“There’s no time,” Grandpa says, as if he can tell what I’m thinking. Or maybe he’s thinking it, too, because he must hate losing some of his people, especially like this, and it can’t be an easy decision. But he makes it anyway, because it’s us or them, and gives the order for us to make our escape.
Chapter 23
THERE’S A LOUD KNOCK on the door later that afternoon. Grandpa’s in his office, making hushed phone calls, and Grandma’s out visiting the families of the people we left behind. It doesn’t feel real. Not any of it. The knock comes again, more urgent this time. It seems weird to answer the door at someone else’s house, but I figure it’s someone important that Grandpa’s going to want to talk to once he’s off the phone.
I get up from the couch, where I was pretending to read a book I found, just so it would seem like I was doing something normal and not freaking the hell out about what happened earlier. Though the book is apparently about managing menopause, with a special section on how hormone changes affect superpowers, so I’m not sure it would have fooled anyone if they’d come to check on me.
Kat’s standing outside on the porch. Speaking of things that don’t feel real. I blink at her. “Kat? What are you doing here?”
“Me? What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here?!” She folds her arms, looking seriously pissed. “You know what? Don’t even answer that. I know what you’re doing here. What I don’t know is why you ran away from home and didn’t tell me.”
Oops. I scratch my ear and stare at my feet. “I didn’t think about it. I mean, I had to get out of there, and then I turned my phone off—”
“Oh, I know. I know you’ve had your phone off, because I only tried to call you about a zillion times!”
I take a step back. Kat’s so angry, she’s shaking. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her this mad—at least, not at me. “I’m sorry, Kat. I would have called you, but...” I swallow. “I’m kind of avoiding my phone right now.”
“That doesn’t make it okay! Because instead of hearing from you that you ran away, I had to hear it from freaking Sarah!”
Well, at least that explains why she’s so pissed, though I have no idea how Sarah found out.
A neighbor lady gapes at us from across the street, conveniently letting her dog stop to sniff some bushes so she has an excuse to keep listening in. Not that we’re exactly being discreet or anything.
“Er, maybe we should go inside.”
Kat glances over her shoulder at the neighbor lady, then pushes past me into the house. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room, scowling at everything with her hands clenched into fists. I gesture for her to follow me into the guest room.
I lean my back against the door to close it, feeling a little better now that we’re alone. Or maybe kind of terrified, since Kat looks like she might actually kill me. “I don’t know what you heard, but I didn’t tell Sarah anything. I didn’t really tell anyone.”
“Yeah, well, your dad called Riley, freaking out because you ran away. He didn’t have anyone else’s number, and I think he only had Riley’s because of Amelia. So then Riley called Sarah, to see if she knew where you were, and Sarah emailed me. I’d tried to call you earlier, and I thought it was weird that you had your phone off—you never have your phone off—but I thought maybe you forgot to charge it. Or that you accidentally fried it or something.” She holds up her hands, mimicking me using my lightning. “Then I had to hear from Sarah that you ran away. Because some superheroes attacked you in the park, and luckily your best friend Cosine was there to save her old pal Renegade.” Kat makes a disgusted face when she says our superhero names, like they leave the worst taste ever in her mouth. “She actually thought it was okay to email me and call you that.”
“I thought you were deleting all her emails?”
“This one said Urgent—Damien’s Missing in the subject line. And that’s not the point.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“I figured it out. There weren’t a lot of places you could go, and you weren’t with me.” She shrugs and sinks down on the bed, her chin in her hands. “I shouldn’t be the last person to find out you got attacked by some douchebag superheroes and then ran away from home, and I really shouldn’t have to hear it from your ex.”
“Whoa, Kat. Sarah’s not my ex.” I sit down next to her on the bed, even though she glares at me. “I mean, she is, technically, but I don’t think of her like that. She’s just my friend.”
“No, Damien, not just your friend. She’s your sidekick. You were begging her to be part of your future, and that would have hurt even if you hadn’t made out with her before. And then apparently she saved your life in the park yesterday. It sounded really serious—serious enough for you to feel like you had to leave home—and not once during all this did you think to call me and let me know what was going on or that you were okay.”
When she puts it like that... “I’m sorry, Kat. It all happened really fast.”
“Yeah, and you look so busy here.”
“I have my phone off for a reason, but I’m avoiding Gordon, not you. And if I’d known you were worrying about me, I would have called. I swear.” I slip my hand into hers, hoping she won’t just pull away.
“Everyone’s worried about you, Damien. Not just me.”
“So, what were you calling me about?”
“You’re really going to try and change the subject right now?”
“I know everyone’s pissed at me. But I had to do it, and I’m not going back, so there’s nothing to say.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I said worried, not pissed. I can’t believe you’d do this to them.”
I look away. “This is hard enough as it is. I don’t think I could take it if I knew— Hey!” She reaches for my phone on the nightstand. I make a grab for her and pull her toward me, so the phone’s out of reach, but she just uses her shapeshifting power to make her arm longer.
Kat presses the button to power up my phone.
