Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own any of the characters from the Sky High movie, but I do own Eve, Beck, Kyle, and their dad. And any other characters I think of later.

Chapter 1: Sky High

"Wake up, Eevee! We wouldn't want you to be late for your first day at Sky High, now would we? Oh, I'm just so proud, my little girl's going to my old school! Eevee? Eve. Evelyn, get out of bed right now!"

I poked my head sleepily out of my blankets for a second, stared groggily at my dad, and made some non-committal noise, then promptly buried further into the warm comforter. I was having a really good dream, and I wasn't coming back to reality without a fight.

My dad sighed impatiently, and then gave me an ultimatum.

"Evelyn, if you don't get out of bed in three seconds, I'll be forced to get you out myself. One… Two… Three. You brought this on yourself."

All of a sudden, my world turned upside down. Literally.

"Aww, Dad. I should never have let you watch The Pacifier," I groaned from my position sprawled out on the floor.

He'd tossed my mattress, and everything on it, to the ground. If you've ever seen that movie, you know what I mean. For a brief moment, I considered falling back asleep right there on the floor, but decided against that course of action; if my dad was so set on getting me up that he flipped my bed out from under me, he wasn't going to rest until I was on the bus.

"Fine, I'm getting up. Agh! Trying to anyway. I'm a little tangled up," I explained.

Dad left the room, and I heard him walk across the hall to Beck's room. Of course, she was already up; she was the one who actually wanted to go to that school.

Let me explain, my name is Evelyn Grey, but everyone calls me Eve or Eevee because I don't like the 'Lyn' part. My parents are divorced and my sister, my brother, and I live with my father. That's because my mother is…never mind. Anyway, my dad, Jonathan Grey, is a super hero: Copycat. He can copy people's powers and use them for a couple hours or so. Not one of the most powerful super heroes, but my mom was more than famous enough to compensate for that. I don't want to talk about her. Back on track, my siblings and I are triplets—not identical, but similar—and were born and raised in Canada; in a town in the middle of nowhere in Alberta, to be a bit more precise. We moved to the US of A during the summer. Since my parents went to Sky High, my dad was determined to send Rebecca, who we call Beck, Kyle, and I to the school for kids with powers. That's all well and good for Beck and Kyle. Beck inherited dad's power-copying powers, and Kyle can phase through solid matter, teleport, and become invisible, which are some powers he inherited from…mom.

Unlike them, however, I don't have powers, or else they haven't manifested yet. I'm something of a pessimist, so I'm pretty sure I'm just not getting any powers. Naturally, I don't want to make a fool of myself by going to a school for super-kids and not having super-powers. There's no arguing with my dad though; he just keeps assuring me that I'll get my powers sooner or later. Ha, yeah right.

Enough with the background information. I managed to crawl out of my blankets before they strangled me to death. I rummaged through my closet and pulled out some tight-ish dark jeans and a long-sleeved dark grey shirt. I pulled some navy socks and black runners, then put on my necklace, which was just a plain black cord with a quarter-sized metal disc with an interesting design on it. I looked in the mirror and ran a brush through my shoulder-length dark brown hair. I added a touch of mascara to compensate for what I believe are the woefully thin lower lashes of my otherwise decent sky blue eyes. I grabbed my zippered dark blue sweater and my black messenger bag, and was out of there. I'm not much for how I look, unlike Beck.

Speaking of Beck, I could hear her berating Kyle as I came down the stairs, and about how he looked, coincidentally.

"Kyle, you can't go around looking like you just got out of bed! Have you ever heard of a brush? People are going to know you're my brother, and I don't want you dragging my name down," she fumed.

Kyle was just munching on toast and jam, giving her a nonplussed look. The rant continued, but I wouldn't want to pain you with reciting it all. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel, so she turned her tongue on me.

"The same goes for you, Eve! I can't believe I'm related to you guys--" I cut her off with a look.

Kyle and I are very good at conveying all our thoughts with a look. It's a good way to stop Beck if she's already started; you can't get a word in edgewise then. She's not usually like this, but I guess she's worried about new school first impressions and all that.

As I was spreading blueberry cream cheese on my bagel, I heard Beck mutter under her breath, "Well, at least she's not wearing that hat."

"That reminds me," I said as I snatched my hat out from under a newspaper and gave Beck a glare for trying to hide it. I don't know what her problem was with my black Oakley hat. I put it on, ignoring her scowl.

Beck is the popular one of us triplets; she's all about image. She had her long, dyed chestnut brown hair done up in a bun with some curls cascading down, and her make-up was done just so to compliment her grey-green eyes, which are the same as Kyle's. She was wearing a denim skirt that ended just above her knees, a light pink tank top, and a preppy-looking bright blue sweater-type thing. See, I'm terrible with words. She also wore bright red sandals with heels to make her as tall as me; which is about 5'8". She must've spent forever getting dressed.

Kyle on the other hand actually did look like he just got out of bed. Well, his shaggy, sandy brown hair did anyway. It always looks like that, though. I thought it looked alright, but then I was the only one not to inherit dad's sandy brown hair, so maybe I was just jealous of the colour because…never mind. Kyle is tall, about 6'2", and lithe. He was wearing a dark LPU shirt and baggy jeans. He was the laid-back triplet.

I would be the 'I don't really care' triplet, which is somewhat different than laid-back.

I was halfway through my bagel when dad came in beaming and told us we should be going. Beck grabbed both Kyle and I roughly by the arm and pulled us out the door, barely giving us time to get our bags, and my bagel. She was growling about getting to the bus stop on time even if she had to pull our arms out of their sockets to do so. To prevent that, I pulled my arm out of her death-grip. Kyle teleported a couple meters ahead and flexed his arm to make sure she hadn't broken anything. Beck's dark scowl discouraged any conversation, so we got to the bus stop and waited in silence.

After a few minutes, an ordinary-looking school bus pulled up at the bus stop. Beck plastered a big smile on her face. I thought that maybe I could still make a run for it, but when I looked back I saw that dad was peeking around a corner at us; making sure we got on the bus. Great. Now I had no choice.