ONE

Teagan

On second thoughts, throwing myself out the window of a skyscraper may not have been the best idea.

Not because I’m going to die or anything. I’ve totally got that under control.

It wasn’t smart because I had to bring Annie Cruz with me. And Annie, it turns out, is a screamer. Her fists hammer on my back, her voice piecing my eardrums, even over the rushing air.

I don’t know what she’s worried about. Pro tip: if you’re going to take a high dive off the 82nd floor, make sure you do it with a psychokinetic holding your hand. Being able to move objects with your mind is useful in all sorts of situations.

I’ll admit, this one is a little tricky. Plummeting at close to terminal velocity, surrounded by a hurricane of glass from the window we smashed through, the lights of Los Angeles whirling around us and Annie screaming and the rushing air blowing the stupid clip-on tie from my security guard disguise into my face: not ideal. Doesn’t matter though – I’ve got this.

I can’t actually apply any force to either Annie’s body or mine. Organic matter like human tissue doesn’t respond to me, which is something I don’t really have time to get into right now. But I can manipulate anything inorganic. Bricks, glass, metal, the fridge door, a sixpack, the TV remote, the zipper on your pants.

And belt buckles.

I’ve had some practice at this whole moving-shit-with-your-mind thing. I’ve already reached out, grabbed hold of the big metal buckles on our belts. We’re probably going to have some bruises tomorrow, but it’s a hell of a lot better than getting gunned down in a penthouse or splatting all over Figueroa Street.

I solidify my mental grip around the two buckles, then force them upwards, using my energy to counteract our downward motion. We start to slow, my belt tightening, hips starting to ache as the buckles take the weight –

– and immediately snap.

OK, yeah. Definitely not the best idea.