by C. C. Ekeke
Kendall made a face like this wasn’t surprising. “Who wouldn’t wanna be you?”
“Right?” Brie agreed without irony. “At lunch, I’ll give her a fake fashion label where I bought this top. I bet her thirsty ass will search for a week!” They giggled fiendishly. Brie then griped about Jordana’s obsession with her rescuer from this summer. “It’s like she’s never met a hot guy before.”
“She dated DeDamien?” Kendall asked. “He’s hot.”
“Not even!” Brie snapped. “DeDamien’s a cheating, wannabe thug.”
The more Hugo listened to Brie, the sicker he got. She is awful.
During her badmouthing, Hugo noted how Brie stayed aware of who entered the classroom and any open seats. Like she was expecting somebody. Or avoiding me.
When the bell rang to signal 2nd period’s start, Mr. Allocco shut the door.
And Brie looked so…dejected. Her sadness vanished when she eyed Kendall’s extra muffin. “Fine. I’ll eat your devil food. I’ll need to do like 80 extra backhands in tennis practice to work it off…” In mid-bite, Brie’s eyes found Hugo. The muffin slid from her dropped jaw onto her desk. Hugo tensed with bizarre anticipation.
Instead, Brie looked away and cleared her throat. Kendall watched her in confusion. “What?”
Brie subtly nodded at Hugo.
“OH. Tall, dark and Asian in the back? Chiseled AF?” Kendall purred. “I low-key eye-fucked him when we came in.” Hugo gulped, having missed said eye-fucking.
Brie gave him that brief but thorough up-and-down assessment of hers whenever spotting a cute guy. “Yum. That body’s doing him all kinds of favors.” She whistled. “Maybe he’s an undercover cop like that Channing Tatum film?”
She doesn’t recognize me, Hugo realized. Of course not. Brie hadn’t seen him all summer. In her mind Hugo was still a short, long-haired loser. He clenched a trembling fist, fuming once again.
Kendall glanced over her shoulder. “Or some bad boy transfer from the mean streets of San Diego.”
Hugo chuckled despite his stewing anger.
Brie snorted, shaking her head. “Your fifty shades of grey is showing, Kenny.”
Mr. Allocco stood before class, signaling for quiet. After a quick headcount, he looked to Hugo and beamed. “Finally, our class is complete,” he boomed. “Welcome, Bogota!”
From the corner of Hugo’s eye, Brie’s head turned so fast she probably got whiplash. He forced a smile, wagging his finger. “Hey, now!”
Mr. Allocco winced. “Hugo, sorry,” he revised. “I’ll get it right next time. Glad you’re here.” He went about discussing today’s US History topics.
Shuffling movement and shocked gasps ensued. Hugo fought the urge to sink into his seat as the entire class turned for a better look. Only Simon’s outburst of laughter made this bearable.
Mr. Allocco frowned at him. “Something funny, Mr. Han?”
Simon nodded. “Very.”
“Care to share with the class?”
“Not really.”
After composing himself, Hugo dared another look in Brie’s direction. She and Kendall openly gaped. Brie’s slack-jawed surprise became a WTF glare as she threw her hands up in outrage.
Hugo turned away like he didn’t know her. Because honestly, I don’t.
As Mr. Allocco continued discussing more current events, Hugo heard staggered whispers about his appearance. The speculation would only worsen once word spread beyond this classroom.
“That’s Hugo?” Kendall murmured in disbelief. “When did he get hot?”
“During summer, obvs,” Brie replied distractedly. “I don’t know where to look because he’s got so many muscles. Making my brain hurt.” By the rapid-fire drumming of her fingers, Brie was clearly texting.
Shockingly, Hugo received a text. He pulled out his phone.
Brie: FUCK. OFF. WHEN?! HOW??!!
Three days ago, Hugo would've jumped through hoops to placate her. No more. Seething, he deleted the text and stuffed the cellphone in his pocket. Brie gasped in outrage, drawing Mr. Allocco’s attention.
“An Algebra 2 assignment slipped my mind,” she lied.
“Worry about that after US History, Ms. El-Saden,” Mr. Allocco replied, drawing laughs.
Simon’s well-timed “Haw-HAW” was perfect. Brie glared at him with pure loathing.
