Super Powereds: Year 3

by Drew Hayes

  That was true. Supper with Supers was a far more successful restaurant than any of the young students had realized. It had never made it onto their radar, but for many families, it was a delightful place to bring their children. It had even drawn some people Vince and Camille’s own age, young men and women still captivated by all things related to Heroes. Had things gone differently, they might have been among that group, but being in the HCP had taken some of the shine off the caped apple. They were being taught every day how Heroes were weighed down with far more than whimsical catchphrases and primary colors.

  “How do you like the waiting job, anyway?”

  “It’s pretty fun,” Vince said. “Compared to our normal schedule, it’s low-stress. Plus, I get to meet a lot of really nice people. The posing for pictures thing took some getting used to, though, I’ll admit that.”

  “That’s only families with children, right?”

  “Mostly,” Vince confirmed. “I guess the kids see a guy in a cape, even if he’s just a waiter playing pretend, and want to take their picture with him. I see the appeal, though. If I’d gone to a place like ours when I was young, I’m sure I’d have gotten a picture too.”

  Camille nodded and gave him a small smile. She’d seen the children asking to take their picture with Vince, and it wasn’t just because he was a waiter in a cape. Vince treated them with even more patience and kindness than he showed most people, which was saying something. He didn’t seem to realize it, but the other waiters were asked to pose far less often than him. Deep down, she suspected they could see what she already knew: their waiter was an authentic Hero. He just didn’t have the certification yet. That thought filled her with a heartwarming glow.

  “Although, that doesn’t explain the groups of adults that ask me to pose,” Vince continued.

  “Groups of adults?” Camille’s warm glow began to dim.

  “Yeah. Usually during late lunch; mostly women, now that I think about it. They always ask me to flex and stuff. Doesn’t happen often; in fact, I was so surprised the first time that I asked Brenda what our policy was on that. She told me the customer is always right, but she seemed to be giggling a lot when she said it.”

  Camille’s glow had definitely burned down to cinders now. “Vince, you don’t have to. Those women were . . . they were flirting with you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Vince told her. “I know it looks that way, even I understand that much, but I think the flirting was just an excuse. Deep down, I think they wanted to feel like those kids do, like they’d really gotten to pose with a Hero. They know I’m just a waiter in the same way that people who wear Santa outfits aren’t the real Santa, but that doesn’t mean you still don’t get a bit of that childhood thrill by pretending. Just for a second.”

  “That’s a sweet way to look at it,” Camille said, her glow somewhat rekindled. When one fell in love with an oblivious man, they had to take the trials that came with it. “But I think you just raised a point I definitely want to discuss.”

  “What’s that?” Vince asked.

  “Was that whole speech your subtle way of telling me that you still go get your picture taken with Santa?”

  89.

  Nicholas gave the approaching group a lopsided grin as they drew near, lifting his glass to them.

  “Old friends, I take it?”

  “Some are, some were just standing around and decided to tag along. Everyone likes making new friends, after all,” Mary told him. The group gathered around Nicholas, who was camped at a large table. Eliza and Jerome were a few seats over, both pretending to talk with one another.

  “I certainly consider myself in that margin as well. For any who don’t know, my name is Nicholas Campbell, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

  A tall man, rippling with muscle that was displayed thanks to his boxer costume, stepped forward and shook Nicholas’s hand. “I’m Roy. Good to see you again. You and I were never that close, but my brother Hershel considers you a good friend.”

  “Is your brother here?” Nicholas feigned looking around, waiting for someone in the crowd to speak up.

  “He’ll be around in a bit,” Roy replied, releasing Nicholas’s hand.

  Angela surprised everyone, especially Chad, by walking up and enveloping Nicholas in a giant hug. She held him there for a few seconds, then pulled slightly away. When she spoke, her voice quivered ever so softly. “Baby, oh my sweet man, do you remember me?”

  “I . . . no, I don’t.” The expression of shock on Nicholas’s face was quite possibly the first honest expression he’d worn all night.

