Super Nobody (Alphas and Omegas Book 1) Read Online Free

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Michael's father. She wasn't much taller than Michael, and the
common joke around the house was that when Michael hit his growth
spurt she was going to be the baby of the family. Still, Susanna
Washington's hips were shaped to have her fists balled on them, and
her eyebrows had that soft arch that could travel up in concern, or
turn wicked at any time.
    She rushed straight up to him just as soon as
the front door opened, making baby noises at him.
    “Ooh, there's my widdle Michael...are you
alwight?”
    “Mom, I'm not three,” he said. She ignored
him, pulling up his bandaged hand and inspecting the job the school
nurse had done. He could see the dressing go through the inspection
process. If it wasn't up to snuff, she would be on the phone,
leaking acid into the ears of his school administration. She had
transformed into a demon when Mrs. Richardson had checked a mistake
as right on his third grade spelling test.
    “Did they get all the glass out?”
    “Yes mother,” he whined. “I'm fine.
Really.”
    “And who is this...this bully?” she spat the
word.
    “He's just some kid at school.”
    “And you've given him hundreds of dollars for
no good reason, is that it?”
    No, he wanted to tell her, he did it so Trent
would keep smiling instead of following him home and punch him in
the guts every day with his band of merry idiots. He did because
the paper route wasn't difficult. It was an hour and a half a day,
seventy houses and the library, and he did it because he got the
chance to talk to Lily several times a week. He couldn't tell her
any of that though. She wouldn't understand. Susanna Washington
wasn't the sort of person who just listened and nodded. She
listened while coiled, ready to get on the phone or in the car, and
make someone's life miserable until she got what she wanted.
Michael had worked hard at this Trent thing, and though he was sort
of proud of himself for beating the snot out of him, it wasn't what
he wanted to do. There were a lot of Trent's shadows around, lots
of them in fifth and sixth grade. They were vicious, they liked to
smash bottles and leave the shards under peoples' car tires. They
liked to let the air out of the tires in the entire bike rack, and
grab peoples' lunches in the morning, just so they could shake up
the cokes until they burst and rocketed across the ground. Beating
up Trent wouldn't put them off his scent. They would swarm him
every single day after school.
    “Mom,” he sighed. She didn't understand,
wouldn't understand. She wasn't built like him.
    “I'm waiting for an explanation, young man.
You know perfectly well that your father and I are here for you. We
put clothes on you, I feed you three meals a day. We put a roof
over your head. I carried you in my body for nine months, and I
will be-”
    Oh great, the nine months thing. This was her
favorite guilt trip. He phased out of her rant, where she talked
about feeding him and burping him and playing with him for years
and years. Duh mom. Who did she expect birthed him and raised
him?
    “Well young man? What do you have to say for
yourself?”
    But he couldn't look at her. First of all, he
didn't want to meet her eyes, see the confusion there, the hurt and
the guilt. Second of all, he didn't want to have to try to explain
something he just couldn't.
    He was ready to build his wall out of 'I
don't knows' when his father walked through the door.
    “Dad?” he asked. He was supposed to be in
Guatemala or something. Somewhere in South America.
    His father filled up the entire doorway. He
was the complete opposite of his wife: he looked like a Terminator
was trapped under his skin, but he couldn't argue with anybody. He
was a marshmallow on the inside. He had those bright blue eyes that
showed every single emotion he was feeling, and the intense brow
didn't help in the slightest. His face could have been chiseled
from granite, and Michael sometimes wondered where his neck had
gone off to. He was dressed in a suit,