1. If I could be anyone, it wouldn't be me.

“Hey!” I bellowed. But then I thought about it. “Never mind. We’re talking about girls. Two outta three is good enough.”

When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell. 

Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may. 

After all...I can't fix stupid.

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Chapter 1

If someone told me I’d have to die to be a hero, I’m not sure I would have taken the job.

Yeah, I’m only 17.

Not even the popular kid, which makes this more awkward. I’m guessing most people will probably think this is just a tale of fiction. Some story of a bored teenager made up to get more attention in a world starving for attention. But you know what? They can think what they want. I can’t fix stupid.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

“Oh, stop.”

“It hurts,” I growled back. Truth was, everything hurt. That’s what happens when you try to be the good guy. The bad guys in my social spheres are bigger, stronger, faster, outnumber me, and prevent my escape. Teens are mean. Cruel even. The guys are bad, but girls are even worse. Any kid outside the ‘popular’ circles in school knows this. If you can’t meet the current standard for fame, talent, beauty, or connections, you’re just raw meat for the peer grinder.

A sacrifice for sport and cruel entertainment among youth who think the public school system is ‘real life’.

Thick fingers worked over my wounds, probing the depth of each cut. So far, there wasn’t a need for stitches, which was…good. No stitches meant no ER or med center. The last thing I needed was more parental attention. At least the sun had graced us with its presence. With the clouds retreating and the wind dying down, you almost forgot it was October. I closed my eyes to the warmth and… “Ow!”

“Wuss.”

“Jerk.”

“Baby.”

“Bully.”

“Whiner.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled. “For putting me back together.”

“You’re lucky. You know that.”

I always felt lucky at the Matthews’ home. It was my home away from home. Especially since mom died. When I had nowhere to go and no one to talk to, the Matthews had been there with open arms, as my family cracked and fell apart. Three houses down from mine, the door was always open, day or night.

Great people.

“I got beat up and pushed down a ravine, Evan. And here I was thinking my life was improving.” I flinched away from the evil cotton swab darting towards my face. “Ow. Okay, we’re done.”

The back porch and pool area were a blind spot to the neighbors, overlooking a steep ravine that descended into miles of pine trees. I always joked that it was perfect for teens, up to no good. Evan had the first-aid kit spread out across the patio table. He’d angled the umbrella back to use the sunlight for inspecting my wounds.

“That Travis came to get me,” Evan said. He grabbed another cotton ball and doused it ruthlessly with rubbing alcohol. I think he got a kick out of helping me, so long as I experienced pain. He liked to remind me it was a natural consequence of my choices. Choices that too often seemed to suck. “No, you’re not done. Sit down — that cut on your cheek needs closing.” Strong fingers gripped my arm. “If he hadn’t, you might not have been found…and I mean it. Sit.”

“Someone would have shown up,” I argued.

Evan frowned at me.

“Eventually,” I added.

He lowered his hands and stared.

“Maybe,” I grumbled. Evan was probably right. He’d found me unconscious, along the bank of the stream. My bullies had dragged me away from the water, but I could have frozen through the night before anyone noticed I was gone. “But I am glad Travis came to you. Thanks for hauling my butt back here.”

Again the nod. “Always.”

I could count the friends I had on one hand. Evan was my best friend. Had been since we were little. Something about me and a Doberman Pincer during Halloween. I’m told I got between the attacking mutt and Evan, but all I remembered was trying to get to the candy first. My face got torn up, needed a bunch of stitches, and our parents became close friends over the event. Evan and I followed suit.

“I heard Jeffrey had his locker broken into during the flag football game today,” he said nonchalantly. He pinched the cut on my cheek shut, and dabbed it with some glue.“ Someone apparently tampered with his shampoo,” he said. Satisfied, he gave me a quick once-over, then cleaned up the first aid kit. 

“Is that so?” I said.

“Uh huh.” Squeezing the cotton-ball remains and wrappers into a clump, he tossed it at the tiny trash basket near his feet. It missed. Rolled between my feet instead. “Guys on the team were laughing about his shiny new dome. That, and losing his eyebrows.”

It was hard not to smile. Just the thought of the biggest jerk in school getting pranked that hard was enough the make this day worth it. “Does anyone know who did it?”

Evan snorted. “Nope. But for all the times he’s terrorized other kids in the school, it was hilarious.”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching into my front pocket. I pulled out the crumpled five ounce lotion container and tossed it onto the table.

