bearing a more muted palette. But what the room lacks in modern decor, it more than makes up for with character. Each corner tells a story. Vintage movie posters, their colors vibrant against the faded wallpaper, dot the walls — proud reminders of weekends past, when Kate and her dad would lose themselves in black and white classics.

There's a creaking sound from the nearby hallway, signaling the approach of Kate's father. He's a tall figure, with salt-and-vanilla strands interweaving through his scalp, slightly tousled — likely from countless runs through his fingers during a taxing shift. His beard is thick, more white than blonde now, framing a rugged face that has seen years of labor, laughter, and tears. Even still, his eyes twinkle when he sees us - his daughter's chosen family.

He strolls in from the kitchenette, cradling an old plastic cooler, scuffed with age, lifting it like it was a feather. He sets the cooler down on the coffee table, its wood scarred with rings from years of forgotten coasters, and pops it open to reveal acres of iced soda cans.

He clears his throat, pulling our attention. "Ah, Sam," he nods at me, his voice filled with the warmth of recognition. There's a familiarity there, a bond formed over countless visits and shared memories. "And the rest of the young crew," he chuckles, eyes flitting to each face in turn. "Help yourselves, kiddos," he offers, motioning to the sodas with a sweeping gesture. His voice, though slightly strained from fatigue, carries an unmistakable note of contentment. "And in the meanwhile, I'll be helping myself outside." He says, pulling a cigarette from his pocket, carrying it between his fingers.

Kate, watching her father, has that look in her eyes — a mix of pride and slight embarrassment that only teens can master when their parents are in the spotlight. She rolls her eyes playfully. "Dad, you act like they've never been here before."

He chuckles, "When you're a dad, you'll understand."

That gets a sympathetic chuckle out of me, too. Kate rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out playfully and blowing a raspberry at him, while he retreats to the front porch to get a smoke in. I'm glad that he does it outside - I don't like that he does it, but he's not my dad, and at least he doesn't make the place smell like cigarette smoke.

As we settle in, the atmosphere of Kate's living room immediately wraps around us. Despite its somewhat worn-down look, this place - the closest house to everyone else among the six of us - carries a lot of memories. Marcus scoops up a cushion from Kate's faded couch and wedges it behind him, adjusting for maximum comfort. I peek over his shoulder and see him engrossed in something on his phone. His fingers tap away with a knowing smirk, probably responding to some debate and about to win it, too.

Lilly is dressed today in a vibrant ensemble that somehow combines at least three different patterns – today it looks like polka dots, stripes, and florals - defying all laws of outfit construction and somehow getting away with it. She sways gently, her fingers drumming an accompanying beat on her thigh while she listens to music on big, old, chunky headphones, clasped over her ears.

Jenna, sketchbook in hand, doodles away, engrossed in her world of lines and shades. Occasionally, she nudges Tasha, sitting right next to her with a focused look, muttering to either herself or Jenna. Tasha leans over to look at Jenna's latest masterpiece, her brows furrowing in mock contemplation.

And Kate? She's sprawled out comfortably on the other end of the couch, one leg thrown over the armrest, her head resting against a pile of mismatched cushions. Her domain, her castle. Despite the hardships she faces, this place is her sanctuary, and today she's the queen overseeing her loyal court.

The unmistakable aroma of fresh pizza wafts in, snapping everyone back to the present. Boxes upon boxes arrive, stacked precariously atop each other. The group springs into action, diving into pockets and bags, tossing in a chaotic mix of crumpled bills and shiny coins, hoping it'll be enough to cover the feast. Thankfully, we have enough to both pay the pizza deliver boy and give him 20% tip.

As we munch, there's that familiar, comforting rhythm of laughter, of stories exchanged, gossip whispered, and playful banter thrown across the room. I find myself getting lost in it, letting the voices wash over me like a soothing balm, offering a brief respite from my own unquiet thoughts. I don't have an interesting talent or personality trait I can indulge here, in the indoors, except being a superhero. I don't think Kate's dad would let me do soccer drills indoors, anyway.

Lilly disrupts the brief period of stillness that enveloped us. Mouth stuffed with a gooey slice of blister-inducing cheese pizza, she turns to me, her voice distorted by the delightful mess she's chomping on into a violent mass of sound. "Hey, Sam," she begins, cheese stringing from her lip to the slice, "Have you ever thought about getting a cape? Or maybe, I dunno, some sleek armor? Oh! Or those really cool gloves superheroes always wear in movies?"

I have yet to tell them that I have a name, and a costume, and a team. They're all my age.

My parents need to know. My friends do not.

