[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/315998304305545227/315998637735936004/coollogo_com-39941120.png[/img][/center]
[center][sub][b]The Tempest of the Normal[/b][/sub][/center]
Amim House
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[color=yellow]”I believe it is time…”[/color]
“Time for what?” Pantheon laid atop the all-too-small Queen size bed which prevailed as the only clean item amid a sea of clothes: dirty, ripped, or more pertinent, ones which no longer fit.
[color=yellow]”Time to get a job. I cannot stand to hear your. . . [i]our[/i] mother’s daily reminders further.”[/color]

Hassan gave himself a good whollop. Regret was immediate.

“Don’t talk about her, shithead.”
[color=yellow]”You persist physical violence knowing it hurts us both? We have been together how long?”[/color]
“Few months.”
[color=yellow]”Are you sure I am the one who is, as you put it, ‘a shithead’?”[/color]
“Well… you can shut up, how about that?”

And Pantheon did. Hassan returned to his drawing: a poor rendition of certain people from the invasion of Sherman Square: Hex, Alchemyst, Icon, and a few others, all grouped together and waving, their four-fingered hands waving and each smiling at one another. He heard a door open, had to be Shati. A sly grin grew on Hassan face,

Presently in a teal hoodie which Rahna bought him, some black jeans (Rahna again), and some special ordered black Converse (hey, Rahna, thanks!) Hassan jumped up and scurried out his door to meet Shati at the top of the stairs. He leaned on the railing beside him and wiggled his eyebrows,

“Sooooooo?”

Shati, now a bit taller and mere days before her 16th birthday, stonewalled her elder cousin’s plea. She gave a glance to him from her phone, AirPods still sunk into her ears. A sigh, and then she shouted for Bibi, but Bibi had already left. Hassan did a jig.

“Fine. Fine, fine. FINE! But I swear if I die I’m coming back to haunt you [i]and[/i] him. Also, could you [i]not[/i] tell Michael you’re going to beat his ass if he doesn’t take me to prom?”

“Wasn’t me, it was--”

“Pantheon, yeah, whatever dude. Just cut it out, yeah?” Shati pattered her feet down the stairs, knee high socks and red and white Jordan Air Max rounding out her outfit of choice. Hassan towed behind and snatched the car keys from their hook next to the kitchen and the two hustled outside. 7:30? School at 8:15? Can do. Hassan hopped in the driver’s seat, Shati in the passenger’s.

“And this time make sure you use the blinkers, thanks.”

“Titi, who’s the one driving?”

Silence.

“Exxxaacctlyyyy.” Hassan mocked,

“You just started driving last week, dummy! Who was the one who [i]taught[/i] you how to drive, huh?” she pulled back ebon silky hair and leaned an ear close to Hassan,

Silence.

“Exaaaaaaccctlyyyy.” Shati returned,

“Well, being a superhero is tough business, alright? Taking down a terrorist organization is a pretty big deal, you know.”

“Last I checked those guys are still around. Big bad superhero can’t do his job right, [i]and[/i] he can’t drive. Maybe I shouldn’t have been jealous of you after all.”

“...Just.. put your seatbelt on.” Shati gave a smile as she clicked herself in. Hassan started the vehicle and the two were off.

Hassan drummed his fingers along the steering wheel while they rolled along in silence for the first few minutes of the ride. Silence wasn’t his favorite, and so he moved to break it first,

“Speaking of prom, any ideas? Need a good color scheme. Yellow and green?”

“You know I don’t like yellow,”

“That kind of hurts, you know.”

“No, blue and… something else.”

“Ohhh,” Hassan nudged her as she scrolled through her phone, “you and Michael gonna match? Huh? Huh?!”

Shati huffed and pushed his arm away best she could.

“No. Everyone does that.” a stop sign, Shati’s phone rang,

“Hello? Hey, Rahna! Yeah, yeah, okay. Alright, I’ll tell him.” she hung up and turned to Hassan,
“Rahna said she had to speak to you after you dropped me off. Something about a uh… an interview?”

[i]Oh.[/i] Hassan felt morning’s renewal leave him; it may have been the lack of leg room in the Camry. No, it was definitely numinous.

“Did you ask her with who?”

“She didn’t say. Just said to meet her after. Oh, and this time could you [i]not[/i] forget to pick me up after soccer?”

“Sure, Titi.” Hassan had zoned out, and had nearly rear-ended a soccer mom’s van at the entrance of the high school,

“Hassan! Pay attention!” Hassan slammed the breaks and though he didn’t jerk forward too much, Shati did. One of Pantheon’s massive hands pressed against Shati’s chest, nearly pushing her [i]into[/i] the seat.

“Shit! You alright?” the hand dropped, Shati coughed violently and unbuckled herself before jolting out of the vehicle and into the school. Hassan was left sitting there, alone.


[color=yellow]”It doesn’t matter how hard you try, she will always hate you. They all do.”[/color]

“We’re not doing this right now.”

A cold climbed Hassan’s spine; he could envision Pantheon’s smug grin crawling around his mind. There was no time to waste, he had to go see Rahna about this ‘interview.’