The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus)

by R. J. Ross

  "Touchy subject, huh?" Emily says from behind me. I close the door behind me, heading for the bed and dropping down on it. I hold my new phone up in front of me, staring at it for a long moment as I try and figure out whether I should call someone or not. Marge? I've already talked to Marge, and she's pretty useless at times like this, honestly. She'd just verbally pat me on the head and tell me that life sometimes winds up like this.

  No... the one I'm thinking about calling is Derrick. Derrick is that kid. You know, the one that everyone swears is going to wind up in prison before he's eighteen. The one that dropped out of school a long, long time ago, and has been in the middle of everything ever since? Yeah. He's the guy that every adult doesn't want you to get involved with, because they swear he'll drag you down right with him.

  He probably will.

  This is my chance to cut ties with him, you know? I never thought I'd be able to--thought I'd be in his little gang for the rest of my life. Not that I expected that life to be very long. But...

  I need to talk to someone that makes sense.

  For a long moment I stare at the phone. Once I type his number in, my thumb hovering over the green button, only to hit the red button instead. I don't know what he'll say if he finds out what I did. I don't know if I even want to know, honestly. I just...

  I put the phone on the bedside table and roll over, burying my face in my pillow. This is my chance for a new life, right? So why do I feel every single part of me shouting that I need to go back to my old one?

  ***

  "Jack, honey, time to wake up!" The cheerful voice right outside my door makes me grab my pillow and shove it over my head--only to curse as I hear the pillow rip on my hair. A feather floats down, landing next to my eye and I stare at it for a long moment. "Jack?" she repeats.

  "Jeanie?" I say in a muffled tone.

  "Yes, honey?"

  "I killed your pillow."

  "Oh, that's fine. Trent kills the alarm clock every morning," she tells me as if this were perfectly normal. "Come to breakfast, we're having bacon and eggs!"

  This is the first day. It always starts out like this, with the foster parents pretending to be the perfect little family. By the second or third day they're usually screaming at each other over something that I've done that the other one should have prevented. I have a mental countdown in my head that just clicked off the first day.

  Now I know you're asking about Marge. Marge was different, okay? She was oblivious and her husband couldn't have cared less. That's pretty much how I wound up staying there for so long. But anyway. Day one.

  I get out of bed and look around, seeing the bags of clothing in the corner. I don't remember them being brought in. I must have slept through it. I start digging through the bags, pulling out three pairs of surprisingly decent looking black jeans, a bag of boxers, a bag of socks, and a dozen of those stupid saying t-shirts that you get from Walmart. I stare at them blankly for a long moment, especially the squirrel and nuts one. A preacher's wife actually got me these?

  Then again the preacher wears Mega picking his nose... I grab a Pink Floyd shirt out of the mix and pull off the tag, tugging it on. It's a bit big, but that's better than being too tight, if you ask me. I finish dressing and dig out my wallet from the cardboard box that held my old stuff, hooking the chain on and slipping it into my back pocket, then pocket my new phone. Finally I pull on some socks and my old army boots before stepping out of my room.

  "You can have the restroom first," Trent says. He's wearing a tanktop and a pair of boxers and sitting at the table with a plate piled with food in front of him.

  "I dunno," I admit. "If I take a shower you think I'll rust?" What? It's a serious question! I'm mostly metal now, remember?

  "Nah. Pretty sure you're stainless steel," Trent says. "They would have told you otherwise, right?"

  "You have a new toothbrush, Jack," Jeanie says as she fries up more bacon. "It's the black and green one. And if you do want a shower I put a bottle of dish washing soap in there."

  Dish. Washing. Soap. She must notice me staring at her, because she turns and smiles at me. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe for your skin parts, too!" I swear I hear Trent snort, but his mouth is full of food--and half of that massive plate is empty. How does he even breathe when eating like that?

  Oh well, I think as I head for the bathroom. Might as well check out whether I rust or not.

  I come out about twenty minutes later. "Metal teeth," I say as I drop down at the table. "I've got metal teeth."

  "No cavities," Trent points out as he gets up and heads for the bathroom.