  “You don’t? Even after everything we shared, everything we did, everything I let you do . . . . You’ve really forgotten me that quickly? You promised you’d always remember.”

  Most of the crowd stared in dumbstruck confusion, though Alice’s emotional state was tinged with a bit of bubbling anger; however, Angela’s boyfriend was unaffected by her spectacle. Chad stepped over and set a hand on Nicholas’s shoulder.

  “This is Angela, and I am Chad. I feel I should tell you that she is . . . I think the term is ‘messing with you.’”

  “Way to kill the bit,” Angela said, voice back to normal as she released Nicholas from her arms. “Yeah, we never really met or talked, aside from occasional chit-chat. Too bad though, you seemed like a nice kid.” With that, she tucked her arm around Chad and stepped out of the way.

  “I’m Alex,” the young man in the Captain Mal costume informed Nicholas. “We were pretty good friends.” He wandered off without saying any more than that. To do so would have been pointless; now that he was listening to Nicholas’s mind, he knew the lack of knowledge was a sham. Alex wasn’t going to blow it open, at least not yet, but he didn’t feel particularly obliged to play along either.

  “And you know me,” Mary said. She and Alice both stepped forward. “This is Alice, my dormmate and best friend.”

  “Your name is Alice, and you came dressed as Alice,” Nicholas noted.

  “Your name is Nicholas, and you came dressed as a gay cowboy prostitute,” Alice shot back. “Oh right, you don’t remember, but making fun of each other was kind of our thing.”

  “I cannot imagine I ever brought myself to insult such a lovely woman,” Nicholas replied.

  Behind his back, Eliza stuck her finger in her mouth to mime vomiting. Alice noticed and let out a short, sparkling laugh. “I’m guessing these are your friends, and I have to say, I already like the girl.”

  “Right, these are some old acquaintances: Jerome and Eliza. They are also pursuing a higher education at Lander.” If Nicholas felt any annoyance at being mocked from two sides (which he did), he kept it off his face like the professional he was.

  Jerome stepped out of his chair first, giving a nod to all of others gathered in the area. “Nice to meet you all. Any friend of Nicholas is a friend of ours.”

  “What’s the ‘ours’ there? Some of us have more discerning tastes when it comes to picking friends, so I’m not sure I’d give a blanket statement like that.” Eliza paused to regard the HCP students that had come to greet them. “But I guess this lot does seem pretty decent. Way better than your usual crowd, Nicholas. I’m Eliza, by the by.”

  “She’s spunky,” Angela noted. “Can we keep her?”

  “If it were in my power, I would happily hand her off to you,” Nicholas replied. This earned him a light elbow in the ribs from Eliza, which he chose not to acknowledge. “Now then, how about we all sit down and catch up a bit. I understand there are topics which cannot be covered, but I’d still love to know more about your lives.”

  “You guys have fun. I’m going to go take my boy on a ride around the dance floor,” Angela announced, grabbing Chad’s hand and heading off. He gave a weak wave as the duo exited, but no one blamed him for the departure. Trying to stand in the way of Angela DeSoto was like trying to argue with a tsunami: you could use all the words you liked, but in the end, you were still going to get bowled over.

/>   “They seem to be a very . . . interesting couple,” Nicholas observed.

  “It’s a weird match,” Roy agreed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “But they seem to get along well, so who knows. My mother taught me that you can never really tell from looking outside-in how a relationship works.” Roy neglected to mention that this lesson had been necessary after his father’s departure, both because he didn’t want to dwell on it, and because it seemed impolite to bring up at a festive time.

  “A keen insight,” Nicholas agreed. “So, Roy you said your name was, you mentioned your brother and I were close friends. I don’t suppose you’d care to elaborate on that. Within bounds, of course.”

  “Not much I’d care to discuss in a place like this, or at a time like now,” Roy said carefully. “When Hershel shows up, he can decide how much to chat with you about. But I’ll say this, whenever you would make the group watch a cheap horror movie, he would groan with the rest of them for show, but deep down, he loved the hell out of those flicks. My brother is all kinds of nerd, and he found it interesting that a guy like you, so different from him in so many ways, shared that same love for bad gore flicks.”

