Description: Chapter One Summer School "Hey, kid! What can you do?" Daniel took his time chaining up his bike before glancing over his shoulder. He''d been hoping that if he pretended not to hear them, they''d go away, but no such luck. A tour group headed by a man in a cheap plastic cape had crossed the street and were now standing in a semicircle around him. Their camera phones were already clicking as they snapped pictures. They didn''t even ask if it was okay. "What do you mean, What can you do? " said Daniel, although he knew full well what they meant. "Do you do anything?" said a round woman who elbowed her way to the front of the group. Her arms wiggled as she moved. "Anything special?" Daniel considered what to say next. The morning was muggy already, and the sun burned hot and white in a pale sky. The heat and these tourists only worsened his mood, which was crappy to begin with. Even now, the fat woman looked flushed and sweaty from the heat, or maybe she was about to pass out from the possibility that he could be one of them. This was, after all, the town now famous for being home to super-kids. He could play with these tourists. He could say he had the power to erase the memory cards on their phones with a wave of his hand, or that he could read minds, and did they know that one of them was secretly in love with another member of their group? Those had worked in the past. But the best was always when he told them his power was a radioactive field that he called his death zone. It wasn''t dangerous as long as you didn''t look directly at him and wrapped yourself in tinfoil. But it was too hot to mess with tourists today. "I don''t do anything special," he said. "I''m just a kid." He could feel their disappointment as, one by one, they turned their backs on him. Then they continued walking down the street, busily deleting the pictures they''d snapped of Daniel before they''d learned that he was nobody important. Maybe they''d wander into Arnold Lebowski on his paper route, the boy who could turn himself into a human-shaped cloud. If he tried really hard, he could squeeze out a few raindrops for onlookers. Daniel finished chaining up his bike and made for the opposite side of the street. He was a few minutes early today and decided to treat himself to something special. Lemon''s Ice Cream Parlor and Doughnut Shop had been a fixture of downtown Noble''s Green for nearly sixty years. It was a true family business that had weathered economic depressions, recent recessions, and globalization unchanged. But it had not weathered superhero mania. As Daniel opened the door of the re-christened Happy Hero''s Ice Cream Parlor--Home to the Superpowered Root Beer Float--he was glad to hear the familiar chime of the old doorbell. At least that hadn''t gone away. And the inside of the shop still smelled a little bit like what Daniel imagined heaven must smell like: powdered sugar and cinnamon. Standing behind the counter, wiping down the chrome tabletop with a rag, was elderly Mr. Lemon himself, dressed in a shiny silver tracksuit decorated with glued-on felt lightning bolts. Mr. Lemon had not developed any powers as far as Daniel knew, but that hadn''t stopped him from cashing in on the town''s newfound fame. "Hey there, Daniel!" said Mr. Lemon with a smile. "What are you doing up this early on a summer morning?" Ah, that was the question, wasn''t it? Daniel figured he''d better get used to it, as this was going to be his routine for the foreseeable future. "Oh, well," he said. "I''m taking a few summer classes. To get ahead, you know." From the look now on Mr. Lemon''s face, Daniel could tell he did know. He knew that middle schoolers did not take summer classes to get ahead. It was called summer school, and if Daniel didn''t pass it, he would be repeating the eighth grade. But Mr. Lemon didn''t embarrass Daniel by asking any more questions. "Well, you''ll need to get something in your stomach before you hit the books, won''t you? I''ve got breakfast sandwiches that heat up real quick. Not half bad." "Just a doughnut," said Daniel. "Jelly. And an orange juice. It''s hot out there already." "Looking for a sugar rush, eh? Well, I''ve got a fresh batch coming out of the oven right now. Be back in a second." He scurried off to the rear of his shop, the homemade antennae on his silver superhero cap wobbling as he went. Daniel plopped down on a barstool to wait, enjoying the chill of the air conditioner. He held his arms away from his body to let the cool air work its way into his shirt. Summer school. For Daniel, it had turned out that keeping up with his studies had been a lot harder than he''d thought, especially when his nights were spent battling super-villains instead of studying. In the end, he''d just managed to scrape past his eighth-grade year with a miserable D in chemistry, but he''d flunked history, which was