Orlando was doing most of the painting. Every day after school, or at odd hours of the night, he’d sneak over and do a wall or two. It was therapeutic for him. So much so, in fact, that he briefly considered taking it up as a hobby until he realized he wasn’t artistic. What he did like was the constant, solid movement of the paintbrush going up and down, and the way it felt on his skin. There was a sense of accomplishment involved as well, and it gave him a chance to collect his thoughts.
He was pretty sure Tait had asked him out earlier today.
He’d been heading to lunch, talking about some sort of assignment with another student. He wasn’t the best with names, but he was pretty sure her name was Kayle. She was a nice enough girl, but so shy he found himself waiting for her to spit out whatever it was she was trying to say far too often.
“Well, I don’t know if you’d—well, maybe we could—and there’s coffee at—” Kayle stammered as she got into the line for the hot lunch of the day. Orlando followed her to be polite, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood for fish sticks and tater-tots. He’d stay until the line was no longer out the door.
He tapped his chin while he listened to her. “Are you saying you want to get together to work on this?”
She nodded.
“I suppose if you need that much help, I can donate an hour of my sleep time to come in early and meet you in the library.” He gave her a weak smile, and couldn’t help but be mildly amused at the way she started to stumble her way through an apology. It shouldn’t have been funny, but he couldn’t help but think that the fact he was intimidating was hilarious.
That was when Tait had joined them in the line. She looked at Orlando, then Kayle, and then back at Orlando and raised an eyebrow.
His attention immediately went to her. “We’re doing this thing called having a conversation. It’s where two people stand and talk to each other.” Kayle hunched up and rubbed at her arms.
“I wanted to talk to you, and I was trying to decide if it would be okay if I interrupted, or if you were talking about something important. I didn’t want to be rude,” Tait said with a shrug.
“Staring is pretty rude.” He started to fidget, and he didn’t understand why. Being a hypocrite, he also stared at her. But if she didn’t wear those short, tight shirts that just barely covered her midriff, and those jeans that hugged her curves so well, he’d probably have an easier time at keeping his eyes elsewhere.
“I just got here. I wasn’t staring.”
“Fine, a small detail I guess. Anyway, you weren’t interrupting anything important, unless you think that marketing is the end-all-be-all of the universe.”
“Not really.” She paused. “Two weeks is the Sadie Hawkins dance.”
“In my khaki pants?”
“Nothing better.”
“Oh, oh, oh.” He couldn’t help it. The opportunity for the song reference was too easy to take.
She giggled and blushed. He glanced over at Kayle, who was now busy blending in with the rest of the world by standing and playing with her cellphone.
Tait ran a hand through her hair. “So the girls ask the guys.”
“Surprised...” And he was if this conversation was going in the direction he thought it was. Speechless was another, and he stared at her with his mouth hung open.
“You are?” She continued to play with her hair. “Well, it was just an idea.”
“I’m confused. Is this your roundabout way of asking me to go with you?” he said, finally getting his brain rebooted to the point where he could reply somewhat normally.
“Peyton thought—”
“Oh, I would think you’d have at least ten other guys on your list before me to take.” She could probably get any guy she wanted to go with her. Everyone liked her, it seemed.
“I don’t make lists of boys. What I was going to say is Peyton thought it’d be fun if we doubled with him and his girlfriend, maybe get a third. I figured I’d ask you because despite your inability to make nice, you’re actually pretty cool. You’re new. I thought it could be fun, and I thought you might leap at the chance to get out of your house for a change since you won’t be grounded.”
There were a lot of things passing through his mind as to how to respond to that. Of all the witty things he did think up, he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them. Instead, he opted for something simpler.
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you don’t want to go—”
“I didn’t say that. I just said I’ll think about it.”
“Gotta work it into your busy schedule?” she asked, heavy with sarcasm.
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly Mr. Social Butterfly. You got me out to a football game, two actually. I want to think about it. Is that okay? Or do you need me to say yes now because you don’t want me to crush your precious girly ego?”
“I can wait, but only if you’re really going to think about it.”
“I am.” He briefly met her eyes with his own, and then left the lunch line. That was the last thing he said to her for the rest of the day.
And he did have a lot to think about. Logically speaking, he wasn’t sure if he could save the world and go on a date. They may have only been in the training stages, as Alan liked to put it, but it was made clear that a lot was expected of them in terms of how much assistance they would be giving.
Orlando wasn’t sure if Alan understood that in America, the youth were expected to devote their lives to school and staying out of trouble. Normal teenagers had curfew, homework, tests, jobs, families, and other relationships. He didn’t want to be normal, but even he had a lot of those same things to deal with, too. Just thinking about it all made him feel overwhelmed, and he was never one to do anything halfway.
