by Sarah Biglow
He turned to look at me. “Is that your way of saying you care?”
“And here I thought I just oozed caring and affection. I recall something about being annoying.”
His cheeks flushed. “The other night went better than I expected.”
“Not exactly a ringing endorsement, is it?” I said with a laugh.
“I mean, the end of the night was pretty good.”
“That I can agree with.” I closed my eyes and felt the ghost of his lips against mine. I had definitely felt something between us. “What do you think about doing it again sometime?”
“Uh …”
“A date. I mean, not gonna say no to making out either, but a date first would be preferable,” I said when his jaw went slack.
He sighed. “Yeah. That would be good.”
“Well, I picked the location last time. What do you want to do?”
“It’s probably totally lame but we could see a movie or something.”
“A movie sounds nice.” A dark place where everyone else’s attention was already diverted to what was playing on the screen and not with what I imagined doing to him. God, I really need to get laid.
“I … uh, guess we can meet at the theater later tonight? See what looks good.”
“Sure. Just do me a favor. Get checked out by the doctor today. Don’t make me go all protective and make it for you.”
“I promise.”
Chapter Nine
Declan
I had a feeling if I stuck around the library, I’d be sucked into some massive reprimanding by Tina’s mom. I was not in the mood for that. So, I took off at a jog, passing the Sorano’s restaurant and looped around to the back of the high school. Classes would be back in session in just a few weeks and for the first time, I didn’t have to be there. For a moment, a small pang of nostalgia hit me as I recalled our secret meetings in the basement as we tried to figure out how we ended up with super powers. So much had changed in only a few short months.
I left the school behind and was about to cross the street to my house when the rev of an engine caught my attention. I slowed to a walk and turned to see a figure approaching on a motorcycle. I didn’t know anyone in my neighborhood who rode one. In fact, I didn’t know anyone in town who did. The rider stopped beside me and pulled off their helmet to reveal Monica. Her hair was twisted into a bun at the back of her head.
“Monica?” It came out higher pitched than I had meant it to.
She gestured to my arm. “I thought you were supposed to keep that in a sling for a while to let your arm heal.”
I flexed it. “I feel fine.”
“I may only be a nurse but I’m pretty sure that a doctor should make that assessment.”
“Mrs. Boudreau sent you, didn’t she?”
“Who is that?”
Man, I really wished I had Spencer’s power to tell if she was lying.
She gave me a look that I wanted to interpret as innocence. “I was just testing out my new bike and saw you. Besides, I’d kind of hoped you would’ve maybe called me by now.”
I smirked. “So, you don’t give your number to all the guys you stitch up?”
She leaned forward on the bike, her lips quirked into a smile. “I wasn’t even supposed to give it to you. But, what can I say? When a handsome guy comes through my door, sometimes I don’t think straight.”
“That’s sort of creepy, but also flattering,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out.” She settled back onto the seat of the motorcycle.
“It’s okay, really. I was going to call you,” I said. The image of Henry holding my hand the other night flashed through my head, taunting me about the fact I hadn’t thought about Monica in days.
“Oh. Well, if you aren’t busy right now, maybe we can hang out?”
“Sure, for a little while.” Henry’s voice echoed in my head, promising to call the doctor if I didn’t. “Actually, do you think you could help me see that doctor? Just, you know, to get things squared away?”
“I can do that.” She reached into the back compartment of the bike and pulled out a second helmet. “Climb on.”
I took the helmet and settled onto the motorcycle behind her. I tried to make my grip as loose as I could and not think about how closely my body was pressed into hers as she revved the engine and sped off.
I expected to end up back at the hospital, but she took me to a small office complex maybe a mile from the highway on-ramp. She produced a set of keys and ushered me inside. She led me down a dimly lit hallway and into a doctor’s office waiting area.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“The office where I started out as a receptionist. I work at the hospital now, but I’m still in touch with the doctor who runs this place. He has an open-door policy about stopping by.”
She flipped on the lights to reveal a pleasant looking office space. I followed her back to the first exam room on the right. It looked totally normal just like my own doctor’s office.
“Have a seat and take off your shirt,” she said, making no effort to hide the look of hunger in her eyes as I disrobed. Somehow, it felt less flirty than when I had caught her staring at me at the hospital.
She donned gloves and started to examine my shoulder. It was the first time I’d really given it a good look since my hospital visit. I had left the gauze alone and hadn’t even noticed the stitches. She carefully pried the gauze free and poked at the skin on either side of the nearly invisible threads.
“Wait here a minute.” She disappeared from the room, returning a few minutes later with a white-haired male doctor.
He looked at me before turning his attention to Monica. “How long ago was the injury?”
“Three days,” she answered.
“Unusual how quickly the wound has healed.”
“Why’s that unusual?” I interjected.
“Technically the stitches dissolve as you heal. Less scarring that way. But, normally three days after an injury like this, they’d still be fully visible,” Monica replied.
