by Drew Hayes
“Plus you’re hoping to have me clutched against you in fear for the duration of it,” Mary pointed out.
“I thought you didn’t listen to my thoughts?”
“Didn’t need to. I’m hoping for the same thing.” Mary reached up and kissed him, this one definitely not on the cheek. Though there were many physical boundaries the couple had yet to cross, they still kissed with enough passion that by the end, neither one was thinking about haunted houses.
* * *
Camille was nearly halfway back to her dorm when the figure stepped out of the shadows. She tensed immediately, turning sideways and bringing up her hands in a defensive stance. It laughed at her, and at the sound Camille knew she wasn’t in danger. She was still a bit annoyed at the entrance, however.
“You scared me,” Camille said, relaxing her body.
“I scared you? That’s pretty rich given the difference between us,” Nick said, walking all the way into the light. It was hard to see through his sunglasses at night, but after over a year of wearing them he’d gotten plenty of practice. “Seriously, after what I learned today, it’s hard for me to imagine you really being scared of anyone.”
“I don’t like being startled.”
“You don’t? Funny coincidence, I’m not big on surprises either. So try and imagine my displeasure at finding out one of my teammates had been hiding a tremendously important aspect of her powers.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide, I just didn’t want-”
“Vince to know. Yes, I’m aware of your feelings, as is Mary, as is really anyone with perception. You’re in luck, because that criteria still rules out Vince. I get that you are keeping it from him, and it doesn’t bother me. What does is when you hide things I need to know about in order to effectively strategize against our opponents. So let’s go ahead and clear the air. First off, why are you so set against him knowing you can give back the damage you absorb?”
“I... we met when we were kids. He doesn’t remember me because I was using a nickname, had dyed my hair, and told him how I absorbed damage instead of making him think I was a healer. I’m scared if he sees my real power he’ll figure out who I am.”
“Why is that so bad? Did the childhood version of you beat him up or something?”
“No. I was his first kiss,” Camille said, unable and unwilling to hide the blush washing over her skin. She expected a snappy comeback, but Nick was silent for some time before responding. When he finally did, his voice was softer and more amiable.
“I get it. I didn’t understand the little monologue you gave Allen at first, but now it makes sense. Vince must have left quite an impression on you as a kid. Not that surprising, I doubt he was any less foolhardy and moral then than he is now. So you met this kid whose memory stuck with you, and then some years later you show up at Lander and here he is. Now you’ve finally got your chance to be with him, as long as you can find the right angle of approach.”
“It isn’t like that!” Camille protested, her voice rising despite herself. “I don’t expect him to be with me, and I’m not trying to trick him into it. It’s just that he’s... he’s so reckless. He always charges into things for other people without giving any thought to his own safety. One day he’s going to get seriously hurt doing that.”
“And you want to be there to save him when he does,” Nick finished. “Which you have a much better chance of doing as a friend than as a romantic partner. After all, statistically speaking, most relationships fall apart. I think I finally comprehend. All right then, I’ll keep your secret for now.”
“You will?”
“Yes, but understand, keeping it should never take priority over winning in one of our team’s matches. Got me?”
“Of course.”
“Then I don’t see any harm in letting you have your privacy,” Nick told her. “It’s kind of a shame, actually.”
“How so?”
“You’re selfless, protective, and dedicated. If you weren’t so set against getting involved with him, you two would be a good match for each other. Probably better for me in the long run this way. The last thing I need is a pair of you do-gooders always around. Just handling one unwavering moral compass takes enough energy.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Not at all,” Nick said, giving her a smile that made Camille think of when her cat used to watch the fish swim in their bowl. “I’m glad we had this little chat. I think our team will be stronger for it. Be safe walking home. You never know what weirdoes are out there.” With those words and a wave, Nick headed back to Melbrook. Camille, meanwhile, started back toward her own dorm, trying with little success to reassure herself that Nick would be true to his word and keep her secret. She should have known better than to worry: Nick Campbell would never betray someone’s confidence.
Unless, of course, there was something to be gained from it.
51.
Tuesday morning found the sophomore students shuffling uncertainly to their first classes after gym. It was strange to shift gears so rapidly. Yesterday they’d been looking at each other with the savagery only competition can bring out, but today they were back in their normal schedules and social groups. It was uncomfortable to greet a friend that one might have had to punch in the face yesterday as if nothing had ever happened. The professors never said it out loud, but this flexibility of perspective was as much a point of the exercises as learning the initial teamwork. It was an unfortunate and undeniable fact that in the world of Heroes, sometimes you found yourself fighting a friend. Getting accustomed to it now reduced hesitation down the line.
