Page 13 of The Not So Super Hero

T he campus was dead to where it was almost eerie.

There were no rowdy kids running about the sidewalks, no cars passing back and forth, honking at jaywalkers or moving at a snail’s pace.

Students enjoyed their break by slumbering until the late hours of the afternoon or they went home.

Only a handful of people littered the streets.

They spoke amongst themselves and disappeared into their homes with an excessive amount of food.

Bailey planned on being one of those people.

Upon arriving at the local supermarket, Bailey retrieved a buggy and kicked off towards the doors.

Since he wasn’t going home, he would attempt a meal.

He never made a turkey before. He could make a mean gravy and macaroni salad, though, which counted for something, right?

At least he told himself that because it made him feel a little more adult-like.

If only he could learn how to do his taxes, then basically he’d be a functioning member of society.

Amery and Ryan had gone home to spend the five-day break with their families. Sometimes it sucked being so far from home. It seemed he was meant to eat alone this weekend.

A sense of melancholy drifted over Bailey as he perused the crowded aisles.

With work, school, friends and, hell, even Zane, he hadn’t the time to feel homesick.

He was always so busy. His mind was filled with friends or school, so it was hard to think about home, his mom, his dad, his friends, and hometown. However, now he definitely missed them.

Sighing, Bailey peered at the few turkeys left.

He did not know how to pick out a ‘good turkey.’ His mom normally stood there eying the birds for a good ten minutes before choosing.

Bailey reached for the first one he saw and hoped for the best. When he got to the dorms, he grabbed his groceries.

The bags were heavy, and he didn’t want them to rip before he got to his room.

He considered sitting them in the lounge’s fridge since the stove was in there, however, he worried people wouldn’t ignore a whole turkey.

Who knew what someone might do if they opened the fridge to find all the food Bailey bought?

Sure, he was willing to share, but what if they took it without asking?

He wasn’t going without some sort of turkey dinner tomorrow.

Scurrying inside, Bailey somehow made it to the elevator without the bags ripping. However, the moment the elevator doors opened to reveal Zane within, the bags tore and sent everything to the floor with a couple of thumps.

He didn’t dare look down to see if anything spilled. Zane stared, a wicked smirk staining his face. Snorting, he locked eyes with Bailey’s, showing nothing but pure amusement.

“Fuck you,” Bailey spat, which caused Zane to chuckle. He stepped out of the elevator, pushing his cart of cleaning supplies. The doors closed behind him.

“I didn’t do anything,” Zane said, lingering by Bailey.

“Yes you did!” Bailey accused him, pointing a finger in Zane’s face, which he swatted away immediately. “My bags were fine until I saw you.”

“So your bags ripped because you saw me?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, Zane turned to walk away, although Bailey wouldn’t allow that. He grabbed the man by his uniform, tugging on the upper half that he had wrapped around his waist. Growling, he glared at Bailey and asked, “What?”

“Lend me a bag, won’t you?” Bailey pointed to the smaller trash bags on the cart.

“No.”

“Please give me a bag?” Bailey tried again, but Zane’s expression said no way. “Why not?!”

“I don’t want to.”

“That’s a poor excuse.”

Zane shrugged. He left Bailey, who attempted to stuff everything he could into his arms. The turkey alone was too much.

Going to the lounge was likely the best option.

He could get a bag from upstairs or something, then come back down to get them.

Bailey prepared to head towards the lounge when something soft hit the back of his head.

Pivoting on his heel, he spotted Zane opening the doorway to another part of the dorm. Then he looked at the floor, where a bag sat by his feet. It wasn’t one of the plastic ones Zane had, but a cloth bag that was likely passed around during some fundraiser.

Smiling, Bailey wished to thank Zane. However, the custodian had vanished.

As if he’d want a thank you. Bailey put the groceries in the bag and made his way upstairs with his food intact.

Though that good feeling didn’t last. He knew homesickness would settle at some point.

He attempted to watch shows, gaming videos, then even studied.

When he realized he was willingly studying during his break, he couldn’t deny how desperate he was.

The idea of sitting alone in his room for five days sent a shiver down his spine.