“Cool. Guess I’m just lucky.”
“Have you ever had any similar injuries?” the doctor asked, moving to stand in front of me. Even though I was seated, I still towered over him.
“Nope. This was my first bullet hole.”
He scowled, the age lines in his forehead wrinkled. “I meant any other injuries like open wounds, broken bones.”
“Well I broke my arm once when I was a kid. I don’t remember much about it other than it hurt.”
“What age?”
“Like ten or eleven maybe?”
“I’m assuming you had to wear a cast for a period of time.”
I didn’t like him being all up in my personal space asking questions. I couldn’t pinpoint what bothered me, but I got a bad vibe from him. “A month maybe? Like I said, I don’t remember much about it.”
“Can you show me which arm?”
I held up my right arm and tapped my forearm. “There. I mean, I’ve still got a scar.”
He pressed his calloused fingers to my skin, examining the old scar. I didn’t understand why he was so interested in my past injuries. I thought the point of this little visit was to make sure my gunshot was healing properly. “So, am I good to go with my shoulder?”
He stayed quiet, looking at his clipboard and jotting down notes. “You started puberty at a normal age, I’m assuming?”
“I guess so. What does that have to do with my shoulder?” I replied, growing frustrated. I had better things to do like hang out with Monica.
Monica stepped up and took the clipboard from the doctor. “I’m sure he’s good to go with his shoulder, right?”
The doctor glanced between us. “I’ll sign off on medical clearance,” he said gruffly and left the room.
When we were alone, Monica shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I know you’re different Declan. I’m guessing when your ability manifested it ca
used some unintended changes to your body. Like rapid healing. And given you suffered a similarly serious injury before your powers manifested and it took a normal length of time to heal versus now, I suspect we’ve just discovered a side effect to your power. We should do a few more tests to confirm.”
“Are you going to mention this to your doctor friend?”
She closed the distance between us. “I have to. We have a contract with Kirkpatrick Industries. Besides, they’re going to want an explanation for how you recovered so quickly.”
“Can we maybe do those tests some other time? I thought we were going to hang out.”
She chewed her lower lip, “Want to learn how to ride a motorcycle?”
I pulled my shirt back on and followed her back to the parking lot. She handed me the helmet and gestured for me to get on. She turned the key in the ignition and the bike rumbled to life beneath me. I felt the vibrations from the motor reverberate through my whole frame.
“Now, the throttle is up here,” she said gesturing to the handles.
“What about the brakes?”
She pointed to a brake on one handle and then down to my foot. “You’ve got a handbrake and one down there. Why don’t you try riding here in the parking lot first to get used to it?”
I settled into the seat and flipped up the kickstand with my foot. She gave me a thumbs up as I pulled on the throttle, shooting forward faster than I’d intended. I eased up and the bike responded in kind, almost petering out. I relaxed my grip and took a deep breath to get the nerves to go away. I could ride a normal bicycle and drive a car. I could handle this.
“You’re doing great,” she called as I started to do slow laps around the empty lot. “You can lean into the turns. Make them a little tighter.”
I took her suggestion and leaned into my next turn. The bike glided in a smaller arc. It felt freeing as I gained more confidence. I let out a whoop of excitement as I sped past her again, squeezing the throttle hard to speed forward. I banked into another turn before returning to where Monica stood. “That was pretty awesome.”
“You looked comfortable on it.”
I liked the sense of control it gave me. “You are kind of the last person I’d expect to have one of these things.”
She climbed on behind me, looping her arms around my torso. “Because I’m a nurse? You’ve got a lot to learn about me,” she whispered in my ear.
We zipped back and forth in the parking lot for a while until I was confident that I could maneuver the bike with someone on the back of it. I eased it to a halt gently and turned back to look at her. “Thanks for doing this.”
“It was a nice way to spend an afternoon.”
I looked up to see the sun was already making its descent toward the horizon. How had I lost track of the time? We couldn’t have been out here that long, could we? “What time is it?”
“It’s almost five o’clock.”
“No, that can’t be right.” What time had I told Henry I’d meet him at the theater?
She held up her phone for me to see. We’d spent hours out here and it had felt like only minutes. “I uh, I should get back to town. I have something to do tonight.”
“Right. Well, I think you are road ready. Just maybe don’t go speeding down Main Street.”
I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road that would take us back to the center of town. I just had to hope I wasn’t late for my date with Henry.
Chapter Ten
Henry
It worried me that Declan was late. Contrary to his statements about how he thought our first date had gone, I still doubted this would actually work. He was still very much uncomfortable with being out and I still wasn’t past the whole “burning my exes” thing. So, I stood outside the theater alone as the first group of evening shows started. I had already sent him a text to let him know I was there. I wasn’t going to be that guy who pestered his date with clingy messages demanding to know where said date was.
“Hey, I’m here,” he called and rounded the side of the building.
