The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3)

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  “Our mission,” Riley tells the class, “was to stake out the Golden City Museum, to check for any weak points in security before the new exhibit goes up. But while we were there, we sort of noticed a suspicious guy trying to do the same thing.”

  “Don’t be modest,” Mrs. Deeds says. “Mason already told me what you did in his report.”

  Riley glances down at his feet, then back up again. “I might have noticed the guy first. And I was the one who apprehended him when he ran. After he realized we were onto him, I mean. He went tearing through the museum, pushing people out of his way. He looked like he was heading for the main entrance, but I took a chance that he was just trying to throw us off, turned invisible, and took a shortcut to the side entrance that’s past the Egyptian wing.”

  A couple people nod. Everyone is watching him tell this story, totally entranced.

  “I got there first, and when he came running for the door, I tackled him to the ground. Security wasn’t too far behind him, so I didn’t have to detain him long.”

  Mrs. Deeds is practically giddy with delight over one of her students doing something so supposedly awesome. She looks like it’s all she can do not to hop up and down. “And?”

  “And it turned out he was an art thief the museum had been trying to catch for months. But it’s not like I knew that or anything.”

  “Still, you caught him without much trouble, despite how well he’d eluded the authorities before. And,” she adds, addressing the whole class, “that’s why I’m nominating Riley Perkins for the Heroesworth Award for Bravery in the Field. You’ll be attending the ceremony at the Heroes’ Gala next month.”

  Seriously? I glance over at Riley. His mouth is gaping open, and he looks like people do in game shows when they find out they just won a fabulous new car. Mason beams at him, Amelia’s already not-so-secretly texting Zach about it, and a bunch of people start clapping.

  “Wow,” Riley says, after the applause dies down. “I’ve never been nominated for anything before.”

  “You deserve it,” Mrs. Deeds tells him. Then, to everyone else, she says, “It’s not every day that a mission turns out so successful, and I don’t expect that sort of thing to happen every time. But I do want you all to note that it was Riley’s determination to go above and beyond what was required of him that brought about that success. And now...” She looks over at me, the smile on her face wilting, like she just got a whiff of fresh dog poop. “Let’s hear a firsthand account of the class’s least successful mission.”

  “What?” She can’t be serious.

  She gets this stern look on her face. “Didn’t you read the syllabus? This is what we do after each mission, so the whole class can learn from each other’s experiences. Why don’t you start by giving us an overview of your goal yesterday, and then you can tell us where you think you went wrong.”

  Shouldn’t Amelia be up here for this? I’m not the one who screwed everything up. The one time it’s not my fault and I still have to answer for it. “We were checking out a laundromat that was supposed to be a front for the Red Bandit. It wasn’t.” I shrug.

  “And?”

  And I really want to zap pretty much everyone in the room right now. Even Riley, who’s supposed to be my friend, because he’s still looking all starry-eyed about getting nominated for a useless award. A nomination he got without me, because apparently he and Mason make a better team.

  But I don’t say any of that, because that would be pretty stupid. “And it really doesn’t matter what else happened because nobody got hurt and we’re still here and everything.”

  Mrs. Deeds purses her lips and shakes her head. “You got captured by supervillains and compromised your mission. Do you want to tell us why that was?”

  Um, no? Why would I ever want to tell them that? “Obviously I wanted to fail, so I’d have something to work for the rest of the semester. And to make Perkins here look good, of course.”

  Mrs. Deeds scowls at me. “From what I understand, these were villains you knew. Because you’re half villain yourself.”

  A murmur runs through the class as people start whispering about that and giving me dirty looks, as if she just said I sold out the entire school instead of that I maybe happened to know some people.

  Riley’s paying attention now, watching me.

  “Okay, fine. You got me. It was all a set up. They were going to help me sell Amelia on the black market, but it turned out there weren’t any buyers, so they ‘let us go.’” I make exaggerated finger quotes on that last part.

  “Hey!” Amelia says, glaring at me.

  “But I can say with absolute certainty that it’s not a front for the Red Bandit. So I think that was a pretty successful mission.”

  Mrs. Deeds is obviously not impressed. She looks back and forth from me to Riley, probably wondering how the two of us ever worked together. Or maybe like she gets why Riley has a new partner. “Is that why you didn’t use your ability”—her lip curls on the word—“to stop these villains when they pointed weapons at the two of you? Because you knew them? We all know you didn’t hesitate to use your power on that unarmed superhero last semester, so I find it strange that you refused to do so in this situation.”

  “You mean why didn’t I use my lightning to fry some guys who had their fingers on the triggers?” I absently hold up a hand and let some electricity wash over it. I don’t even think about it until some people in the audience gasp, and I notice that everyone looks pretty horrified. Everyone except Riley and Amelia. And Mason, which just makes me hate him more, because it’s like he doesn’t think he’s in any danger from me. Even though I obviously have a dangerous power and he stole my partner and I hate his guts.

  I make my lightning go away, though the class doesn’t stop looking horrified. “That was a free sample,” I tell them. “I normally charge admission for the lightning show. If anyone wants to see more or get their picture taken—for a small fee, of course—I’ll be available after class.”

