The Sunshine Boy and the Weaver King

Chapter Two

Anthony grew up running. His mom and dad both had powers, but they both existed in the gray moral territory, making them leap through increasingly difficult hoops to avoid making choices between hero and villain. After Anthony was born, the authorities pushed even harder, going so far as to threaten to take Anthony away. After that, they disappeared. At least, that was the story as they told it to him.

Anthony had no idea what his real name was. He had no idea what his mother's real name or his father's real name were.

All he knew was that he spent the later half of his childhood in Arrow Valley— everything before that was a blur—, a calm, sweet town in southern Arizona. He grew up in blistering sunlight, growing both more tan and more powerful than his parents could have predicted.

He was jumped on by a stray dog. It terrified him— his mother would later tell him that she heard his shrieks in the backyard and thought he was being murdered. The dog had dug a hole under the fence that no one had noticed until it was on top of Anthony.

No one had noticed Anthony's hands start to glow either, until the dog was on top of him and he was screaming in terror, and the dog exploded in fiery ash that he would later have to scrub off his skin in the bath tub.

His mother had stopped several feet away, out of breath and wide-eyed with shock.

He would never forget the one moment where she looked at him and there was fear in her eyes. He would never forget it because seeing her afraid of him scared him more than anything else in the entire world.

Now that memory was all he could think about, even as his feet pounded out a dull rhythm on the pavement, his earphones on, his gaze darting nervously from person to person, like he expected someone to jump out of an alleyway screaming "There! There's the guy that destroyed the men's bathroom!"

He thought going for a run was a good excuse. In hindsight, it was not. It wasn't a good excuse because it meant he had to pass a lot of people who were also going on a run. Several people had tried to run with him, and he felt so awkward trying to make small talk— and completely failing at it— that he pushed himself to run faster each time.

He was almost sprinting now, even though his lungs felt like they were being squeezed empty and there was a cramp in his side.

He had no idea what to do.

For a second, he wanted to call his mom, and then he reminded himself that his parents had been so angry at him for enrolling in college after a life of homeschool that they left the state and didn't tell him where they were going. He was on his own.

He stopped running and hunched over to catch his breath.

After another girl ran past, he realized he was still standing on the sidewalk, kind of in the way, apologized to no one, and stepped off into the grass.

Realistically, he had to go back eventually.

He knew that, but it didn't stop him from sitting down heavily on a bench and dropping his head into his hands, thinking of all the ways out of Arizona. There were a lot. He sat there for several hours— which was actually long enough to carry out one of the plans he created, hypothetically.

Powers were not allowed at Campton University. He had to falsify a document when he applied to say he only had 10% or less powered blood in his DNA, when in reality he was 100%. He figured that was the best way to stay hidden, but maybe he'd been wrong about everything. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to be normal.

The more he thought about it, the more panicked his breathing got.

You needed a Campton ID to get into the dorm building. That meant that if the college looked into it (they would) they'd know that one of their students had been the one to either A) give the men's bathroom a laser treatment or B) bring in a friend or acquaintance who had given the men's bathroom a laser treatment. The guest list was set up next to the doors inside. Every guest had to write down their name and the time they were there.