  "How is everyone taking this so easily?" I ask Jeanie.

  "Oh, honey, we were born this way. We see strange things all the time," she says as she puts a massive plate in front of me. "Now eat up, you're going to need your energy for school. I'm not sure what Nico will have you doing the first hour. Probably strength or speed training."

  I start eating, wondering about this school again. I can't help but think I'm going to wind up just like I was at my old school, hated by almost everyone. They'll piss me off, I'll deal with the problem, more of them will gang up on me--it's just how things always go with me. I've already got at least of few of them out for my head, so it's pretty much already started, right? I glance up as Trent comes out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

  "Let's go," he says, heading for the door.

  "Have a good day, you two," Jeanie says as I stand, grabbing another piece of bacon from my plate and chasing after him. We reach the steps and I stare down them for a second before sighing and starting down--only to almost fall forward as someone drops onto my back.

  "Sunny, wrong guy," Trent says, pulling the kid off of my back. All Sunny does is look up for a brief second before climbing onto Trent's back instead. Then he snores. I'm so busy staring at that that I don't even notice Zoe stepping beside me.

  "We need to talk," she starts out.

  "You turned me down," I say flatly. "Nothing more to talk about."

  "But--"

  "What happened to me--you weren't worth it," I say, turning to look her straight in the eyes. "No one is. So honestly, trying to 'talk' about it? All it does is remind me of things I don't want to think about." I start down the stairs, just to get away from her. It's easier to move today, I think as I reach the next floor and keep going. Maybe I'm getting used to the weight.

  "So," Trent says. I glance up at him. He's right behind me, carrying Sunny piggy-back down the stairs as if he weighs nothing. "I gotta warn you, Zoe and Max are in all your classes. We all are. And if you start a fight you get extra training time--a lot of it."

  "How do I get kicked out?" I ask.

  "You don't," he says. "You get stuck in the super villain training, I bet. Nico will toss something like world domination duty on you."

  "World domination duty," I repeat.

  "Or grunt work," he says.

  "I'll take him to the junkyard and use him as a metal collector," Nico says from behind us. I glance back, seeing the man in question wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of flipflops while carrying a cup of coffee. "That way I don't break a nail."

  I stare at him before letting out a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" I say.

  "I have a beautiful lady to impress," he says with a little grin, "you can't do that with ugly hands. Thankfully, you won't have any problems with messing up your hands, so it's a perfect way to train you and get me parts!"

  "Would it just be me?" I ask after thinking about it for a moment.

  "If you want."

  "I'll think about it." Because it sounds like I'm going to be stuck watching Zoe clinging to Max all day long and the idea makes me feel sick to my stomach. I'd rather be digging through old car parts than watching that.

  "Can I come, too?"

  I jerk as I hear the quiet question, looking up at Aubrey blankly. She blushes as she sees me looking at her. "I just--I do my extra training after school," she says. "Not when everyon
e else does theirs. So I'm just stuck sitting around being useless--so... can I come? It might be interesting."

  "You'd be stuck 'sitting around being useless' there, too," I say bluntly. "He's joking about messing up his nails, but you really would, right?" I start back down the stairs, reaching the main floor and heading for the door. There's a panel there, which I press my hand to, only to get the word "WAIT" flash over and over on it.

  "I like to go out first," Nico says as he steps forward, pressing his hand to the panel. The door opens and the glowing footprints appear, which he steps onto. I follow, wondering why I feel guilty for what I just told Aubrey--and more importantly, why Nico's just ignoring it.

  I step out of the force field thing that fries passing birds and look up, watching the supers that seem to appear from all directions. I... "Holy crap is that Banshee?" I ask, completely distracted by the sight of the long haired brunette floating overhead.

  "Yeah," Aubrey says, making me glance back at her. "She's our music teacher."

  "She was my first crush," I admit, looking back at the woman with awe. "I think I was like, seven."

  "She's old enough to be your mother's aunt," Nico points out.

  "Yeah, I get that now, but still," I say, staring up at her with my hands in my pockets. "She's... Banshee."

  "Yeah, yeah she is," Nico says with a slight grin.

