Give me orange juice.
The drink was acceptable, but tasted like the juice sold in stores; a somewhat stale taste, clearly from concentrate. I was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Dad to come home. It was 5:00, and he usually got back between 5:30 and 6:00, so I was experimenting to pass the time. Orange juice was one of the first things I had tried with my power, for no reason other than how convenient and easy to explain it was. Being able to summon it at will was nice, though I avoided doing it too much if only because of some of the things I had read about sugar.
Give me freshly squeezed orange juice.
It was much tastier, though it didn't have any pulp. I had learned early on that I couldn't do solids, even if they were suspended in a liquid. Nanoparticles such as the silica in my armor were apparently an exception, though they were small enough that I wasn't sure they counted as solid.
Give me the liquid in an orange.
It tasted pretty much the same as the freshly squeezed juice.
Give me the juice from the fruit I am thinking of right now.
A spike of pain. I had expected as much.
Give me orange juice without sugar.
I made the mistake of tasting it. I immediately spat the remainder into the sink, and filled a glass with water - from the tap, not my power - to wash away the taste. It wasn't enough. I filled another glass with more freshly squeezed orange juice to cover the taste.
Now that I was no longer in the same building as my nineteen comatose victims, I was starting to have second thoughts about everything I had agreed to. I knew it was probably because of my imminent confrontation with Dad, but I was having the urge to put things off again. I didn't need to join the Wards today after all - or even tomorrow. It could wait.
But there was no real way to justify a delay.
I was also having second thoughts about revealing myself to the school. The PRT agent - John - had seemed confident that he could get the administration to help, but I wasn't so sure.
I read through the papers again, waiting for Dad to get home.
"Hey Taylor," said Dad.
"Hey Dad," I said. He was taking off his shoes by the front door, and my stomach was filled with butterflies. I held the papers under the table - I would need to tell him soon, but I wanted to at least do so on my own terms, not as a response to his question.
Unfortunately, he picked up on something - my behavior, or my body language, maybe. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah Dad. It's fine. Um," I faltered.
He looked concerned. "Is it, um...is school going okay?"
He can't even say what he means. Can't even reference the bullies directly.
"Yes, it's fine." A heartbeat. "Actually, no, it isn't. The bullies, they..."
"They're...still at it, then?" He sat down slowly, across from me. "What -" he hesitated. You can ask what they did, Dad. It's not like I can forget anyway.
"They - Dad, um, I need to tell you something. A few things, actually."
He nodded but didn't speak. I think he was afraid to interrupt, that things might go back to how they were before. Neither of us wanted that.
"First - the bullies? It's Emma."
His eyes widened. "Emma - Barnes? Your best friend?"
"She hasn't been my friend for a long time Dad. Not since - since summer camp."
"So all this time - and Alan didn't -" After the initial shock, his expression turned to anger. No - rage. It was a little frightening, but I knew it wasn't directed at me.
"Fuck - sorry Taylor, I didn't -"
"It's fine Dad. I feel the same way."
"I'm going to call him right now and-"
"Dad!"
He stopped. "Dad, wait. There's more, and it's important."
He sat back down in the chair, but his shoulders were still tensed, his brow still furrowed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? No, sorry - I didn't mean to - I'm not blaming you for anything. Please, go on."
I took a deep breath. This was it.
"Dad? I'm a cape."
"You -" He blinked. "Uh-"
"I have powers. I've had them since - since January."
"Oh..."
Silence. "Dad?"
"Sorry Taylor, I'm just - processing this. I assume -"
I nodded. "I figured it out in the hospital. I can - well, I'll show you."
I raised my glass. Give me some water. It began filling.
"Wow." he said. "So you can - can create water, then? Uh, hydrokinesis?"
"That's not exact what hydrokinesis is, Dad. But no - I mean yes, but that isn't it."
I poured out the glass and tried again. Give me freshly squeezed orange juice. I handed it to him.
"OJ?"
I nodded. He tasted it. "It's good."
"I can make any liquid," I said. "I can even make liquids I don't know about, if I ask the right questions."
"I don't quite follow."
"It's not important. Um, the important thing is, it's a useful power, and I think I can use it to do some good."
"Taylor, were you...doing good last night?"
I was silent.
"I heard you come back in. Wondered where you were."
"Yeah," I said. "I was...patrolling. Looking for crimes to stop."
"Taylor! This city isn't safe at that hour! Where did you go?"
I laughed a little. "Dad - I'm a cape. I can defend myself."
"Do you have super strength? Force fields? Do you heal fast? No? Taylor, powers don't make you invincible. You could get hurt - you shouldn't be out there."