Hugo focused on Mr. Allocco the rest of class, ignoring Brie’s subtler tries for his attention and her all-caps, pay-attention-dummy texts. Thankfully, Mr. Allocco’s class was interesting.
As soon as 2nd period ended, Brie made a beeline for his desk. But Hugo was already out the back door before she left her seat.
During the fifteen-minute snack break after 2nd period, word boomeranged across the sundrenched quad. Hugo heard disbelief, amusement and mockery from fellow sophomores like buzzing beehives. Baz and his assholes already concocted two nicknames; “Roid Freak” and “Golden Boy”. Brie and her squad clucked amongst themselves while teasing Jordana, who remained in a state of embarrassment. Others pushed conspiracy theories over whether it was actually Hugo…or if he had superpowers.
That paled before the schoolwide gossip over Titan’s manwhoring.
Hugo tuned everything out and went near the track field with Simon. Far from the quad and any eavesdroppers, he discussed the Accelerator and Lady Liberty encounters.
“One,” Simon stated afterward. “Holy crap!”
“Right?” Hugo agreed, finishing his Doritos. Remembering the damage he’d caused had made sleep a challenge for two nights.
“Two.” Simon’s face creased as if smelling bad milk. “The Accelerator? What a shit codename!”
Hugo laughed. Another reason him and Simon were best friends. “Exactly what I said before kicking his ass.” His smile faded recalling the speedster’s insults. “But having no codename? Equally bad.”
“We’ll choose one tonight,” Simon reassured him, patting Hugo’s shoulder. “Three, how hot is Lady Liberty up close?”
Hugo gave Simon an angry look. “Dude. I was too busy getting punched in the face.”
Simon winced. “Right. What now?”
“Lay low until Lady Liberty stops patrolling San Miguel so much.” Hugo stood up. “She’s seen my face.” Lady Liberty might’ve logged him into OSA’s system. The idea made his blood run cold.
Simon went wide-eyed. “Got it,” he agreed, also standing. “Then what?”
Hugo wondered that himself. Between Lady Liberty’s threat, telling Mom he was done superheroing, and Titan’s image being a lie, there was lots to unpack first. Or if I should even be a superhero… “We’ll see when we see,” Hugo finally said. Five minutes before snack period ended, they headed back to Paso High’s main nexus of buildings.
Then Hugo spotted him several yards away near the baseball stadium. He looked just like Hugo remembered two months ago. Strapping and above average height, buzzed blond hair, disbelief etched into his generic good looks. He looked unsure whether to approach or retreat.
Hugo stiffened. Simon didn’t know what had happened at Liberty Park. Nor would he.
“I got an errand before 3rd period,” Hugo lied. “See you at lunch?”
“Sure.” After exchanging fist bumps, Simon headed for the main buildings.
Hugo walked in the opposite direction. The blond teen followed. Hugo heard the boy’s heartbeat racing several feet away. Understandable.
Soon, they were face to face. Hugo stood a couple inches taller. “Brent,” he greeted stiffly.
Brent Longwell gawked as if Hugo had three eyes. The Samoan was over that reaction.
“Hugo,” Brent replied breathlessly, keeping his distance. “Hey.”
Hugo watched him, feeling only gratitude. The way he’d learned of Brent's integrity had sucked. Hugo took off his sunglasses, hanging it on his collar and extending a hand. “Thank you. And the check-ins afterward were appreciated.” He’d seen Brent’s Escalade parked across from his house a few times the first two week
s after Liberty Park.
“I wanted to see how you were,” Brent explained with a firm handshake. He looked haunted, sad. “I didn’t know what to say. I’m a coward.”
Hugo shook his head and smiled. “You’re no coward.” He was the only one of Baz’s asshole friends with a soul. Speaking of which… Hugo remembered Brent’s absence when Brie publicly flayed him in front of her friends. He pushed the ugly memory away. “Flying solo?”
Brent nodded, wiping away budding tears. “Haven’t hung out with those assholes since that night.” He sighed heavily. “I’m done tolerating their shit.”
Hugo thought of how he’d ignored Brie's mean girl behavior for years. No more. “I know what you mean.” He glanced at his cellphone. Three minutes until 3rd period Geometry. Ugh, should've stayed home for that. Hugo studied Brent’s aimless expression. An outcast for doing the right thing. “Wanna grab some churros real quick?” he suggested.
