The Giant

 "Seriously? You're wearing a pink sweater?"

 Sol Stanton grit his teeth. All he wanted to do was go home as the moon and stars were becoming visible. He  carried two grocery bags in each giant hand and his stomach was roaring like an angry lion. This was no time to be stopped on the sidewalks in Augusta, but these thugs were in his way. Ugh, they stunk of cigarettes and had bottles of booze in their hands. Didn't seem like they were going to get out of his way either. And all were doing were laughing at his sweater, of all things.

 "Awww, how adooorable," one thug hiccupped, flashing a toothy grin. Or, at least, it would be toothy if most of his teeth weren't rotted out. "He's got a sweatter from mommy. Oh, is she gonna send you your little binky-winky, too?"

 The group laughed and another thug pipped, "How old are you, 12? What kind of guy wears stupid things like that?"

 "And pink? Pink's for girls! Do you have a pussy between your legs?" They sniggered as their friend  crossed his legs in what he thought was a girly way and said in a high pitched voice, "Oooh, I hope nobody finds out I'm actually a dyke!"

 Sol sighed as the drunkards broke into laughter. What fine men they were. They would surely make a woman's day. "I have no time for this," he said, voice deep and stern. "Move out the way."

 Apparently they didn't hear him clear enough, as he heard one of their crew say, "Oh, I bet he crossdresses back at home, wearing frilly little dresses!"

 "Probably a giant fag, too! I mean, what kind of guy actually goes out like that, anyway?!"

 "Move out the way, please," Sol repeated, slumping a little from the weight of the bags.

 The thugs turned turned to him and grinned. The one with most of his teeth rotted out asked, "Sorry, what was that? We couldn't hear ya, girly."

 Sol wanted to sock him right then and there. Where does he get off? But he refrained from doing so and instead, glared intensely at the leader and said in a stern voice, "Move."

 The toothless leader walked up to him. He had to stand up on his tippy toes to even get close to Sol's face. The giant could smell the mix of alcohol and smoke as the thug replied with a grin, ever so slowly, "Make me." The stench burned his nose, made his eyes almost water, but he did not falter.

 Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought of the earth, sturdy and powerful, rising from beneath the thug's feet and knocking him up 20 feet into the air. Soon after he did so, he heard a scream. He opened his eyes to see the group of thugs staring at a pillar of earth that rose from the concrete sidewalk and looking up at their leader, soaring up, up, up until he came down, down down and went splat beside them. They panicked as  Sol walked around the pillar and down the sidewalk, scattering as he got too close to them.

The thugs returned to their spot and crowded around their leader as the giant man in the pink sweater walked down the street as if nothing had happened, then turned towards each other with fear in their eyes. That man was a psychic. Psychics aren't to be messed with. And boy, did they pray that they never saw that particular psychic ever again.

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 Home. Finally, home.

 It wasn't very impressive for a house. It was just a small blue house on Wendy Lane, with a small kitchen, a living room, two bedrooms, and one bathroom. The walls inside were white as white could be, although Sol considered painting them a nice shade of yellow. His parents and parents-in-law always complained about the lack of expensive things, like a 50'' LCD TV with Blu-ray and every DVD known to mankind, or maybe one of those GameStation5000s, or maybe even 3D Printer to print out gifts and jewelry for people! He politely declined all of them, though. A small HD TV, a desktop computer, and other bare necessities was  enough for him and his wife, Angie. Not like his current salary as a part-time writer and a cashier at the Antheia Flower Shop was able to afford any extravagences aside from maybe a short vacation to the Bahamas.

As Sol opened up the door, he set the groceries on an empty chair at the kitchen table before trudging over to the green sofa in front of the TV and slumped right in. He reached for the remote on the arm of the sofa and turned the TV on, flicking through the channels until he found Roses Have Thorns playing on one of his soap channels. He watched as a red haired woman and a black haired man, meeting at a harbor as the sun set over the horizon, yelled at each other as melodramatically as possible.

"Henry, I trusted you! I did all I could to make you happy, and all you do is ask for more while you go fuck somebody else on the side!"

"But baby, it was a one time thing! Promise! She's a nobody, while you're my everything! Please, you gotta forgive me, Jasmine!"

"You have a chronic cheating problem and you're asking her to forgive you again?" Sol grumbled  as his body seemed to sink deeper into the sofa. He heard tiny footsteps and, before he could turn towards the sound, found his eyes covered up by tiny palms.

 "Guess who?" asked a sweet voice.

 Sol chuckled and replied, "Hmm, it can't possibly be you, Angie. Nope, not at all!"

 Angie giggled and removed her hands before kissing Sol's forehead gently and running her hands through his short, black hair. "You got me again! Did you get the groceries?"

"Yeah, left them on the chair near the kitchen table. You making dinner tonight?"

 Angie blinked. "I thought you were making dinner toni-"

GROOOOWL.

The giant blushed. "Er, um..."

