“Doesn’t matter—it still happened.” Curtis turns to me and says, “I don’t mean to offend you, son, but you put our Riley here in a difficult position. How can he fight villains in the field if he’s got to worry about the one on his team?”
I keep my fists clenched under the table as electricity surges in my palms. Must. Not. Zap. Douchebag. I open my mouth to speak, but then Zach beats me to it.
He gets to his feet and leans forward, pressing his palms into the table. “Damien’s our friend and you don’t even know him, so just shut up! You’re not our dad and you never will be, so stop acting like it!” He turns and runs off to his room in a fit of drama, slamming the door behind him.
He may have picked that up from Amelia.
“Zach!” their mom shouts. She gets up to go after him.
Curtis shakes his head at me, like this is all my doing.
And I think maybe Mom’s right. Maybe I do always have to cause a scene.
“The other heroes on our team might not have zapped anybody,” I tell Curtis, “but they didn’t go after the bad guy, either. Two of them wouldn’t even come in the building to save those kids. And I might be a half villain”—and I might even be trouble—“but at least I’m not a coward.”
And at least I know that, no matter what, I’ve always got Riley’s back.
Chapter 4
“WELL,” SARAH SAYS, ADJUSTING her glasses and pushing them farther up the bridge of her nose, “Curtis has a point—you did put Riley in a difficult position.”
I can’t believe her. “Sarah. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side.” She pauses to peer into the store window at Masquerade, the upscale cape shop in the mall. It’s literally a store that sells only capes. The one in the window is red velvet with white fur trim and is on a manikin dressed like Santa. I don’t even want to know who would be lame enough to buy that. The store, like the rest of the mall, is decked out for Christmas with evergreen garlands, wreathes, and giant Christmas trees overloaded with ornaments. Sarah looks like she’s thinking about going in, but then thankfully changes her mind and keeps walking. “But that doesn’t make what Curtis said not true. Riley was supposed to stop you. In theory. That means he broke a League rule.”
As if Riley would ever do that. At least, not on purpose. “Even if he could have stopped me”—which I’m pretty sure he couldn’t—“there wasn’t time. It’s a stupid rule.”
“But he was still supposed to stop you. Whether he wanted to or not.”
“Okay, but I didn’t know that.” I stuff my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt.
“You broke the League rules, Damien. And you almost killed a superhero.”
She should talk. She’s the one who’s always urging me to shoot first and ask questions later. Or at least she was, before she went crazy this fall and almost blew up a whole generation of supervillains. “I thought he was a murderer. And I didn’t almost kill him. Geez.”
“What if he’d had a weak heart?”
“A kidnapper with a weak heart? That would be his fault for choosing such a hazardous profession. And I thought you of all people would understand why I did it.”
“I do understand, and that’s why I know you shouldn’t have done it.” She stops in front of a bookstore that sells mostly movies and games, pausing just long enough for us to get jostled by some overly aggressive shoppers before deciding to go inside. One of them glances back at us, obviously recognizing me, but he keeps moving. Sarah chews her lip. “Maybe you should join my rehabilitation program.”
She means the self-imposed one she made for herself after the incident at Vilmore. “Wow, could I? I didn’t realize you were accepting new members.”
“We could use some more volunteers at the retirement home,” she says, leading me over to a wall of DVDs and not catching my sarcasm. “Though it would make more sense for you to work at one for superheroes instead of villains.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that. I don’t need rehabilitation, and neither do you.”
“Maybe not anymore. Oh!” Her eyes light up, and she reaches out and grabs a boxed set of DVDs off the wall. “This would be perfect for Riley.”
It’s a documentary. On the history of Golden City.
Right.
“Uh, Sarah...”
“We saw part of it on TV, but we couldn’t watch the whole thing because we were going to the movies, and I know he was really disappointed about not getting to see the rest.”
“Sure, but... You can’t get him that.”
She scrunches up her face. “But it’s in my price range.”
“Get him something cheaper. The more you save on him, the more you can spend on me.”
“I already got your present. And you know how he loves historical documentaries. Even the boring ones.”
Especially the boring ones. “You think it’s boring?”
“It’s really slow. And pretentious. That’s the only reason it won any awards.”
“You know, on second thought, you’re right. It is perfect for him.” And even more perfect will be rubbing it in his face that he was wrong and I was right.
Sarah grins and heads over toward the line for the checkout stand, which is so long, it wraps partway around the store. “That’s two presents down. No, wait, three. I forgot I got Heraldo that giant rawhide bone. I was going to wait to give it to him until Christmas, but he found it in my closet and chewed the wrapping paper off already.” She hesitates, counting out the number of people she still needs to buy gifts for. “I only have four to go, unless... Do you think I should get Kat something?”
Do I think she should get something for my girlfriend who hates her guts and who actually refused to work with someone at school whose name was Sara-with-no-h because it was too much of a reminder? Yeah, I’m going to have to mull that over for a while.
“What did you get her?” Sarah asks.
