by Drew Hayes
“I’ve never asked him, but however he does it, I’m sure we can use it to get a bottle or two for the party.”
“We appreciate it,” Stella said. “So I can count you guys as coming?”
“Of course, we wouldn’t miss it,” Nick confirmed. He wasn’t actually sure if the others would want to come, but it was an opportunity to pick competitors’ minds as well as solidify relations with the few allies they still had. Tactically it was a no-brainer, plus it might alleviate some of the stress he’d noticed in the group. Vince was freaking out about class, Roy had been training relentlessly, Hershel seemed to be worried about Roy, Alice was occupied with trying to understand the new aspect of her powers as well as forgetting the incident on Halloween, and Mary was, well, she was actually doing quite fine. Aside from the awkwardness they’d been grappling with since her foray into his brain, they were actually the least tightly-wound of everyone.
“Bitchin’. I’ll tell Thomas. Spread the word around, would you?”
“Sure you want me to do that?”
“What do you mean?”
Nick slowed his walking and looked at Stella more pointedly. “I appreciate you inviting us; I even like the fact that you pretended it was no big deal. Let’s be honest, my group isn’t exactly the most beloved set of people in our class. Us being there is one thing, but do you really want us advertising the fact that we’re going to show up? I fear it might significantly drive down your attendance.”
“Spread the word around,” Stella said forcefully, her own expression not showing one bit of consternation at Nick’s words. If Nick had been one to show his feelings, he might have smiled. He liked the metaphorical balls on this girl. It made her more interesting than many of the others.
“Consider it done.”
Stella gave him a curt nod then began heading her own direction. She stopped after a few steps and called back to him.
“Hey, Nick!”
“Yes?”
“No bottom barrel shit! I don’t want to lose my eyesight over a mixed drink.”
Nick laughed quietly as he continued on his way. He might actually break out a decent bottle of something for the festivities. It seemed the least he could do to repay such stalwart support.
* * *
“Hey there, pretty boy, how’s life treating you?” Angela slid next to Chad as he mechanically lifted the weights with his biceps. His gaze was distant as he focused on the exercise, but he took in her presence just as he noticed everything else.
“Good,” Chad grunted. He did a few more reps before setting the weights down. “You?”
“Supercalifragiawesome, per usual,” she replied. Her smaller hands wrapped around a pair of regular weights, the kind for people without puffed-up strength, and she began to do some shoulder lifts. “So I heard the yearly party is coming together. You going to attend?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Not big on parties,” Chad replied honestly. He scooped up a heavier pair of weights and began a round of triceps work. “Besides, my last outing didn’t go so well.” He’d eventually gotten control of his emotions and heard Rich’s side of the story; however, the night had still turned out to be one heck of an emotional roller coaster.
“A little birdy told me about that. I can assure you this one will be more fun. I happen to know for a fact the person hosting it is a responsible and conscientious young fellow.”
“Who is putting it on?”
“Thomas Castillo and his roommates.” Angela resisted the urge to arch her back. It would have accentuated her breasts, which she was quite proud of, but it also would have been a rookie mistake. Chad wasn’t the type to have his mind distracted by some lumps of flesh; he required a more subtle touch. Besides, it would have messed with her shoulder lifts and she was here (at least partially) to get a good workout.
“Thomas is a good man,” Chad commented.
“And I’m sure he throws a good party. Which you should go to. Next Saturday.”
Chad paused his workout and turned his attention to the female currently whittling down his resolve. “Why does it matter if I go?”
Angela stopped her own exercise as well. “Look, I didn’t want to come out and say it, but I guess I have to put my cards on the table. Thomas and his friends are nice, friendly people. They’re simply not all that powerful. Not compared to Supers like us.”
Chad nodded his agreement. Most would have taken the attitude for arrogance, but in Chad’s eyes there was nothing wrong with making valid assessments of one’s abilities. He was stronger than they, and Angela was stronger than he was when last they fought. He suspected that had changed; however, it wasn’t relevant to the discussion at hand.
“These parties are important for the freshman, but with all that alcohol and all those egos, it can get out of control. I think it would be best for everyone if someone strong enough to enforce order was in attendance.”
“I see,” Chad replied. “I still am not big on parties.”
“I know, I know. I tell you what: I’ll even give you a hand. Juniors don’t usually go, but you can bring me as your date.”
Chad raised an eyebrow.
“It’s just a pretense, moron. With both of us there, no one will dare start any stupid shit. Everybody has a good time and we can cut out early if things go smoothly.”
Chad resumed his workout and considered the proposal. He had no desire to attend such a function, and it would eat into his time for training. That being said, he did respect Thomas for his morality and his dedication. If anything happened to his home, Chad would feel guilty knowing he might have prevented it. More than that, Chad suspected Thomas was only throwing it in the first place out of a sense of duty. If he could do his part, then Chad felt he should chip in as well.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“Great! Pick me up at six that night. We’ll grab a quick dinner then head on over.”
