The Adventures of SuperTroy

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Troy was hot. Had the A/C quit working? He threw off his blanket but that didn’t help. He checked the registers; yep, cool air was flowing. His skin itched, particularly on his arms, and he had an uneasy sense that something momentous was about to happen. But at 2:47 in the f*****g morning? Troy lay back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. He tried playing a video game or two but his heart wasn’t in it.

“God, I’m f*****g losing it.”

He rubbed at his arms again. Was he running a temperature? He went into his bathroom and fished in the medicine chest for the ear thermometer—98.5.

“Normal.”

He spied the shower head over the tub. Maybe a cool shower would help.

It didn’t.

Surviving the rest of the night was hell. Getting through breakfast with his mom seemingly watching every move he made was…worse. All Troy wanted to do was scratch the skin off his arms, they burned and itched so much. He’d put on a silk long-sleeve shirt which had raised a few eyebrows. Troy had told his folks that he’d read how natural fibers were best in hot weather.

“Yes, but maybe not black,” his dad said.

“Was thinking about hanging out at the mall some this morning. Does anyone need anything?” Troy needed a drugstore where hopefully they’d have some ointment or something for his arms.

“No, not me,” his mom said, offering him another slice of toast.

“No thanks,” Troy said, already rising from his seat.

“I’m running low on safety razors,” his dad said. “You remember the brand I like?”

Troy nodded and left the kitchen, finally giving into his need to scratch.

* * * *

The temps outside were running a good twenty degrees hotter than normal, so Troy appreciated the mall’s air conditioning. Maybe, as he headed for the drugstore, he’d spot someone else who needed help. Hopefully not George though. Troy wondered if this bout of itching had something to do with him turning down the tuohygan thing. So maybe, hopefully, if he could offer someone assistance, the f*****g itching would quit.

Armed with the strongest gunk the drugstore had, plus a box of his father’s razors, Troy made his way towards the mall’s exit. However, on seeing a sign for the restrooms, he hit upon the idea of ducking inside and applying some of the cream.

The stuff did feel soothing but the effect only lasted a few seconds. By the time Troy had put his shirt back on and was heading out of the bathroom, his arms were just as itchy as ever. Maybe he should go see someone at the CSA. Hopefully they’d know what the f**k was going on.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Troy from behind and lifted him off his feet. “Yo, T—”

Blood pumped in Troy’s ears and he acted without thinking. He kicked his legs backward and leaned forward. His attacker flew over Troy’s head and landed on the tiles with a loud thud.

“Ouch!” his attacker groaned, still on the ground.

Troy’s vision cleared and he saw a security guard’s uniform and the face of the man wearing it. “Joe?”

“Uh, yeah.” Joe coughed and made to rise. “f**k, man. Where’d you learn moves like that?” Joe had been a couple grades ahead of Troy in high school. The behemoth had been one of the linemen on the football team.

Troy gave Joe a hand up. “Sorry, dude, you took me by surprise. You okay?”

“Uh, think so. Just winded.” Joe brushed himself down. “Seriously, man, you been pumping iron or something?” He eyed Troy, who couldn’t help flexing. “Those guns.” Joe reached out and gave Troy’s right biceps a squeeze. “Impressive! You’re kinda bursting out of that shirt though.”

Troy looked down. What the f**k? His guns had gotten bigger. And they’d stopped burning. He shook his head. f*****g weird.

“What you been doing with yourself?” Joe’s words pulled Troy out of his daze. “Heard you didn’t become a sotan.”

“Uh, no. Long story.” Troy ducked his head.

“Thought that was, like, destined.” Joe twisted the top half of his body and grimaced.

“You okay? Sorry I was so rough. I didn’t know…” Troy felt an urge to gather the larger man up in a hug and take care of him. He shook off the notion.

“I’m fine. Couple trips to the chiropractor and I’ll be good as new.”

“Sorry.” Troy ducked his head again and tried to offer Joe money, which Joe refused.

The conversation moved to safer topics, including Joe showing ultrasound pictures of his unborn baby. It just looked like a fuzzy blob to Troy but he hoped he made appropriate sounds of approval.

“Ruby’s worried she won’t get her figure back after this little guy pops out,” Joe said, tucking his cell back in his pocket. At least that hadn’t gotten smashed when Joe hit the deck.

Troy laughed. Ruby and Joe had been high school sweethearts. He kinda envied their closeness. He’d wished he’d had someone special but had always comforted himself with the knowledge his skol would be chosen for him later and…Troy shut that thought down.