Brent looked surprised and pleased by the invitation. “Totally.”
Chapter 29
“There!” Quinn pointed to the tiny dot appearing in the burnt afternoon skies. Helena, Shelley, Benjamin Crane and others followed her finger. Anticipation rippled through the greeting party standing outside in the Vanguard HQ courtyard. The reporter grew giddier as the dot grew larger and closer. Seraph, I owe you big time.
She turned to see Colin's reaction as he filmed, and didn’t.
Then Quinn remembered why.
Colin had been fired from SLOCO Daily four days ago. The camera that filmed Robbie Rocket and Jono’s dialogue had been one of his. Leaving gear lying around wasn’t like Colin, as he’d stated. No matter. Quinn felt angry again. Especially since Jono didn't get fired.
A whoosh of air startled Quinn back to the present as her interview subject dropped from the sky.
Lady Liberty’s superhero landing was renowned, touching down on one knee, one fist on the ground. Then she’d rise with an elegant toss of her brunette bob.
Lady Liberty was a stunning and statuesque five-foot-eleven, her red suit displaying ample amounts of leg. The silver tiara atop her head glittered in the afternoon sun. Lady Liberty resembled some goddess from myth. She offered everyone a generous smile, as if the gesture was a gift. Even Helena, who’d cut her teeth as a Middle East war correspondent, stood dumbstruck.
Quinn gathered her wits and approached. “Thanks for coming.” She offered a hand. “I know you’re busy.”
Lady Liberty accepted Quinn’s handshake, standing a head taller. “Glad to help,” the legendary hero said, her voice pregnant with confidence. “Seraph told me how important this was after the leak.”
The leak… Quinn winced at the pointed reminder. She gestured Lady Liberty forward. “This way please.”
The superhero, gracious and smiling like benevolent royalty, greeted each person like an old friend. Compared to Vanguard’s roster, she kind of was. Helena’s Cheshire smile was on full display when greeting Lady Liberty, though she kept her fangirling muted.
The group headed inside to a room prepped for this interview.
Unlike previous Vanguard interviews, Helena would be joining Quinn. She was annoyed, yet understood. Benjamin Crane and other grim-faced flacks hovered off-camera, scrutinizing every facial twitch. Not only was Lady Liberty a huge get, this was her first public response to the leaked video alleging Titan’s litany of sexual escapades. Within days, the growing number of women claiming to have bedded Titan had become ridiculous.
Quinn dialed up today’s attire, wearing a yellow polka dot on black short-sleeve blouse with maroon pencil skirt. Helena wore another sports coat/jeans combo, with a Remember the Titan t-shirt. Pander much? Quinn mused, but she didn’t dare provoke her. Helena’s mood today was pitch-black.
She and Quinn had a list of topics pre-approved by Benjamin Crane, leaving little adlibbing room. A nervous Shelley did thorough camera checks, so anxious that Lady Liberty offered calming words. The videographer, while capable, wasn’t Colin. Quinn pushed away a spasm of sadness and re-reviewed her questions.
Once Lady Liberty sat across from the two reporters, the interview began. Quinn couldn’t not stare at her olive-toned flesh; smooth, unblemished and without slack. Lady Liberty looked the same as when her career started over two decades ago. Her costume, the tiara, her dark amber eyes. The superhero literally shone from head to heel, even though she wasn’t radiating visible energy.
Quinn found her agelessness very distracting.
She and Helena worked well together, starting with Lady Liberty’s pre-Vanguard background. The superhero was precise and eloquent, revealing nothing unheard in past interviews. Little was known about the “Glorious Glamazon’s” origins besides rumors of a mystical gemstone from the Amazon granting her powers. Whatever her definitive origins were, she remained as much an enigma as before.
Quinn and Helena’s questioning reached Titan sooner than expected. “You knew him better than anyone,” Helena said crisply, sitting stick-straight. “Who was Titan to you?”
“Complicated,” Lady Liberty said after a moment of thought. She crossed her legs elegantly. “But selfless and unwaveringly decent. Despite his flaws, Titan tried to do right by society.”
Quinn’s hands were shaking before her question, as it reached the meat of this interview. “And your take on these allegations?”