Marcus rolls his eyes, already preparing his retort. Unlike Lilly, he chews, and then swallows, and then speaks. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. "Seriously? Capes are so first decade. Did you not read 'The Dynamics of Costume Aerodynamics' article I shared last week?" He brandishes his phone towards her with an exaggerated flourish, mockingly, like he's presenting a sacred text, or about to skewer her with a fencing sword, whatever those are called.

The room, which had been filled with the typical buzz of teenage chatter, comes to a pause. It feels like every pair of eyes are now fixed on me.

Shifting uncomfortably, I shrug. "I mean, not everyone needs a cape, right? They seem… impractical? Remember that scene in The Incredibles? 'No capes!'"

Lilly's eyes gleam with mischief. She sticks her tongue out childishly. "I have not watched a twenty year old movie, Sam."

"It's a good movie! Pixar is a good company!" I protest.

"I don't think there's such thing as a 'good company'." Kate retorts.

Tasha, who always has a way of grounding our wildest ideas, adjusts her glasses. Their frames catch the dim glow of her laptop, lending her an intense, focused look. "Kids, back on track. Let's prioritize function over style here, Lilly. Realistically, if Sam's taking this superhero thing to the streets, she's going to need protection. Think durable, protective gear. Forget capes, what she needs is a solid pair of combat boots and maybe some kind of body armor. Where can we get Kevlar?"

Jenna, her eyes wide with enthusiasm, pushes her sketchbook towards me. "Really, have a look! There's one design I made after watching this old anime. It's perfect for stealth and has a cool, dark vibe. Totally badass."

"I don't think they sell Kevlar to children." Kate shoots down.

I lean in, examining the sketches, trying to keep the smile off my face. "Wow, this is… detailed. And you even added a utility belt. What am I gonna use that for? All I can do is smell when people are on their periods."

Jenna chuckles, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh… In one pocket, there is the cure for menopause. In the other, a knife."

Kate, her arms folded, tilts her head to the side, examining the sketches critically. "That all looks chunky. Might want something more lightweight than that. Sam isn't exactly a weightlifting powerhouse."

"Hey!" I shout, punching Kate in the shoulder, non-seriously, of course.

Lilly, dancing around the room with a playful swagger, mimics a superhero pose, fist out. "And we'll put the glitter launcher right here!"

I laugh, a genuine, full-hearted laugh. "Sparkles, Lilly? Really?"

Lilly winks, her finger pointed like a gun. "I think it's a better idea than covering you in knives and kevlar!"

Marcus interjects with a smirk, "And I suppose you're suggesting sequins and glitter bombs as weapons?"

Lilly narrows her eyes, pretending to be offended. "Can you just imagine how embarassing it'd be to be a criminal about to get arrested but you've got glitter everywhere?"

Tasha, rolling her eyes but clearly amused, chimes in, "Yes, covered in glitter and unable to rob a bank because they're too busy trying to get it out of their boxers."

Jenna, her excitement palpable, flips to another page in her sketchbook. "But seriously, Sam, check out this cloak design. I was watching some Victorian stuff with my baba and it just hit me. Think of it, swooping into a scene, cloak billowing behind. It's so romantic!"

I raise an eyebrow, chuckling. "Dramatic entrances aside, how practical is a cloak in a fight?"

Tasha, the ever-practical one, nods in agreement. "It could get caught on something, or someone could use it to restrain you."

Marcus, tapping his fingers on the coffee table, offers, "But it could also serve as a distraction, a tool. What if it's detachable? Then you solve the cape issue and you have a convenient restraint device all in one."

Jenna nods vigorously. "Exactly! It's all about the element of surprise. It increases the size of your silhouette and makes it harder to determine where your torso and chest are. You know. If someone gets a gun. I thought this more through than you'd think!"

Lilly and Tasha both glance at each other.

Kate sighs, rubbing her temples. "I still say you should stick with something more functional than fancy. We don't need more drama."

Marcus gives her a playful nudge. "Speak for yourself! I'm all about the drama."

Lilly looks me up and down with skepticism and mischief in her eyes. "So, let me get this straight," she says, her voice laced with barely contained excitement, "on top of having those badass shark teeth, you're also telling us that you heal like Wolverine?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Like on Animal Planet?" I ask, confused. I shift uncomfortably under her intense gaze.

Before I can dive deeper into the gory details, Marcus, ever the walking encyclopedia, chimes in, a smirk on his face. "From comics. Wolverine is a member of the X-Men, who has a metal skeleton and is basically impossible to kill because he regenerates from everything. They call it a 'healing factor'." Marcus encyclopedizes for us. Encyclopediaizes. This is a word.

I raise an eyebrow at Marcus. "Thanks for the pop culture lesson," I reply dryly. "But, yeah, I guess. I heal super fast. Like, insanely, unbelievably fast. I mean, imagine getting disemboweled--" I begin, my voice growing more animated.

