“I thought you came here to see me,” Grandpa mutters.
“I did.”
“I mean to patch things up.” He stares down at his hands.
I can’t tell if he’s actually upset or just trying to make me feel bad. It’s not something I would have questioned before the gala, before he lied to me and almost got everyone I care about killed. A few months ago, I would have taken his actions at face value. But now? I want to believe he misses me and feels bad about what he did. I want to believe that I can trust him and that he’ll never do anything like that again. But want and can are two totally different things.
“There’s nothing to patch up,” I tell him. “You betrayed me.”
“So you’re only here because you think I have information.”
“No, I’m here because I know you do. Frank’s a criminal. You know about criminals. There’s no way you haven’t heard anything.”
“Only bits, here and there. Only enough to know you shouldn’t go anywhere near him. It’s too dangerous.”
“Why? Because I go to hero school?”
Grandpa looks me over, not answering right away. “Because you’re seventeen. And no matter what’s happened between us, you’re still my grandson.”
“You owe me.”
“Oh, yeah? So because you blame me for putting you and your friends in danger at the gala—”
“Blame you? It was your fault!”
“Because of that, you want me to give you information that will put you and them in even more danger?”
“This is different.”
“Because you think you’ll win?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “I won’t be there to save you this time.”
As if that’s even what happened. Lightning twitches up and down my back, but I keep it under control. I don’t want him to see how much he’s pissing me off. “Going into danger on our terms isn’t the same thing as being thrown into it on yours.” I take another sip of my lemonade, trying not to let my hand shake. “And what you owe me is the truth.”
“Alright, here’s some truth for you.” He leans forward and looks me in the eyes. “You don’t want to mess with Frank. Even if I don’t know a lot about him, I know that much. Now, you might not like how I run things, but at least I’ve got rules. They might not be the League’s rules, or the city’s, but they exist, and every good criminal follows them. I’ve got people to look out for, and people that I have to answer to if something goes wrong. But Frank? He doesn’t play by anyone’s rules. He does what he wants, no matter the consequences. He kills people, Damien. Anyone who gets in his way is fair game. Doesn’t matter if they’re hero, villain, or regular citizen. Even a kid like you—he wouldn’t hesitate.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? I tell you that if you go after this guy you’re going to get yourself killed, and all you can say is okay? Maybe you’re not listening. He doesn’t make ties with anyone. If you get in trouble with him, I can’t pull any strings to get you out of it.”
“I don’t want you to do that for me. I can take care of myself.”
“No one’s ever seen Frank and lived.”
I don’t need to see him, technically. All I need is proof that he took that painting. And since I don’t think he’d pose for a picture with stolen goods for us, completing this mission doesn’t need to involve ever being in the same room with him. Ideally, anyway. “I’m doing this whether you help me or not.”
“I’m sorry, Damien. Sorry for the ways I’ve let you down, but not for this. I can’t send my grandson after someone like Frank, knowing what might happen to you.”
I swallow. He sounds like he means it. “You going to chain me to the radiator again?”
“Damn it, kid. Maybe this doesn’t scare you, but it scares the hell out of me. And I’m not sending some stupidly fearless teenager after a hardened criminal who would kill you as soon as you set eyes on him.”
“Stupidly fearless?” I grip the edge of the table. My hands are definitely shaking now. “Stupidly fearless?!”
Grandpa leans back in his chair and looks down at me. “That’s right. I warned you how dangerous the gala would be, and, as you said, I even chained you to the radiator to keep you out of it. I did everything I could to keep you safe—”
“Except, like, not threaten my friends and family.”
“—and it still didn’t do any good. You showed up at that gala and almost got yourself killed.”
“I had to. Grandpa, I had to. You were going to kill everyone I care about!” Lightning sparks along my arms, but I don’t bother trying to hide it now. “Why can’t you understand that?”
“I do understand it. But I never meant for you to be in danger like that, and as soon as I told you about it, you went running toward it the first chance you got. I can’t watch you do that again with this. You’re young, and right now, you think you’re invincible.”
“Grandpa, I don’t—”
“Just hear me out. You think you can’t be hurt—or that you won’t be—and that everything will work out somehow, no matter how impossible. You think bad things only happen to other people.”
“Grandpa—”
“You can’t imagine getting hurt or not making it. You don’t know what it would be like to get yourself into a life-or-death situation and find you come up short. You think you’ll never be defeated, or that you’ll—”
“Stop telling me what I think!” I shout that at him, even though he’s only a couple feet away. I fling my arm out in frustration, accidentally knocking over my lemonade. We both stare at the liquid spilling over the table, shocked. I know I should get up and get a towel, but I have to say this first. “Ever since that gala, I’ve been nothing but afraid. Riley—my best friend—got hurt, because of me. He almost died. And even though I saved him, and even though I helped save everyone who was there that night, I can’t shake the feeling that I still failed somehow. Like maybe I did okay in that moment, but it was just a fluke, and next time… next time I really will let everyone down.”
