The New Kid Is No Angel

This was what I got for being nice to the new kid and inviting him to hang out. Reading through my comics collection in my bedroom, we'd been arguing all morning.

"You're so stupid," he said for maybe the millionth time. "If you could be invisible, why would you choose to be a shapeshifter instead? You could just go wherever you wanted in secret."

"Because," I said, trying to maintain my composure, "maybe you want to be seen. Like there's the girl you think is pretty but she only likes really tall guys. How is it going to help to be invisible? Isn't that your problem already? That you're invisible to girls?"

"Well, it's not like the girls are crawling all over you, either."

"I meant the universal you," I said. "Oh, jeez, what time is it?"

"Yeah, it's getting late. I gotta go."

I saw him to the door. We walked outside together. I could tell he was still mad at me. I had won most of the arguments hands down. We probably wouldn't be spending any more Saturday mornings together.

"I still think superfast speed beats stretch-ability," he said.

I shrugged. "Maybe. But not for a girl."

"You think about girls too much," he said, and then he unfolded his enormous wings and took off into the sky, his beating pennons lifting his heavy body higher, falling a bit, then lifting him still higher, until a wind gust caught him and he glided in the direction of his house.

Seems slow and sweaty, I thought, and teleported back to my bedroom.