The students soon fell back into their routine with minimal effort. It helped that the professors acted as though Monday had never happened, moving right from Friday’s lesson on to the logical continuation. There was no gain to be had in rehashing the matches; everyone knew who had won and who had lost. If the teams wanted consultation on why those results had been produced then they could schedule office hours. For the most part the goal was to move everyone past this last trial and get them refocused so they’d be ready for the next one. Besides, as the chilly October air suggested, it was growing later in the year. That meant midterms were fewer than eight weeks away. That thought alone was enough to put more fear in the students than any ghost or goblin. Of course, some people had other concerns on their minds.
“Hey, tall, tan, and talkative,” Angela yelled, grabbing Thomas’s attention as the sophomores headed toward the lifts. “Hold up for a moment, I need to chat with you.”
Thomas paused in his walking; HCP classes were over and he had some time before his first afternoon class, so it would be fine to listen to her. He motioned for Violet and Stella to keep going. The three of them usually had lunch together; he knew their habits and catching up would be no problem.
“How can I help you?” Thomas said politely as Angela approached.
“We need to talk about the party.”
“The party?”
“Yeah, the party. The shindig, the festivity, the kegger, the gathering. That enough synonyms?” Angela asked.
“I know what a party is; I’m not sure which party you’re talking about.”
“Look, October is winding down. That means pretty soon most of the cuts on the freshman class will have been made,” Angela said impatiently. “And as I explained last year when you came to the party at my place, it is tradition for the sophomores to extend an invitation to a social gathering for those newbies still remaining.”
“Wait, you want me to throw it?”
“Good thing you’ve got a knack for fighting, kid, you aren’t too quick on the mental upswing. Yes, you need to throw it. You’re a sophomore and you have one of the few houses with adequate size, location, and residents that are all Supers.”
Thomas resisted the urge to ask how she knew so much about his living space: a girl this determined probably had methods he was happier being ignorant of. Instead he focused on diffusing the situation. “I might have
the means; however, I’m not really the most gregarious person in our class. Perhaps there is a better fit for this duty.”
“You’re joking, right? Look, being a good host in this situation isn’t about creating fun. The kegs and attendees will handle that all on their own. No, it’s about being respected and powerful enough to impose order when things get out of hand, which they will. Take last year, for example; if I hadn’t broken up the pissing match that started over beer pong, a lot of bad shit could have happened.”
“If it’s power and respect, why not someone like Chad? I doubt anyone would question his authority to impose peace.”
“For one thing, because he lives in the dorms and doesn’t have a place. For another, because Chad, while hunky, is pretty anti-social. I don’t know how many people would show to something he organized. Having a good number of sophomore attendees makes the freshmen feel like they’ve walked into part of an existing community. If the party consists of five people, they’ll feel like they’re courted by a fringe of losers who can’t make friends with their own class.”
“I suppose I can see the point there,” Thomas conceded. “I still have some-”
“Listen, I don’t have time for this,” Angela cut him off. “The torch is passed, you have been tasked. If you want help and advice, by all means come to me. If you want to slide the burden to someone else, that’s your call. Just remember, we have this tradition for a reason. Freshman year is scary as shit, and letting those kids know that they have some support coming from higher up the ladder can make a big difference for some of them. So if you want to blow it off, I can’t stop you. Then again, if I thought you were the type to do that, I wouldn’t be having this talk with you in the first place.” Angela turned and began to walk away.
“You don’t know me beyond a few times we’ve briefly spoken,” Thomas called after her, his words bouncing in the now empty hall. “What makes you think I’m a good fit for this?”
“Shane recommended you,” Angela replied, turning around and giving Thomas a half-smile. “Funny thing about that kid, he has an odd knack for getting a sense of people. He said you were the most responsible guy in the whole class. That was enough for me.”
Thomas took a breath and cleared his head as Angela’s sunshine-colored locks swayed off in the opposite direction. He really didn’t want to throw a party, especially not with kegs and drinking and the like. It would be a large inconvenience for him and his roommates. Despite his wants, however, it seemed this was a duty, and Thomas Castillo had a very firm understanding of duty. He set his resolve and began heading toward the lifts.
On the upside, at least Violet and Stella would be happy about the news.
52.
“I don’t understand why I can’t just be a knight again,” Vince protested as he stared at the racks of colorful ensembles arranged along the walls.
“Because Halloween is a chance to have a little image experimentation, and doing the same costume over and over is not an acceptable social practice,” Nick explained. “Plus, shopping for them is half the fun.”
“You have an odd idea of fun,” Vince said with little conviction. He’d already given up and resolved himself to this fate; he was merely making sure to officially log his protests on the way down.
“Look at it this way: if you don’t dress up then you’ll stand out at Screamtopia. We’re supposed to blend in,” Hershel pointed out.
“Which I could do in the knight outfit I already own.”
“You just don’t get it, Vince,” Nick said, turning his own attention back to costume selection. The three boys were at a party supply store that was decked out in appropriate Halloween decor. After some discussion, Hershel’s haunted house suggestion had won out for their October 31 plans. Team One would all be going in a few days along with Thomas, Stella, Violet, Will, and anyone else they opted to bring along. The girls had gone on a shopping trip, leaving the three boys to their own devices. This had culminated in procrastination, leading them to search the already-scoured store with mere days to the deadline.
