"Mark Johnson, you're dead!" came the shout. Mark stood abruptly to his feet and spun around to see who had threatened him. It was Kevin, a boy from Mark's high school. And Mark knew why he was angry. Mark turned and ran. What was the most terrifying about Kevin is that when someone pulls a stunt like Mark did, they pretty much were dead already. Might as well be. And not the sort of thing, like "Imma make your life miserable, twerp." Like, he actually killed people. Kevin had the ability to beat the pulp out of people. He was large and bulky, naturally and supernaturally strong. Sometimes in his anger he accidentally ended the life of the weaker kids. Mark had scarcely survived his last negative encounter with Kevin in third grade.
"You can run!" Kevin shouted from behind. "But you can't hide!"
Mark inwardly kicked himself. It had been stupid to take the dare. Lucille Maxim had convinced Mark to steal Kevin's gym clothes and flush them down the toilet. Guess that's what he got for being friends with a mischievous mind-control girl.
"I'll get you back for this, Lucille," Mark groaned in his head. Then he saw a girl in the corner. Francis. The girl with the mind-reading ability. Also, Lucille's best friend. Mark's face paled.
Francis! I know you were looking in my mind! Don't you dare tell Lucille! he thought. Francis smiled guiltily and scurried away.
"Francis!" Mark shouted after her. "You get back here!"
Francis just giggled, running faster. Mark pounded up the stairs, Kevin on his heels. Mark slid into his dorm and locked the door. Kevin smashed through the door like it was nothing. Mark took multiple steps back. Kevin was blocking the door, breathing hard. The only way out was the window. Mark glanced back at it and took a deep breath. No time to look. No time to plan. He went for it, diving backwards and out the window, doing a backflip so he was facing the wall. He caught a windowsill on his way down and swung into the room. Luckily, the window was open. Mark hit the ground rolling and came up on one knee, hands on the floor, looking around. He was in the cafeteria.
"Mark!" gasped the cook. "What are you doing?"
"Escaping Kevin," Mark gasped. "Can I hide in the kitchen."
"You're much too old for hiding now, Mark. You need to face your problems."
"But I'm built to run!"
"Then run all you need. But there will be no hiding in this school for you."
"Jerry can hide."
"He turns invisible, Mark. We can't really keep him from it. At this school we teach you to use your abilities for good, and to be courageous, do we not?"
"Yes, we do, but--"
"Then learn it! Like you learn math or science in other schools, learn to be courageous in this one!"
"But I'm not built for courage! I'm made for cowardice!"
"That is not all your power is good for, young man. Running is not always to flee. Sometimes it is to rescue. You're chasing a kidnapper down the street. He slows and turns a sharp turn. You don't need to slow, however, and use your agility to turn the corner without slowing. Is that cowardice?"
"No."
"And there are many more uses for your abilities than even that! Fleeing is not what you are built for. Agility is just another form of strength or endurance. Use it."
"Yes ma'am."
"Now get out and don't come back 'till dinner."
As Mark exited the cafeteria, he spied Kevin approaching, fury still clear on his face.
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