He finished painting the wall and started to clean up, using his telekinesis to help out. It was good practice for him. He was getting better at multitasking and being able to focus on using his ability as well as thinking about other things. Surveying his work, he nodded in approval as he listened to the brushes being rinsed off in the sink. He had done more than enough for the day. Lyssa would be expecting him for dinner soon, and he wanted to be somewhat presentable for her. He took a shower in The Apartment, before putting on the clothes he had worn to school earlier.
“Orly?” His sister was calling for him via the intercom. Upon exiting the secret corridor, he found the nearest speaker and pressed the call button.
“Yes?”
“Where are you? I’ve been calling you for the past ten minutes.”
“Downstairs, I’ll be right up. I was showering.”
“Downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a shower down there?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure about that one, but he doubted she’d check. There was space for guestrooms, so it was a plausible idea.
“Why were you downstairs doing that?”
He sighed. “Mine is busted. Do you want me to come up there, or should we just talk through a button? You could have just called me or texted me or something. I do have a cellphone.”
“Come up. I’m in the kitchen.”
He found a door leading to a hidden passageway going directly to the closet next to the kitchen. When he walked out, he noticed her staring at him.
“What? It’s fun. I do have fun sometimes,” he said.
“Boys are weird,” she mumbled. “Sit down, I made pasta. We need to talk.”
Orlando took a bowl of the spaghetti and meatballs, a slice of garlic bread, and a large glass of milk to his place at the table. “All right, talk to me.”
“Why is there a bill for roughly five thousand dollars to Ikea on the credit card? Not to mention another bill for Home Depot that’s about three hundred?” she asked him so casually that it was hard to tell if she was furious, or if she didn’t care. He was preparing himself for the former.
“I’m making a man cave,” he said before taking
a bite. He wondered how he learned how to be such a good liar when he and she had never kept secrets before. Then again, he didn’t see it as a lie. Was omission still considered lying?
“I decided to make my own space, so when I have friends over we can stay out of your way. There’s kitchen space and everything. They’re coming by to deliver the appliances and install them while you’re at work. I promise they’ll be gone by the time you get done. I know how you feel about the big mess,” he continued.
That was at least most of the truth. He knew she would ask to see it, so he ordered double the appliances, and double the furniture. He waited to see how she would react.
“What’s wrong with our kitchen? What’s wrong with our living room?” she asked.
He sighed. “I was thinking about you dating. I want you to feel like you can bring your,” he swallowed, “boyfriend over here and not have to worry about me invading on you two. Besides, it’s a guy thing. We need our own territory, and the living room is full of girl.”
“You’d be okay if I brought Jon over?” The smile she gave him made it all worthwhile. The guy made her genuinely happy, and Orlando would have to suck it up and meet him eventually. He might as well make things easier.
“So long as you keep it to places where I can conveniently walk in every so often and not find you two in the throes of passion. Because I do not need to see that. There would not be enough brain bleach in the world to make it better.” He took a drink.
“We’re nowhere near there. We aren’t even boyfriend/girlfriend yet. You’re sidetracking me from being mad at you.”
“So, you are mad? All right, I should have asked first if it was okay.”
“Yes, you should have. That’s a lot of money. Are you remodeling down there or something?”
“Kind of?”
She set her fork down with a lot of force, and it made a loud, dull, clanking noise, and it was the only sound resonating in the room for a minute or two. A minute or two that felt a lot like five.
“I will show you when I’m done, and you’ll see how cool it is. It’s going to be worth it.”
“And I’m guessing you’re going to need some cool electronic stuff for your man cave?”
“Of course.”
She sighed and stirred at her spaghetti. “I’m guessing a new TV or two, some video game thing?”
“TVs, probably, maybe a surround sound system, some lighting effects, maybe a couple of computers so we can have effective LAN parties.” He smiled, trying to be encouraging and maybe even get her excited about the idea. “I don’t know yet if I’m going to get another gaming system or two. Probably, so we can have some hardcore multiplayer games going on. I’m not moving the one in my room though. I like being able to play my games while in bed.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“It’ll be worth it. For both of us.”
“I still wish you would have asked, so we could discuss the budget before you started going and doing whatever you wanted. I mean, I know we have unlimited funding, but that doesn’t mean you can do anything you want.”
“When have I ever gone off and spent a ton of money like this before? I hardly ever go and buy anything for myself, save for a new game every couple of months. I could be buying a new car, or girls, or meth. Or fly myself over to China or some other country every other weekend with ten of my friends.”
“You don’t have ten friends.”
“I could now, or a girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?” Lyssa’s jaw dropped.