  “No, you won’t.” Mrs. Deeds has her arms folded across her chest and this really harsh expression on her face. Which really undermines the email she sent out at the beginning of the semester, about how she was so happy to be working with all of us. “You’re reporting to the office. Now.” She grabs a notepad from her desk and writes something down—presumably a message about how awful I’ve been, and that I’ve been conspiring with villains to sell my sister on the black market. She tears it off and starts to hold it out. But then she pulls her hand back, like she just realized she doesn’t want to make contact with me. Like I might zap her or something.

  Riley comes to her rescue, snatching the paper from her and saying, “I’ll make sure he gets there.” Then he practically pushes me out into the hall.

  I shove him off me as soon as we’re out of the room. “You’ll make sure I get there? What the hell was that?”

  “I was trying to help you. Before you made it any worse.” He glances up and down the hall, which is empty, since it’s the middle of third period. “Did you really know those villains?”

  I hate that he’s even asking me that. “Their leader knew my mom.” I also hate that I’m lying to him. Sort of. And I don’t want to see the doubt in his eyes as he considers that statement, so I stare at a student-made mural on the wall. It’s of a superhero and a government official—probably the mayor—both smiling and each holding one end of a giant golden key to the city. Propaganda at its best.

  “And you couldn’t have just told Mrs. Deeds that?” Riley asks. He sounds kind of pissed at me. Or maybe just worried.

  “Amelia was the one who screwed up and got us caught. But you didn’t see Mrs. Deeds calling her up to be humiliated about it. She’d rather blame the half villain.”

  “You didn’t have to give her a reason to.” He reads the note, then hands it to me. “She’s recommending you for suspension.”

  “Wow. Good thing you’re not associated with me anymore, right?”

  He gives me t
his disgusted look. “You could get kicked out again, X. If you keep this up.”

  If I don’t play along and let everyone treat me like I’m a criminal, he means. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re catching bad guys and winning awards.”

  “It was just a nomination.”

  “Yeah, but think about it. If I’d done what you did, I wouldn’t be getting anything for it. And if you were still partnered up with me instead of Mason, you wouldn’t have gotten anything for it, either.”

  He opens his mouth to argue, then doesn’t. “Okay, maybe that’s true. And it sucks if it is. But we still have almost a year and a half left here. Can’t you just... not push people so much? And it wouldn’t kill you to play by the rules for a while. Just until we graduate.”

  “And then what? I don’t need a degree from Heroesworth to patrol the streets with Sarah. Which we both know is about the only hero work I’ll ever be qualified for.” And Sarah doesn’t have an H, either, so she won’t be joining the League like everybody else. Even if she really wants to.

  Not that Kat would be okay with me choosing that particular career option.

  “Actually,” Riley says, absently scratching the side of his face and not looking at me, “Sarah will be in college then. So—”

  “So it’s just going to be me.”

  Riley shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say anything.

  Which is all the answer I need.

  Chapter 12

  I GET SENT HOME for the rest of the day. Mrs. Deeds wanted me to get suspended—she recommended several days in her note—but the dean rolled his eyes and said she was overreacting. Though not overreacting enough for him to send me back to class.

  I had to call Gordon, and he had to come pick me up, and now I’m sitting in the car with him in the school parking lot. He took off work to come get me, after he already had to drop me off today.

  He presses his hands into the steering wheel, even though he’s not driving yet—though he did at least turn the car on so we don’t freeze to death this time—and sighs.

  I fold my arms and slump down in my seat. “If you’re going to lecture me about how stupid that was, you might want to call Riley first and compare notes, so you don’t have any overlap.”

  “You could have just told her what happened.”

  “See, that’s exactly why I told you to talk to Riley. He said the same thing.”

  Gordon tilts his head a little and gives me this look, like the fact that he and Riley both told me this should mean something. “Damien. Debriefing is an important part of the process. How is anyone supposed to trust you if you don’t tell the truth?”

  I glare at him. “Mrs. Deeds read my report, and Amelia’s. She already knew what happened. She just wanted to try and humiliate me in front of everyone. Amelia made mistakes and got us caught, but Mrs. Deeds didn’t call her up to talk about it. She wanted to make the half villain look stupid, even though I’m the one who got us out of it. So, no, I couldn’t just play along and tell the truth, because I couldn’t give her the satisfaction.”

  “So you thought it was better to tell her you were working with the bad guys?”

  I shrug. “She’d decided she wasn’t going to trust me before she brought me up there. She didn’t respect me, so why should I respect her?”

  Gordon thinks about that. “I knew going to Heroesworth would be hard for you.” He looks over at me, concern on his face. “But I thought it would be the other kids who wouldn’t accept you.”

  “Yeah, you were totally off base with that. I have so many friends, I can’t even remember all their names. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be voted most popular for the yearbook.”

  “Damien.”

  “What?”

  He shakes his head. “I was trying to say I never expected that kind of behavior from your teachers. They’re supposed to be adults.”

  “Adults who work in a school that’s supposed to be all hero. They can be letterist all they want and no one will notice.”