"I'm fine!"
I shouted that last bit. We both paused. "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, just - you're right. What I did - it was stupid. I just - I had to do something. School was like - I felt like nothing was going right. I needed to make a difference."
"Taylor - I just want you to be safe." I nodded. He sighed. "God, I don't know what to do. I didn't think ever think something like this could happen. I mean, I've heard the statistics, and being a cape is dangerous. Lots of new capes die."
"I know Dad. I shouldn't have gone out alone. I made some mistakes. That's why I need a team."
"A team? A - a cape team? Taylor - "
"I can't just not use my powers! Not when I can make a difference."
"Ok, but - "
"I'm thinking I'll join the Wards, Dad."
"Do you have to go out in costume at all? Couldn't you just use your power to make a living? It seems like the sort of thing you could make into a decent career."
"Not being a hero won't necessarily protect me. Others will want my power, and if I don't have a team..."
He thought about that. "So you're saying just having a power makes you a target?"
I nodded. He sighed. "I guess that makes sense. I don't like it, but it makes sense. So you're thinking of joining a team? Making a team?
"Joining a team. The Wards." I pulled the paperwork out from under the table. He looked at it.
"What is this?"
"Paperwork. I went down to the PRT today and talked to Armsmaster." I didn't mention that I had left school early. It didn't seem relevant to what I was saying. "I, um, kind of messed up last night, when I went out."
"Messed up how?" He took the first page, eyes running over it without really reading. I could tell he was focused on me, rather than the paper.
"I, uh, kind of hurt some gang members pretty bad? And a PRT officer, but that part was an accident."
"Gang members? What were you-"
"I couldn't just ignore them, they were going to kill kids! Well, the kids turned out to be more villains, but-"
"Okay, that's-so you went down to the PRT building, and then?"
"I spoke to Armsmaster about it. He was pretty upset, but he said it wouldn't be a problem if I joined the Wards."
Dad blinked. "Wait - stop." I stopped.
"He threatened you into join the Wards?"
"I - well, not exactly like - it wasn't like he said 'join the Wards' or else. He - I was in trouble because of some, some side effects of the poi- stuff I had been using in the fight, and he said that they could forgive it, and then-"
"Taylor, I take it you didn't have a lawyer present?" I shook my head. "And they didn't offer one? Explain your rights to you?" He looked like he was angry, but trying very hard to keep his voice level.
"Oh, I wasn't being arrested. I asked him as much."
"So they weren't taking actual legal action against you? They just hinted that they might if you didn't join?"
"Yes - I guess that's - yes."
"Ok. So you aren't actually in trouble. They're impressed with you, want you to join. What do you get out of it? Besides a team, I mean."
"That's covered in this, but basically they give me a trust fund, a minimum wage salary, and funds for tinkering."
"That's it?"
"Well, yeah, pretty much. I wanted them to transfer me to Arcadia too, but they said it wasn't possible until the Spring."
He stared at me. "And what did you say to that?"
"What do you mean? It's impossible - the waitlist is full, and, um, my grades have kind of...gone downhill since, um..."
He grimaced at the reminder. "Taylor, just because they say something is impossible doesn't mean it is. I don't imagine it's easy for them to get Arcadia to make an exception - they probably have to expend some political capital, call in a few favors - but claiming something is impossible is the oldest trick in the book. You have leverage over them; you can't just give in to their first offer."
"Leverage? I don't think I do - I mean, I took out Lung for them, but-"
"Lung?" His eyes bugged out. "Taylor, what - you fought Lung?"
I nodded. "It wasn't dangerous, though. I knocked him out first. I mean, I guess it was dangerous, but it turned out ok, so"
"I - okay, let's just table that for the moment. Wait - some of the guys were talking about - I thought Armsmaster said he captured Lung last night?"
I nodded. "That was to protect me from retaliation by Lung's allies, um, Bakuda and Oni Lee."
"I see. So everybody thinks Armsmaster is responsible for capturing Lung, and, incidentally, whatever else happened during that fight. So then how can they threaten you with anything?"
"I - I said it wasn't exactly a threat, more like - a warning. He was trying to tell me that I needed a team, and I think he was right."
"Taylor, I'm all for you having a team. If you have to be a hero, I would rather there be some adults out there watching out for you. But it doesn't sound as though they actually have any leverage over you."
"Um, you keep talking about leverage -"
He sighed. "Taylor, we need to have a discussion about negotiation tactics. You have something they want, and they have something you want. And I'll be damned if any daughter of mine is just going to cave at the first counteroffer. "