“We’re in negotiations still.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “The point is, this is the first time I’ve been irresponsible with our money, and I’m investing in something that isn’t completely asinine. Dad would be all for it.”
Again, it was quiet for a long time. He could almost see the gears turning in her head as she thought.
“I won’t punish you, but if you ever do this again, I’m going to take all your cards away and cut them up. Then I’ll make you get a job as a busboy or a barista or something, so that the only fun money you’ll see again comes in the form of a tip. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m limiting your electronics budget to two thousand.”
“That’s barely enough for a decent TV. Give me ten thousand and we can call it an early birthday present from Mom and Dad.”
“You just had a birthday.”
“Fine, make it a late one. All they got me were clothes that don’t fit me and an empty promise that they’ll come back home soon so we can ‘do something fun’. This is me doing something fun. Please?” He stared at her from across the table with wide hopeful eyes.
“Birthday and Christmas.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” She sighed again and took a small bite. “I’m only letting you do this, though, because I like that you finally have initiative to make new friends. Go one cent over though and—”
“I won’t, I promise. I probably won’t even hit that much. I just want to not feel so restricted.” He smiled, feeling genuinely happy for a change. Those moments were happening a lot lately. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was doing something productive with his life, or if it was the new social circle he was becoming accustomed to, or if it was simply Tait.
“Why are you blushing?” Lyssa asked.
“I’m blushing? I’m not blushing.” It was Tait.
“You don’t look like a ghost. Something is up. Tell me about this girl.”
“I was being facetious.”
“I think you’re just full of feces.”
“Clever.”
“Thank you, I thought so. Now spill.”
Orlando sighed. “I was asked to the Sadie Hawkins dance today by the captain of the cheerleading squad.”
“Did you say yes?”
He finished eating and moved to take his plate up to the sink. “No.”
“You said no?”
“No, I said I’d think about it.”
“Do you like her?”
He shrugged. “As much as I like anyone, I suppose.”
“It’s a pretty big thing when you actually do,” she said with a smug grin.
“I have homework,” he mumbled before grabbing his bag and heading upstairs to his room. She was laughing at him as he left, and he couldn’t blame her. It was funny. He only had a little bit of reading to do, and then it was time to practice again. Once The Apartment was completed, Alan was going to start training them hardcore. He never explained what they would be doing exactly, but it didn’t sound like something easy.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m going to be feeling this tomorrow,” JD whined from one of the couches. He said it just about every day after one of their training sessions, and Alan couldn’t help but wonder if all of the boys on Earth were this pathetic and out of shape. Even Orlando didn’t seem like he could handle it, though he was much less vocal. He had fallen asleep in one of the other rooms.
Cadence glanced over at JD and shook her head with a small smile. She, too, seemed exhausted. “All the more reason to do it every day. Then you’ll get used to it.”
She made a gesture for Alan to meet with her outside of the room. He nodded back at her, knowing full well what they were going to talk about. “I’ll be right back. You rest up.”
JD grunted and closed his eyes, clutching the couch pillow closely. It wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Once he was, both Alan and Cadence snuck out of the room and made their way down the stairs to what had become the office.
“I am worried you will never be ready,” Alan said.
“I think there’s a lot of progress being made.” Cadence said with a shrug and logged onto the computer. “Earlier this week, none of us could fight even if we were doing it for survival. Well, maybe Orlando could.”
Alan had been instructing them all in basic hand-to-hand combat. The boys picked it up more naturally than Cadence did, but none of them were excel
ling at it. Orlando wouldn’t need it as much as the other two because his abilities were aggressive in nature, but it was still important for them all to know. Especially because Alan was starting to feel the pressure of putting his charges out onto the field.
“I’m guessing you heard from your superiors again,” Cadence said while she typed on the keyboard. She was on what was referred to as the Internet, a network of global communication that impressed Alan. He liked that it was free and so easy to use. Back home, total access was limited.
“Yes, I did hear from them. They are concerned with what you had shown me,” he said as he found a place to sit.
“It concerns me, too. Three more teens went missing from the cities.” She clicked and moved over so he could read the news article on the screen. This one was similar to the article she had shown him in the paper a week ago. “How long before they come back dead, too, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled as his eyes read the words.
Three Teens Missing from Twin Cities
Reagan Erndant, Cassidy Maze, and Trever Logan were last seen Tuesday morning by their families before leaving for school. Authorities were contacted when all three did not show up for class that day.
There was more to the article of course, about the teens, and how all three were good students as well as good friends. Their mothers insisted they were well-behaved children, and they wouldn’t have run away or snuck off to do anything illegal. The parents all suspected foul play. It was the end of the article that had Alan most intrigued.
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