The Supervillain and Me
Page 28
“So your super sight’s really gone?” I had hoped that maybe only his ability to fly would disappear. Anything to keep him feeling like himself.
“Yeah,” Connor said, “along with everything else.”
Here it was. It didn’t take long. The beginning of Connor’s deep, dark depression.
“I feel empty. Millions of people on this earth don’t have superpowers. But no matter how hard I try to reason with myself that if they can do it, I can do it, I can’t help thinking that my entire life is just going to spiral downhill from here.”
“Connor, you’re nineteen. Your life’s just getting started.”
“You don’t understand,” he snapped. “Our mother is dead, our father is lying in a hospital bed unconscious, and I just lost the only thing that remotely made me feel like I was somebody. Now I’m nothing. I have nothing.”
“You have me.” My voice was so low I wasn’t sure he heard it until I caught his eyes soften. “And I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You’re funny and kind and all the girls think you’re really cute. You’re going to be fine, Connor. You don’t need screaming fans to convince you you’re special because I’m telling you you’re special. And if you can’t see that, then I’m sorry because you’re really missing out.”
We sat in silence while Connor twisted his hospital band around and around his wrist. He’d found a red pen and scratched out his last name so it only read Connor. Because that’s who he was now. Not Connor Hamilton. Not Red Comet. Just Connor.
Finally, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Thank you. I really needed that.”
“Anytime.”
Without warning, Connor squeezed his eyes shut and let out a loud moan. I jumped up, thinking the worst—that the surgery went wrong and there were still nanobots working in his brain. I was on the verge of running to find Jackie until Connor grabbed my wrist and said, “I just realized, now that I can’t fly and the transmission in my truck is probably two miles away from blowing up, you’re going to have to teach me how to do normal-people things.” He shuddered. “Like ride the bus.”
The tension drained from my body, and I collapsed into the chair. “Oh, the horror! Now you’ll finally know what it’s like to sit on people’s germs and crumbly food. Now that I think of it, there was a dirty diaper left on one of the seats last week.”
Connor’s voice squeaked. “A what?”
“Relax, I’m only kidding.” I shot him a wink. “There were two dirty diapers.”
Connor threw back his head. “Ugh! Being normal sucks!”
“You’ll manage. I won’t leave you to fend for yourself, you know.” I poked him between the eyes. “First, because you’d never survive. And second, because I’m not that mean. I’m not going to just abandon you, Connor. We’re in this together.”
Connor held out his pinkie. When we were kids and Connor liked to snoop through our parents’ closet in his spare time, he’d always pinkie-promise that we’d never get caught. I was a giant worrywart, but whenever Connor held out his little finger, I knew he’d protect me from trouble. The whole thing seemed silly once I grew up, but back then, Connor used the coveted pinkie promise as a way to show he would always be there for me. And now it was my turn to be there for him.
“Promise?” Connor asked.
I linked my finger with his. “Promise.”
* * *
Thanksgiving came and went. Stores filled with Christmas shoppers and the smell of peppermint coffee. Radio stations played holiday songs around the clock. For a visitor to Morriston, everything appeared relatively normal on the outside.
But on the inside, life was far from normal. The day after Connor lost his powers, Jackie Bolman called in surgeons nationwide to assist in removing the microchips. The procedures were relatively simple. All the injections had been in the arm, not the neck, so destroying the nanotechnology was quick and painless. In about a week, Morriston citizens were back to their usual nonsubmissive, rule-breaking selves.
As for Wallace, the video evidence Hunter filmed was far too incriminating for him to walk away unscathed. He was shipped off to a penitentiary on the other side of the country, cussing and screaming the whole way there—or so we heard. Good riddance.
And then there was my father. It took him almost a day to wake up after his microchip was removed, and another day before he would even speak. First he had been overwhelmed by the guilt of losing my mother, and now, just when he was trying so hard to heal, the guilt of hurting Connor and standing idly by as Morriston was torn to pieces came crashing down as well. Liquor bottles covered our kitchen counter, cigarette butts littered the bathroom floor, and the amount of nightmares he’d developed had eclipsed mine. It quickly became apparent that the whole ordeal had been too much for him. He resigned as mayor, packed his belongings, and checked into an inpatient rehab facility in the middle of the state.
