Lance ascended the front steps and pushed the huge mahogany doors with his free hand. He then crossed the lobby and ascended five flights of stairs. Last year, he only had to ascend four, but this time he would get slightly more training each and every day. His feet glanced lightly over every step as he practically flew up the stairs. He kicked off every wall that got in the way in order to maintain his momentum. He immediately set his record of ten seconds. Last year, it was eight seconds, as he had to climb less stairs.
Once he reached his dorm room, he slumped the duffel bag onto his bed and began unpacking. He slipped his change of clothes into the dresser and temporarily put the rest of his gear into the trunk at the foot of the queen-sized bed. He tossed the aviator shades onto the middle of the bed so he could take care of it later.
From the dresser, Lance slipped on a black
t-shirt containing artwork of Jimi Hendrix. Every tee shirt he brought with him was a logo tee for an artist he especially liked, and he brought many of them as well as tank-tops.
Lance closed up the trunk and headed toward the lounge where most everyone else was. As he walked, he performed some shoulder-centric stretches.
Seniors… One more year, he thought,
one more year and I see the world…He was ecstatic that he was back in California. All his friends and other classmates were here, and the campus had many things he could climb over, around, under, and through. The mansion alone, Lance had climbed many times, much to the slight annoyance of some teachers. They knew about Lance’s interests and powers, so his antics have yet to have consequence.
Once he had arrived, Lance flopped onto an empty lounge chair and sank into it like a string of fresh pasta. His soothing green eyes scanned around, reacquainting themselves with the familiar faces they hadn’t seen for many weeks. He was too laid-back to instigate a conversation and was perfectly happy with simply lounging in the chair, even though two of the creepier classmates in the school were in the same room as him. Though they creeped Lance out something fierce, he still liked them... sorta... Well, more like respected. He didn't dislike anyone, really.