Much to Carmen’s relief, the chatter continued on without interruption upon her entrance. Only a few waves, some surprised looks, and a singular “hello” were thrown her way. The director didn’t even seem to notice her. … Or maybe he did, since he threw her a pair of earbuds. Carmen fumbled with them for a moment, glancing around as she sat on the couch. What were [i]these[/i] for? Everyone else seemed to be already wearing them, so she put them in her ears. Were they a headset? Like in spy movies? They didn’t seem to block any sound, so she decided that was it. Headset. Right. 

Carmen waved back to Andy, not quite wanting to interrupt the very animated conversation going on. They seemed to be talking about… who they were? How they got here? There was a slew of introductions and one [i]very[/i] cringy thing said by Andy (Carmen could barely keep from rolling her eyes). But she elected not to respond, instead sitting on her couch. She had expected the Director to be angry with her for being late, but he seemed to be nonchalant, which was good. There was confetti [i]everywhere[/i], which was strange. It didn’t look like they had thrown a welcome party. 

An older girl sat next to Carmen, followed by her… friend, maybe? Bev and Morie. [color=a51d45] “Mine’s Carmen. It’s… nice to meet you!”[/color] She held out a hand for a polite handshake. One seemed enthusiastic and bubbly, and the other seemed quiet. A strange mix, but they seemed to be nice. They had an interesting look in their eyes. Was that… no, it was [i]pity[/i]. An ugly feeling settled in Carmen’s stomach, twisting. Out of the corner of her eye, a boy gave a wide smile to her- in direct contrast to how cold he’d been acting to everybody else. In the Director-imposed silence, she contemplated her position in this room of wannabe heroes.

God, she might as well have been wearing pigtails and holding a teddy bear for the way they all looked at her. They were being so nice, but it wasn’t comforting. It was mocking. They didn’t intend it that way, but she felt it like nails on a chalkboard. It didn’t show much on her face, but she still felt that twisting. She was familiar with that feeling. [i]She’s so young to be going through this. Oh, and she’s so young…[/i] What did they think she had done to get here? [i]Why[/i] did they think she was here? She wasn’t like them. She wasn’t a criminal. She hadn’t been forced to do anything by anyone.

Well, maybe she had. It hadn’t been that much of a choice. Her mom had called the PRT, arranged a meeting, and signed the papers, all without Carmen’s input. She had known but didn’t argue, wasn’t asked for her opinion. Maybe she was less like them than she had thought. These kids were heroes, people with hero names and powers they understood. And she was a thirteen-year-old girl who had been signed up and thrown into a world she didn’t understand. While she was having her small crisis, Carmen listened to Director Fukuda’s phone conversation with an open ear. She intuitively knew to shut up whenever adults spoke, so she did, keeping her lips zipped and ears peeled. What he said was… concerning. Her anxiety spiked. What on Earth was going on? 

[color=a51d45] “... Things are getting interesting? Mr. Fukuda, is something wrong? Are- are we getting attacked? By villains?”[/color] If Carmen had further dissected his conversation she would have understood that it likely wasn’t that, but the idea concerned her. God, fighting? This soon? She didn’t even know how to fight with her power yet. 

[color=a51d45] “Um, but, since I think I didn’t get to it… I’m Carmen Foster, but I guess I’ll be V to everybody else. I’m 13, I go to Redline Middle, my mom signed me up for this, and my power lets me make stuff. Objects. I'll show you.”[/color] Carmen stood as she said it. With an almost unnoticeable flash of light and smoke, a basketball appeared in Carmen’s hands. She chucked it at the opposite wall, letting it bounce around the room, but then curled her fingers and watched it vanish into that same fog. She sat down on the couch again, watching the room warily for reactions. People had been impressed with her power. Would they be?