Lady Liberty’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, sending chills through Quinn’s spine. That kind of smile made the reporter feel like no one would miss her if she died.
“Titan and I were a couple who loved one another,” Lady Liberty said. "But we strongly differed on fidelity. Part of the problem was how ubiquitous he became, even when we both first joined the Vanguard.”
She acknowledged their relationship. That should've been a win, yet Quinn felt so dirty.
Lady Liberty shook her head, that beautiful face relaying the right amount of nostalgia and sadness. “Everyone wanted a piece of him nonstop. That level of notoriety can be intoxicating, overwhelming and corrosive, even with someone who understands our life.”
“You said that was part of the problem.” Helena chimed in, expertly following up on Lady Liberty’s answer. “And the other part?”
The superhero gave the veteran journalist a less frigid look. “Two parts, actually. One, no matter how hard Titan tried, there was no way to fill the hole from what he’d lost. His wife, his two children, his whole Tribe. All gone in a mushroom cloud.” Lady Liberty looked pained by the recollection, despite not having suffered it. “The fame, the rescues, the quick and painless love from countless horny women filled that hole, but never permanently.”
She shifted in her seat. “And the next part, Titan had opened his heart to someone before me, believing she was his forever. That individual used him for professional and financial gain.” Lady Liberty’s features darkened in disquieting hatred. “Titan never recovered from that vulgar betrayal.”
Quinn exchanged wide-eyed looks with Helena. They both knew that someone was Rebecca Reyes. This was getting good. “Was splitting with Titan why you left the Vanguard in 2006?” Quinn asked.
“Partially.” Lady Liberty’s features relaxed and her benevolent demeanor returned. “Even though we kept a solid public face for the team’s sake, having no distance from each other sometimes got quite ugly. But the main reason I left was emotional health.” The superhero shrugged, looking like a normal wearied woman. Yet she was anything but. “I was burnt out and needed to not be Lady Liberty for a while. But I kept working with my non-profit behind the scenes to help those in need.”
“We’re glad you returned. Especially now,” Helena stated gratefully. “When you came back in 2010, you and Titan teamed up frequently. Had you both reached an accord in your relationship?”
Lady Liberty nodded, stroking the back of her head. “Business and personal. We work…worked well together.” Her voice caught as she corrected herself, conveying enough subtle pain to pull at Quinn’s heartstrings. No doubt th
e audience would feel the same. “We were friends before we were lovers, and part of me will always love him, his decency, his capacity for good.” Lady Liberty shook her head with a sad smile. “Those feelings just don’t disappear.”
The conversation steered toward her favorite team-ups with Titan, when they first fell in love. Lady Liberty grew animated during the trip down memory lane. She obviously still loved Titan. And her depiction painted a beautiful picture of a flawed, godlike man trying to protect the world as best he could.
Quinn internally cringed asking her next question. “Can you address Robbie Rocket’s claim about Titan wanting to quit being a superhero?”
Lady Liberty laughed like a mother would at a child doing something both adorable and dimwitted. “That Robbie Rocket. So many words. Such scant importance.” Her lighthearted dismissal of Rocket made both Quinn and Helena burst out laughing. She waited with a patient smirk as both reporters composed themselves. “Titan and I had many discussions about that before his death,” Lady Liberty stated. “He was exhausted and unsure of his place in this modern age of heroes. But I don’t think the Titan I knew had it in him to leave superheroing behind.”
Quinn liked Lady Liberty before this interview. Now, she planned on worshiping her alter and joining the Liberty Legion. Helena looked more starry-eyed than before. Such class, wit and composure. Hence why Quinn almost didn’t ask the off-script question gnawing at her gut. But she had to. “Lady Liberty, one last question,” she blurted out right as Helena was wrapping things up. “About Lord Borealis.”
A pin drop could’ve been heard on set. Helena leveled a cold glare at Quinn.
Lady Liberty’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What about him?”
Can’t retreat now. Quinn inhaled a deep, steadying breath. “We’re several weeks removed from his arrest. You and Lord Borealis have history during his previous stint on the side of good. Can you say with full certainty that he killed Titan?”
Lady Liberty stared at her for a long moment, unblinking and unsmiling. So long that Quinn soon grew uncomfortable under the withering stare. “One hundred percent,” she stated decisively.