Evan snatched it up. “You didn’t,” he smirked. 

I shrugged.

“Hair removal cream?”

“Who knew it would work if mixed with shampoo?”

Evan laughed, “I’m thinking Jeffrey.”

I laughed with him. “Mom used that brand, and it was small enough to conceal in my front pocket, so…”

Evan shot me a sly grin. “So if you got caught, they’d never check your front pockets.”

“If Jeffrey and his dogs are anything, it’s homophobic.”

Evan laughed again, leaning back into his chair. The hollow metal frame creaked in protest under the weight. He gave me a solemn look as he folded tree trunk arms. “I take it from Travis’s swollen face and mud soaked clothes you were a diversion?”

I shrugged. “They thought Travis did it. Jumped him after school. When I saw them take the creek route home, I couldn’t just walk away.”

Evan smiled. “I know. You’re decent that way.”

“You mean stupid,” I said.

“That’s not how I see it.”

I ran my fingers carefully over the cuts on my face. Three bandages and two sealed cuts. Plus, no one had broken my nose for once. I was getting better at this. “You didn’t see it at all, Evan. Which reminds me…if you weren’t at football practice with all your non-nerd linebacker buddies, this wouldn’t have happened at all.”

Evan scowled. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen you fight, remember? Those idiots wouldn’t have a chance.”

“That wasn’t my point.”

“Then what was your point? Cause I keep trying to stand up for myself, just like you tell me to. I don’t turn away or hide when someone smaller is being picked on, but that only places the bully’s target on my back.”

“Violence isn’t always the answer, Wendell.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Violence is the question. The answer to bullies is ‘yes’.”

Evan’s scowl deepened. “I’d prefer to talk things through…peaceably. Get people to listen to reason. That’s how to resolve issues long term.”

I snorted. “Says the six foot two Mother Teresa on steroids. If you knocked them on their butts, I guarantee they’d listen.”

Evan sighed. “Now you’re the one not listening.”

It’s not that Evan was wrong, but we had very different lives. Where he was a beefy football player and babe magnet, I was more like a skinny-nerd fridge magnet. The kind toddlers knock to the kitchen floor when they brush up against them. Evan received cheers and adoration, whereas I received sneers and abhorrence. Just his presence in a room has stopped fights by reputation alone. I’d seen him protect me against four guys his own size. When Evan couldn’t reason his way out of something and violence was the last option, he was…inhuman. Moving between enemies with timing and precision, using just enough force to put an attacker down. No more.

He’d even turned some conflicts into opportunities to make friends. Guys, who to this day, would watch Evan’s back if needed. I still don’t understand how he did it, but I saw it with my own eyes.

Sinking back into the chair, I folded my arms defiantly, anger swelling in my chest. We’d had this talk many times before. He just didn’t get it. Not from my perspective.

How we’d remained best friends often confused me. As little kids, you just have to like each other and play, but as teens? We had little to nothing in common. We didn’t walk in the same social circles, and even our family lives were night and day in comparison. I’d asked Evan once why we were friends. He said, “I think it’s because when you’re around, I feel like a complete person.” When I’d opened my mouth to argue, more than a decade of proof forced it shut again. Fact was, I’d worked flippin’ hard to deserve a friend like him. 

What Evan’d done wrong to get me as a friend wasn’t my problem.

“Sorry,” I said. Common sense beat my selfish moron version back into a mental closet, and I forced a not-quite-pathetic smile to my face. “The last thing I want is to replace my bully with another bully. Jeffrey may be a jerk, but that doesn’t mean I want to put you in that position.” I gave him my bouncing head from a side-to-side gesture. Translation: I’m being a jerk. We both know it. I’m sorry. Can we move on now?

He gave me a nod. “It’s Friday. You’re safe. Travis is home safe, and my mom and dad are going out for the evening. You…need to get home soon?”

I shook my head. 

“Does…your dad need to know about today?”

“Naw. Like you said, I’m safe. It’s over, and I don’t think he’d notice, anyway.” Dad preferred work to being at home. My cuts would be mild scars before we’d end up in the same room again. We’d become estranged roommates, instead of father and son. I was a walking reminder of mom’s passing, and it hurt him. If he looked at me for too long, or had to hold a conversation for more than a few minutes, you could see it.

Something in him had broken.