  “The love of fine cinema is a siren that calls men from all walks of life,” Nicholas replied. “It sounds like your brother and I both had the keen sense of appreciation to enjoy such films.”

  “Appreciation ain’t exactly what I’d call it, but seeing as we’re in polite company, that will have to do for now.”

  90.

  The slow song that Vince and Camille were hoping for never came, though a few songs with more choreographed, less tantalizing moves did manage to draw them out onto the dance floor again. In between those infrequent dance excursions, they sat around at one of the empty tables and talked. Nothing of tremendous weight was discussed, but they both felt like it was much needed conversation. Life had grown so heady and serious this year, it was nice to talk about nothing more than bad teachers and tough classes.

  After the last round of choreographed dancing—a simple melody that even Vince was able to learn within a few iterations—they found a set of empty stools and sat down to rest.

  “I think that might be it for me,” Camille admitted. Her heavy makeup was smudged at the edges from perspiration. As good as an HCP student’s endurance was, a giant floor packed with moving bodies would put off enough body heat to make anyone sweat. “Nice as it was to try dancing, I feel like I’ve effectively broken out of my bubble enough for one night.”

  “Ditto,” Vince agreed. “Plus, it would be good to see our friends some more. This is the first time I can remember in ages that the whole night has been simple and relaxed. I mean, it’s like that in Melbrook a lot, but that’s just the five of us.”

  “What you guys have is something special. I’m jealous; it would be nice to live in a place like that.”

  “You could have taken over Stella’s room,” Vince reminded her.

  Camille frowned, a sour expression on her usually sweet face. “I could have, but I didn’t want to live in a constant reminder that she wasn’t around anymore. I miss her so much already. If she could have seen me in this outfit, she would have just died of joy right there on the spot. Stella was always trying to get me to break out, even more than Violet.”

  “I’m sorry your friend is gone.” Vince patted her gently on the shoulder. Camille suspected his hand lingered for a bit longer than needed, but it was probably just wishful thinking.

  “No, please. I should say that to you. At least Stella has all the memories of our time together, even if she wouldn’t recognize that I’m the girl she had them with. Losing Nick must have been much worse.”

  “I don’t think anyone can, or should, rank loss. It just sucks, no matter the details around it. It’s an awful, awful thing.” Vince’s hands trembled, ever so slightly, in a way that only someone truly attentive or truly enraptured would notice.

  Camille did notice, and put one of her own small hands atop his, giving a slight squeeze. This was a hard topic for him to even brush against. In a different time, in a different place, she might have pressed on, but in a club on Halloween, it seemed like changing the topic was the best course of action.

  “Hey, Vince, would you grab me a water? I’m pretty parched after all the dancing.”

  “Huh? Oh, sure.” Vince hopped off the stool immediately, and Camille felt a small smile appear on her face. That was her Vince; the easiest way to redirect him was to give him someone to help.

  “I’ll stay here and hold the chairs. Seats are filling up pretty quickly.” Camille motioned to the area around them, which did indeed host an abundant lack of open seats.

  “Are you sure?” His tone was heavier than his words; it was evident the traces of their last topic hadn’t quite faded yet.

  “I’ll be fine, Vince. I might be small, but in this outfit, I should still be easy to spot when you come back. You never have to worry about losing me.”

  Vince stared at her for a moment, and Camille felt herself grow tense as he did. She wasn’t sure what he was about to do, whether it was hug her, thank her, or kiss her so hard she fell off the stool. That moment seemed to stretch onward, lasting for hours, even though she could count time in the steady beat of the music from the dance floor.

  In the end, Vince just gave a sheepish grin and nodded, then went off to get her water. Camille, on the other hand, put a hand to her chest and tried to steady her heart, which had suddenly begun to race.

