Nothing much happened the next morning. I got up with little time to get to my morning shift at Sal’s Cafe, which was pretty uneventful considering there weren’t very many customers, as usual.
I left the café almost as quickly as I had come after my shift was over, knowing I had to hustle to Current Events if I was to arrive on time. When I got back to my dorm, I ran into the bathroom to change.
“Headed to Current Events?” Taylor asked as I sped by her, straightening her Carl's, Jr. Hat.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “See you, Taylor!”
“See you, Sarah.”
After she left, and after I was changed, I walked the one-quarter mile to the Government building. When I entered, I took the seat nearest to the door and waited for the professor. Over some time I got bored of staring at the large empty chalkboard and instead looked around the room and at the other students. Behind me was an older student with curly black hair, Canada Whiteman, whom I knew as the one that asked a lot of questions. There was another guy, Brady Johnson, that was fairly tall and sound asleep, his pencil half-hanging off the desk. The only other people in the room were a couple people that sat in the back corner of the room, whispering to each other. A few minutes later, the rest of the students piled in, along with the teacher, Mr. Yin.
“Alright, class,” he said upon entering the room. “Today we will be watching a video recording of an event that happened recently: a fight between a supervillain and Time Turner.”
I resisted the urge to bang my head on my desk. Everyone was going to judge me, again!
He pulled up CHCNews.com and clicked the link to the video. I immediately recognized it as my encounter with Hung Zhu.
“Be sure to take notes on the peoples’ opinions of Time Turner and why you think they feel this way.”
He started the video and backed away from the projector.
“Good morning, Captain Hope City!” a bubbly female reporter said, brushing her golden hair out of her face. “Today we are experiencing a conflict between Time Turner and a new villain. How will she handle this encounter?”
The camera moved and zoomed in on me. I was pacing the parking lot of the fire station, keeping a watchful eye for Hung Zhu. I remember I was nervous, but I was trying to look strong for the crowd of people that had seemed to form instantly. After a little while, Hung Zhu showed up. He was an Asian man who looked about forty-five years old; he was tall and well-built, just like most other male Superhumans. I remember immediately feeling intimidated by his black leather suit, complete with a gold-trimmed mask and boots, and red war paint on his face.
“I hear you’re this city’s Hero,” he sneered. “Let’s see if you’re a worthy opponent.”
He lunged towards me, his hands engulfed in flames. I dived out of the way and stood up quickly so I could have time to react to his next move. He came up to me and swiped his hand across my stomach. I tried to dodge it, but I cried out in pain as the fire in his hand singed my abdomen, leaving a scorch mark on my suit.
“Can’t we just...talk about it?” I managed to say, bending over in pain.
Hung Zhu stopped, utterly surprised by what I proposed. He then started laughing.
“Talk? That’s hilarious!” Hung Zhu said. “You’re a superhero, and you want to...talk? My, what an amazing impression you’ve been making on these people!”
I looked around.
“Fight, Time Turner!” I heard someone--a female--say from among the crowd.
“It seems as if Time Turner is once again incapable of attacking her opposer!” the reporter said with a concerned expression. “What will she do next?”
People were getting less confused and more furious as I stood, dumbfounded. I looked back at Hung Zhu, who smiled wickedly.
“Not so much of a promising hero, are you?”
He punched my gut, and I doubled over in pain. He then put a foot on my arm. “Your Hero clearly can’t defeat me, or anyone for that matter! I can do whatever I want to her, and she won’t defend herself! What good is she then if I threaten you?”
I looked away, not wanting to relive that humiliating experience. I stared at the blank paper in front of me, then back to the screen.
I tried to bring my arms together to undo this encounter when Hung Zhu--his hands ignited--brushed against my arm. I yelled out in pain and yanked my hands back.
“Behold, your Hero!”
The crowd looked at me, bewildered and hurt by my actions. The reporter turned to the camera.
“What will happen next?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Will Time Turner shape up? Will she be defeated by this new Villain? Stay tuned for the next section of CHC News!”
Mr. Yin closed down the browser.
“Alright, now to discuss what you wrote down. Who would like to start?”
Canada raised her hand.
“I actually have a question,” she started. “How is she a superhero, but she can’t fight?”
“No one knows, Canada,” Mr. Yin stated. “She may just be...insecure, perhaps.”
I wanted to tell him otherwise, but I knew I couldn’t. They would find out I was Time Turner for sure.
“Interesting…” Canada said, scribbling something down on her paper.
“Does anyone have something to add?” Mr. Yin asked again, pacing the room in front of us.
“I will,” Brady Johnson, a student from my high school, said. “I believe Time Turner sucks as a hero.”
No one said anything clearly, but there were murmurs of agreement. I stayed miserably silent.
“And what is your evidence to support that statement, Brady?” Mr. Yin asked him.
“Well, she very clearly doesn’t know how to fight,” Brady said, playing with his pencil.
Maybe I’ll show you...if I hadn’t sworn not to on my life.
There were more murmurs of agreement, more audible this time.
“Alright, fair enough. Any other comments, inferences, assertions?”
“I personally disagree with Brady,” someone said. I looked frantically around the classroom to see who that someone was, the person who actually thought I was a good Hero. Turns out it was a blonde-haired guy with a button-up shirt and khaki shorts. “Not with the whole ‘Time Turner is a bad hero’ thing, though.”
I huffed. Of course he didn’t.
“I think she’s a bad hero because she doesn’t want to fight. I think it’s clear that she can fight, by the way she maneuvered and dodged Hung Zhu’s attacks.”
“And do you have an idea as to why?” Professor Yin asked him curiously.
“Well, no,” the guy said, as if it was obvious. Professor Yin nodded.
It went on like that: Mr. Yin would ask somebody to contribute, and they would answer. Sometimes somebody else would add to the answer. Sometimes there was an awkward silence.
After a while, Mr. Yin checked his watch. “Good job, class. You can leave now. Turn in your papers to me at the door.”
The class packed their bags, and that was when I realized my paper was still blank. In a panic, I scribbled down something as quickly as I could and handed it to Professor Yin on my way out of the classroom. When I handed it to him, I got shocked by static electricity from his hand. Thinking no more of it, I left the classroom.
What I did think about was what I wrote on my paper as I walked down the halls of the campus to my next class:
Time Turner is an unworthy hero for Captain Hope City