Joe got a call on his radio and although Troy would have loved to have hung out more with his teammate, even helped out in a rescue or an arrest or whatever, he thought he’d taken up enough of Joe’s time already, so they parted with a fist bump, a promise to stay in touch, and a further apology from Troy.

* * * *

Troy was dismayed to find his biceps had returned to their normal size by the next morning. He’d kinda gotten off on how big and strong they’d made him look. Alas, alongside the reduced muscles came the return of the burning pains.

As his mom didn’t need her car, Troy decided to drive rather than take the bus to his conditioning session. He called Adam to offer the guy a lift, kind of repaying the compliment of a few days earlier when Adam had picked him up.

Adam, sounding despondent, said coach had ripped him a new one because he’d be gone for the next few days visiting family.

“Ouch!” Troy said in sympathy. “Didn’t you get him to agree the absence earlier?”

“Forgot. That’s why coach’s so pissed.” Adam sighed. “I’d much rather be working out or hanging with you than visiting my lame family.”

Troy sympathized with his friend and promised they’d catch up when Adam got back. That seemed to lift his friend’s mood.

* * * *

Troy didn’t know what made him turn left instead of right at the next intersection. The only thing of interest up there was the lake. He smiled at the thought of a refreshing swim. Coach had been tough on them at practice and Troy’s ass was dragging. So much so, he’d left the locker room without showering. He hadn’t realized until he’d gotten into the car how much he stank. Hopefully a splash around would cool him down and maybe soothe his burning arms.

He frowned when he realized he didn’t have his suit with him. His briefs would have to do.

“s**t!” He was wearing Superman underwear, part of the batch Lizzie had gotten him. Hopefully no one would see him.

This hope was dashed when the beach came into view—the very crowded beach.

Stepping out of the car, he was dazzled by the sun reflecting off the water. Troy ducked back into the vehicle for his shades. Hearing a sudden burst of shouting and screaming, Troy straightened and focused on a group of people right at the water’s edge. One guy either tripped or was pushed. His arms flailed as he fell, almost in slow motion, towards the lake. Those around him found it amusing but judging by the man’s swearing and continued flailing, he clearly didn’t. And neither did Troy.

Blood pumping in his ears and feeling a sudden burst of energy, Troy shot up into the air, let out a yell of surprise, and flew over the parking lot towards the lake. Troy swooped down and plucked the struggling man out of the water before depositing him safely back on the beach, several yards from the edge.

The whooshing in Troy’s ears remained, but he was pretty sure the crowd of onlookers had fallen silent. His arms had stopped burning.

“Oh my God!” the man said loudly.

“You okay?” Troy asked the sopping wet man. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?” Troy patted the man’s arms and spine, but couldn’t detect anything wrong.

“Thank you,” the man said, teeth chattering.

“You’re welcome.” cold.

Seeming to get a hold of himself, the guy asked, “Wow, rescued by a sotan.”

“Uh, no. I’m not a sotan.” It was beginning to sink in. He’d flown, genuinely flown.

The man stood on tiptoe and laid a soft kiss on Troy’s slightly parted lips. “Don’t know how you can fly and not be a sotan, but whatever. You’re still my hero.”

Troy’s lips tingled. Not the unbearable burning of his skin earlier, just a pleasant cool…tingle. Troy let go the man’s shoulders and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “Dude! I’m glad you’re okay and all, but I’m not gay.”

The man looked confused, shook his head then smiled. “My gaydar’s never wrong.”

“Your what?”

“Gaydar. It’s a way of spotting other gay men.”

Troy frowned. “Well, whatever you call it, it’s wrong this time. I’m straight.” He took a few steps backward. Everyone was looking at him…them. A few had their cell phones out, filming them.

“Sorry if I upset you,” the man said, coming close and touching Troy’s arm.

Troy took another step back. “Uh, that’s okay. If you’re okay then I’ll go. Just be more careful near the water, okay?” He knew he was babbling. His unease wasn’t helped by the number of people watching and recording. He hoped this wouldn’t get on the local news.

Although a few people asked him questions, nobody stood in his way and he was able to return to the car. He discovered he’d flown off in such a hurry, he’d left the driver’s door wide open. Thankfully nothing appeared to be missing.

As he drove home, Troy glanced down at his arms. Sure enough, the bulging biceps were back. f*****g weird, he thought. He also felt tired. Clearly flying had exhausted him. That was a good thing. Maybe he’d sleep better that night.