Chad didn’t recall agreeing to that part; however, he was slowly learning that it wasn’t worth the effort to try and argue with Shane’s sister.
74.
“Two more rolls ought to do it.” Stella stood up and stretched, her spine letting out a series of pops that sounded as though she’d stepped on bubble wrap. Beneath her feet was thick plastic sheeting that now covered the floor of their living room. One could scarcely even make out the carpet suffocating beneath the spill-resistant protection. That was exactly as it should be, because conversations with experienced partiers had educated them on the fact that without adequate carpet coverage, their security deposit was as good as gone.
“Thank goodness, I’m about sick of this,” Violet complained from the other side. “You’re a real peach for helping out with this crap, Camille. If I was in your place I might have made up an excuse to duck out after the first five minutes.”
“It’s not so bad,” Camille said from her spot at the opposite end of the room. She was nearly done fastening the plastic to the ground so tightly that it wouldn’t move even when tread upon by dozens of careless youths. “Sort of nice to break up the routine.”
“We appreciate it. Tell you what, on party night you have permission to cut the line to the keg as often as desired. Anyone gives you lip and I’ll handle it personally,” Stella offered.
“Thank you. I’m not sure if I’m going to come or not.”
“Not this again,” Violet spat. “We barely get to hang out anymore with us all being on separate teams. We didn’t even get to spend Halloween together. There is no way you’re ditching our freaking party.”
“Besides, I’ve heard through the grapevine that your team will be coming. Alllll of them.” Stella managed to pronounce the word “them” in a way that sounded suspiciously like “him.”
Camille reddened and turned her attention back to the plastic. “I see them all the time.”
“But you don’t see them in social situations. Ones with alcohol provided to the under-aged and smal
l rooms for ducking away from the crowd. Who knows what kinds of team-building activities could happen is such a socially lubricated scenario?” Violet pointed out.
“I don’t think that would be very appropriate in the long term,” Camille said, hands still working even though the plastic had been attached for nearly a minute.
“It wouldn’t be appropriate in the short-term, either, but who gives a shit?” Stella asked. “This isn’t a professional team you’re spending the rest of your life with. These go until the end of the year, and that’s assuming the profs don’t pull some weird fastball and change them up to screw with us. A relationship can last much longer, and you won’t get more of an opportunity to start one than while you two are still teamed up.”
Camille considered denying her crush; however, at this point it didn’t seem like it would do any good. The girls were clearly aware of her feelings and trying to help. She was already a bad liar; there was no chance she could play things off.
“A friendship will last much longer than most relationships,” Camille said in her usual muted tones.
“Friendships can end, too. At least with a relationship you know you went for it,” Violet replied. “Plus, there are occasions when a relationship can lead back into a friendship. Thomas and I are all the closer for having dated, even after we didn’t work out.”
“That might be a bad example, I’m pretty sure he still carries the old torch for you,” Stella interjected.
“Nah, he just has a special fondness for me,” Violet said. Neither Stella nor Camille were sure if she was playing dumb or if she really didn’t notice the way Thomas’s eyes would linger on her when he thought no one else was looking. It’s possible not even Violet herself knew whether she was lying to them or herself. Regardless, nobody pressed the issue, instead turning the attention back to its original target.
“Look, Camille, we’re just trying to say that Vince has been single since the end of last semester. Now, while I don’t really get down on that whole overly-good-guy vibe, even I can see the boy is nice-looking,” Stella said. “Sooner or later some girl who does dig on that will come along, and then he’ll be off the market once more.”
“That’s okay,” Camille said reflexively. “It’s probably better that way.”
“Better for who?” Violet asked. “For him, because he’ll probably be settling for a girl not nearly as great as you? For you, because the guy you’ve been blushing over since last year will be out of your reach? The only clear winner I see in that equation is whatever chick manages to snap him up.”
“Vince wouldn’t settle. Whoever he ends up with will be the right girl for him.”
“And if the right girl is you?”
“It isn’t,” Camille said simply. She couldn’t explain to them just how amazing he really was, how he had been acting like a Hero since he was a boy. Camille couldn’t think of a way to make them understand that he was the kind of person who made the world better just by moving through it. Any girl he picked should be like him: she should be someone that lit up everything in her path with hope and light. She knew she wasn’t the right girl for him, because she could never measure up.
“Big talk,” Stella said. “I saw your face last year. I paid attention every time he pulled Sasha in for a tender kiss, or even just referenced having a girlfriend. I know it ripped you up inside seeing him with another girl.”
“I got over it,” Camille lied.
“Stella is just trying to point out that you seem to be setting yourself up for more pain if you don’t at least try.”
“I appreciate the advice, I really do. I just don’t see it happening, and I’m happier with things the way they are.”
“Have it your way,” Stella said, picking up another roll of plastic wrap.
“I guess we can’t force you. You are still going to come to the party. That much we can demand.”
“I do miss seeing you two, even with the relationship badgering.” Camille gave them a small smile to show her comment was meant in good fun.