“Damien—”
“No. I’m not invincible, okay? I know that! And I know I can be hurt, both physically and…” I clear my throat. “Everything changed after what happened at the gala. I used to love fieldwork, and now it’s the last thing that I want to do.” I wrap my arms around myself and stare down at the table. At the lemonade dripping onto the floor. “The people I care about could have died that night. And even though it was your fault, I’m not completely innocent. I helped you build up the Truth. I made people believe in it. And those superheroes would never have been shooting at him if I… If they hadn’t seen him with me.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Grandpa says.
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. It still messed me up. And Riley. And this mission, finding that painting, isn’t something either of us wants to do.”
“You don’t have to go through with it. You can work something out with that school, and if you can’t, you let me talk to them.”
I shake my head. “I can’t give up on this. I wish I still loved fieldwork, but I’m just terrified of it, all the freaking time. And I hate that. Maybe that means I’m not meant to do this, that I should just give it up, but it’s part of who I am. Or, at least, who I was. And if I walk away from it, then it’s like walking away from myself.” I look up at him. “I can’t do that. I won’t. And maybe it won’t work out, and I’ll let everybody down, or maybe I’ll succeed in this mission and still feel like I hate fieldwork. But at least then I’ll know. I’ll know that I’m really not who I used to be before the gala, and… and maybe then I can move on.”
“I’m sorry I caused all of that, Damien.”
“Some of it would have happened anyway.”
“But not like this. And not now, when you’re so young.”
“I’m not stupidly fearless.”
“No, you’re not. I almost wish you were.”
“I’m finding that painting, with or without your help.”
He gets up from the table to go grab a towel from the kitchen. When he comes back, he tosses it on the spill—which really doesn’t do much to clean it up—and says, “I don’t like this. I want to make that clear right now. But maybe there’s something to what you said, about facing danger on your terms. And I think you might be right.”
“About what?”
He sighs. “About me owing you this.”
Chapter 19
I GO OVER TO Riley’s house after I leave Grandpa’s. Zach lets me in. I haven’t seen him since Prom. At first, he looks relieved to see me, but then his expression turns worried. His eyes flick up to mine, then back down. His shoulders lift as he takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t actually say anything.
Guilt twists in my stomach. I should have come over sooner, or at least called. “Hey, Zach.”
“Hey.” He moves to let me in.
Riley must be in his room or something, because I don’t see him. “Where’s—”
“Riley’s here. I’ll get him.”
“Wait, Zach, I—”
“Riley!” he shouts in the direction of the hallway. “Damien’s here!”
“I know!” Riley shouts back from his room. His door is open, and I’m pretty sure he heard me come in. “I’ll be there in a minute! I’m on the phone with Sarah!”
“Tell her it’s rude to keep a guest waiting!” I shout at him.
“She says that’s ridiculous because you practically live here!”
“Not lately,” Zach mutters. I don’t know if he meant to say it out loud, because his eyes go wide in surprise, and he glances over at me.
It would be stupid to ask him how he’s been, right? Because, for one thing, it’s only been a few days since I last saw him—not, like, a year. And for another, it’s not as if I don’t already know. I told Riley about Amelia locking herself in her room and crying her eyes out all weekend, and he told me Zach pretty much did the same thing, except without the rom-com marathon. Though even without Riley’s secret intel, it’s pretty obvious that Zach’s not, like, having the best day ever or anything.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“For what?”
“For not coming by as much.”
“Oh.” He sounds almost disappointed.
“And… for you guys breaking up.”
He winces. “She won’t talk to me. I tried to call—a bunch of times—but she wouldn’t answer.”
I was there when she hit ignore on some of those. “She’s just upset.”
He takes a shaky breath, then nods. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t—I don’t want to be broken up.”
I know I told Kat I was going to try and fix this, but I don’t know what to say to that. “Zach…”
“She hates me now.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Not really.
“I just wish I could talk to her.”
“She’ll come around eventually.”
“But do you think she’ll take me back?” He gives me a really desperate, hopeful look.
I glance down at my shoes. “I don’t know.”
“Oh. Okay.” His voice sounds tight, like he might be about to cry. He swallows.
I consider barging into Riley’s room, despite him being on the phone. I mean, it wouldn’t really even be barging, since his door is open. And not just partially open, but all the way open. His conversation with Sarah couldn’t be that private.
Though if it is, I’ll be scarred for life and never be able to look either of them in the face again. But judging from the way Zach’s shoulders are starting to tremble, it might be worth the risk.
Oh, no. Now he’s putting his hands to his face. He’s sucking in a deep breath, and… Okay, now he’s actually crying.
And I’ve missed my window to run away from this situation without seeming completely heartless. I mean, I’m not heartless. I care about Zach. But I’m guessing that crying in front of me over breaking up with my sister wasn’t on his list of things to do today.
“Hey. Um. Zach.” Fine words of comfort if ever there were any.