  "Hey, who's the lady you're trying to impress?" I ask him.

  "Lady Rose. She's Zoe and Sunny's mom."

  That means they hooked up, right? Like, at least back before Zoe and Sunny were born. So why's he trying to impress her now? I... have no clue. It's none of my business, either. Instead I just follow behind him, glancing back once as the rest of the kids from the apartment come up behind me, talking cheerfully, or in Sunny's case, snoring. I look at Trent. "Does he do this every morning?" I ask.

  "Yeah. You wanna carry him?" he offers.

  "Why would I want to carry him?" I ask. "You're doing just fine. Why are you carrying him, anyway?"

  "Nico said he'd give me a detention if I don't," Trent says. "Because as a working cape I'm supposed to save people from themselves."

  "You're a working cape," I repeat.

  "Kid Liberty. I've got a uniform and everything."

  "Man I slept through a lot," I complain. Look, both you and I know that Trent probably doesn't like me, either, okay? Don't go thinking I'm a moron who's declared the guy my new best friend just because we're stuck in the same house. That doesn't mean anything. I've been stuck in the same house as a lot of guys. But I need someone to talk to that isn't Zoe or Aubrey.

  What? Aubrey doesn't know me, she's just picturing me as this body she spent working on for so long. And... you know... if I do let her get close, she won't look at me like she is now, will she? Yeah, probably not. So sue me, I like her thinking I'm a nice guy, or whatever it is she's built up in her head. I might not be one, of course, but it's nice to have one or two people deluded into thinking I am! Unlike Zoe, who I'm pretty sure has an even uglier view of me than reality, if that's possible.

  "So how'd that soap work?" Trent asks as we reach the yellow tape that surrounds Death Canyon. I stare at it blankly before looking at him.

  "Why are we here?"

  "We're going to school."

  "So... not only am I metallic, I'm going to be radioactive?" I ask. Glowing green skin parts-- Huh, might look cool, actually. But then again, getting to sleep with all the glowing would suck...

  "It's not, the norms just think it is," Trent says as a panel comes up from the ground. He touches it, jumps over the tape, and looks back at me. "You coming?"

  "Yeah, I guess I am."

  CHAPTER THREE

  I'm standing in front of the rest of the school in what looks like a gym. That's not the problem. "You want me to take my shirt off," I repeat, looking at Nico.

  "I need flesh, not metal," Nico says, holding up a handful of what look like suction cups on wires. "So unless you're feeling modest--"

  I don't know half of the people in here--I barely know a handful of them, actually, but the idea of being called "modest" in front of them has me dragging off my t-shirt and tossing it to the side. I hear several surprised gasps and comments from the crowd. Even the teachers start talking to one another. I feel a bit like an animal at the zoo, actually.

  "So if we want to put 'kick me' signs on you, we can use a magnet, right?" Sunny says, still half asleep.

  "Or we could use him as a mirror," Trent decides. "Especially his head--wait, you can't, Sunny, you're too short."

  "I'll get a step stool," Sunny says.

  "Wouldn't it be easier to just find a mirror at the right height?" his girlfriend asks him.

  "Depends on which is closer."

  "You are so lazy," she complains.

  "Hey, Jack," Sunny says, making me look at him questioningly as Nico starts sticking suction cups on my chest. "Did you notice?"

  "Notice what?" I ask.

  "We've got a celebrity in our mix."

  "Not at the moment we don't," Nico says, turning to his laptop and tapping away for a moment. "Let's see... your healing ability has started kicking in, you've got extreme density..." he seems to be muttering to himself as he stares at a line drawing of me on the screen. "And according to your power readouts it looks like... you could register in the Elementalist class," he says. "Who woulda thought it? Well, other than me."

  "What celebrity?"

  Sunny gives me the most evil grin I've ever seen. "Justin."

  I stare at him, lifting my arms when Nico pushes one up, my mind completely focused on that one word. "Justin who?" I ask. There's no way he's talking about that singer guy, right? Please, God, tell me it's not that singer. I HATE that guy with a passion. Ever since one of the girls in our old foster home started listening to the same song by him.