"Okay, okay, we get it," Jenna interjects, looking a bit green as she clutches her stomach. Beside her, Lilly shudders visibly. My smirk widens, and I can't resist showing off my numerous sharp teeth in a mock-threatening grin.

Tasha, with her hair neatly pulled back and her ever-practical demeanor, pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Normally, Sam," she starts, her tone dripping with the weight of responsibility, "when someone suffers the injuries you described, it takes… I don't know, forever? It's a miracle to heal, and then there's a ton of physical therapy and stuff." She throws her hands in the air dramatically. "And you broke your ankle like a week or two ago and it's just fine now?"

I nod enthusiastically, my grin never fading. "Completely fine. I was really worried that it was going to heal crooked or whatever, but the same superpower I guess makes my bones just magically set right?"

"That doesn't make sense," Tasha contests.

"Neither does having shark teeth," I fire back.

"Fair," She concedes.

Jenna, her eyes shining with a mixture of awe and mischief, smirks and tilts her head, the corner of her lips curling up. Tapping her chin thoughtfully with the end of her pen, she says, "So I guess no superhero costume with a mask for you then? It'd be a real crime to hide those impressive teeth of yours."

"Speaking of teeth," I say, ducking the question, "the doctors found something really weird. Check this out." I announce, pulling out the vial of teeth from my overnight bag, displaying them with a flourish. With a smug little smirk, I place them down on the futon's mattress, enjoying the wide-eyed attention from everyone in the room. It's like I've thrown down a winning card in Uno.

Kate leans forward, squinting at the vial before glancing up with a shrug. "You shed teeth all the time. That's not weird." She mutters, sitting closer to me, her elbow propped on her knee.

Everyone looks at her.

Kate's cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she realizes her gaffe. "I mean, like, for you specifically, that's not weird."

I chuckle, feeling the anxiety melt away. "No, that's not the weird part. They didn't get these from my mouth. They got them from my bones." I say, causing everyone to stop what they're doing. "They were, like, embedded inside me. I got to see the x-ray and everything. It was gnarly."

Marcus, who had been typing away furiously on his laptop, looks up, hands paused mid-keystroke. "Woah, that's next-level creepy."

Lilly, with a face of disgust, chirps in, "Horror movie!"

Everyone shares their own variation of disbelief, a mix of gasps, grimaces, and gags. But Tasha, ever the analyst, leans forward, glasses slightly askew, her brows knit in curiosity. "That's intriguing. It might suggest your powers are evolving or… or that they have layers we've yet to understand."

"Like an onion?" Jenna muses.

I roll my eyes, "Sure. A really gross, teeth-y onion."

"Or a parfait," Lilly chimes in.

"A what?" I ask.

"It's a… never mind," she slumps, visibly deflated.

Marcus, still engrossed in his laptop but now clearly engaged in the conversation, chips in. "Sharks have a unique teeth setup, you know. They have several rows of teeth. When one falls out, the next in line moves up to replace it. Could it be a similar mechanism happening with you, Sam?"

Lilly, always the performer, leaps up from the floor with a dramatic gasp. "Hold on, hold on! Maybe you're not just Shark Girl! Maybe you're evolving into… Skeleton Shark or… Bone Bite!" She gives a little dance, her fingers wiggling in front of her face trying to emulate something eerie. "The Chompster!"

Tasha, rolling her eyes at Lilly's antics but smiling all the same, shakes her head. "Marcus, that's not exactly right. Shark's multiple teeth rows are in their gums, not their bones. Also, are we even sure they're teeth? Not to out-geek you here, but sharks have scutes. Maybe Sam's growing scutes." Her eyes gleam with the nerdy excitement that only Tasha can muster about things like shark anatomy. She picks up the vial and rattles it around a little bit. "The thought of Sam growing scutes? That's kind of fascinating."

Kate, leaning back and trying to suppress her laughter, throws in, "Isn't a scute what a car does? You know, scoot scoot!" She emphasizes with a little driving motion, making engine noises, honking a mimed horn.

Jenna giggles, "Or maybe Sam's just really into the tooth fairy?"

Marcus, lost behind the glow of his laptop, takes a moment to process before he pushes his glasses up his nose. "Actually, Tasha," he starts with a smirk that suggests he's been waiting for an opportunity like this, "going to have to one-up you here. Those things on a shark? They're called… denticles. Scutes are on turtles, not sharks."

Tasha's entire body deflates.

Kate, unable to resist poking fun, slaps her knee, a smirk forming on her lips. "Dentacles? I thought we were talking about sharks, not octopuses."

"Octopi." Lilly corrects her.

"Octopodes, technically." Tasha corrects her.

"English is a fake language that is not real." Jenna quotes, and everyone nods in agreement.

