INTERLUDE III: TESTING THE WATERS

Taylor sat on the edge of her bed, a pen turning idly between her fingers. The cheap plastic casing caught the light as she rolled it back and forth, familiar and ordinary in every way.

So why did it feel different now?

She exhaled, setting the pen down on her notebook.

Attraction.

The word lingered, heavy with implications. Her powers had always been straightforward—enhanced perception and a force field. Simple. Defined. But what had happened at the gym didn’t fit within those parameters. She’d reached for Brian, and closed the distance without thinking, without adjusting her footwork. The space between them had just… disappeared.

Taylor picked the pen back up and held it loosely between her fingers. She let go.

It dropped onto the notebook with a soft thump.

Of course it did. What else was she expecting?

She frowned and tried again, this time letting the pen hover just at the edge of her fingertips before releasing it. It fell, just as before.

No pull. No unnatural movement.

She leaned back, exhaling through her nose. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe it had been adrenaline, a moment of luck—

But Taylor didn’t believe in luck.

She reached for the pen again but stopped. Instead, her gaze drifted to something else. Across the room, her water bottle sat on her desk.

She focused on it.

Nothing happened.

She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to do, but she knew she had done something back at the gym. The pull had been real.

Taylor clenched her jaw, rubbing her palms together before standing.

Fine. If nothing was happening here, maybe she needed a different approach.

. . . . .

The cool night air ruffled her hair as she stepped onto the sidewalk, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets. Brockton Bay was quieter at this hour, but not silent. A few cars rumbled down the street. A couple of pedestrians moved along the opposite sidewalk, their postures tense, alert—people who knew better than to let their guard down.

Taylor walked without a destination in mind, thoughts turning over themselves. If this was a new aspect of her power, she needed to understand it. The last thing she wanted was to stumble into a fight without knowing what she was doing. The encounter with Stormtiger was enough for a lifetime. 

She paused by a streetlamp, eyes landing on a crushed soda can near the curb.

Small objects. That was the next step, right? If she had affected distance with Brian, then maybe—

She focused.

Nothing.

Her fingers twitched in frustration. This was stupid.

Exhaling sharply, she stepped back, raking a hand through her hair. Maybe she was going about this the wrong way. It had happened instinctively at the gym, not because she’d tried to force it.

So what was different?

She thought back. The moment had been fast, reactive. She had been frustrated, trying to bridge the gap between herself and Brian—

Taylor narrowed her eyes at the can. Then, without overthinking it, she took a quick step forward.

For a split second, she felt something.

A shift. A faint tug in her chest, like something had stirred in response.

The can rattled.

Her breath caught.

She stared at it, half-expecting it to move again, but it remained still.

Had she imagined it? No—she was sure she had felt something.

Her pulse picked up as she took another step, this time deliberately. Nothing.

She frowned, stepping back, then forward again, faster.

The tug returned—subtle but there, like a thread just out of grasp.

She just had to figure out how to pull.