All my insides go cold, and I want to be anywhere but here right now. I get up from the bed and pace the room. “I can guess what they’re going to say. I don’t need to actually hear it. Gordon’s not going to be all, ‘Hey, I understand, son. You’re doing what’s best for the family, even if it’s really difficult for you, and I admire that.’”
Kat looks up from the screen. “Great Crimson Flash impression.”
“Just delete all my messages. When all this is over and I’m ready to go back home, I want to be able to say I didn’t hear Gordon disown me or tell me not to bother coming back.”
“He’s not going to say that, Damien. And I’m not deleting anything for you. You’ve got, let’s see, twelve missed calls from me, eighteen from your dad, seven from Riley, four from Zach, and five from Sarah. And you’ve got fifteen texts, six emails, and...” She swipes her finger across the phone, then scrolls down. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight voicemails. You’re going to have to tell them something. You can’t let everybody worry about you like this.”
“I know.” I sigh and sit back down on the bed.
Kat drops my phone in my lap. “If it makes you feel any better, I get why you did it.”
“Thanks.” Everyone’s always telling me how wrong I am—it’s nice to hear the opposite for a change. “I’ve seen what the League does to people. Not just in those videos, but in real life. Some members of the Truth got captured, and Grandma and Grandpa went on a rescue mission earlier. They took me with them. Me and some other people. I saw the interrogation room, and I saw how they treat villains and what they do to them. I can’t let that happen to anyone I care about. Even if they don’t understand why I left, and even if it means they end up hating me, I can’t put them in danger like that.”
“So, if you’re not going home, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t really have a plan.”
She rolls her eyes. “You always have a plan.”
“My p
lan was for superheroes to not point weapons at me in the park and try and steal my little brother. But that didn’t exactly work out. So, you know, I quit school and abandoned my friends and family. Like you do.”
“Naturally.”
“And now...” I take a deep breath. “I don’t have a lot of options left. Grandpa was right when he said the heroes don’t need me. They don’t, and they don’t even want me. I don’t mean my friends and family,” I add, when she gives me a look, “but just in general. And normally I would take that as a challenge, and I wouldn’t back down.” I guess that’s kind of what I’ve been doing. “But now the League’s decided to openly harass and attack anyone they even suspect might be a villain, and that’s not okay. Someone has to stand up to them.”
“It doesn’t have to be you.”
“Yeah, Kat, it does. The Truth needs me. The heroes don’t. It’s a pretty clear choice.”
Chapter 24
ME AND GRANDMA AND Grandpa are eating dinner a few nights later when Mom comes over. Unannounced, of course. She has Xavier with her and an overnight bag.
“I’m so sorry to have to do this,” she says, not sounding sorry at all, “but our other sitter canceled, and Taylor and I have a big date night planned. This is the—”
“Damien!” Xavier screams, trying to tear himself loose from Mom’s grip so he can come glomp me.
Mom acts like she hadn’t noticed me until just now. Maybe she hadn’t. “Oh, Damien, what are you doing here?”
Apparently she’s the only person on the planet who didn’t get the memo about me running away from home.
“The boy’s staying with us for a while,” Grandpa says, his tone not inviting any questions about it.
“Yep,” I tell Mom. “That means the guest room is occupied. There’s no room for anyone else. Too bad.”
“You’re always so dramatic. Of course there’s room. My little sweetiekins doesn’t take up much space. No, he doesn’t.” She says that last part in full-on baby talk, while tickling Xavier in the stomach until he giggles uncontrollably.
One side of Grandma’s mouth twitches in disgust. “You’re interrupting dinner, Marianna. We were in the middle of eating.”
“I won’t stay long. I’m just dropping Xavier off for the night. I know it’s last minute, but like I started to say, our other sitter had to cancel, and Taylor and I have plans.”
I can’t believe her. “For a date night? Maybe you should cancel. He’s your kid.”
Mom laughs. “Cancel! Honestly. You couldn’t possibly understand at your age what it’s like to have a small child in the house. Taylor and I need our time together. We’re still newlyweds.”
Gross. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you had a baby. And wasn’t having ‘time together’ what caused the problem in the first place?”
She ignores me. “It’s only for one night. I’ve got everything in the bag. His pajamas, his special formula—”
“What? You’re not still giving him that growth stuff, are you?”
“I need it!” Xavier screeches. “It’s mine, and you can’t have any. Mommy makes it just for me, because she loves me so much.”
I share a look with Grandma and Grandpa.
“Marianna,” Grandpa says, in a half-scolding, half-warning sort of way.
“We have reservations! Booked weeks in advance. And that bed in the guest room is big enough for both of my boys, and if it’s not, Damien can sleep on the couch.”
“I can what?”
“Anyway, make sure he has his special formula before bedtime. I want him to grow up big and strong. Show them how strong you are, sweetie.”
Xavier makes an attempt to flex his biceps.
“There’s a change of clothes in there, just in case, along with his you-know-whats.” She fake whispers that part. “He’s still having the occasional accident. Make sure he puts on his big-boy diaper before bed. And that he doesn’t take it off when you’re not looking.”
“I don’t want to wear it,” Xavier whines. “Only babies wear diapers.”