He sinks down onto the couch and cries harder. His voice is squeaky and barely audible when he says, “Leave me alone.”
I probably should. All I’ve done so far is mess things up. But I can’t just walk away, so I sit down next to him. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved, then you two would still be together.”
“But you’re not the one who said that to Amelia. I did. She told me she loved me, and I said… I said…” He chokes up, unable to finish that sentence.
“I know what you said. But you wouldn’t have even been thinking about whether or not you loved her if I hadn’t said anything to you. So.” I put my hands on my knees, steeling myself for this. “I’m really sorry. For messing things up between you.”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t you.”
It kind of was, though. “I’m sorry I messed things up between us, then.”
“You mean because you started that fight, or you mean because now that me and Amelia aren’t… aren’t together anymore, then you and me can’t be friends?”
“What? No. I meant that first one. The fight thing. Not that I’m saying I started it, because I didn’t. It just happened. It was the inevitable outcome of me finding out that—” I get a hold of myself. Now probably isn’t the best time to remind Zach that not all that long ago he was thinking about sleeping with Amelia because she was his girlfriend and they were happy together and stuff. And there’s maybe also a teeny tiny chance that I really did start that fight between us, even if I think I kept pretty calm, all things considered. Okay, maybe calm isn’t the right word, but I could have freaked out even more than I did, so that’s something. “Just because you and Amelia broke up, it doesn’t mean that we did. I’m still your friend, Zach.”
“You… you are?”
“Of course I am.”
“Don’t just say that because you feel sorry for me. I know Amelia’s your sister, and you have to be on her side.”
“Being friends with you doesn’t make me not on her side.”
Riley joins us in the living room. His face falls when he sees that Zach’s crying, but he doesn’t seem that surprised by it. “Hey,” he says, sitting down on Zach’s other side. There’s not really enough room, so we both have to scoot over.
“I’m okay,” Zach tells him, even though it’s obviously a lie.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to be,” Riley says. “It’s okay if you’re not.”
Zach ignores him, looking over at me. “You thought Amelia was going to get hurt. That’s why you were so upset before, in my room. I get that now.”
“Zach, I wasn’t—”
“And if you were that mad at me just because you thought she might get hurt, then you must really hate me now that she did. So you don’t have to say that we’re still friends if we’re not. You don’t have to pretend.” He covers his eyes again as another sob shakes him.
Me and Riley exchange a worried look.
“It wasn’t just Amelia, okay? I was worried about both of you getting hurt. And now you did, and… It was stupid. How I reacted, I mean. And I know that what happened at Prom wasn’t on purpose. You didn’t even do anything wrong—you were just being honest with her.”
“I didn’t know that meant we had to break up. I thought that even if I didn’t love her yet, that it could still happen. And I don’t even know if what I said was true, because if I only cared about her a lot, then why do I feel like this?”
I look over at Riley, waiting for him to say something. He just showed up, and he hasn’t had to answer any uncomfortable questions yet, so I figure it’s his turn.
Zach looks over at him, too.
Riley realizes we’re staring at him. “What? What are you guys looking at me for?”
“You’re his brother. Impart your wisdom or something.”
“Me? You’re the one who’s been through this before.”
E
rg. Fine. “Listen, Zach, whether you love her or not, this is still going to hurt. And in retrospect, maybe you wish you’d said something different to her on Prom night. Because saying you loved her even if you didn’t probably seems way easier than feeling like this right now. But if you don’t love her, then you did the right thing.”
“And if I do love her?”
Then he really screwed up. But there’s no way I’m telling him that. “You’ll figure things out.”
“But what if I don’t? Or what if I do, but she hates me now, and I can’t ever make her not hate me? What if I ruined everything?”
“Even if you did, it won’t feel this bad forever. And… and even if Amelia never comes around, you’ve still got me.”
“Both of us,” Riley says.
Zach looks almost hopeful for a second, but then he shakes his head. “She’s your sister, though. If she decides she hates me forever, then—”
“It won’t change anything.”
He hesitates, like he’s almost afraid to ask. “You really mean that?”
“Yeah, I do. You’re my friend, Zach. And Amelia might be my sister, but you’re like a brother to me. And no matter what happens between you and her, I’m not going anywhere.”
Riley mashes the buttons on his controller to fight off the zombie horde that’s attacking us in the video game we’re playing. Zach was playing with us for a while, but his heart obviously wasn’t in it, and eventually he retreated to his room. “So,” Riley says, “did your grandpa tell you anything?”
“He said— Watch out!” I press the button to swing my ax at the zombie that’s trying to attack him. “He said nobody knows who Frank is.”
“What? How can nobody know who someone is?”
“Well, he’s not on Facebook.”
“But someone has to have”—he pauses while he fights off a zombie that managed to grab his character and is trying to eat his face off—“met him before.”
“Grandpa said nobody ever sees him and lives to tell about it.”
“Great, and we’re supposed to find him?”
The Phobia of Renegade X Page 13