ONE HUNDRED NINETY-TWO: Flashes IV
192
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Ninety minutes ago…
“Thank you for coming,” Torsten Klein said, running a hand over his short, salt-and-pepper hair. The expression on his face was wry as he addressed the small group of current and former superheroes who had assembled in a classroom in the MagiPhysical Education building. “I’m sorry to put you all in desks like you’re students. The meeting room upstairs was booked.”
“I’m only offended you’ve bought new desks,” said a woman whose long, deep brown hair spilled down the back of an old gray sweatshirt. Her dark eyes were lively, and she smiled as she took in the classroom. “We used to sit at tables that had so many names and hero mottos carved into the top that it was impossible to take a paper exam without your pencil stabbing through.”
“I remember those tables,” Torsten said. “Not fondly, but I do remember them. It’s good to see you, Hale. Did your husband change his mind about coming today?”
“No. He’s making sure the vending machines are still high quality. He’ll be right back. We can get started without him.”
“I’m here!” A man entered the room and tossed Hale a bottled tea from the stash of snacks and drinks in his arms. He sat down in the desk beside her. “We haven’t started gossiping about the kids yet, have we?”
“Not yet,” Torsten replied. “I think we’re all at least familiar with each other, except maybe Aparna? Do you know our other volunteers?”