Erik was sitting on an old, small wood bench directionally looking at the fenced in basketball court where two groups of guys were shooting hoops opposite each net. This was the number three court, marked because there were five courts in the neighborhood. The ballers were going hard, but everybody knew everybody and the mischief was minimal... just some swearing. They all were wearing shorts. Some of them were wearing white tee shirts, and all of the other ones had on tank tops. This was code. It was their culture. Most of them did this everyday, albeit everybody missed a day or two. Erik wanted to play, but there was the thing. He was "different." Erik tried to be extremely calm, extremely cool. If he got too angry, he could catch a pass to him and it could possibly light up like a star shaped like a basketball in his hands. And, it didn't matter if it was day or night. This would be the result of Erik's difference. He could control kinetic energy. That included microwave energy. But, he doesn't like to talk about it. Like, ever. After he watched the game, he walked down the block and turned up an old apartment complex's stairway and went into his home. It was a one bedroom, one bath studio pad. It was neat. The blue couch had a white quilt run over it so he didn't spill anything on the couch, or if he wanted to take a nap. He had a little table with an empty beer bottle sitting on it. The medium sized refrigerator had some beer in it, and also some cheese and meat and milk, and bread. He shut it Next, he went into his bedroom. He checked his college e-mail, answered a couple of them, then looked in his tiny closet and admired his Jumpman 23 low cut sneakers. Next, he went to his bathroom and scrubbed his teeth and broke off an oxycodone and took it orally. Then, he called up a girlfriend and requested her to be his date to the movies. They were familiar with each other, so the conversation was almost light, being that Erik got off on being teased a little bit. So, it was a win. He jumped in the shower, sprayed on cologne, dressed, and waited for her. He didn't have a car. [i][b] 90 Minutes Later, Regional Cinema Theatre[/b][/i] "How's your mom doing?" "She's fine. She's got shingles from screwing around," said Sierra. They were arriving at the movies place in a '13 Ford Mustang. It was a nice car. Red, with updated tires and rims. The only thing that could be better was if it was a convertible. "So, you like the Avengers?" "They're OK. I wanted to see the new Leonardo DiCaprio, but maybe next time." They rode past the warehouse where some thing had happened. They both commented on it. The police were everywhere, and a little smoke was rolling out of the warehouse somewhere. It didn't look good. Given all of that police presence, you would think they would organize a roadside check, or something, but it was nothing. Sierra made a comment after Erik noticed it. Then, they found a parking slot and walked up to buy their tickets. They entered the movie and bought popcorn with condiments and they both had a large Sprite to drink.