I’M SITTING ON THE couch later that afternoon, trying to watch TV, except that every time the commercials come on, there’s one about how “Son of Flash” pulled some strange aerial stunt today at the Annual Golden City Flying Competition, with more to come on the five o’clock news. And there are closeups of my face, but only while I was freaking out and looking crazy.
Then the front door opens and Gordon comes in, even though it’s a little early for him to be home from work, and I turn it off.
“I’ve been calling you all afternoon.” He stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “I saw the video.”
Which is exactly why I didn’t answer his calls, so he’d hopefully have time to get whatever crazy, misguided excitement he has over me following in his footsteps out of his system before talking to me about it. “It’s not what you think,” I tell him, even though I have no idea what he thinks. “I’m not… I don’t care about flying. I just needed to pass the flying test, so I can move on to second year.”
His smile falters, but then he nods, as if he knew that all along. “Second year. But how did you… You learned to fly without me.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Uh, yeah, you refused to help, remember?”
He winces. “I know, but… I’m so proud of you. The whole time I was watching that video, I held my breath, unable to believe what I was seeing. Someone at work showed it to me. Everyone was talking about it.”
“Great.”
“And with your… issues… with heights, I just couldn’t believe it. You really flew. Like a pro.”
I slide farther down into the couch. “More like someone who could barely fly at all, you mean. But I passed. Ted changed his mind, and I made him call the school before I left.” He said he was busy and would do it later, and I think he actually meant it, but I couldn’t take the chance. I got out my phone and started making a video of us, explaining to the world that he was my uncle, Ted Tines, and that we were super close and I just had to thank him for this chance to fly in front of everyone. A video I would never have posted—and in fact I deleted it from my phone as soon as I got out of there—but Ted didn’t know that, and he decided maybe he did have time to put in a quick call to Heroesworth after all.
“That’s great.” Gordon comes and sits down next to me. He starts to get out his phone. “Do you want me to call the school? To talk to them about your Advanced Heroism class? There might be something you can do to—”
“I already talked to them.”
“You did?”
“After the whole flying thing”—I wave my hand around in a circle, like it wasn’t a big deal—“I went down there and talked to somebody in the office. They said I can retake it over the summer and still start second year with everybody else.”
“Oh.” From the tone of his voice, you’d think that was a bad thing. He puts his phone away. “Summer school, huh?”
“Yeah, so if you had plans for some kind of family vacation, especially one that involves sleeping outdoors and hunting and gathering our own food, I’m so sorry to inform you that I’ll have to stay home.”
He laughs a little, but he still sounds upset about something. “I wasn’t planning anything.”
Good, because there’s no way in hell I’m missing out on three whole months of hanging out with Kat. “Then why do you seem disappointed? I know I screwed up by failing the test in the first place, and for failing Advanced Heroism—”
“Damien, you didn’t screw up.”
“I kind of did, though. And I get that this isn’t the ideal setup, but I figure one summer-school class is way better than dropping out or having to repeat first year.” Even if Riley won’t be there and I’ll theoretically have to work with someone else. Though I don’t think anyone else failed this class—just me, everyone’s favorite half villain who can’t cut it at hero school—so I’ll probably spend all summer working on the alternative assignment. But at least in September I’ll be back where I should be. “I’m not leaving Heroesworth, and I’m not falling behind. I thought you’d be proud of me.”
“I am.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
“Damien, I’m really proud of you for staying in school. For handling all of this. And for what you did today, with your flying. It was really something. You should be happy.”
“But you shouldn’t?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just… I wish I could have helped you. You needed me to teach you how to fly, but I turned you down.”
“You made the right call. It wouldn’t have worked out.”
“And obviously you didn’t really need me to, since you figured it out on your own. You didn’t need me for anything.” His shoulders slump.
I squirm in my seat. I pick up the remote, like I might turn the TV back on. Why is he saying this to me? Doesn’t he know it’s super awkward? “Dad… that’s not…”
“You’re so grown up,” he says. “You’re independent. You can take care of your own problems. It’s what every parent wants for their kids. I just wish I hadn’t missed out on the part where you actually needed me.”
He takes a deep breath, or maybe he just sniffled a little bit. Is he going to cry? I suddenly feel sick and like I really need to get out of here.
And I never thought I’d say this, but thankfully just then Amelia barges in. She flings open the front door, shouting, “Oh, my freaking God!” Then she drops her backpack on the floor and hurries over to me. “I saw the video. It’s all anyone was talking about today!”
That’s kind of terrible news, but I can’t help grinning at her. “I still can’t believe I did all that.”
“Your backflip could use some real work, and that’s not what the spinning part was supposed to look like, but oh, my God. You really did it!” She jumps up and down, squealing.
“Yep, and I passed the test this time.”
“I told everyone how I was your flying coach and how you couldn’t have done it without me.”
The smile on my face disappears. I clench my teeth. “You what?”
“Don’t worry, I only told Melissa and Hil. And Kim and Meghan—that’s Meghan-with-an-h, not the annoying one with the shirt who thinks she’s way cuter than she is—and Kylie and Chris and Mark and T.J. and Lucy.”
