Mom’s face is impassive. “If you do this, you’re not going to get into Vilmore.” She puts the device in my hand. “You’re making an enemy of your own mother. That’s the choice you’re making here.”
“No, that’s your choice, Mom.” I feel like all my insides are dying. I want more than anything to give it back to her and tell her I’m a supervillain and beg her to take me back. But I can’t. I don’t feel like a villain anymore—not one hundred percent, not after tonight. I could have gone along with Mom’s plan and become prince of the city, but I had to save Kat and stop Pete. And I couldn’t let her hurt Sarah or Gordon or anybody close to me, even if that meant sacrificing everything and not getting into Vilmore. Even if it meant I’m that much closer to getting an H instead of a V. I may not be all hero, but I can’t pretend I’m all villain, either.
Mom’s lasers flash. Everything happens in slow motion. The lasers hit my gun, exploding it in my hand. She lunges, reaching for the hypno device. I turn away. I hurl it as hard as I can at the wall.
“Nooo!” Mom screams. I can practically hear all her hopes and dreams breaking as the hypno device smashes against the wall.
“Don’t even think about bothering Sarah again. If you do, I’m sure the police and every superhero in town would be interested in finding out where you live and how to get into your secret lab. And I’ll be wanting the recipe for the antidote. When I come to get my stuff.”
I turn my back on her and walk out on the life I’ve known for sixteen years.
I stay the night at Kat’s house. Her parents don’t invite me, but I “accidentally” fall asleep on their couch, because I don’t want to deal with the fact that my mom disowned me and I’m dreading having to call Gordon.
Kat’s mom cried for an hour after we got back to their house, even though Kat assured her she was fine, and her dad shuffled around and said he would buy her anything she wanted, because he doesn’t know any other way to handle things. Nobody asked me how my wrist was. It hurt a lot, and maybe I should have gone to the hospital, but I wasn’t going to bring it up.
Kat’s mom wakes me up about noon, her hand on my shoulder. I blink, still tired. I want to go back to sleep, because sleeping means avoiding reality, but it also means nightmares and falling to my doom over and over. It means confronting my mom, who may or may not still care about me, and in my dreams it’s me who pushes Pete off the ledge. Sometimes I fall with him. Sometimes it’s just me who tumbles down to the pavement, while Pete does whatever he wants with Kat.
“There’s a man here who says he’s your father,” Kat’s mom says. “He’s waiting for you outside.” She looks a little guilty, and I’m guessing they didn’t want to let him in the house, since he’s a superhero. “Your phone rang about a hundred times, and I answered it and told him where you were.”
I sit up. I stare bleary-eyed at my knees. My stomach growls. I can smell myself—I don’t remember the last time I needed a shower this badly. And my wrist is throbbing and my face hurts all over.
“You don’t have to go with him,” Kat’s mom says. “I can call your mother.”
My eyes water when she mentions Mom. Mrs. Wilson’s so nice, and she doesn’t know Mom doesn’t want to see me again. I press the back of my arm against my eyes and breathe in slowly. I shake my head.
She hugs me and tells me it’s going to be okay. I kind of wish she wouldn’t. It makes it harder not to break down.
I get ahold of myself and tell her it’s fine, I’ll go with him.
Gordon’s waiting for me on the front porch. Relief washes over him when he sees me. Then he looks awkward and like he doesn’t know what to say.
“I guess you won. I’m a superhero now, right? I saved everyone and Mom doesn’t want me.” I stomp down the steps. “Lucky you, now you’re stuck with me.”
“I thought Helen was going to slug me this morning when I told her I didn’t know where you were.” Gordon squeezes my shoulder. I shrug him off. I don’t want anybody touching me. “You did a good thing last night,” he mutters, scratching the side of his head.
“Everything’s messed up.”
“It could have turned out a lot worse.”
“Like Mom not disowning me? Like Kat not getting kidnapped? And my ex–best friend not falling off a building and dying?!”
Gordon sighs. “Sometimes it’s not easy, doing the right thing. It’s not as black and white as you think.”
“Fine, so I’m a superhero. I guess that means you have to keep your promise and take me in.”
“That’s still an X on your thumb, Damien. I wouldn’t say the events of one night are going to decide your whole future. You’ve got time yet to decide which way you want to go.”
“You only have to put up with me for two years. Then I’ll be eighteen and on my own. It’ll fly right by. I’ll try and stay out of your way.”
“What are you talking about? If this is about what happened last night, well, I was under mind control. I wasn’t myself.”
“Not that.” He wouldn’t normally chase me down and shoot lasers at me—I know that much; I’m not stupid. “Last night, at the house, you said you didn’t care. You said taking me in was a mistake.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You wanted to.” I sit down on the porch steps. I consider going back inside and telling Kat’s mom I can’t go home with him.
“I was wrong. It wasn’t a mistake.” He squats down so we’re at the same eye level. “Everybody wants you to come back.”
I rest my head on my arms, propped against my knees. “It’s okay if you’re only doing this because you feel like you have to, but don’t tell me everyone wants me when they don’t.”