“What about condiments?” Hershel suggested. “They have ketchup, mayo, and mustard costumes.”
“There are two problems with that. First, we’d look ridiculous. Second, we aren’t a trio of gay polygamists, so we don’t need to be dressing in theme,” Nick said.
“A ‘no’ probably would have conveyed that just as well,” Vince scolded.
“Sorry, my bad,” Nick said offhandedly. “Let’s think in terms of things that work well for us personally rather than as a team. Hershel, how do you feel about mummies?”
“Ambivalent.”
“Good enough.” Nick snatched up a mummy costume and held it out to the huskier member of the party. “Go grab a dressing room.”
“Why a mummy?”
“Because Jekyll and Hyde would be too obvious. Just go see if you like it.”
Hershel began to protest more, then realized he didn’t have any ideas for costumes better than the one in his hand and decided to at least see how it looked.
“Okay, that’s one down; now what to do you about you, Silver? If we play to your hair color we could do a rave druggie or an old man. Any preference?”
“Neither,” Vince replied quickly. He’d just seen how being noncommittal had played out for Hershel so he was making his opinions known.
“Fine, fine. So picky for someone who says he doesn’t care.” Nick kept scanning the racks, looking for anything that would provide a ready-made explanation for Vince’s hair. On campus it didn’t stand out too much: there were plenty of people with unnatural hair colorings walking the Lander campus. Screamtopia was different, it wasn’t associated with the school, so they needed to try and look as normal as possible under the circumstances.
“How about a ghost? We get you some white clothing, dust you up with baby powder, and you make some moaning noises on cue.”
“Maybe,” Vince said cautiously. “Hey, what about this one? It seems kind of appropriate when you think about it.”
Nick glanced at the costume clutched in his friend’s hand. It was appropriate - a little too appropriate, actually - but it could account for the silver hair under the right circumstances.
“Try it on. If it fits we’ll grab some accessories and call you done.”
“Cool.” Vince headed off toward the line at the dressing room, leaving Nick to dig through the racks for his own holiday-appropriate attire. Last year’s gunslinger had been fun, but this year Nick was feeling a bit more mischievous, like he wanted one that showed a touch of his own personality. He ran his hands through the patterns of cheap fabric one by one, dismissing each as he passed it by.
Nick found the right costume near the end of the store, just when he was resolving himself to pick something that fit rather than something he liked. He’d seen variations of this idea already, but something about this particular one called to him. He snatched it up and made a beeline for the dressing room. There was no question he was buying it; all that remained to be seen was if it would require alteration.
* * *
Chad was already in the gym when Shane walked in. He ignored the blonde’s presence and went over to the free weights, trying to seem indifferent. Of course Chad was already here; Chad was always here, always working on getting better. Not that he needed it.
The two boys were the only sophomores here today; most of the others had been taking a break since the test. Some were feeling smug, some were licking their wounds, and some were just too tired to put in the extra hours. Shane finished a round of curls and moved to the bench press. He was halfway through his first set when a familiar shadow fell across his face.
“Need a spotter?”
Shane checked the venomous retort that wanted to fly out of his mouth. He had to get himself under control. He’d always known Chad was stronger than him; that wasn’t new. His team being so thoroughly trashed had still left a sour flavor in his mouth, and he hadn’t quite been able to curb the bubbling
anger directed toward his friend. In truth, that was the reason he’d been avoiding him; he didn’t want to say anything that would leave a lasting tarnish between them over something as ultimately trivial as a Capture the Flag match.
“Sure.” Shane kept the bar moving, pushing himself beyond where he would have stopped had a safety net not been present. In the end, he didn’t end up needing Chad’s help. His friend stayed silently present the whole time, waiting just in case. Shane set the bar down and grabbed his water bottle to take a drink.
“Haven’t seen you around much,” Chad said. Something seemed different about him today. It took a few seconds for Shane to realize it, but Chad was awkward. It was something Shane had never seen before. Usually the boy was so self-possessed and determined that everything he did exuded confidence. Not right now. No, at the moment he looked like a trout trying to blend in at a hammerhead convention.
“Been sort of busy studying for midterms,” Shane lied.
“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” Chad didn’t have to study for finals. His power allowed him to keep his brain in peak efficiency, resulting in perfect recall of anything he’d read or seen when he needed it. Cramming for tests was just one of those million little inconveniences he didn’t understand. “Doing anything for Halloween?”
“I think my team wanted to hit up the frat party they throw every year,” Shane said.
“Sounds fun. Mine is going to that haunted house downtown.”
“You going to join them?”
“Not sure yet,” Chad said.
“You should. Party nights are a good chance to build team spirit.”