Page 2 of The Not So Super Hero

B ailey never liked his nickname; Bad Luck Bailey. Yep, that was him in a nutshell, the simplest explanation ever to sum up him and his life. He was a walking catastrophe. He was an accident waiting to happen. People learned to expect the unexpected when in his vicinity.

After Bailey had the encounter with that custodian, Zane Levitt—whose name he only knew by seeing his nametag—he thought he was safe. That had to be the worst thing that would happen on his first few days of school, right? What could possibly go wrong!?

Simple answer, everything. What made the poor boy think he could go a day without trouble was unknown, because Bailey never went a day without catastrophe. However, after a long life of misfortune, he learned to be optimistic regardless of the circumstances.

As per his usual shit luck, Bailey’s phone died.

Somehow, the charger fell out of the wall.

Because of his dead battery, his alarm didn’t go off Monday morning.

Bailey awoke five minutes before his first class started.

He hadn’t the time to do much of anything other than throw on some jeans and a t-shirt.

Bolting out the door, he forgot everything except himself and a notebook.

He had forgotten his schedule, which had the classroom number he couldn’t remember, yet he remembered the building and professor’s name.

And where the hell was his wallet? His phone? His dorm keys!?

Bailey patted himself down, finding that his wallet was missing, or rather left forgotten in his dorm, which meant his campus I.D.

that he finally found yesterday after cleaning out his car was gone as well.

Not that it mattered, since he didn’t have his keys to get back into his dorm anyway, so hopefully his roommate, Ryan, was there.

He didn’t even have his phone to call him!

Bailey took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks with the urge to yell. Then sighed. He would not be that late, so it was better than not showing up at all!

Sometimes Bailey hated himself, or his luck really.

Even when he desperately tried to make everything right, it never worked.

He once had two umbrellas in his car, three jackets, two scarves, a laundry basket of extra clothes, and even food.

A week later, someone broke into his car to steal everything on—because it wasn’t bad enough—cold rainy day in the middle of August, which meant he was in shorts and a short-sleeved top.

Yeah, the universe hated him. A lot.

Bailey ended up having to ask a stranger where his class was.

Upon entering, the professor gave him a warning glare.

Then, after taking a seat, the girls behind Bailey grimaced and mentioned an awful smell.

He sniffed only to discover it wasn’t his armpits the smell was coming from.

Frowning, Bailey picked up his foot. He had stepped in dog shit on the way to class.

Well, at least it was one shoe and not both. His first day was off to a great start.

While Bailey’s professor lectured, he spoke of his plans for the class, what he expected, assignments to come and tardiness.

He glanced towards Bailey during the entire talk about tardiness and attendance.

Such attention caused him to sink low in his seat.

He desperately wished the class to be over so he could run back to his dorm and at least brush his teeth.

Until he remembered he didn’t have his keys, so if Ryan wasn’t there, he would be fucked.

No use crying over spilt milk. He would find some way to fix things he always did.

Class couldn’t end soon enough. When it finally did, Bailey left as quickly as he ran to it. Unlike the day he arrived, Bailey got into the dorms with ease without his campus I.D. He made it back to his dorm to find Ryan walking out the door.

“Wait!” Bailey called, running full speed down the hall.

“Hey man,” Ryan greeted Bailey, who was gasping for breath. “You make it to class ok?”

“I was late, but at least I made it,” Bailey sighed, kicking open the door. Ryan announced he would be back later and wished Bailey luck throughout the rest of his day.

Was it sad that they only knew each other for a little over a day and Ryan was already well aware of Bailey’s bad luck? That was sad, wasn’t it?

Bailey finally got to do his bathroom routine.

He had time to fix his unruly dirty blonde hair, successfully putting it into the proper comb over he preferred.

He fixed his glasses, put on deodorant, brushed his teeth, and cleaned off his shoes.

After checking his backpack for his belongings, multiple times to be safe, Bailey deemed himself ready for his next class.

Though deep down, he knew something would go wrong.

It always did because that was his luck, or lack of luck, more like it.