It’s one reason the Matthews welcomed me, and took every opportunity to encourage me. To be patient with my dad. To remember how much my mom loved both of us. They’d seen it all. The car accident. Praying at the hospital. The funeral in the rain. Reaching out to my father in his grief. Mom had been the center of our family.

The center of my universe. Now she was gone.

If I asked for anything, my dad wouldn’t hesitate to provide it. He just couldn’t give what I needed.

A father.

What do you do when you’ve become invisible in your own house to those you love? When you have no one to turn to? To talk to? My dad loves me. Of course he does, but he was hurting. The love of his life had been taken. “He’s…working late,” I said, shaking the oncoming depression from my mind.

“So you’re free,” said Evan. “Cool. What say we order pizza?”

Ah. A subject my mind could switch to.

Pizza was food of gods, college students, and soccer moms too tired to deal with complaining kids. Our source came from a jolly 400lb Greek dough-slinger named ‘Bud’. I know the name resonates more with riding a horse and herding cows, but no-one questioned the results of the six-foot-four owner of the local pizzeria. Beard like a mighty dwarf and hands the size of anvils, Bud worked pizza magic like a sorcerer.

The corners of my mouth curled up. “I’ll do one better. How about pizza, get out your dad’s projector, and we invite some girls over to watch a movie?”

Evan cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Have anyone specific in mind?”

Did I have anyone in mind? What a stupid question. My fingers nervously strummed the surface of the table. “We should definitely invite Cindi, of course.”

“Of course.”

“…and maybe…uh…”

“Yes?” Evan’s smile grew a bit too wide.

My fingers froze in mid-strum. “I’m thinking…Christie?” 

Evan leaned forward, his chair creaking again in protest. “You know that’s another reason Jeffrey loves hitting you.”

“Hey. They’re not an item anymore! In fact, the last time I was at the Tiki shop, she told him off. By social rules, any respectable, intelligent, and…questionably good-looking guy should be able to approach her.”

“Intelligent?”

“Hey!” I bellowed. But then I thought about it. “Never mind. We’re talking about girls. Two outta three is good enough.”

Evan laughed.

“We just need the right movie to entice her to join us.”

“Entice her? Wendell, you have a kind heart and great personality. We don’t need to ‘entice’ anyone.”

“Ouch.” I couldn’t help but cringe. “Saying your buddy has a ‘great personality’ is like saying your cousin Gracie has a ‘sweet spirit’.” Evan covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Girls have never been interested in my personality.” I paused. “Actually, girls had never been interested in me at all.”

“Only because they haven’t gotten to know you,” he countered.

“Which is why Wendell needs every advantage he can get. They can’t get to know him if they don’t show up. Which means Wendell needs to get Christie’s attention and keep it.”

“You just referred to yourself in third person.”

“Wendell knows that,” I said.

Evan just shook his head.

“What?” I said.

He leaned forward and poked the center of my chest with a meaty index finger. “That is the most valuable thing you possess, Wendell. Your heart. No, don’t roll your eyes. Until you decide to be who you truly are, genuine and boldly who…you…are, you won’t find happiness. You won’t be satisfied with yourself or anything you do. You put on this act to impress girls, but you’re selling a lie. When they discover the real you, they walk away, because you’re not what they wanted. Because you sold them on a lie.”

“That’s exactly why I…”

“Shut up. I’m not finished.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Start selling the real you, Wendell. Forget what you think girls want and just BE.” It was strange to see that pleading look on Evan’s face. He poked my chest again, harder this time. “There are talents and traits you haven’t discovered yet. Things that will matter to those who matter. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I nodded. “Agreed. Big Trouble in Little China would be perfect.”

Evan sat there and stared at me blankly.

“What?” I said.

“You didn’t understand a single word, did you?”

“Oh, yes, I did. Be genuine and bold. You said be myself. That movie is SO me.”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I am. It has adventure, mystery, suspense, a dash of romance. I’d call it a well-rounded thematic masterpiece. Perfect for mixed company.”

Evan sat back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Sure, if that mixed company were nerds and geeks. The only ‘dash’ of romance is a young Kim Cattrall being kissed in an elevator.”

I bobbed my eyebrows up and down, grinning. “But Jack Burton does it so well.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “If you want to impress Christie, you want movies more like Legally Blonde, or maybe Notting Hill, Wendell. Choose an all-time chick-flick classic. The key here is to pick something the girls would enjoy.”