Gordon pales. He looks like he’s going to be sick. Then he smiles and shakes his head. “I don’t think they’d let me in the house if I showed up without you. And I know I’d never forgive myself.” He holds his hand out to me. When I don’t take it, he grabs me and pulls me to my feet.
“You’re a good kid, and I’m proud to have you.” He puts his arm around me and hugs me so hard, my ribs feel like they’re going to break. He kisses my forehead. “Come on, son. Let’s go home.”
“That,” Kat says, looking up at the shark swimming by behind the glass, “is a triangle, mister.”
“Square. You lose again.”
Amelia rolls her eyes at us. “It’s a shark.”
It’s been a week since the whole Pete fiasco. We’re at the Golden City Aquarium with my family. At first Gordon wasn’t going to let me bring Kat, on account of her being a supervillain. He claimed it was because the aquarium trip was only for our family, but then I played up how much my wrist hurt and said I didn’t know if I could leave the house without Kat there for moral support. He scowled at me and said she still couldn’t come, and then I told him about the robotic scorpions I put in his closet that only I know how to disable. That changed his mind pretty fast.
The front of my T-shirt has a picture of a shark with a word bubble that reads, SHARKS BITE PEOPLE! RARR! There’s an octopus on the back holding a sign that says I’M A GOOD SOURCE OF INK.
Kat’s wearing a silver evening gown. Heads turn as she walks by, and then people stare and mutter to themselves when they see me. She looks like she’s going to prom, and I look like I don’t respect sea life. It’s great.
I trace another shape on Kat’s palm with my finger.
“Circle,” she says. “Don’t patronize me, Damien. I can take the hard stuff.”
“Apparently not, or you wouldn’t keep getting them wrong.”
Amelia looks at the stingray gliding past the window, then looks at us like we’re crazy.
Alex runs by, chasing after the shark. He’s practically glued to the glass. Gordon tells him “No running,” and Alex slows to a jog.
Kat shuts her eyes as I draw another shape. She shakes her head. “What was that?”
“Dodecahedron.”
“It was not.”
“Was, too. N
ow you owe me ten dollars. I accept cash or credit. No checks or money orders.”
“How about I forget that you were late yesterday and call it even?”
“Ten-dollar late fee. I must be awful important.” I take her hands and pull her to me, pressing her against the shark tank. I move in to kiss her, but she kisses me first.
I hear an “Oh, gross!” from Amelia and some giggles from Alex.
I wonder how long we can go at it before aquarium security tells us we’re not supposed to touch the glass.
There are angry voices behind us, and I catch snippets from Helen like “came in the mail yesterday” and “that girl’s a bad influence.” Then Gordon marches over to us. He clears his throat. “Damien. Can I have a word with you?”
“Kind of busy.”
He ignores me and holds up a little card that says, Your subscription is on its way! “Helen tells me this came yesterday. Addressed to me.”
I break away from Kat and take a better look at the card he’s holding. It’s from Hottest Villains. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Wow, Dad, you didn’t even give them a fake name? That’s pretty bold.”
“I didn’t order it. But I think you know that.” He folds his arms, his jaw set, waiting for me to confess.
“I thought the thing with my mom was a one-time fling. I didn’t know you had a supervillain fetish.”
Gordon scowls. His face gets red, and he looks like he’s about to chew me out in front of everyone at the aquarium. But Kat interrupts him.
“Gee, Mr. Tines,” she says, “this is a real let-down. You’re always so clean and on the up and up on your show.” She sighs. “I guess it’s true what they say about not meeting your heroes in real life.”
Gordon’s scowl fades into a look of confusion. Then he beams at her, clearly entranced. “You watch my show?”
“All the time.” She claps me on the back and stage whispers, “So does Damien, but he doesn’t like to admit it.” She conveniently leaves out the part about how we make fun of it nonstop.
“I might have seen a few episodes,” I tell Gordon, “but I’m not a diehard fan like Kat here.”
She forces a smile while reaching over and pinching my arm.
Gordon’s so shocked by this news, he stands there, smiling and gaping at us for a minute, as if he we just told him the world was made of sunshine and rainbows and he believed us. “Listen, Damien,” he finally says, waving the subscription card, “we’ll talk about this later. And you’re going to give me the deactivation code to those scorpions the second we get home.”
“Of course.” I salute him, which seems to throw him off. He mumbles something about us enjoying the aquarium and makes his getaway.
I’ll tell him whatever codes he wants, but the joke’s on him because the scorpions don’t use a code. The only way to deactivate them is to wait until their batteries run out.
“We make good partners in crime,” Kat says.
“Yeah, sure. Today we do. Six months from now, when you’re going to Vilmore and I’m not …”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Even if I had my V, there’s no way Taylor would ever let me in. Not since I …” Since I chose Gordon over my mom. “Not since Mom disowned me. Vilmore and me—it’s never going to happen.”
Kat bites her lip. “A change of plans doesn’t change who we are. Or how we feel.”
“But—”
“Damien.” Kat grabs my shoulders. “I love you. That’s what matters.”
She smiles at me, and I know that she means it.
Kat and I have barely started kissing again when Helen stomps over to us, Jessica squirming in her arms. “Damien,” she says, addressing me and not Kat and not sounding particularly friendly, “we’re getting lunch. Are you coming?”