“I had started to think I was being stood up,” I said.
“Sorry. I lost track of time.”
I waved him inside to the ticket counter. He didn’t care which movie we saw and so I picked one I had already seen; an indie romantic comedy. I was a sucker for cheesy romance. He made a beeline for the concession stand and ordered a large popcorn and two drinks.
“So, you’re okay with seeing this one. Really?” I probed as we found seats near the back of a sporadically filled theater.
“Yeah. I kind of figured we weren’t really coming for the show,” he said.
“Good to know.” I tugged the tub of popcorn out of his hand and dug my hand in. “So, what were you doing that made you late?”
“Uh, I was getting checked out by the doctor.” The lights weren’t dim enough to hide his blush.
“Well I’m glad I didn’t have to make an appointment for you.”
“I saw Monica again, too. She was there with the doctor. She rides a motorcycle.”
“Of course, she does,” I muttered.
“We hung out and she taught me how to ride it.”
“So, you called her then?”
“No. She showed up at my house.”
I bristled at the stalker vibe his words implied. “Right. Because that’s not weird or anything. Isn’t it unethical for her to be seeing you outside of a medical setting like that?”
“You were the one who said she was flirting with me.”
“And you thought that meant I wanted you to go riding off into the sunset with her?”
The lights began to dim around us. “She knows about what I can do, my powers. And she’s not freaked out by it,” he finally admitted.
“Is that the only reason you agreed to go out with me the other night? Because you figured I knew your secret identity so you didn’t have to hide it?”
“Kind of,” he answered.
Heat began to build just below my skin. I’d worked so hard to control my powers and not let my emotions get the better of me. But his words knocked my progress back. “And now someone comes along who can do that for you without having powers to make you feel normal? You got a better deal so you’re bailing?” I argued.
A couple of women a few rows in front of us turned and shushed me. I glared at them. They should mind their own damn business.
“Whoa, I never said anything like that. I’m here aren’t I?”
“So, you aren’t a complete asshole,” I muttered.
“Look, I’m sorry me having fun without you turns you into a whiny bitch.”
“Can you take this outside?” one of the women in front of us hissed.
Maybe it was better we didn’t do this here. I didn’t give Declan a chance to protest scooping up the popcorn and my drink, I marched out into the lobby. It was sparsely populated—much like the theater. So at least, we wouldn’t have much of an audience. “I don’t give a fuck if you had fun riding a motorcycle. I care that you seem to be interested in pursuing your teacher.”
“When did I ever say I was pursuing her?” he argued back. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Besides, you knew from the start how I feel about girls.”
“So, what, this is just rubbing it in my face that you can get whoever you want? Male or female?”
“You know, I wasn’t actually thinking about you at all,” he snapped.
“That’s obvious. You know what, why don’t you let me know when you’ve sorted your shit out.” I shoved the popcorn tub into his hands and stormed off.
Part of me hoped he’d come after me, tell me I had it all wrong and he was choosing me. But life isn’t a movie. That doesn’t happen to people like me. I stalked out of the theater, ignoring the surprised looks from the employees as I marched to the parking lot and jammed the key into the ignition. I needed a place to let off some steam. Literally. The leather on my steering wheel smoldered at my touch as my anger got the better of me. I had t
o take several slow breaths to calm down enough to drive.
I ended up in the woods on the outskirts of town. A while ago I had found a rundown, abandoned factory building that no one frequented. It was all concrete and cinder block with no wood in sight. I’d spent years stripping out the wires so I didn’t accidentally set any electrical fires. I didn’t need the police calling me an arsonist. I climbed through the shell of the back window—the glass had long been blasted away by errant fireballs. It was quiet inside as I moved to stand in the middle of the room.
Sunset was still a little while away and the natural light filtered through the windows, giving me more than enough light to see by. It would also help obscure what I was doing at least for a little while. I let the anger build up again, replaying the argument in my head. Tapping into the emotion my fingers burned bright blue as the flames jumped out of my pores and into my waiting palms. They rippled in the slight draft of the old building. I let them burn bright before forcing the two flames into one between my hands, hurling it at a nearby wall. The concrete hissed as the fireball made contact, leaving behind scorch marks.
“Stupid asshole,” I spat and hurled another fireball at the same spot until it was blackened.
My breath came in shallow gasps with the exertion, but I could still feel more pent-up anger. This time not at Declan, but at myself. For thinking he’d be different, for having to keep secrets from him and for too many other things to list. My flames turned orange as my anger turned inward and the flames shot into the air like a blowtorch.
“Somebody’s pissed you off,” a voice called from the only operational doorway in the place.
Not many people knew I came here to let off steam. I’d found this place when I was still learning to control my powers and I’d kept it a closely guarded secret. But the thin rail of a man standing in the doorway was one of the few people I’d let in on my secret.
“I’m really not in the mood for company, Reese,” I muttered, cupping my hands around a vibrant blue spark.