“What about us? I’d like to enjoy the movie too.”

Evan gave me a quick jab in the arm. “We enjoy Cindi and Christie.”

“Oh. Right.” That was a good point. It was the whole reason we were doing this in the first place, duh. Evan was always thinking ahead. Another reason I was glad we were friends. Which, if I was being honest, often helped me sidestep the trouble I found myself in. “Can we try the plan?” I asked.

That got a full-blown moan. “No, Wendell. It’s a horrible idea. You don’t need to do that. If Christie joins us for pizza and the movie, you already know she wants to be here.”

Right. Another good point. I knew locking the doors probably sounded serial-killer-ish. Even I could imagine red and blue cop lights flashing if things went south. Not like I set the idea in stone. “But if we watched Big Trouble in Little China, we’d also have monsters in play. Monsters could work to our advantage. Monsters are scary. Scared girls want to be comforted. Comforting often means hugs.” I flashed my toothy smile. “We enjoy hugging girls…why are you laughing?”

“You make things hard that aren’t hard, Wendell. If it’s a movie Cindi likes, it has a better chance of interesting Christie, because Cindi will sell it.”

“Fair enough.”

“In fact, I’ll even ask Cindi to invite Christie herself.”

“You’d do that?”

Evan placed an open hand on his chest and gave me a genuine grin. “For you? Of course I would. So would Cindi — who thinks you’re sweet and misunderstood, because she’s gotten to know you.”

“Really,” I said. I mean, I always knew Cindi was incredibly intelligent for someone so pretty, but “I thought she’d talked with me because you put her up to it?”

“Nope,” he said. “Cindi says you’re a good guy, funny, and she thinks the girls are missing out. She said so herself, to my face.”

Huh. I think that was the first compliment I’d gotten from a girl. Besides my mom…or Mrs Matthews. I mean, the girls were missing out, of course, but…

Evan gave me his famous ‘you’re such an idiot’ look and sighed. “I’ll start making the calls. Which gives you enough time to get home, wash up and change into something nice. Let’s time it, so you get back here before the pizza arrives.”

“Change into what?” I asked.

“Something nicer than a smiley tee. Please trust me on this, Wendell. It’ll make a good impression on Christie, and it’s still you. Try one of your button-down shirts. Maybe something you’d wear to church?”

I brushed some of the dried dirt from my jeans. Okay, I was dirty. The confrontation with Jeffrey had included some rough and tumble, but a button-down shirt? What next, a tie? So you and I are clear here in this story…I’m a classic guy. Jeans, sneakers, and a black smiley tee. I own over two dozen of them, all with unique expressions printed on the front. While my peers wore Marvel, DC and popular sport brand names, I wore the ‘everyone’ brand. My brand. A comfortable black cotton tee with a bright yellow smiley on it.

Think about it. You could travel around the world and find plenty of places where people won’t know the trending superheroes touted by mega-corporations. But no matter where you go, everyone knows what a smiley face is. Every human being on our planet can understand a simple facial expression.

That’s right, the Wendell P. Dipmier brand is global.

“I’m thinking a smiley blowing kisses would work better,” I said. “If I make subtle hints about how I feel, Christie might pick up on it.”

The house phone rang.

Grabbing the small trash can at his feet, Evan walked towards the patio door. “I have no doubt she’ll get the hint. Just…clean up and I’ll get this started, alright? Seven o’clock. Sound good?”

“Okay,” I said, then snatched the crumpled ball of trash from between my feet. Without a word, I threw it at the back of Evan’s head.

His hand shot up, palm towards me, fingers spread,…and caught it. Over his shoulder, without turning around, caught it.

I laughed. “Impressive.”

Evan grinned as he reached the door. “It’s all in the reflexes,” he said. Then, more seriously, “Don’t be late. Seven o’clock, okay? We’ll…work with what we have.” The screen door clunked behind him and the door closed.

I couldn’t help grinning so wide my cheeks hurt. It was actually going to happen. I’d been at this for years, and now Evan and Cindi were going to help me?

My first date with Christie Baxter.

I’d been on a date before, sure, but not with a girl like Christie. Not a girl-girl. Soft. Pretty. Someone who smelled like flowers or a hint of vanilla instead of acne cream and garlic. I’d filled in for Evan when his cousin Gracie came to town. A double date thing. She wasn’t overly bad looking once you got past the pig-tails, intense eczema across cheeks and chin, and whatever that green stuff was, stuck in her braces.