  He gives me a long look, like he’s considering how much truth to that there is. I think he’s going to try and tell me that I must have it wrong, that I’ve just misidentified all the ways my supportive superhero teachers have tried to help me. So when he opens his mouth to say something, I cut him off.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I use my powers to stop someone I was told kidnaps and murders kids, and I end up on the news like it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Riley uses his power to catch someone who just happens to look suspicious, and he’s getting a freaking award.”

  “He’s getting an award?”

  I shrug with one shoulder. “He was nominated. Because I wasn’t there. I’m sure he’ll win.” Just as long as none of the judges see him hanging out with me or anything.

  Gordon twists up his eyebrows. “Riley turns invisible. He doesn’t hurt anyone. Him using his power is completely different from you using yours.” His gaze falls to my high-voltage shirt, and he gets this worried look, like he thinks I really might not understand.

  “They might be different, but that doesn’t make it fair. Riley didn’t have to try and catch that guy. It wasn’t part of his assignment. But he did what he thought was right, just like I did.”

  “He didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “He could have. He was invisible, and he tackled some guy. What if him being invisible, like, caught the guy off guard so much that he slipped and hit his head? He could have gotten seriously hurt, or maybe died or something. And that’s ignoring the fact that Riley could have gotten hurt, too. But all the bad guy did was steal art. And before you say anything, I know that stealing is a crime. But stealing some paintings isn’t worse than torturing and murdering innocent kids. You get that, right?”

  “Damien, that’s not—”

  “The point? It is. Because if Riley had accidentally hurt that guy while using his power, he would have still been a hero for it. But I use my lightning just enough to stop some murderer—who was fine, by the way—and I’m public enemy number one. And yeah, he wasn’t a real murderer, but I had every reason to believe he was, and all I did was take him down. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t hurting him—not that badly, I mean. But I could have. You don’t think I wanted to? If he really was a killer, then he would have deserved whatever he got from me. But I held back. And I know using my power at all was against the rules. But what I did and what Riley did weren’t all that different.”

  We’re both quiet for a while. Eventually, Gordon says, “Have you—”

  “The last twenty-four hours have really sucked, okay? So let’s just drop it. You can lecture me about how crazy you think I am tomorrow.” Or maybe the next day. Or next week. Or preferably never.

  “I was just going to ask if you’ve had lunch yet.”

  Oh. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Okay. Get out of the car.”

  “What?”

  “Come on.” He unbuckles his seat belt and opens his door. “I took off work, you’re out of school, and we have all afternoon to spend together. That doesn’t happen very often. The roads are clear, and if you don’t want lunch, then we can at least practice driving.”

  “You want me to drive? I mean, I’m supposed to go home and think about what I’ve done or something. I thought you’d be mad, not want to spend time with me.”

  He looks almost hurt by that. “What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault. And what happened today... Maybe you could have handled it better, but it wasn’t right for your teacher to interrogate you like that. I’m glad you stood up for yourself. And of course I want to spend time with you.”

  We drive for a while and then end up getting lunch anyway, because I lied about not being hungry. We go to the same diner I was at with Riley and Sarah before. Because it’s apparently Gordon’s favorite restaurant. Of course it is. Though they do have a sandwich named after him, and not just because he’s kind of famous, but because
he used to order it so often when he’d come here for lunch, back before he even had a TV show. Which I have to admit is kind of cool, even though I’d rather eat dirty socks than ever order a sandwich named after my dad.

  “Amelia was so afraid of the vacuum cleaner when she was little.” Gordon laughs good naturedly and takes a bite of himself—a toasted turkey sandwich with some kind of special sauce—while he reminisces. “At first she would just run and hide, but then she decided to stand up for herself and would scream at it whenever we turned it on.”

  “That’s so hilarious,” I tell him, setting down my Liberty Burger as I pretend to be as amused by that story as he is. “I bet it’s not as funny as when you were potty training her, though, right?”

  His eyes light up. “Actually, there was this one time when we were at the store, and a fan stopped Helen for an autograph, and Amelia took her dirty diaper off right in the middle of the frozen aisle and handed it to them. A complete stranger!” He starts to laugh again, then catches himself and clears his throat. “I’m not sure your sister would appreciate me telling you that.”

  “No, no, we’re cool. I just want to know about all that time I missed.” Mainly any embarrassing stories Amelia wouldn’t be able to live down if someone were to spread them around school. You never know when you’re going to need to blackmail someone, and she already used her power to take back all the baby pictures of her that I stole.

  “Well, maybe keep that one between us.”

  “Of course. I won’t mention it.” Not unless provoked, anyway.

  Gordon smiles. “This is fun. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

  “Any time you want me to get kicked out of class, just say the word.”

  He takes another bite of his sandwich, thinking about something. “You know, what you said earlier—”

  One of the waitresses at the front of the diner suddenly screams. We both turn to look and see her drop her tray, dishes clattering everywhere, and hold her hands up, as if someone’s pointing a gun at her.

  Which is exactly what’s happening. A guy in a black ski mask stands at the front of the diner, around the corner from us. He shouts, “Nobody move!” and gestures with the gun to the cashier. “Start emptying it. Now!”