Just Another Face in the Crowd

John Smith is quite possibly the most average teenager on the face of the planet.

Until the night he renders the laws of physics obsolete and throws his city into chaos.


1. One


John Smith lazily gazed across the classroom with his dull blue eyes. His gaze settled on the window at the opposite end of the room. That cloud looks like a panda, he thought to himself.

The classroom was quiet, with the occasional murmur or whisper breaking the silence. The sound of pens hurriedly scribbling across paper was like white noise to the students; it was so omnipresent that it had simply faded out. John looked back at his small note book, covered in quickly jotted memos and doodles.

John was what you could describe as being just another face in the crowd. He was average in just about every definition of the word. He was neither an overachiever nor an underachiever, with a steady stream of C+’s or B’s dotting the sides of his report card. When it came to sports, he was not as active as some, more active than others. John definitely was not the most creative teenager in his class, but he was not exactly untalented either.

In terms of physical appearance, he was once again, average; average height, average weight, average build. He had straight black hair, cropped tightly. Dull blue eyes and a somewhat crooked nose adorned his face. A scruffy goatee was just beginning to show on his chin. A faded grey t-shirt and baggy jeans completed his look. Girls would not necessarily drool over him, but he was not without the occasional glance.

John Smith was average, in every sense of the word.

He hated it.

Every day, he sat at his chipped wooden desk and scratched away at it with the edge of his ruler during class. As he stared at the whiteboard filled with numbers and symbols, John thought. He thought about how bland his life was. How he was never the one getting the awards, or never the one called up to give a victory speech.

He resented being average. He constantly wished something, anything, interesting would come into his life. He wished he was above-average. He wanted to be the guy girls fawned over, the guy who could be a hero, the guy who was actually noticed.

John’s thoughts were suddenly disrupted by a whisper from a desk in front of his. He raised his eyebrows, and looked toward the source of the whisper.

Rachel Canning looked back at him with her bright green eyes and a wide smile. Her fiery red hair fell behind her head as she leaned over in her chair.

John returned her smile with a grin of his own. Rachel was one of his best friends, and the two did just about everything together.

Rachel was almost the polar opposite of John. Whereas he was always dressed plainly, Rachel wore colorful clothes that accentuated her style. She was a sociable person; well-liked by just about everyone, spare the teachers who found her attitude somewhat rebellious sometimes. Rachel was actually a sweet girl, but was not too fond of schoolwork.

She was somewhat diminutive in size, but made up for it with her talent in art. She was a painter, and a pretty good one at that. Rachel loved painting beautifully vivid images of landscapes and people.

The girl was quite beautiful herself. She had her fair share of admirers. With her shoulder length auburn locks, her striking green eyes and charming smile, most boys could not help but stop and stare. Truth was, she only had eyes for one boy, who also happened to be her closest friend.

John had a close bond with Rachel, ever since they met when they were only seven. John was fascinated by her love for art, and Rachel enjoyed his company. Rachel loved the fact that John was so average. He was like a blank canvas; full of untold potential if someone used the right colors.

John, despite his secret wishes, was quite down to earth. He would laugh at all her jokes, and never once brag or whine. He was actually very likeable, in his own way.

That was the reason Rachel had fallen in love with him.

Even though John himself did not realize it, he was, subconsciously, actually quite content with his life.

Rachel waved at him from her desk at the front of the class.

He replied with a short salute. She giggled and turned back to her work.

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