“I’ve never even heard you talk about most of those people.”
“And everyone in my Female Heroes of History class, because that was right after lunch, when everybody was watching it. And of course I showed it to Mrs. Cunningham, because she was really impressed with my superpower test, and I wanted to ask her if she thought I should start a portfolio for my work as a flying coach, because it’s never too early to start a portfolio. I think I read that somewhere. And then during Costume Design, a bunch of people came up to ask me about it—the video, not my portfolio, because I haven’t made it yet—and they wanted to know if it was true, if I’d really coached you, and I said—”
“You told the whole school!”
She shrugs. “They were going to see it anyway.”
“But they didn’t know I had to get flying lessons from my little sister. Who can’t even fly.”
“You taught him to fly?” Gordon asks, because he really was the one person on the planet who still didn’t know, apparently.
“We spent weeks training,” Amelia says. “We both worked really hard.”
“Seriously? I worked really hard. You just stood there and told me what to do.”
She sniffs in outrage. “Uh, that’s what coaches do. Supervising is hard work. It’s very mentally taxing, and I had to put together lesson plans and draw on my vast knowledge of flying videos. Plus, you weren’t the best student ever or anything. Maybe if you’d been more cooperative I would have had an easier time, instead of having to wrangle you into doing your lessons.”
“Wrangle me?! Amelia, you did not have to wrangle me. And I was the one risking my life and actually doing the flying.”
“You weren’t risking your life.”
“It felt like I was!”
Gordon gets up from the couch, still looking really down. “I’ll leave you two to figure this out.”
“Dad, wait.” I can’t let him go like this.
“It’s okay, Damien. I’m really proud of you. For all you’ve done.” He starts to leave again.
“Dad, I…” I ball up my hands and slide them under my legs. I can’t believe I’m saying this, especially with Amelia here. “I do need you, okay? Maybe I didn’t in the past, but that doesn’t mean I don’t now. You were really there for me, when Kat was sick. And when I didn’t know what I was going to do about school. You could have told me what to do, but you didn’t, because you trusted me to make my own decisions. And when you knew I was going to Kat’s, but you didn’t say anything, because… because you thought I didn’t want you to know. Maybe you don’t think those things are that important, but they are to me. My mom kicked me out, and my grandparents betrayed me, and everybody like that that I trusted let me down. I don’t need you to solve my problems for me, but I do need you to be there. To not do what they did. Because I”—I swallow—“I couldn’t take that.”
“Damien, I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod, even though I can’t quite bring myself to believe him.
He comes around to face me. “I mean it. Look at me, okay?”
I don’t. I can’t. I stare down at a worn spot on the arm of the couch.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gordon says again. “No matter what happens. And neither are you.”
“Until you change your mind.”
Amelia sits down on the couch like nothing’s going on. Like I’m not freaking out. “You can’t leave,” she says. “I already invested way too much time into you.”
I think she’s trying to cheer me up. She might actually be serious, though. I smile a little anyway.
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Gordon says. “I know it’s hard for you to trust that, and just saying it isn’t enough. I can’t prove it to you in a day, or even a year. Maybe, after what happened with your mother, I won’t ever be able to prove it to you. But I promise you, Damien, I’m always going to be here for you.”
I still don’t look up from the couch, but I nod again in acknowledgment. Because even if I can’t make myself believe him, I really, really want to.
Chapter 48
IT’S SATURDAY AFTERNOON, AND Kat’s home from the hospital, and I’m lying on her bed with her in her room. She still seems really tired, but at least her skin doesn’t look gray anymore, and she can stay awake for hours at a time now. The doctors said she should make a full recovery, but that after having to use her shapeshifting power that much for that long to fight off the poison, it’s going to take a little while for her to get her energy back. Which might only mean taking it easy for a few days, or it might mean more like a week, but either way, I figure we’ve at least got the weekend together.
Kat squeezes my hand. “Look, a giraffe.”
I squint up at the purple canopy over her bed. We’re cloud watching, or pretending to, anyway, since we’re indoors. “Where?”
“See?” She points at the fabric. “Right there. That piece of fuzz is its eye, and that swirl is part of its neck.”
“So, wait, it’s just a giraffe head? Not a whole giraffe?”
“The head and the neck. And that twirly bit—”
“It’s a hair.”
“Yeah, that piece of hair is one of its front legs. Your turn.”
“Dog in the corner pocket.” I point to the far end of the canopy. “It’s a German Shepard. A police dog, and it’s only one day away from retirement.”
Kat laughs. “I almost see it, but its head isn’t shaped right.”
“No, it’s just wearing a hat. One of those flat ones.”
“Ahem.” Kat’s dad clears his throat from the open doorway—because apparently we can’t be trusted, even though I spend plenty of time with Kat, alone, behind closed doors at her dorm—startling us both.
The bed squeaks as we sit up.
He looks us over, his eyes narrowing, like he thinks we might have been getting away with something somehow. “Can I get you anything?”