  * * *

  Mary felt an unexpected kernel of relaxation begin to appear in her stomach, a break in the rock of worry she’d been carrying around ever since she first approached Nicholas. It had been scary— damn scary, really—to reintroduce her former friend to his old acquaintances. But it was necessary, as she saw it. She’d read his mind and knew there was a chink in the fog Professor Stone had thrown across his memories. Nick was still in there, somewhere, and it seemed like his friends were the best path toward getting him out. Of course, dealing with Nicholas was still incredibly dangerous, so the sight of him toeing the line gave her a slight sense of ease—she knew that man’s mind too well to ever truly lower her guard.

  Still, things were going well. Everyone was talking and joking, neither Nicholas nor his friends had pushed for any HCP secrets, and the tension the group had felt upon first seeing Nicholas was slowly dissipating. It didn’t hurt that Eliza and Jerome were both affable as well—he stoic and polite, while she was rowdy and comical.

  “Hey, Mary, I’m going to go get a drink. You want to come with me?” Eliza asked. The question seemed out of the blue, unless you’d been listening to her thoughts, which Mary had.

  “Sure, I could go for a water,” Mary agreed. The two women rose from the table and headed down toward the bar. Had it not been concealed by a red-and-yellow striped hat, they’d have noticed a head topped with spiky silver hair heading in the same direction.

  “Thanks for coming with,” Eliza said, once they were out of earshot from the others. Her flippant tones had dulled, though not vanished. Unlike with Nick, this seemed to be a genuine part of her personality. “I just wanted to see how we’re doing. Nicholas was pretty insistent we make a good impression. If it’s going bad, Jerome and I can vanish.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “Well . . . I mean, if we don’t make the cut and he does, then at least he can still be around his friends.”

  Mary was surprised by the emotion behind Eliza’s thoughts. “You’re worried about him?”

  The cat-masked woman shot the small girl a striking glance. “Damn that is inconvenient. Yes, though I’ll deny it to his face. Nicholas and I have known each other since we were sixteen. He’s an ass, always has been, but these last few years, he was . . . less of an ass, I guess. Whatever you people were doing to him, I didn’t loathe being around him as much. So if I’m screwing up his opportunity to get some of that back, I’ll get scarce.”

  “Even though you’re supposed t
o watch him?”

  Eliza grinned, an appropriately cat-like expression. “I’m supposed to watch out for him. If I deem this in his best interest, then that seems like good looking out to me.”

  “You two really are from the same town,” Mary sighed. They arrived at the bar, still thick with patrons, and began the process of waiting for a drink. “You’re fine. Now that I’ve had time to thoroughly vet you both, I don’t mind if you stay around.”

  “Thank goodness,” Eliza said. “Does that mean I can lose this stupid mask? The rubber has been biting into my cheek for hours.”

  Mary giggled softly in spite of herself. “Go ahead. I think you’re safe to show your face.”

  Eliza peeled the cat mask away, revealing her lovely face and causing her dark, curly hair to cascade as she pulled the mask back through it.

  The sound of shattering glass filled the air. Both girls glanced in the direction it came from, to find a tall, fit young man in a red-and-yellow striped cap staring at them. At his feet were what had once been two pint-glasses filled with water and ice. He had no eyes for the potential tripping/slicing hazard, though, nor for anything else in the bar.

  “Vince?” Mary asked, suddenly concerned. He’d lost control a few times before; it was possible something was about to go down.

  Vince paid her no mind, if he even heard her. His eyes were locked on Eliza, who Mary suddenly realized was staring right back at him. A single word escaped him, as desperate and fierce as a spaceship racing away from a collapsing star.

  “Thief?”

  91.

  It has been established previously that, while a fun exercise in thought, there is no such thing as an unstoppable force or an immovable object. However, had one been in attendance at a bar called Dashabout, located near Lander campus on Halloween of a particular year in question, one might be tempted to disagree. While there might not have actually existed such a thing as an unstoppable force, merely forces that were difficult to stop, the difference was purely academic to the people standing between Vince Reynolds and Eliza Tracey.