Prefects. I had learned this one. Student council types, but with superpowers. They who must be obeyed.

She firmly held the theory that everyone gets at least one very stupid superpower.

I ran like a thing that runs.

Well, what now? You have no job. I have no job. Wanna play Jenga?

Sometimes I even felt like he dated me as part of his plan, like they were going to have a checklist on the application, and one of the things to tick off was going to be, "Do you have a reasonably intelligent girlfriend who shares your aspirations, and who is fully prepared to accept your limited availability?

Mouth guard. And I think we'll start you in goal." Goal sounded like a special job. I didn't want a special job, unless that special job involved sitting on the side under a pile of blankets.

Don't get stabbed. It makes everything awkward.