The world seemed so quiet. Even with all the things he had to do, tests to study for, games to play, nothing could occupy his mind enough to keep it from straying to home.

He missed his bed, the soft comfort of his own room, and hearing his parent’s voices in the mornings.

He missed the knickknacks on his shelves, friends that stormed into his room insisting on having fun.

All that was gone. Though Bailey understood that was part of growing up, it didn’t mean he couldn’t stop himself from missing home.

Bailey decided that remaining in his room moping would not help his mood.

It was best to go outside and do something, anything honestly, so that was what he did.

He left with no idea what or where he planned to go.

Consciously or not, Bailey lingered on the first floor, allowing his eyes to scan the hall for a familiar head of silver that never showed.

After exiting the building, Bailey went for a stroll, hoping to calm his thoughts.

It didn’t work. The only thing Bailey could think of doing was calling his parents.

“Hey sweetie,” his mother, Emilia, said over the phone. “What are you up to?”

Bailey’s throat tightened. He had talked to her over the phone a few days ago, but being home sick amplified his feelings by a thousand. “Nothing, walking around. What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for a massive meal. You know everyone was so sad to hear you weren’t coming home. Oh, and it’s such a pain getting this all done by myself!”

“Dad’s with you, though?”

Emilia laughed, straight up howled, and Bailey couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“You’re funny, sweetie. You know your dad isn’t allowed in the kitchen, for obvious reasons. He could burn ice cream.”

Bailey snorted. “True, but he can at least help chop vegetables or pick up anything you forgot.”

“I suppose he has some usefulness,” Emilia said reluctantly.

Bailey heard a loud hey from the background, which was likely his father.

It caused him to snicker again, and he remained on the phone with his mom for a good half hour.

It was after Bailey hung up and was about to return to the dorms when he spotted that familiar head of silver.

Zane was no longer in his uniform. He hadn’t seen Bailey since he had his nose buried in his phone. Bailey approached him. Bailey’s mouth moved on its own and asked without his permission, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

His cheeks flushed when Zane offered a peculiar expression. It wasn’t like he meant to ask anything. Bailey’s body kind of moved on its own, as did his mouth. It did that a lot. He was wondering if that was healthy.

“Depends on why you’re asking,” Zane responded hesitantly, as if he knew that Bailey was about to ask him to spend time together. Did he have to look repulsed by the idea? Bailey wasn’t that bad to be around, right?

“I’m just curious if you have plans tomorrow…being so antisocial, I figured you wouldn’t. I’m going to make turkey—”

“You mean try to?” Zane interrupted. “With your luck, you’ll burn down the dorm.”

That was definitely a possibility, and it pissed Bailey off that Zane brought it up. Grumbling, Bailey pursed his lips. Why couldn’t someone have stayed behind to spend the weekend with him? Now he was stuck asking the rudest man on earth to hang out.

“Whatever, I just thought I’d ask,” he mumbled. Bailey spun on his heel and went inside, feeling more homesick than ever. By the time he reached his room, he felt physically sick. He spent the rest of the day in bed, curled up beneath the covers with the TV on.

Thanksgiving arrived. Bailey attempted his turkey dinner in the lounge.

He called it an attempt because things weren’t going so well.

His mood likely wasn’t helping either, since he felt as miserable today as he did yesterday.

Cooking was meant to make him feel better, at least he had hoped it would, but it wasn’t working. Bailey blamed his luck for that.

Bailey had no idea how to keep the turkey from ending up dry.

Did it have to do with putting juice on it or something?

He called to ask his mom, but she only stayed on the line a short while since she was preoccupied.

Bailey was really regretting not going home, but he didn’t want to spend the money or ask his parents for it.

He was going to have to get used to it. He was an adult!

An adult who couldn’t cook or keep himself from sniffling like a toddler while cooking, but an adult none-the-less.

Bailey wanted to make stuffing, but every time he looked at his creation, it just looked like mush.

Well, at least he had his macaroni salad, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans.

He knew he wouldn’t mess up any of that.

He patted himself on the back for his end product, even if the turkey was dry and the stuffing looked more like liquid.

As long as it was a decent tasting liquid, right?