"You're graduating," Dad says. I'm standing in front of his desk, trying to look as righteously indignant as possible, but he hasn't even looked up from his computer. In fact, I haven't even said anything yet--I just stormed in.
"I don't want to graduate!" I say.
"Max, we don't have time for you to keep playing at school like you are," Dad says. "You've gotten past the telepathic wall problem you had, you're a full-fledged, fully realized super, now. Yes, you need a bit more practice with your telepathy, but that's something that I can help you with, if you would give me about an hour. You need to be--"
"I need to be in the school!" I burst out, knowing I'm being childish and not caring. "I need to be with my friends--with my girlfriend! I can't just--"
"I need you to focus, Max," Dad says, his voice far too calm for my comfort. This is supposed to be an argument, right? So why does it feel so one-sided? "Once you graduate from Cape High, I will be turning over several aspects of the Hall to you. I cannot rightfully do that to a person who has so much homework to do."
"What?"
"I'm going to make you my second-in-command."
"You're graduating," Dad says. I'm standing in front of his desk, trying to look as righteously indignant as possible, but he hasn't even looked up from his computer. In fact, I haven't even said anything yet--I just stormed...
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