A still from one of her favorite movies, Vampire Aliens Attack. It’s from the best part, when the vampire aliens face off against the werewolves trying to defend the earth. But I don’t tell Sarah that because I don’t need her getting any ideas. “Listen, Sarah. About Kat.”
“Her grandparents want her to call more. You should tell her that. I emailed her about it, but she didn’t respond.”
Kat’s grandparents happen to live at the supervillain retirement home Sarah volunteers at. Since finding that out, she’s made it her mission in life to become BFFs with them. Which has not improved the “Kat wants to kill her” situation. “I don’t know how you haven’t noticed this, but you and Kat? Not friends. Not even a little.”
“Not yet. She’s going to come around. Eventually. And a Christmas present from me might help that. As a sign of goodwill.”
“It won’t. Kat doesn’t want to be friends with you.” Kat’s never been crazy about Sarah, since Sarah and I went out for, like, two seconds while me and Kat weren’t together. And then Sarah broke into Kat’s dad’s company this fall—while she was messed up from the effects of her personality enhancer going wonky—on her mission to entrap villains, who she was sure were all criminals. Then there was Homecoming, where she actually shot Kat with a homemade shockwave gun and sent her to the ER. And there was the incident at Vilmore, where she almost destroyed a generation of villains and also tried to kill me, and I can’t say any of that went over well with my supervillain girlfriend. And even though I’ve told Kat that Sarah wasn’t herself when she did any of that, I can still see why Kat can’t just shrug it off and pretend it never happened. She doesn’t really know Sarah—not the real Sarah—and Sarah’s desperate attempts to make it up to her and become her bestest friend have only made it worse.
“But,” Sarah says, “that’s only because she thinks I hate supervillains, and I don’t.”
“That’s a reason. I wouldn’t say it’s the only one.”
“I’m really improving on my open-mindedness, so if something happens and I go crazy again
, I won’t try to hurt any villains. Or you.”
“Sarah, that’s not going to happen.” The line moves forward, like, an inch. I check the time on my phone. “It was my fault, and I’ve got control of my lightning power now.”
The woman in front of us kind of glances over her shoulder when I say that. I see the moment of recognition in her eyes when she sees who I am, though she tries to hide it. She pretends she’s being super casual as she hurries to get out her phone and starts texting someone.
“It was my invention,” Sarah says. “And my biases about justice. Maybe you won’t trigger a malfunction again, but something else might, and I have to be ready for it. I’m really trying to change, and to make up for what I did.”
“You don’t need to change. Or to make up for anything.”
“But if I did, maybe Kat wouldn’t hate me.”
“You can’t make someone like you, Sarah. And trying to force it just makes it worse. You know that.”
The lady in front of us glances back again, still texting like crazy. Then the guy who’s sort of in front of her, sort of to the side, notices she’s focused really intently on something and looks over. His mouth actually drops open and he nudges his wife and his teenage daughter, jerking his head at me. Then they all stare.
I flash them my most cheerful smile, even though people pointing and staring at me wherever I go is getting pretty old. But at least it pays well. “Pictures are five dollars. Ten if you want to be in it, too.” Twenty if they want me to make my hands go all electric, but it’s too crowded in here to offer that one.
The parents turn around, looking kind of embarrassed, though their daughter’s eyes light up. Offering up photo prices gets some curious looks from other people nearby, until they recognize me, and then I can see them considering it.
“Special holiday discount,” I tell them, even though those are my usual prices.
Sarah rolls her eyes at me as a crowd starts to gather. People actually step out of the line to come get a picture with the Crimson Flash’s infamous half-villain son. Though I’m not sure if all of them realize who I am yet, just that there’s a celebrity in the store.
There’s a big gap between Sarah and the rest of the line now. What would have been at least a half-hour wait is probably down to only ten minutes. She looks over at me, and I gesture for her to get going. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay,” she says. “But if I don’t see you, you’ll be at my demonstration, right? I need a volunteer from the audience, and if you can’t do it, I need time to figure out someone else.”
Sarah’s unleashing—I mean, unveiling—a new invention on the unsuspecting senior citizens at the retirement home, now that she’s deemed herself “rehabilitated” and is working on projects again. I think I’d make a pretty obvious plant, what with being under eighty, but I don’t have time to argue about it right now, since there’s a growing crowd of people anxious to take pictures of me. And even though I’d really like to double-check that this new invention of hers isn’t the exploding type, I just nod and say, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
I swivel back and forth in Zach’s desk chair, being careful not to knock over the stack of paperbacks on the floor. They’re all fantasy and sci-fi novels. Some are new, and some have yellowed pages and bent spines, but pretty much all of them are based on TV shows and video games.
“It’s not fair.” Zach’s sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He’s looking at his mom’s Facebook page, at a picture she posted earlier of her and Curtis eating pizza during her lunch break. It’s a cutesy double selfie that practically screams, Look how in love we are! Zach’s mom is grinning, squished up close with Curtis, who has a glob of tomato sauce on his nose that he either doesn’t notice, or thinks is funny somehow. Ugh.
“Moms shouldn’t date,” I tell Zach. “And if they do... it shouldn’t be with that guy.”