Happy holidays.
Connor visited him a few times. I went once, but I kept finding excuses to prolong my return. Seeing my father so broken was a wound on my heart that was still far too fresh to reopen.
With Dad gone, Connor had appointed himself my new guardian. Too bad it definitely wasn’t me who needed guarding. Dad had granted Connor temporary permission to use his shiny new car, as well as access to his bank account. The first thing Connor purchased with his newfound wealth was two dozen doughnuts and a subscription to Playboy magazine. Superhero or not, Connor would always be Connor.
Sarah now spent almost every day over my house. Rylan and I finally told her about his superpowers, and Connor broke the news about his lack of superpowers. She’d teared up, but her sadness was quickly remedied thanks to Hunter. Red Comet may have been gone, but Sarah had found a new fan fiction project in the form of Fish Boy. I guess the ladies really do love the flippers.
The five of us were like a weird little family now. We had game nights on Thursdays and potluck dinners on Sundays. Iron Phantom’s name had been cleared, and Rylan was quickly climbing the ladder as the city’s most loved super, thanks in part to Isaac, who had joined up with Morriston’s paparazzi and started hounding Iron Phantom for photographs to publish online (he was almost as bad as Sarah). Occasionally Rylan and Hunter would leave us to save the world, something Connor would respond to with a roll of his eyes and a vicious scowl. But he was coping, slowly adjusting to his powerless new life as a civilian. Or he was trying to anyway.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement!” Connor bounded down the steps and landed on the living room couch between me and Rylan. We were in the middle of a Christmas movie marathon, and Connor’s sudden violent invasion sent our bowl of popcorn crashing to the floor.
“You’re finally going to cut your hair?” I asked. Connor’s hair had recently grown so long that he had a constant crick in his neck from flipping it out of his eyes.
My brother ran a hand over his scalp. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” He took a deep breath, stood, and extended his arms out to either side. “After careful deliberation—”
“Was that today’s word of the day?” Rylan interrupted.
Connor’s lip curled. “Maybe. Shut up. It’s my turn to talk.” He cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, after careful deliberation, I have decided that I’m going to quit taking online classes and go to real-people college.”
Snickering, I skeptically asked, “Real-people college?”
“Yep. Like with actual humans. Girls.”
“Girls?”
“Girls,” Connor confirmed with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Lots of pretty girls. I’m majoring in communications … because I don’t really know what else to do, so…”
Rylan asked, “What does someone with a communications degree actually do?”
“Beats the hell outta me.” Connor shrugged and picked up a fistful of popcorn scattered at his feet. I wasn’t surprised when he shoved it all in his mouth. “Communicate with people I guess. Communicate with girls,�
�� he mumbled through the kernels.
I tried to picture my brother on a legitimate college campus, studying in the library with an overpriced cup of coffee on the desk beside him. The vision was difficult to imagine, though Connor did wear glasses now that his super vision reverted to a more human state. Large hipster ones with black frames. He couldn’t see a thing without them, but they made him look somewhat studious, which might fool people for a little while until they got to know the real Connor Hamilton.
Nevertheless, Connor was willing to try almost anything once, and college didn’t seem like a terrible idea. He’d certainly had worse.
“Communications sounds good for you, Connor,” I said. “It’s about selling stories to the public, and if anyone can do that, it’s you. You’ve had more experience than almost anyone.”
“Why, thank you, Abby. I always knew wearing those tights would pay off someday. Speaking of tights…” Connor’s eyes homed in on Rylan’s arm resting along my shoulders, the fingers of his left hand entangled with mine. “Don’t you have to go save the city, lover boy?”
Rylan relaxed into the couch, a yawn escaping his lips. “The city doesn’t need saving right now.”
“Fine,” said Connor. “But just an FYI, Mrs. Richardson over on Union Avenue loses her cat at least once a week. Good luck taking care of that one now that I’m gone.”
