The Sunshine Boy and the Weaver King

Chapter One

Anthony Li was a college freshman. That meant his meals were primarily microwavable, he never fell into bed before midnight (excluding naps), and he spent most of his time feeling too awkward to function.

He'd put some thought into it, and he'd decided that he was fine with his life being miserable so long as it was ordinarily so. Problem was, "college freshman" was only one half of his identity. The other half was "really bad beginner superhero," which was decidedly unordinary.

In a city packed with heroes and villains, he was one of the least skilled. After a few months of horrible losses and scathing media responses, he'd pretty much given up. But that didn't mean his powers had. They hummed below the surface of his skin, begging to be unleashed.

Before college, it was easy. He'd simply shut himself in his bedroom, shut the windows, pull the curtains closed, and thread sunlight through and around his fingertips for hours at a time, until the humming stopped.

But now he had a roommate.

Nicholas Maddox Anton was as high-maintenance as his name would entail, and outside of his classes he very rarely left the comfort of his sectioned off area of the dorm room, thus making Anthony a literal stressed out ball of sunshine.

"So," Anthony said, sitting cross-legged on his bed, "you don't have plans this weekend."

Maddox set his pencil deliberately onto his notebook. "No," he said slowly, "I do not."

Anthony tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "Why not?"

"I'm sorry," Maddox said in an unapologetic tone, "since when do you care about my social life?"

Maddox had what one might call an aggressive personality, tucked behind a very calm, expressionless exterior. It resulted in a lot of rhetorical questions and snarled smiles.

"Well," Anthony said, "I don't. I just thought... I thought that since you have more friends than I do that you'd maybe meet up with them every once in a while."

Maddox quirked an eyebrow. "I see them in class, and occasionally in town. By accident."

Anthony squirmed. "I'm going to be honest."

Maddox sighed loudly and looked back at his notes. "By all means."

"Cool," Anthony said, flashing a tentative smile that Maddox didn't catch. "I feel like we see too much of each other."

When Maddox didn't respond, Anthony continued, "We have, like, two or three hours to ourselves each day. Out of twenty-four. Isn't that— Wouldn't you agree that that's too much?"

"No one's stopping you from going outside, Anthony," Maddox said.

No one except his own anxiety and dislike of walking when he didn't have a destination. Besides, the last thing he needed was sunlight.

He fought the urge to let the heat pool in his palms and took up a yoga pose, with his knuckles resting on his kneecaps. Summoning up bravery, he said, "I could say the same to you."

Maddox flicked ice blue gaze up to meet Anthony's honey brown one. The latter of the two blinked quickly. The former was unflinching.

"Do you have a problem with me?" Maddox asked.

Yes.

No.

Kind of?

Anthony debated on whether or not he should say, "It's not you, it's me," but decided against it.

"No," he said instead.

It lacked conviction even to himself, and Maddox— who was frustratingly observant when he chose to be— heard it right away.

"You're a terrible liar," Maddox informed him blandly.

"I'm not lying," Anthony said. "I don't have a problem with you, per se. I have a problem with people. In that I'm bad at being around them."

"Anthony." Maddox shoved aside his notes, textbooks, and pencils. Anthony couldn't help but inch backward, unused to Maddox's full attention. "There are plenty of places around campus that no one goes. It wouldn't kill you to look around."

Anthony's fingers tightened around his bedsheets. How— without sounding like a massive snob— did he explain the awful knotted up feeling he got in his gut whenever he tried to explore? He couldn't. The unknown terrified him, even when the unknown was simply a slightly different route from the one he always walked.

He had even arrived on campus and moved in nearly a week early so he could memorize every path he'd be taking. He jogged every route twice and walked four times so he would know the average amount of time to get to all those places.

Maddox was still watching him through his fringe of dyed navy blue hair, so, numbly, Anthony said "Okay," and got to his feet.

He wasn't really dressed to go out. He had on a loose t-shirt and sweatpants that hung too low on his hips, and he knew that if either of his parents saw him they'd smack him upside the head and make him change at least his pants. But Anthony choked on Maddox Anton's air, and he needed an outlet before he lost his mind.

He grabbed his backpack and lanyard off the floor and took a few halting steps toward the door.

When his fingers wrapped around the knob, he cast a final glance over his shoulder at his roommate.

Maddox had gone back to studying and paying zero attention to him. For some odd reason, Anthony found that a relief. He'd hoped, and maybe prayed a little, that he wouldn't get a roommate who wanted to know all the details of Anthony's life. Maybe he'd prayed a little too hard— he hadn't wanted the personification of apathy, either.

"Later," he said, and was surprised to see Maddox briefly lift his fingers in a half-hearted wave.

The door shut quietly behind him, and Anthony double-checked his keys, backpack, and shoes, before he set off down the hallway.

He only got a few steps toward the staircase when the soft, electric-like hum beneath his skin turned to actual heat. A thin sheen of sweat now covered his forehead and upper lip.

Even in the shadows of the building's empty halls, his body ached for release.

He took a a shuddery breath and blazed a path to the bathroom. He shoved open the stall door and slammed the lock into place. The sound echoed in the empty space, and Anthony opened his hands to try to let the light out a little at a time.

His chest ached with every miniscule pulse of light that left his fingertips. It was like fairy light. Gentle yellow orbs lifting into the air. But not enough.

He gritted his teeth and swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. Beads of sweat sizzled against his skin and left behind powdery bits of salt.

"Shit," he breathed.

Pure sunlight burst from his hands.

It went through the stall door like nothing short of a laser beam. He choked on the power, stumbled as it shuddered through him. He fell against one of the sinks, and when he tried to grab onto it, his hand sank through the metal like it was loose sand.

Anthony had only burned out once in his life.

Not again, he told himself. You made a promise.

He swung his body toward the outside wall, and the light went straight through it, until real light shown through. He heard the startled shrieks of the people outside and used that to rein in his power.

When he finally got the light to fade to gentle pulses of warmth in his skin again, he ran.