1 Chapter One

"That's gross!"

"Get away from me!"

"No! Don't even think about touching my pen! Get your own!"

"What is on your hands?!"

More words flooded my mind. I looked down at my hands. Stupid sweaty hands...

Hyperhidrosis: my worst enemy. Unfortunately, I was stuck with that enemy for the rest of my life. It's a disorder. I don't say that word very often, though. Usually, when people hear the word disorder, they steer clear of me. They think since I have a disorder it has to be mental. I'm not insane. I'm not autistic. My mind is perfectly fine. I just get extra sweaty sometimes, that's all. My hands, my feet, my underarms. I have to be thankful it's not on my face.

I can cover up my feet. A pair of thick socks and sneakers do the trick just fine. My underarms, I wear black. If I'm not wearing black, I'm in a sweatshirt. My hands...that's where it gets difficult. I can't wear gloves in school. I can't do anything about it. I just have to wait it out.

I've gotten better at controlling it. My big brother tells me it's my superpower. He says, "once you learn to control it, everything will get better." I haven't really learned how to control it. When my hands are dry, I can make them start sweating. However, unfortunately, once they've started, there's no turning back. They'll be sweating for an hour, at least. But most of the time they keep sweating for the rest of the day. Before they start, I get a tingling feeling. It's kind of like a warning. The only way to stop it once I feel the tingling is by either running them under cold water or blowing cool air on them. The former works much better.

"Andrew." My pre-calculus teacher, an old hag of a lady named Mrs. Cauch, was staring at me. I glanced up at her. "Is it raining in here?"

I blinked. "Um, excuse me?"

"Your hood, Mr. Harley," she motioned to my sweatshirt.

"Oh." I put my hood down quickly, feeling my cheeks getting red and my hands tingling even more.

She turned to the board. "Can you explain to me how to do this problem?"

I stared at it. "Um, well, first, you would…" I looked down at my notes. I'd forgotten they were nonexistent. I wasn't the best student. I glanced to the right at my best friend—more like my only friend—Olivia. She shrugged. I sighed and turned back to Mrs. Cauch. "I'm not sure." I was so ready to get out of her class. There were only a few weeks of school left, and I just wanted to be done so I could call myself a senior in high school.

She chuckled. "Right. So stop daydreaming and start paying attention, please. Olivia, would you like to explain it?"

Olivia threw her hands up. "Seriously? You just saw him look at me. I told him I don't know. I don't know."

"Maybe you should start paying attention better, too, then." Mrs. Cauch turned back to the board and started to write.

"Maybe you should start teaching better," Olivia muttered under her breath.

For an old lady, Mrs. Cauch sure had good hearing. "Detention on Thursday, Ms. Langman. I'll see you there."

I furrowed my brow. "Wait, Olivia didn't-"

"You too, Andrew." The hag turned around. "Would anyone else like to join them?" Everyone stared at her. "Alright then. Moving on."

After class, Olivia walked to the cafeteria with me. "She makes me so mad. It's not my fault she should've retired twenty years ago!" She pushed a strand of her short black hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble too."

"You didn't. I knew what I was doing. Now you won't be bored in detention."

She chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks."

Soon enough, Thursday came. There were only four people in detention, and all of us were juniors: me, Olivia, a kid named Carter who bullied me in middle school for my condition, and another boy named Rocco. I had my gym class with Rocco, and he didn't have many friends. I wondered what he did to get into detention.

It was extremely boring. Mrs. Cauch made everything worse by shushing us even if someone just dropped a pencil. When it finally ended, it was dark out. The four of us plus Mrs. Cauch walked out of the school. It was chilly outside for late May. A man wearing sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt was at the bottom of the stairs at the entrance. He was smoking. Rocco walked down the stairs quickly. He took a dark green baseball cap out of the back pocket of his jeans and put it on. As he passed the man, the man grabbed him, put his hand over his mouth, and dragged him down the sidewalk. Olivia and I looked at each other. "Woah, Rocco!" I started to walk faster. I glanced back at Mrs. Cauch. "Aren't you going to do something? Did you just see that?!"

Mrs. Cauch sighed. "I'm too old for this." She turned down the sidewalk and started walking the opposite way from Rocco and the man.

I blinked. "I wouldn't want to be in her classroom if there was a fire."

"Drew, where did they go?" Olivia started down the sidewalk. "They're gone." She peered into the stores as she passed them. Cars flew by us, and I watched them nervously. I never liked cars much. My father was killed while driving one when I was nine years old.

"I saw them go in here," Carter said, motioning to an old hardware store that hasn't been open for years. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, we're not just going to do nothing!"

"We're not going to do nothing. Let's call the police," I said, pulling out my phone.

Carter shook his head. "No way. That kid could be dead by the time they get here. I'm going in." He opened the door. Olivia glanced at me before following him.

I looked at my phone once more before sighing and pushing the door open. There was nothing in the main lobby. I heard a grunt coming from the back room and started towards it. Carter found a crowbar and held it like a baseball bat. Olivia took a hammer off a mostly empty display shelf. For some reason, I didn't feel any fear. I felt like I could take care of myself if need be. My old bully and best friend got behind me. I pushed the door open, and we rushed in.

I stumbled when I saw the scene before me. The man was on the floor. Rocco held a glowing green spear in his hand. He was holding the tip of it to the man's neck.

"I-I don't know!" The man cried. "I was just doing it for the money, I swear-" he was cut off when Rocco lifted the spear and plunged it through his eye. I winced as Carter stared with wide eyes. Olivia gasped, then covered her mouth.

Rocco turned, startled. His lips parted. "Oh, God." He laughed. "You guys saw all of that, didn't you?" The glowing spear was still in his hand, and he twirled it through his fingers. It vanished.

Olivia started to back out of the room slowly. "We won't tell. We swear. Right, guys?"

"No, no, that's not good enough." Rocco rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. He snapped his fingers. "I've got it." He made a twirling motion with his hands, and his spear reappeared. "Don't be scared. This will hardly hurt."

"Wait!" Carter said as Olivia ran out of the room. In one quick swipe, Carter and Olivia were on the ground. They didn't look harmed, just unconscious. I looked at Rocco. Why didn't he knock me out, too? He looked like he was asking himself the same question.

If it concerned him, he shrugged it off. "Must be tired." He used the butt of the spear to hit me in the back of the head. I held it, staring at Rocco as my vision blurred. I tried to take deep breaths before letting myself fall into the darkness.