normally his best subject. His parents had greeted his report card with shock--Daniel had been an A and B student up until then. But to try to explain why his grades had plummeted would mean he''d have to tell them a whole host of secrets--about how when they''d moved to Noble''s Green two years ago, he''d discovered a small group of super-children living in secret. About how he''d saved those children from their enemy, the power-stealing villain called the Shroud. And he''d have to tell them that he, a regular kid from Philadelphia, had caused the world-famous Blackout Event, when two hundred and three people woke up one morning and suddenly remembered that they could fly. Or breathe underwater. Or any number of wondrous and sometimes bizarre things. There were super-adults, but just as many were children and more were being discovered every day. He''d have to explain all that to his parents and hope they didn''t lock him in his room until college. It was easier just to go to summer school. He wasn''t worried. He knew that if he knuckled down and studied, he would pass with no problem. If he could finally focus on his studies instead of sneaking out every night to battle monsters, he might even earn an A. "I threw a bagel with cream cheese in there--on the house," said Mr. Lemon, reappearing with a small white lunch sack. "A jelly doughnut is no kind of breakfast for a growing young man." "Thanks, Mr. Lemon," said Daniel as he fished a couple of wadded-up dollar bills out of his shorts pocket to pay for the doughnut and juice. "And, uh, nice suit." Mr. Lemon chuckled. "Oh, this ridiculous thing. Mrs. Lemon''s idea, you know. Whole town''s got the fever. Now if we could just get a photo of the chief eating a Lemon''s doughnut! That would be the ticket!" Mr. Madison, the floating fire chief, was the town''s star resident. His smiling face graced travel brochures and billboards everywhere, and lucky tourists might catch a glimpse of his silhouette high in the sky, fireman''s helmet and rubber boots and all. "If I see him," said Daniel, his mouth full of jelly-filled pastry, "I''ll tell him to stop by!" The new school, built along the slopes of Mount Noble, was called the Noble Academy for the Gifted, but its title was a carefully crafted understatement. Its students weren''t simply gifted; they were Supers. The academy was the world''s first boarding school for superpowered children, located right here in Noble''s Green. In theory, it was a terrific idea. Staff the school with superpowered adults who could teach the kids to control their abilities, to use them to make a positive contribution to society. The advertising campaign was slick and seductive, with posters of beautiful children flying, like Icarus, toward the sun. Never mind, thought Daniel, that Icarus had flown so close that his wings had melted. That part of the story seemed lost on some people. The best thing about the academy was that classes had already begun. Parents wanted help dealing with the hormonal daughter who could break every window in the neighborhood when she screamed, or the kindergartner who could make it snow over the toilet. Parents were desperate. So, in effect, the academy was a combination of sleepaway camp and summer school for the Supers. Only their summer school was being held atop a mountain, like Olympus, while Daniel''s was in a basement. Being an ordinary fourteen-year-old, Daniel had a more traditional summer school experience. The middle school didn''t bother to open up the entire building for the summer students, so "repeat" American history was held in room 207 in the lowest level, which during the regular year was used for biology. Inside, a human skeleton hung on a stand beneath the flickering fluorescent lights, and on a shelf behind the teacher''s desk were rows of things floating in jars. All in all, the dangling skeleton and bloated, unrecognizable specimens made for a rather appropriate setting to kick off this new experience. All Daniel needed now was a black-hooded executioner to ask him for any last requests. At that moment, sitting in that dungeon classroom, just when Daniel''s heart had sunk to its lowest, he felt someone flick him on the back of the head. Hard. He turned around in his seat and found himself looking at an Asian-American girl with straight black bangs cut close to her dark, almost black eyes. She had folded her arms across her chest, partially obscuring a T-shirt that read, in faded letters, it''s not me, it''s you. "Hey," said Mollie Lee, grinning. "W-what. . . ?" stammered Daniel, rubbing the back of his head. He looked around her desk for the guilty weapon. It felt like she''d whacked him with a ruler. "What are you doing here?" he tried again. Although he was glad to see a friendly face, her unexpected appearance threw him off. She often d

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