Mirroring an internet video we've all seen too many times, everyone stares at the ceiling, spreads their arms in a T-pose, and intones in a low, booming voice; "Postmodernism."

I raise my arms defensively, rolling my eyes in exasperation. "Come on, you guys. Let's not get all dramatic about this. I promise I'm not turning into some weird shark monster. No denticles, no scutes, definitely no scales. It's just… teeth. Bizarre, growing-inside-my-bones kind of teeth." Taking a second to replay what I just said in my mind, I grimace. "I change my mind, I hate that sentence. Please kill me."

Giggles and chuckles bubble up amidst our group, and I can see the tension starting to break, but Kate is quick to ground us back in reality. She raises an eyebrow at me, her concern evident in her tone. "Look, before we start fantasizing about names and designing flashy costumes, we need to get a clear grasp on your capabilities, Sam. It's crucial, especially if you're still hell-bent on this… hero path. Yeah, yeah. We've got the teeth, the creepy blood-sniffing thing, and, surprise, healing factor. Is there something else weird we should know about? Do sharks do more weird shit?"

Tasha, who's always prepared with a wealth of knowledge, glances at me, one eyebrow arching in a way that makes me feel like I'm about to get a lecture. Her fingers dance over her laptop keys. "Well, if you're going shark route, there's a lot to consider. For starters, sharks can pick up on electromagnetic fields. They also have a pretty heightened sense of hearing, especially for low-frequency sounds. Think you've got any of that?"

"I do not think I can detect electromagnetic fields, or hear low frequency sounds. Maybe if Kate farts," I joke, and Kate swats me on the shoulder.

Marcus jumps in eagerly. "Oh, and let's not forget, some sharks, if you flip them on their backs, go into this weird, trance-like state. It's called tonic immobility."

Lilly shoots up from her seat with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Okay, someone grab her legs! Time to see if Sam's got a flip switch!"

I shake my head. "Please do not flip me."

Before Lilly can protest or make another exaggerated gesture, Kate grabs a stray popcorn kernel and lobs it at her. Lilly catches it with an over-the-top gasp, clutching her chest like she's been mortally wounded. "Hey! No flipping the superhero," Kate admonishes with a smirk.

In an attempt to ease the tension, Jenna grabs a piece of popcorn from Kate's bowl and throws it at her. Kate retaliates, tossing a handful in Jenna's direction like buckshot. Within seconds, popcorn artillery sears the air in butter-flavored streaks - although, thankfully, they're not actually covered in any liquid butter. That would suck. Tasha ducks to avoid getting hit, while Marcus, being Marcus, uses his laptop as a makeshift shield.

When the chaos subsides, we collapse into fits of laughter, while I scoop up discarded kernels into a paper towel so I can dump them in the trash. I feel a little bad for wasting food in Kate's house, but I think it's worth its entertainment value in cents spent on corn.

Breathing heavily after our impromptu popcorn battle, Jenna looks around and notes, "It's almost like middle school again. Except for the fact that one of us might be a superhero now. That's different."

Lilly rolls her eyes dramatically. "And except for the fact that Sam might be the next big thing since… I don't know, Aquaman?"

Marcus laughs. "I'd say Wonder Woman, but let's try to stay a little humble."

Tasha, ever the planner, grabs a notepad, hoping to get us as far away from additional popcorn battles as possible, while Jenna and Lilly each grab more pizza. "Okay, let's brainstorm some names. And no," she glances at Lilly, "not 'Water Gal'."

Marcus, eyes glued to his computer screen, excitedly chimes in, "What if we pull from mythology? Like 'Charybdis' or 'Scylla'? Those were badass sea monsters. Or 'Triton'? God of the sea and all."

"I think Scylla is already taken. By some lady in Hoboken." Tasha comments. "A real badass, too, she straight up kills mafia members and stuff like that."

I cough a little bit into a chuckle. "There's a mafia in Hoboken?"

"Where's Hoboken?" Lilly asks.

"New Jersey," Tasha and I answer in the same breath.

"Then yes." She says, with an air of quiet finality.

Jenna twirls a pencil in her hair. "True, but she also has that insane regeneration thing. That's not purely oceanic. It's like a phoenix rising from its ashes. A rebirth."

Lilly claps her hands. "Phoenix? That's dope! You don't need to emphasize the teeth. Just do the healing stuff."

Marcus retorts, "That's taken by an X-Man. Like, the most important one, too."

"It's not Wolverine?" I ask.

"I mean, in terms of popularity, yes, it's probably Wolverine. In terms of plot, no, that's probably Phoenix," Marcus answers.

"Extremely arguable," Lilly chides.

Marcus rolls his eyes at her. "Whatever, nerd."