“But these are big-boy diapers. Only big boys can wear them.”
Oh, my God. This is not happening. “Wait, are you saying he wets the bed? And you want me to share with him? Are you out of your freaking mind?!”
Mom glares at me. “You only have one brother, and you should think of him as a gift.”
“No, I have two brothers. I wish I had one.”
“You have two brothers?” Xavier asks, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “You can’t. Only I can be your brother! Just me!”
“Now look what you’ve done,” Mom says. “You always have to upset him, don’t you?” She drops his overnight bag on the floor and holds up her hands. “That’s it. I can’t take all this chaos. I’ll be by in the morning to pick up my little sweetiekins. My favorite little boy in the whole wide world.” She leans down and kisses Xavier loudly on the cheek, then makes a run for the door.
Grandma and Grandpa both sigh.
“One of these days,” Grandpa says, “I’m going to put my foot down.”
Grandma makes air quotes. “Her ‘other sitter’ canceled, my ass. That other sitter doesn’t exist.”
“Off.” I point to the floor and glare at Xavier as he tries to get up on the bed for the hundredth time. It’s only eight o’clock, but apparently that’s when Xavier has to go to bed. And he has to have the lights on, all night. And even though Grandma got out a little air mattress for him, he keeps trying to get into the bed. It’s nowhere near my bedtime, but after what Mom said about him having “accidents,” I’m not taking any chances by leaving the bed unguarded.
Xavier scowls. His “big-boy diaper” makes crinkling sounds as he slumps down on his mattress. “That’s my bed. I could tell Grandma you’re not allowed to use it.”
“Yeah? Good luck with that.” I keep scrolling through Facebook on my phone. Kat posted a new pic of First Mate Suckers. He’s at a seafood restaurant, staring longingly at a framed photo of a boat on the wall. I hesitate before clicking like, but then I decide being off the grid is overrated. Not that I’m really off the grid, anyway, since I called Gordon my second day here to let him know I’m not dead.
And by “called Gordon,” I mean I dialed the house phone during the middle of the day, when I knew no one would be home, and left a message on the machine. I didn’t tell him where I was, because I don’t need him trying to track down where my grandparents live, but I said I was safe and doing okay.
“If you’re not nicer to me,” Xavier says, “I’m not going to invite you to my birthday party.”
“I’ll take that deal.”
His mouth falls open, like that was the last thing he expected me to say.
My phone chimes and a new text pops up. I don’t recognize the sender, and obviously it’s not anybody already in my phone, because then it would say a name.
Your friends are worried about you.
What? I start to type Who the hell is this? but before I can finish, a new message comes in.
This is Mason, btw.
Rage floods my chest, and lightning burns beneath my skin. Riley’s new-old BFF is seriously texting me to tell me my friends are worried about me? They should be worried about him, because if I ever see him again, I’m pretty sure I’ll murder him.
“You’re going to be sorry if you miss my birthday,” Xavier says in his shrill, annoying voice.
I ignore him and write, How did you get this number??
From Ry. He’s worried about you. Zach is, too. And they know I’m an experienced mediator.
I have so many things to say to that. So many that I just sit there, fuming, trying to figure out where to start. I mean, seriously, who does he think he is? Just because he’s best friends with “Ry” doesn’t mean he’s allowed to text me and say all this crap. And bringing Zach into it? Zach doesn’t even like Mason, and I can’t picture him asking for his help. Mason just wants me to think that I’m so awful, even Zach is de
sperate to find some way to deal with me. Which would never happen. Not in a million years.
Right?
“We’re going to have a pony,” Xavier goes on. “With blue hair. And only I get to ride it.”
“Ponies don’t have blue hair. And your birthday’s not for over half a year, so shut up about it.”
“They do, too! If I want them to, they do. And my birthday’s in a couple weeks. I’m going to be six months old.”
His birthday’s in a couple weeks? My birthday’s in a couple weeks.
If Zach and Riley want to talk to me, I write, they can text me themselves.
“If you miss my party, you won’t get to see the pony. And you won’t get to watch me and my friends play in the bouncy castle.”
I look up from my phone long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. “What friends?” There’s no way Xavier has friends. And if he does, while I have to be “mediated” by this douchebag because my friends don’t know how to talk to me anymore, I’m going to be seriously pissed.
Another text comes in from Mason.
They tried, but you wouldn’t answer. I told them you’re going through a tough time right now—running away from home is a high-stress event, similar to a bad breakup or having to start over at a new school. You’ve obviously got some trauma going on in your life, and they’re hurt by your actions, so I’m stepping in to make things right.
The only way he could even remotely make things right is if he steps off and leaves all of us alone.
“My friends,” Xavier says, as if that explains everything. “I have lots of them.”
“Imaginary ones don’t count.”
His nostrils flare, and he clenches his fists and stands up on his air mattress. “My friends are real!”
Sure they are. Xavier supposedly has a bunch of friends, who somehow put up with him and would still come to his birthday, even though he’s the only one who gets to ride the pony? “How much does Mom have to pay them to hang out with you?”
The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) Page 25