It wasn’t all-bad though! Even with the shit going on, Bailey was pretty upbeat.

It was his first day of college at Ringgold University; one of the best Mutant Studies schools in the world.

Bailey was thrilled about getting his acceptance letter.

He thought he wouldn’t make it. For once, the world cut him some slack and allowed him to go to his dream school.

He was having the first of his major classes in a few minutes. Unlike this morning, Bailey made it on time and found a seat in the middle.

“Hey, I know you!” a familiar voice shouted from the left of Bailey.

The student worker who had let Bailey in the day that he met the evil custodian smiled at him. She was a lovely young girl with fiery red hair, cute freckles against her pale white skin, and bright green eyes. “You’re Bailey, right? I let you in on Saturday.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” He chuckled, then patted the seat next to him as an invitation.

The girl happily took it, retrieving her books for the class. “The name’s Amery Lloyd.”

“Bailey Schaefer.” Bailey took the hand Amery offered for a quick shake.

“I’m assuming you are a Mutant Studies major. You planning on going the political or medical route?” Amery questioned, seeing as the class was literally called Mutant Studies 101.

“Medical,” he replied. “You?”

“Same thing,” she announced, sounding very proud, which she should be.

Mutant Studies was a very fresh major, even more so the medical aspect of it.

After all, 150 years of mutants seemed like a lot, but it certainly wasn’t politically or medically.

Most of the research only hit the ground about 30 years ago.

There were many trying to get into mutant studies now that it was so acceptable and growing dramatically, so it was definitely a triumph if you got in.

“Do you have one?” Amery suddenly asked, twirling her pen in her hand. “A mutation, that is.”

“No, you?”

“Nope.” Amery made a cute pout. “A fourth of the population has already evolved, but we’re left in the dust. Boo!”

Bailey nodded, thinking over the percentage Amery mentioned that grew each year. Studies estimated that perhaps in another 100 years half the population could be mutants. Mutant was the term given to those humans that fell into the 25% that possessed supernatural abilities.

During a time, for about the first 60 years, mutants were feared, shut out from the rest of the world until people quickly realized that a political side had to be formed for mutants or it was going to be disastrous.

Well, worse than it already was. It took some time.

It was still in effect really, but most rights were given back to mutants that were once taken away.

Most mutants appeared normal. Some had side effects of their own abilities, but most could pass off as everyone else, which was a cause for uproar.

People wanted them marked or in uniforms to tell them apart.

Though that quickly fell through, since it easily put a target on their back for hate crimes.

The sudden appearance of mutants was difficult, still was, however, the world slowly getting by.

Each year, they were treated more and more like everyone else.

For a while, it felt as if the entire world was on hold. Technology took a drastic downfall when mutants first arrived. Some were used for their own abilities. It put a sort of “halt” on the evolution of everything. It was tough times, or so Bailey read.

“I knew a Level 1 with enhanced smell. Imagine what it was like taking a shit,” he commented. Amery gagged.

“That would be awful!” She cried, throwing her hands over her nose. “No way, I’m good. Enhanced smell is not worth it.”

Moments later, their professor walked in, successfully cutting off their conversation.

Both Amery and Bailey watched in slight awe when the woman got to her desk, waving her hand across the slightly drooping plants she had rested there.

In a second, the plants stood upright, their color returned and in full health.

“Welcome to Mutant Studies 101. I am your instructor, Professor Lou. I hope we get along during this semester. Sorry to announce that I am only a Level 2 mutant.” Professor Lou slogged her way around her desk.

She leaned back, pressing her weight against the desk while she twirled her finger around one of her plants.

The attention caused a couple of flowers to bloom.

“The most I can do is grow flowers and heal some minor injuries,” Professor Lou explained, her dark brown eyes observing the class.

“In this class, we will learn more about that, about Levels, about mutants, the people who possess mutations, and the basics of it all, honestly. Feel free not to answer, but how many mutants are here?”

Bailey and Amery turned their heads to watch 21 out of the 50 students raise their hands.