“Thanks,” I tell him, “but Mrs. Wilson’s already got my cookies-and-lemonade order covered. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
He glares at me, and I can practically see a vein popping on his forehead. “I was talking to Kat.” He looks at her. “And I still think you’d recover better alone.”
Which is his way of saying he wishes I wasn’t here.
“Dad,” Kat scolds.
“The doctors said—”
“The doctors said I shouldn’t get stressed out, but Damien’s not the one stressing me out.”
Her dad stands there, quietly seething.
“Here we are!” Kat’s mom says, sounding super cheerful, especially in contrast. “Fresh chocolate-chip cookies and homemade lemonade. Where do you want these?”
I gesture to the nightstand. “Just set them there for now. Did you bring four cups?”
“We only had three that matched the pitcher, but I can go grab another glass for you.”
“Nah, that’s okay. Me and Kat can share.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mary,” Kat’s dad says. “Don’t cater to him.”
“It’s no trouble.” Then, lowering her voice, “Leave them be, Tom.”
He looks away. “What do they need four cups for, anyway?”
As if answering his question, the doorbell rings downstairs.
“I’ll get it,” Kat’s mom says, giving her husband a stern look before hurrying out the door.
He tilts his head at Kat. “You already have one visitor.”
“Oh, my God,” Kat says, “how many times do I have to tell you? Damien’s not a visitor!”
“And now you have more? You’re not supposed to have people over.”
“No, I’m not supposed to tire myself out. Which I wouldn’t be if you’d stop arguing with me about everything! And Damien’s my boyfriend, and he saved my life. So stop trying to say he shouldn’t be here.”
“I wasn’t—”
“And you know what? Since you offered, there is something you can get me.”
“Really?” He sounds relieved to have an actual task to do. That or he wasn’t looking forward to finding a way to justify why he still doesn’t want me here even after I saved her life and he didn’t.
“I could really go for some hot-fudge waffles.”
“Hot-fudge waffles?”
“From the waffle place at school. You know, the one we went to when you guys came up for brunch?”
“That’s at Vilmore,” he says, stunned. “That’s a long drive.”
“But it would really make me feel better.”
“They’d be cold before I got back.”
“That’s okay—they’re good cold, too. Can you make sure we have some ice cream to go with them? And while you’re at Vilmore, can you stop by my dorm and get First Mate Suckers?”
First Mate Suckers is the stuffed pirate octopus I gave Kat for her birthday, back in November.
“I don’t know… It’s awfully far.”
Yeah, almost like she wants him to leave her alone for a couple hours.
“Please?” Kat says. “You said you wanted to do something for me.”
Riley and Sarah appear in the doorway. Sarah’s beaming at Kat’s room, but Riley looks super nervous, especially when he notices Kat’s dad.
“We’ll see about the waffles,” Kat’s dad says. Then he gives Riley and Sarah a really serious look and tells them, “Do not wear her out,” before finally leaving.
As soon as he’s gone, I feel Kat relax beside me.
Riley’s standing with his arms at his sides, like he’s afraid to touch anything. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to be here? Because it didn’t really sound like—”
“It’s fine, Perkins. And you can shut the
door.” I figure since Kat’s not alone with me, the open-door rule doesn’t apply. Though for all I know it’ll just make her dad suspicious that we’re having a foursome.
Riley closes the door, then stands there in the middle of the room, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to be here.
Sarah, on the other hand, can’t stop smiling. “It’s so great to finally come over. Seeing each other’s rooms is an important step in building a friendship.”
“Right,” Kat says, not sounding nearly as enthusiastic. “It doesn’t really feel like my room anymore, though. Not after being at school for so long. It’s going to be weird being back here this summer.”
“You can always come over to experience the familiar comforts of my room,” I tell her. Then, to Riley, I say, “Did you bring it?”
He nods.
Sarah grabs her backpack and pulls out two DVDs. One of them is Attack of the Killer Robot Zombie Slaves, which me and Kat have been trying to watch together for weeks, if not months. We were going to stream it, but we took so long getting around to watching it that it’s no longer available. So yesterday I was going to rent it, but I found a used copy in a bargain bin for three dollars instead. And I’m sure that it being in the bargain bin, or the fact that there were about five copies of it in there, had nothing whatsoever to do with its quality. The other people who got rid of it must not have been true connoisseurs of low-budget horror films and didn’t understand what they were passing up.
But anyway, I bought it super cheap yesterday so I could watch it with Kat, then forgot to bring it with me when I came over here. And there was no way I was going to leave and give Kat’s dad the chance to not let me back in. So since Riley and Sarah were coming over anyway, I asked them to pick it up. I did not ask them to pick up the other DVD they brought, which is the romantic comedy Amelia made us watch with her.
“Uh, I didn’t ask for that,” I tell them.
“Amelia forced it on us,” Riley says. “She wouldn’t let us leave without it.”
“Yeah,” Sarah adds. “She said it would make Kat feel better. We had to swear on our lives we wouldn’t lose it, though.”
Riley points at me. “So that means don’t lose it, X.”
The Phobia of Renegade X Page 36