- AUTHOR SWITCH @Michelle_the_Yeezy

I was striding through the halls of Prescott Academy and spotted a rare finger licking good, damn fine, I would light my mother on fire to get this boi, I would let him drive my car (if you know what I mean) student. Hurry Elliot, think of the most romantic scene to sweep him off his feet and get in his metaphorical and literal pants (if you know what I mean). Oh! Hey, I should trip him over so he can fall for me (if you know what I mean). They have black hair as black as my non-existent soul and he has piercing dark, pants dropping eyes (if you know what I mean).

Wait, isn't that the rich bitch that left a massive dent in my car door with his stupidly attractive forehead? I should ram into him to get revenge for my car (if you know what I mean). When suddenly I felt a person ram into me (if you know what I mean). You know, someone bumped into me, what were all of you thinking? We both fell onto the floor with a loud thud. Who does this- oh wait isn't that the guy who was robbing banks with us?

"Sorry ma'am," He apologised.

"No problem ma'am."

"Don't you man?" He asked.

"Sure ma'am."

"..."

"I think I've seen you around somewhere. What's your name?"

"Theodore," He replied.

"Well, Ted, have you ever gone heisting?" I asked.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-surely not? I think I'd remember if I robbed a bank and besides I just moved here." He stuttered nervously.

"I never mentioned a bank."

"D-d-d-d-d-idn't you? Hahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah." He continued to laugh nervously as he backed away slowly from me, until busting out in a sprint to the door.

I shrugged and brushed off the recent encounter, things like that happened all the time in university. I think....

AUTHOR SWITCH - aliciacorreia

I squint my eyes as I watch the doors swing back and forth from Teddy's speedy escape. Damn. That boy could run faster than I run from my responsibilities. +10 respect points for hot-guy™ #2 of the day.

That'd be the second hot boy encounter I've had today, two more than on any usual day. Huh. Maybe my first day at uni has triggered a reverse harem lyfe for me. I wonder what the next hot boy I encounter will be like. I hope he's got a good ass. I respect a man with a good ass. Very callipygian.

Anywho, I shrugged off my strange love interest event with the man named Ted and continue to my first class. It was Health studies, which was a compulsory class. OldFace McGee (aka the Head of the school) had forced some general classes on me, claiming, "No, you can't just look at cars all day for a class" and that I needed some diversity from all my practical work with car engineering.

But I figure I can just send Harold memes in class all day and bullshit my way through tests like the studious young adult I am. The class is packed, (I assume I'm not OldFace McGee's only victim) aside from one lone table in the corner. The table was completely empty, varying greatly to the ones around it with dead-inside students packed around them like sardines.

It was almost eerie. I elbow a guy who passes through the door, "Yo, dude. Why isn't anyone sitting there? Is this, like, the bad table?"

When the man gives me a questioning look, I continue, pointing at the object, "Like, in Bambi. Is this like the "bad deer" equivalent of a table? Is the table, like, a delinquent?"

The man gives the table a once over as a look of horror spreads across his face. "What's wrong, man?" I ask as he takes a shaky step back. I grab on his arm before he can escape fully. "Are you a victim of this table?" I ask, pulling his closer and putting my hands on his shoulders.

"Where did the table touch you, Jeremy?" I whisper to him with a dead serious expression.

The boy moves back and quickly scrambles away from me to a seat in the back. I spin to face the table again while letting out a thoughtful and disruptively loud "hmmMMMM" noise.

I didn't see any real issue so I shrug and take a seat. The teacher walks in, introduces them self and begins the lesson. As soon as their back is turned to the board, I grab my phone in my pocket and begin looking through 9gag for some Harold-hobo-worthy memes to send.

I'm not even in my second layer of memery when I suddenly feel a chill down my spine and ghost-like touch on my legs.

"Oh yeah, these are some powerful feet. I can feel it."

A hand is suddenly gripping my leg and I jump in my seat, scream and instinctively kick the air. Except my foot doesn't meet the air. It meets the face of a screaming young boy.

"WHAT THE SHIT?!"

I fly back from my seat, it falls to the ground with me as I look in horror at a male currently cowering under the table. "What the actual shit," I breathe, incredulously. Why... Why... Why is there a strange man feeling up people's legs under the tables?!

"Oh, uh, hello there," the table man waves sheepishly while rubbing the face my foot had been aquatinted with.

The class glanced my way before getting back to their work.

"Oh, it's just that weird stalker again,"

"Why would she sit there? Doesn't she know?"

I stare into table man's green eyes for a moment. Then, finally, "Are you the bad deer?"

"W-What?"

"Oh my god, I was right. It is like Bambi."

"Bambi?" The man asks, confused.

I finally get back on my feet. I reluctantly offer table man a hand up as well. He takes it, almost too eagerly. "T-Thank you," he says as he dusts off his clothes. The class is still not batting an eye at this weird situation.

"Okay, dude, I didn't think I'd ever have to ask this to someone again but - why are you touching people under tables?" I say with a sigh.

"There's an explanation for this really, -"

I cut him off. "Do you wanna look up skirts that much? I mean, I admire a passion for panties in a man as much as the next gal but this is kinda of weird. Look, I can recommend some special sites and I have the panty addiction hotline number on sped dial. We can get you some help, man-"

"W-What?!" His face is beet red now and he's furiously waving his hands in front of his face. "No, no, no, I'm not that kind of guy!"

"That's what all of the leg grabbers say,"

"I'm really not!" He exclaims, louder than necessary but no one bothers to turn our way anyway. "I was looking for ability holders." he says with a deep breath, probably to calm himself.

"What? Abilities? What abilities? The ability to look up someone skirt-"

"No!" He yells again. I close my mouth and decide to let him explain before he explodes into a ball of perverted embarrassment. "Abilities, like..." He seems to be hesitating. "Super powers" he whispers the last words, as if it's a secret.

"Oh, okay," I say with a nod. "I get it now," I cross my arms over my chest.

"Y-You do?" He asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"This is your thing isn't it? Like your trait or quirk that defines your character. You're the crazy, conspiracist pervert, right?"

"No, no," he begins again. "I'm not any of those. It's just... Ever since the recent bank heists, I've had a feeling we're walking amongst talented people. People who can do things that aren't normal. People with abilities."

I blink as I process the pervert's words. "Okay," I say slowly. "Let's say, hypothetically, that these amazingly well planned out bank heists were related to people with "abilities" what does all this have to do with groping legs?"

"Well," he begins, looking to the side as if unsure of himself. "I have reason to believe people's power starts in their feet - so I've been hiding under tables in the university looking for ability holders the past couple months,"

"Ah, yes, like any normal person would," I reply sarcastically.

He doesn't seem to process my sarcasm, though. "Exactly! I mean, people's bodies start at their feet so it's only logical their powers would be there, too, right?"

"Of course," more sarcasm

"Wow! I'm so glad someone gets it! Hey, I have to go check out the tables in building three but here -" he fumbles around his body for a bit and pulls a pen out of his pocket and grabs a paper on the table, "have my number and contact me if you wanna help look for some ability holders," he says as he scribbles number down and with a tone that is far too serious to think he's being sarcastic as well. He shoves the paper in my mind with a large grin before running out the door - off to grope more legs, probably.

I'm left dumbfounded and alone once more and shrug before adding the contact in my phone. He was weird but I didn't really have any friends yet - and beggars can't be choosers, you know.

I save him as "Stalker McGee" and sit back down in my seat, proceeding to scroll though more memes.

Super powers.... How ridiculous.