“The other day, she said she had to run to the store. But she had this big smile on her face, like she was looking forward to it. And she was gone for hours. I know she was meeting Curtis.”
Riley appears in the doorway, scowling at me with his arms folded. “You’re sure Sarah said it was boring?”
I told him about her getting him the same DVD set earlier and that he’d better step it up. “Boring and pretentious. Don’t forget that.”
“But...” He sighs and stalks off to his room across the hall. Then I hear him typing at his computer, presumably shopping for Sarah’s new Christmas present.
Zach turns off the screen to his phone, like he can’t even look at his mom being happy with Curtis anymore. “He was supposed to be our dad’s best friend. And best friends don’t...”
“Sleep with their dead best friend’s wife?”
He nods. “She says it’s just casual, but it’s more than that. Everyone can tell. Amelia even told me I had to bring her to their wedding. Their wedding! They’d better not get married.” He makes a face.
“Or have another kid.”
“What?” A look of pure horror washes over him.
Oops. “Er, I mean, I’m sure they won’t do that.” Just because my mom did doesn’t mean they will.
“Curtis doesn’t have any kids. And me and Riley only have a few years before we’re out of school.”
“Listen, Zach, just because they could get married and have a kid doesn’t mean they will. Sure, it seems like things are going well now, but Curtis is a douchebag. Your mom’s going to see that eventually. You said she hasn’t dated since your dad died, right? So she’s just using him to test the waters. It’s going to get old.” Hopefully.
He perks up. “You think so?”
Riley appears in the doorway again. “What do you think about a soldering iron? Sarah said she could use a new one.”
“God, Perkins. Could you be any more hopeless?”
“Go away,” Zach says. “Damien’s hanging out with me. He was just about to tell me something important.”
Riley glares at me, ignoring his brother. “It’s a really nice soldering iron. It’s a great gift.”
“Yeah, for someone who never wants to get in her pants.”
His face turns bright red and he looks away. “It’s thoughtful. Sarah will appreciate it.”
I roll my eyes at him, then tell a disappointed Zach that I’ll be back in a few minutes. I push past Riley and cross the hall to his room, sitting down at his computer and closing all the tabs he has open for stupid crap like low-level robotics kits and a desk organizer.
He follows me, shutting the door behind him and then coming to peer over my shoulder at the computer screen. “The soldering iron is practical, plus I know she needs a new one. She’ll use it all the time.”
“It’s too practical.”
“You got her socks.”
“Fun socks. Socks she’ll actually like. And I only got her those so I wouldn’t show you up.”
“Fine. I won’t get her the soldering iron.”
“And no desk organizers.” I swivel around and give him an accusing look.
He holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. Let me think for a minute.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, his forehead wrinkling in thought.
I click through a few more tabs and notice his email is open. There’s a message from the League, labeled IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR SCHOLARSHIP. I swallow. “Hey, Perkins... About what Curtis said the other night.”
“He was being a jerk.”
“Yeah, no kidding. But what did he mean about you having some scholarship?”
“It’s from the League. I got it because of...” He takes a deep breath. “The League gives out scholarships to kids who have a parent who died in service to the city. So...” He waves his hand, trying to sum it up.
“So, because your dad died, they’re paying for you to go to Heroesworth.”
“Pretty much.”
“And now? Curtis said you were on probation.” Because Riley supposedly broke one of their stupid rules.<
br />
He stares at the floor, not looking at me. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Except that if you lose it, you can’t go to school anymore, right?” How am I supposed to get through another year and a half of Heroesworth if he’s not there and I only have idiotic douchebags to work with?
“That’s not going to happen. I’m only on probation. As long as I keep my grades up, and as long as I don’t break any more rules, I should be fine.”
“Except you’re not the one who broke a rule.” He shouldn’t be punished for what I did.
“According to the League, not stopping you counts.”
“And you’re okay with that? You think that makes any sense?”
“We were the only ones there. It’s not like anybody really knows whether I could have stopped you or not.”
“Uh, yeah, they do.” I hold up my hand, making electricity wash over it in waves for a second. Riley can turn invisible. I can zap things. And he was somehow supposed to stop me? “The League really expects you to... what? Take a shot of lightning to the head to protect some murderer?”
Riley scowls. “He wasn’t a murderer. That’s the whole point. We were wrong about him. Heroes out in the field could be wrong about the criminals they’re chasing, too. And they’re—we’re—not supposed to let other heroes hurt unarmed citizens. That rule is there to protect people.”
“From League members.” Because even they know that signing some stupid piece of paper doesn’t really mean they can be trusted.
“Everyone makes mistakes. And you know what happened to Sarah, and she would never hurt anyone.”
I don’t agree with that, but I get what he’s saying. “That wasn’t her mistake. It was mine.” If I hadn’t accidentally zapped her stupid personality enhancer, she never would have gone on some crazy villain-hating spree. “Just like this was.”
Riley rolls his eyes at me. “Come on, X. Don’t be like that. You didn’t know.”
But even if I had, that wouldn’t have changed anything. “And what if I screw up again and get you in more trouble?”
The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) Page 5
