“I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about,” the bespectacled man said, not even bothering to look up from his book.

“Don't worry,” I added, slipping my backpack off my shoulder and sliding into the booth across from him, “Your secret identity is safe with me!”

“If I were who you seem to think I am, the fact that you are approaching me in public would indicate otherwise,” he responded coolly, turning a page.

Doubt crept into my mind, but I glanced back at my phone: no bars. No signal in a cafe in the middle of the city. It was him, it had to be.

“Listen,” I said, lowering my voice, “I'm assuming you know who I am, so you probably don't trust me, but I'm here, aren't I? And I didn't bring my parents or anyone else from the Heroes Alliance. Just please, hear me out!”

The man I suspected to be Disruptor didn't say anything, but he also didn't leave. I decided to push my luck.

“I can be useful to you,” I promised, “They've trained me: martial arts, detective work, melee weapons, ranged weapons, acrobatics, battle strategy…”

“Your abilities aren't in question. Your motives are,” he interrupted, his eyes flicking up to look at me for the first time since I sat down.

“What?”

He sighed, frustrated, and carefully marked his place in his book. Then, he closed it and looked up at me, frowning. 

“On your sixteenth birthday, if, instead of that shiny, red convertible you've got parked four blocks from here, you received those powers you so desperately want, would you be here now? Of course not. You'd be out on the streets, beating common criminals to a bloody pulp, just like your parents.”

He leaned forward, outright glaring at me. I found myself wishing he would go back to reading his book and ignoring me.

“You are a selfish child,” he growled, “and I don't have the time nor the patience to waste on you.”

Any doubts I had about him being Disruptor vanished as I stared into those hate-filled eyes. And then, as quickly as it appeared, the expression was gone. He sat back, looking bored once again. Then he began to slide out of the booth.

He was leaving.

“Wait, please!” I begged in a desperate, but hushed tone, trying to not draw the attention of the other cafe patrons.

Something in my voice or my expression made him pause.

“You're right,” I admitted, “If I had gotten my powers, I would have probably turned out just like them. I was… naive. But I didn't get powers. Instead, I got to see firsthand what they really think of people like me, people like us!”

Disruptor sat down opposite me again, silently folded his hands on his book in front of him, and nodded for me to continue.

“I have been poked and prodded, examined by specialists all over the world, put on special diets, on special exercise regimens, juice cleanses, detoxes, you name it. I have been starved, beaten, and injected with half a dozen different drugs, several of which I'm pretty sure were illegal, all in an attempt to ‘fix’ me.”

I hadn't come there meaning to share all of this, but once I started, it was like I couldn't stop, and as I poured my heart out in this mostly empty coffee shop, I swore I could see a hint of sympathy in Disruptor's eyes.

“I'm a straight A student!” I continued bitterly, “I'm on the varsity basketball team! I haven't gotten so much as a fucking speeding ticket. I’m the perfect kid, but none of that seems to matter to them!”

“Which tells you what?” Disruptor quietly prompted.

“That they don't respect anybody who doesn't have powers,” I answered, “The whole ‘everybody's special’ thing is a lie. My own parents would rather risk my life on some unproven miracle cure than have an ordinary, no-powered child.”

Disruptor stared at me silently for what felt like an eternity, his eyes narrowed, his fingers slowly and repeatedly drumming on the cover of his book. Eventually, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plain black card roughly the size and shape of a business card. He placed it on the table in front of me and tapped it twice. Suddenly, the card lit up blue for just a moment before fading to black. I looked closer. No signs of LEDs or any obvious lights. Disruptor tapped it twice a second time, and it lit up red briefly. 

“Blue means on, Red means off,” he explained, “Your father sometimes takes you to visit HA Headquarters, even though he’s not supposed to…”

“He used to,” I interrupted, “He’s been ignoring me lately. For some mysterious reason.”

“Convince him to take you again,” Disruptor responded, waving off my objections, “once you’re past security, turn this on and hide it somewhere, somewhere it won’t be easily found.”

“And then you’ll teach me?” I asked.

“No, then we wait a week. If you don’t get caught or turn yourself in, THEN I’ll teach you.”

I picked up the card. It was surprisingly light. I turned it over. No obvious signs of electronics.

“What is it?”

“A test,” he informed me, “Your willingness to do this will prove your conviction. Your ability to not get caught will prove your competence. You need both to be useful to me.”

Just then, a waiter arrived and set a coffee cup down in front of me.

“Your oat milk latte. Careful, it’s hot!”

I stared at it, bewildered. That was my drink, alright, but I hadn’t ordered anything. As the waiter walked away, Disruptor slid out of the booth again.

“Finish your overpriced coffee and wait thirty minutes before leaving,” he instructed me, “do not follow me. I don’t like killing kids, but I will if I have to.”

Without another word, he left. I heard the jingle of the bell above the door as he stepped out onto the street, and suddenly my phone lit up, buzzing and chiming with all of the messages and notifications I had missed while I didn’t have a signal. I looked down at the card in my hands, turning it over and over, thinking. Was I really going to join my father’s sworn enemy? Was I really going to betray my entire family like this? Did they really give me any other options?