 His wife slapped him gently on the shoulder. "Fine, I'll make it tonight. Poor thing, you're starving!" She giggled again before walking into the kitchen, her long, black hair swaying by her shoulders as she rolled up the long, green sleeves of her shirt and searched the groceries for things she could cook real fast. "How was work, honey?"she asked, pulling out some pancake batter, eggs, and a gallon of milk from one of the bags.

 "Nothing too exhausting, just an upset customer because one of the nicer boquets we stock wasn't in stock right now. The walk home was more annoying."

 Angie took out a bowl and a whisk before pouring in some pancake mix, cracking too eggs, and pouring in a cup of milk. "Was there a lot of people on the sidewalk?"

 Sol could hear her whisking away now. "Just a bunch of drunkards."

"Did they make fun of you?"

"Not for long."

Sizzle.

"How far did you send him flying?"

"Maybe a bit too high. I underestimate my own strength these days."

"You are a Sigma-class Terrakinetic and you forget? Sweetie, you need to show a bit more retraint with those who don't have any. Also, they made fun of the sweatter, didn't they?"

"Yep." Sol took a deep breath, taking in the smell of pancakes that filled the air. "Its just a sweater, I don't see what's wrong with it. Then they say its for girls and the like."

"They probably have bad taste," Angie sighed. "You knitted that thing yourself and, as a proud owner of Sol's Sweaters, it must be as cosy for you as it is for me!" She paused a moment and flashed a smile at him. "Besides, pink is a really nice color for you!"

 Soon as Sol heard the table being set up, he turned off the TV and reluctantly stood up  and stretched, standing up to his full 6'10'' height. He slouched forward and walked over to the kitchen table, where Angie set down a plate full of pancakes in front of him before drizzling maple syrup on top.

"Bon appetit, as they say in France," Angie said with a wink and a smile. Sol smiled back and pulled her into an embrace, kissing her gently on the lips before sitting down and enjoying his meal.

Unfortunately, not too long afterward, he could feel something vibraring in his jeans' pocket and playing the Sarah Sisters theme song loudly. With a groan and a mouth full of pancakes, he pulled out his phone and answered, "Hrrow?"

"Hola, amigo, coma estas?"asked the man on the other line. Only one person greets him like that...

"Carlos, that you?" Sol spoke inbetween bites of fluffy cake, knowing full well his wife was glaring at him for talking with his mouth full. "Whats up?"

"Nothing too important. Well, actually, it is: a new psychic arrived in town. Newly formed, just unleashed her powers at one of the Fey Lakes fighting off a Petal Kracken."

 Sol swallowed hard and coughed. "Wait. New?"

 "New as can be. Her name's Samantha, and she just moved in yesterday. Alpha Electrokinetic, too! Haven't had any of those."

 "You're kidding. Did she know about her potential beforehand?"

 "Nope!"

 "So we're dealing with someone who has no idea what she is and how to control that power consciously."

 "Why did you think I called you? It wasn't to get the latest info on the Ariel Manor game, ya know."

 Sol pressed a finger to his forehead as her closed his eyes in thought. "So what you're saying is that you want me to help you teach her how to control her powers, knowing that I was your mentor when you arrived her."

"If I can't handle it on my own in a few days... yes."

 "Interesting!" Sol smiled and finished off the last bit of dinner before wiping his mouth with a napkin. "No problem, then. I'd be happy to help out, especially if she intends on testing herself on whatever strong monster there is afterwards. Just like Jill and Kenny."

A groan came from the other end. "Don't remind me. When I witnessed Jill's 'test', there was enough gore to satisfy a Fatal Battle lover. Besides, Sammy already sooorta did that. You know how hard it is to kill a Petal Kracken, nevermind a Three-Headed one."

"Won't stop her from seeking a bigger challenge," Sol retorted. "Well, call me when you can't handle it, I'll be sure to help out."

"Okay, thanks!"

Click.

Sol put his phone away and turned towards Angie. "Guess we might have an interesting week ahead of us, huh?" he asked her with a smile.

 "Of course!" she replied with a grin, holding her hands together in delight. "We have to meet the new girl in town, don't we?" Her delight quickly turned into shock. "Ack, we need to get gifts for her, don't we?! Oh! Sol, you should start knitting her a sweater, ASAP! And I will buy her enough food to last through an apocolypse! Or maybe I should go and build her a robot? Oooh, what if I somehow found a dragon she could adopt! Oh, the possibilities!"

 "Maybe we should just get her a box of chocolates?" Sol suggested. "Maybe a good action book, too."

 Angie snorted and crossed her arms. "You're just looking for an excuse to push your books onto her, mister! And if we're getting chocolate, it has to be the absolute best! None of that chocolate-flavored nonsense you got me for Valentine's Day!"

 "S-sorry, I forgot to read the label, sweetie... Maybe we should greet her with a game or something?"

 The giant and his angel bounced ideas back and forth for the rest of the night, almost expecting Carlos to call back and tell them where this Sammy lived. But in the back of his mind, Sol wondered...

 Would the newcomer fear him? Make fun of him? Or would she be fine?


 Anxious thoughts and feelings that had to be buried, lest he show his weakness to a possible enemy.