I give her a thumbs-up without breaking from Kat.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Kat!” Jessica shouts, and then laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“Maybe you two should give it a breather,” Helen says, in a tone that says by “maybe” she means “definitely.”
“Come on, Helen,” Gordon says, coming up behind her and taking Jessica. “Let the boy have his fun. You’re only young once.”
Helen shoots Gordon a look, like she plans on murdering him later but doesn’t want to say so in public. I can tell the last thing she wants is to let me “have my fun.” Maybe she’s the type who thinks teenagers shouldn’t be allowed to date until they’re thirty, but considering how she reacted when I told her about my supposedly kissing “Joe,” I think her getting so pissed off has more to do with who my partner is. Maybe bringing Bart the Blacksmith’s granddaughter to our family outing wasn’t the best idea in the world, but I love Kat, and Helen’s going to have to get used to it.
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen them yesterday,” Helen says. “I caught them timing it. With a stopwatch.”
I pause long enough to explain. “We were going for the world record.”
“But we were nowhere near it,” Kat adds, disappointed.
Helen sighs. “We’ll be at the food court if you decide you’re hungry. Otherwise, meet us in half an hour in front of the eel exhibit.” She calls for Amelia and Alex to hurry up.
Gordon ruffles my hair. He sounds extra friendly when he says, “Have fun, kid,” possibly to make up for how sour Helen’s being.
“Hey, Dad?”
He looks over his shoulder.
“Are people staring at us?”
He glances around. “No more than usual. You’re going to have to try harder.”
“Aw, nuts.” I snap my fingers.
Gordon’s laughter fades as he hurries to join the others. I go back to kissing Kat.
Things pick up and we get some good mutters from people walking by. An old lady calls us “obscene.” I’m beginning to think we should have brought the stopwatch when my phone rings.
“Don’t answer it,” Kat mumbles. She puts her hands on my face, holding me to her.
“Sorry, Katfish. Duty calls.” I answer it. It’s Sarah. “I thought I told you never to call me here.”
“Renegade, did you see the paper this morning?” she screams.
“You know I don’t read anything before noon.”
“There’s been a series of robberies all across town. The police can’t figure out the connection, but it’s so obvious they’re going after items owned by the Mad Baroness. It’s so infuriating! I know where they’re going to strike tonight. Not only are they going after Mad Baroness collectibles, but they’re doing it in this spiral pattern. We have to be there.”
“Got it.”
Silence. Then, “So get down here!”
“I’m a very busy man, Sarah. I can’t drop everything every time somebody needs me.”
“Psh. I know what you’re busy doing, and this is more important. Besides, I’ve got a new weapon for you to try out.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m on a family outing. It’s very important. Do not disturb and all that.”
“How is your family outing ‘do not disturb’? Fine. I guess I’ll go walk Heraldo.”
“I’ll be there in two hours.” I hang up.
Kate takes my phone and turns it off. “So you’re mine for two hours, huh?” She locks her arms around my waist.
“I’m partial to telling all the sharks they’re not as cool as they think they are, and that it’s people like them who bankrupt the tooth fairy and don’t leave any tooth money for the rest of us. Or we can make out some more. I’m planning on moaning, ‘Oh, Salty! You bad sea demon!’ next time. Just so you’re prepared.”
Kat grins. “Who says we can’t do both?”
“I knew I loved you.” I lean in and kiss her. And then a shark swims by and I shake my fist at it and ask it where all my quarters are.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank my awesome agent, Holly Root, for using the L-word and swooping in to save the day at exactly
the right moment. I’d also like to thank Greg, Elizabeth, and all the other wonderful people at Egmont for believing in this story and making the magic happen. Without them, this book wouldn’t be the physical entity you hold in your hands, and would still be intangible words on my computer screen—and if that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.
As for everyone else, putting up with a struggling writer is no easy task, but supporting and encouraging them for years on end? I’m pretty sure that puts you in the running for sainthood, which is why all these people get my most heartfelt thanks: Chloe and my family, for supporting the hell out of me, even when things looked their darkest; the writing group, for making Friday nights at the Black Drop my favorite part of the week; Dianissima and the rest of the Latin crew, for listening to more about writing than they ever wanted to know; and everyone down at The Pat’s, for taking me in when I needed it, teaching me Dianglish, and bestowing upon me the wisdom of Misty the Sphynk, a great oracle who definitely knows all.
CHELSEA M. CAMPBELL
grew up in the Pacific Northwest, where it rains a lot. And then rains some more. She finished her first novel when she was twelve, sent it out, and promptly got rejected. Since then, she’s earned a degree in Latin and Ancient Greek, become an obsessive knitter and fiber artist, and started a collection of glass grapes.
Besides writing, studying ancient languages, and collecting useless objects, Chelsea is a pop-culture fangirl at heart and can often be found rewatching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, leveling up in World of Warcraft, or spending way too much time on Facebook. You can visit her online at www.chelseamcampbell.com.
EGMONT
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Copyright © Chelsea M. Campbell, 2010
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The Rise of Renegade X Page 25