“Well then, we’ll leave it be for now. I do want you to think about how you’ll react if he makes a move for you,” Violet advised. “Even if you prefer that things stay platonic, not even Vince is dense enough to fail to realize what an amazing girl he has right on his team.”
“I’ll come up with a plan,” Camille said. She would, too, however it would be a plan that also involved unicorns from outer space flying spaceships made of candy. After all, if she was going to plan for a ridiculous scenario, she may as well make it a fun one.
75.
The Friday before the party, Nick discovered a note in his locker with coded instructions. It took him less time to decipher it than it did for him to put on his sneakers. Mentally he made a note to talk to Professor Pendleton about upgrading the level of cipher he was using. It wasn’t that the note contained anything more than directions to meet him in a classroom within ten minutes, but it was the principle of the thing. If Nick was going to flex his brain, he may as well go for a full-on sprint rather than a light jog.
Professor Pendleton was reading at his desk when Nick arrived, some cheap paperback romance novel. One time, Nick had asked the teacher about his selections of literature. He’d been told that it was the only type of reading material supplied in prison and that once one developed a taste for it, the books were actually quite enjoyable.
“Rodrigo sweeping the widow off her feet?” Nick asked as he took a load off his own and slunk into a chair.
“He was, but now the local bank owner has come between them in an effort to win her for himself,” Professor Pendleton replied, carefully setting in a bookmark before closing his novel. “So, you ready for your midterms?”
“If my assessment of my own understanding is accurate, I should breeze through with at least a B in everything.”
“You know if you applied yourself you could be valedictorian.”
“And if Einstein had put his smarts toward women instead of physics he could have been knee-deep in trim. That’s not the way his priorities lined up, now is it?” Nick wore his usual cocky grin, however it was slightly subdued in these sessions. He kept in character – it was something he prided himself on - but with Professor Pendleton, he showed occasional bits of respect.
“Cute. That one take you long to think up?”
“Meh, about five minutes. Had it in the barrel for over a month, though. Thanks for the set-up.”
“My pleasure,” Professor Pendleton said. “And since you’re doing so well on your academics, I think you can handle a little something extra. I’ve called you in to talk about your midterm for my class.” While aboveground classes only lasted single semesters, the HCP ones ran the duration of a school year. This meant the winter break was only halfway through the term for most of them.
“I thought we weren’t getting anything from the HCP?”
“Most students aren’t. Then again, most students aren’t half-assing their way through the public portion of my class. This is especially pertinent when my class is the only one in which they stand a reasonable chance of advancing.” Professor Pendleton stood from his desk and opened one of the drawers on the side.
“Ah, so this is my price for our arrangement.”
“I’d prefer to think of it as extra credit to keep you even with the class.” He withdrew five pieces of stiff paper from the desk, each one a blank white square from Nick’s vantage point. Professor Pendleton crossed the distance between them and extended the papers. “Pick a card, any card.”
Nick began to reach out, nearly touching one before the professor slapped his hand away.
“Sunglasses off, if you don’t mind.”
“Got a problem with a little luck on my side?”
“I prefer to leave this up to genuine chance. No weighting the odds.” Professor Pendleton smiled placidly, his face indicating that this was in no way optional.
Nick sighed dramatically as he removed his shades. Looking his teacher in th
e eye, he reached out and grabbed one of the papers at random. A quick flip to the other side revealed only two words were printed on it: ‘Blake Hill.’
“Am I supposed to kill him?”
“Tempting, but no,” Professor Pendleton replied. He took the paper back from Nick and slipped it into the stack. After a brief walk over to the desk he deposited them in the drawer from whence they came. “It looks like learning about Professor Hill is your assignment.”
“What are you looking for: favorite color, if he cheats on his wife, where he buys his pants?”
“No, I want to really test your information gathering skills,” Professor Pendleton replied. “I want you to uncover the secret he keeps the closest to his heart. You’re going to find out his Hero code name.”
Nick let out a low whistle. “That’s not a bad one. I don’t have much to go on. He hasn’t even used his power in class yet; actually, no one besides Professor Stone and Professor Fletcher has.”
“Advanced mind is one of the more common abilities, so she has little risk in revealing what she can do. As for Professor Fletcher, well, I’m sure you can reach the obvious conclusion there. The rest of them guard the exact nature of their abilities to avoid someone doing exactly what I’m instructing you to do.”
“So is this above-board?”
“As above-board as anything in the Subtlety field ever is,” Professor Pendleton replied. “Information is our bread and butter; it’s what makes us truly useful. Sometimes doing a little research on a friend in the present is good preparation for a worst-case scenario in the future.”
“People call me a cynical bastard when I say things like that,” Nick said, a splash of bitterness discernible in his voice.
“Good for them. Better that only a few of us have to think this way,” Professor Pendleton slid into his chair and picked up the book once more. “You have until the end of January. Any questions?”
“If it’s a midterm why is the due date next semester?”
“Because it’s an off-the-books midterm, so I can set the deadline whenever I please. I thought giving you more time was a kind gesture.”