Lance hated airplanes, even though he only had to deal with them only twice a year. They were cramped quarters, and the ceiling was too low for him to ever stand up straight. Quality of the campus aside, the school really saved a lot on plane tickets. On the bright side, at least his parents didn’t have to fork over any money for it.
It was amazing to see Montreal again for the vacation, but now was the time for Lance and his schoolmates to return to their studies down in California- hence the plane ride. Every time he boarded the plane, Lance wished his superpowers also included speed. Though he was probably the fastest natural runner in the school, he knew it would be impossible to cross the continent on foot within the two days the plane ride and the jet-lag recovery would take.
He actually never suffered from jet-lag. The rejuvenating effect of his power left him with great stamina. Most nights, he was merely doing what he did best, except in the darkness of night. The other passengers closest to him usually left the plane pumped-up and confident. One time, a gentleman with a crippled arm sat directly next to Lance, and later left the plane to find that he was able to bend his fingers again. Lance still hated planes for their cramped spaces and forcing him to sit still for hours on-end. He hated planes even when Lance saw his unintentional handiwork celebrate their good health by the time they disembarked.
His single duffel bag was picked up, and Lance left the airport with the bag slung over one shoulder, and the carry-on single-strap knapsack slung over the other. Most folks would assume he was a tourist, what with his lightweight attire, the pilot shades, and the fact that he packed light. In truth, the only stuff he brought was an empty water bottle, multiple changes of clothes, his phone, a tiny GoPro camera complete with SSD storage compatible with it, a very lightweight and sturdy laptop, toiletries, and a music player with an earbud headset that was designed for freerunners and parkour enthusiasts. Also packed was his wallet, which contained his passport and all the necessary things like cash he earned back in Canada and exchanged for US currency. Vacation time was always spent getting his cash reserves built up again.
Lance crossed the parking lot in as straight a line as possible. Oftentimes he performed simple safety vaults and lazy vaults over concrete barriers, as he was toting two bags at once. He wore a white tanktop alongside black, lightweight pants. His tattoos- which held the recent addition of the completed winged gas mask on his right shoulder- were in full view on his muscular, fat-free arms. On both wrists, he wore sweat bands that matched his pants.
At the edge of the parking lot was a car that, unlike the plane ticket, did not look cheap. Seated on the driver’s seat, the school physician greeted him. “Welcome back, Lance,” the older man greeted.
“Glad to be back, Dr. Payne,” Lance replied honestly as he loaded both bags into the trunk of the car. He closed it with a solid thunk, and then pulled his tall frame into the significantly lower passenger’s seat. Due to his abilities, he’s kind of a favourite student for the physician. Lance understood why, but it still made him feel awkward whenever he thought of himself being a teacher’s pet in any way. Sure he was a favourite among the students and was always the first one picked back in his old schools, but students were different from teachers.
“How was your trip?” the physician asked.
“It was just miserable, man,” he replied, "You know how much I hate planes."
“Anyone get healed during the flight?”
“Honestly, I’ve got no idea,” Lance replied. It was true that Lance didn’t know if anyone had been healed, but no-doubt the hours spent on the plane had allowed time for miracles to happen to someone who was aboard. He figured that if he kept this up for another three years, some statistics people would really notice a pattern happening aboard the same air route at the same two times of year. Fortunately, this flight was merely the second-last one he would take. When he went on his world travels, he swore to take boats instead if he needed to cross water. Boats were a lot roomier, and have far more interesting options for movement.
The ride was quick and quiet. Within the next half-hour, Lance spotted the familiar, unorthodox campus. Outside the ornate palace Lance had climbed repeatedly over the years were a few other cars, and many students who had already arrived, or had just arrived. Most recently was Madison. When Dr. Payne had parked his vehicle in his reserved spot, Lance hopped out and grabbed his gear.
He slipped off the pilot shades and hung them over his tank top collar before approaching Deangelo and the others. He became more cautious, but did not betray his pace when he saw that Jason was also there. From the perspective of the other students, compared to last year, Lance’s arms had significantly more ink. By the time he got within five metres of a person, they would feel a wash of rejuvenation, which Lance couldn’t help. “Hey guys, long time no see, eh?” he called in that baritone voice of his, while wearing that charming, carefree grin of his. There was a hint of French-Canadian in his dialect from his many months spent in the States, but he spoke clearly and deliberately, even with the slang he often employed.