“Duly noted.”
Connor smirked as he left the room, but I caught a hint of his real smile. It made his eyes soften just a tad.
“He’s trying,” I said. Maybe one day Connor and Rylan would be real friends—not frenemies. Connor could use another friend.
“Yeah, he is. You’re pretty good with him, you know. He really loves you.”
“Well, he’s not difficult to manage. You just feed him a lot. Make sure he gets plenty of exercise.” I twisted my fingers in my lap. Talking about the l-word in Rylan’s presence tended to make my stomach run off and join the circus.
I thought about telling him so, about finally confessing and letting my heart spill out of my chest, but the quirk in his lips and the warmth in his eyes made me think he already knew.
Hopping off the couch, Rylan offered me his hand. “Let’s go on an adventure.”
“Rylan, I think we’ve been on enough adventures the past few months to last a lifetime.”
He chuckled, agreeing. “Okay, how about a tame adventure? Somewhere not snowing, perhaps?”
The snow was piling up outside on the deck, and the temperature was well below freezing. Warmth would be rather nice. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”
I looked from Rylan’s wiggling fingers to his wide toothy grin. And then I knew. No matter what happened, no matter who tried to hurt us, Rylan would always be there. He saw me in a way I hadn’t realized I wanted to be seen until I met him. Not a hero, not someone with powers, but just a girl. Just Abigail.
Morriston was a city of heroes and villains—those with masks and those without. But in a place where the impossible could become a reality, I knew only one thing for sure.
There was Rylan and there was me. And that was more than enough.
I took his hand.
And we were gone.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This feels a lot like an Oscar speech. With that said, please don’t play me off the stage.
First and foremost, thank you to you, the reader. You picked up this book, and that means more than you will ever know. You rock!
To the incredible team at Swoon Reads: Since I was three years old I have wanted to share stories with the world. You made that three-year-old’s dream come true. I cannot express how grateful I am for all you have done on behalf of this book. Jean and Lauren: Thank you for believing in me. It is an honor to write for you.
To my fantastic editor, Emily Settle: Where would I be without you? You are a genius and an absolute delight. Thank you for picking up this story and helping me shape it into what it is today. If anyone is a superhero, it’s you. But don’t worry—your secret is safe with me.
To the lovely, talented, insightful people I have met on Swoon Reads: Thank you for always brightening my day with your feedback, ratings, and comments. I quite literally could not have done this without you.
My friends at Wattpad: You believed in this book long before anyone else. Your constant kindness kept me going when I couldn’t figure out what to write next, and your support of my characters surpassed anything I could have imagined. Thank you.
To the plethora of chocolate chip cookies I ate while writing to keep my juices flowing: Thanks a million.
Katie, Sierra, and my “twin brother” Sara: Thank you for indulging in my eccentricities throughout our many years of friendship. I would not be the person I am today without you.
Saint Francis de Sales: You, sir, are the real MVP. I hope you aren’t sick of me yet.
Cooper: You are a dog and thus unable to read this, but thank you for being my number one cuddle buddy. You slept on my lap a lot while this book was being written, which made typing difficult, but you always kept my legs warm.
And finally … to my parents: This starts and ends with you. I love you more than you know.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Danielle Banas, a Pittsburgh native, earned a degree in communication from Robert Morris University. After years spent dreaming up characters instead of paying attention in class, Danielle joined the storytelling platform Wattpad, where her work has received millions of views online. When she isn’t writing, she can be found loudly singing show tunes, spouting off Disney World trivia, and snuggling with her puppy. The Supervillain and Me is her debut novel. You can sign up for email updates here.
Thank you for buying this
Feiwel & Friends ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
and info on new releases and other great reads,
sign up for our newsletters.
Or visit us online at
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
For email updates on the author, click here.
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Danielle Banas
A Swoon Reads Book
An imprint of Feiwel and Friends and Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
swoonreads.com
All rights reserved.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
First hardcover edition 2018
eBook edition July 2018
eISBN 9781250154347
ter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share