  Over.

  And over.

  And OVER AGAIN.

  "Just Justin," Sunny taunts. "Aren't we lucky?"

  I want to slam my head into something. The look on my face must have said something about how I feel, because both Sunny and Trent burst out laughing. "His face!" Trent says. "Oh man, I gotta get a picture of this!" he adds, bringing out his phone and snapping a picture of me.

  "Hey, I got a perfectly good reason to hate the guy!" I protest. "Ever since Gina took up playing that dumb lover lover song over and over again--it was HELL."

  "It was!" Sunny agrees, still dying. Is it just me, or has he relaxed a lot since moving out of the home? I watch him curiously for a moment, wondering about that. A tiny grin pulls at my lips, reluctantly, because it is sort of funny. I mean, he went through it, too!

  "Then you should hate him, too, right," I say.

  "Nah, don't know him," Sunny admits with a shrug. "He's barely said a word since coming here. I heard he had a problem at his last show, so he was forced to come here."

  "What problem?"

  "He accidentally lost control of his powers," Nico says. "Okay, looks like you won't die," he says, starting to tug the suction cups off of me again. "Everyone, this is Jack, Jack, this is everyone. Jack's a special case, so if he comes off as a jerk it's because he needs oiled again--"

  He really did just say that. I heard him.

  "So we'll be putting bottles of WD40 in every classroom, located next to the door," he finishes. "If, by chance, you run out of oil, please call the nearest teacher to get a refill."

  I stare at him, even as he pulls a spray bottle of WD40 off of his desk and shows it to them. "You're joking, right?" I say finally.

  "Nope, not at all," he says. "So I suggest you watch yourself, otherwise you'll be covered in the stuff."

  That's totally demeaning. But at the same time--I grab the bottle and spray my hand, seeing if it would work. "Huh," I say. This time the entire group starts laughing at me, especially when I rub it on my shoulder. What? Being mostly metal makes you stiff!

  The door of the gym opens and I glance over as a guy about my age walks in,
looking like this is the last place he wants to be. Wait, wasn't I supposed to be the surly guy in this situation? And that--that's definitely that Justin guy, isn't it? I'm positive I don't like him, now. He's trying to take my job!

  "Nice of you to join us, Justin," Nico drawls. "You're only fifteen minutes late."

  "Wish I'd been later, I could have missed the naked guy show."

  "Shirtless isn't naked, unless you're a chick," I say, walking over and grabbing my shirt from the floor. "But that might explain some things."

  "Jack," Nico says. "Tell me now if you want gloves for your junkyard work."

  Wait, wasn't he supposed to yell at me for the comment about being a chick?

  "He just accused me of being a girl, and you're ignoring it?" Justin demands.

  "I want gloves," I say. "I still have some flesh on my hands."

  Nico pulls a pair of kevlar gloves from his table and tosses them to me. "Then let's head out. Blackjack, you get the cameras today, I'm going to oversee Jack's training."

  "Are you just ignoring me?" Justin demands.

  "Yeah," Nico says, grabbing a few small metal pieces and walking past Justin. "I am." I follow behind him, glancing at Justin for a moment. I should be gloating, but I don't really feel like it. I'd just had an adult take my side, one that isn't Marge or a complete idiot. I'm not sure how to handle that feeling, honestly.

  "Morning, Double M," Nico says, alerting me to the fact that he's on the phone. "Did I wake you? Sorry bout that. Can you send me a half dozen black coats to the junkyard? Yeah, the one by the Cape Cells--" he stops, glancing back. "Make it a dozen, Aubrey's coming, too."

  I glance back, seeing the brunette following along behind us with a determined expression on her face. "Are you sure a dozen is enough?" I ask.

  "They'll only be there until I set up the field," Nico says. "Aubrey, are you certain about this?" he asks as she moves to my side. "I didn't get gloves for you."

  A part of me wants to yell at her, tell her she's a moron for chasing after us, for thinking whatever crazy thoughts she's thinking... but the other half of me is handing over the gloves. "Just today, okay?" I tell her. "You got more important things to do than grunge around in a junkyard, right?"