I’d cut my lips on those braces. Not voluntarily, mind you. Gracie tried to kiss me in the back seat of Evans’ car. He got out to open the door for his date and Gracie jumped on me. My charm must have been in overdrive. All I remember saying was, ‘Hi. Nice to meet you.’ I think it got translated as ‘Hi. I’m Wendell, the pool boy.’ Next thing I know, pig-tails and a wiggling tongue lunged at my face.

Wasn’t too bad…only needed three stitches.

This date would be a whole new experience. I’d had a crush on Christie ever since middle school. We sat next to each other for most classes in high school. The thing I always noticed was she looked like a girl. Maybe that’s weird to say, but she wore dresses. She had long hair. Sometimes she had her nails done, but it was a soft color, without all the pictures and sparkles and…stuff. No make-up plastered on her face, just lip gloss and a smile like sunshine.

She also behaved like a girl. Every paper passed to her was met with a ‘thank you’, every request ending with ‘please’. She was one of the few girls who didn’t run when I approached. If I said ‘hello’, she’d smile and say ‘hello’ back.

That had to mean something, right?

Threading my fingers behind my head, I closed my eyes and sank back, grinning into the sun. Its glorious warmth felt good on my abused face. More potential man scars, that’s what these were. I wondered what Christie would think when she saw them?

“Oh my,” I said in my best female imitation. “Wendell, how did you ever get such manly-man scars like those?”

Sitting upright, “Didn’t you hear?” I gave her my dashing smile and said deeply, “I had to step in and save a young boy from an untimely thrashing.”

Hands went to her face as Christie gasped, femininely horrified. “Who would do such a wretched thing to a child?”

Rolling my shoulders back, as I naturally would, “It wasn’t just one villain, Christie. It was three.”

A single hand reached out to touch my fully flexed and eventually to-be-chiseled chest. Her hand quivered, and she added another gasp, just to keep it real. “Is that…how you got those painful looking scars?”

My smile widened. “You mean the ones that make me irresistibly handsome?”

Now it’s Christie that smiles, lips trembling. Her brown eyes were so warm and large, I could swim in them. “Yes,” she said with a breathy sigh.

“It is,” I reply, then pause for her adoration to envelop me. When she’s had her fill, I wrap an arm around her voluptuous frame. “It would have been wrong for me to thrash them without mercy. I let them beat upon me as a diversion. Just long enough to allow the boy to flee.”

That’s when she falls into me, overcome by my masculine and heroic presence. She rests her head against my chest. My other arm wraps around her and I allow myself a moment,…or five…to comfort her. In those moments, Christie wonders why she hadn’t noticed me before. The way I stand, carry myself, the deepness of my voice and the warmth of my touch. She then realizes she could have basked in my presence for the past four years.

That makes me smile from ear to ear.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be great,” I said aloud. “One of the prettiest girls in town is joining me for dinner and a movie. What could get better than that!?”

‘Monsters, that’s what,’ said an inner voice. Over the years, I’d named him Doubt. Sometimes he made a good argument, but mostly he was annoying. ‘Monsters are terrifying,’ Doubt continued. ‘Monsters drive people to take action. Monsters are a key to forging heroes. Heroes get the girls. If there was ever a shortcut to the part of a hero, Wendell, a good scary flick was it.’

That…was a good point.

Evan already had a girl. Evan didn’t need to impress anyone, because he impressed everyone. Evan didn’t need to be a hero. He already was a hero. Big, strong, smart, kind, protective, and admired by everyone I could think of.

Me?

The Universe and I weren’t exactly on talking terms. Anything having to do with girls, trying to look cool, or the basic functions of life, went wrong. Timing, first impressions, second, third and fourth impressions, job opportunities, PE tests at school, anything having to do with that...math stuff, all flops.

Evan was wrong. 

The stable things I had in my life died with my mom. I needed all the help I could get. He and Cindi could help all they wanted, but if this was going to succeed, I needed to sidestep the Universe.

Tonight, I needed to be the hero.

“Exactly,” I said under my breath. Looking up, I shook my fist at the sky defiantly. “It’s MY turn to be the hero. MY turn to battle the monsters and get the girl!”

Problem was, I had no idea the Universe was listening.

…or that it would send an actual monster to test my resolve.

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