The Rivalry of Renegade X

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  Gordon and Helen exchange a tired-but-knowing look. Helen sighs.

  “Ted,” Gordon says, “I’m sure it was just—”

  “Are you kidding me?! That boy should be punished. You shouldn’t have even brought him here in the first place! It took all of five minutes for him to attack one of my sons!”

  Gordon scowls at that. “Ted. Come on. You’re overreacting.”

  “Yeah,” I tell them. “I didn’t even zap him.”

  They all give me looks like that’s not helping, even though I think it proves I was on my best behavior. Because it’s not like I didn’t want to zap him. Or, you know, punch him in the face. But I didn’t do either of those things, which you’d think would earn me some points here, but apparently not.

  Helen puts a hand to her forehead. “What happened? Why did you spill pop on him?”

  “As if he needs a reason,” Ted mutters.

  Right, because I just go around spilling things on people all the time. Still, though, they’re all staring at me, waiting for an explanation. And I’m sure as hell not about to tell them I was sticking up for Amelia. Who has no idea her stupid cousins she’s been practically worshiping this summer were insulting her behind her back. And yeah, none of us wants to watch her dance videos any more than we have to, but it’s one thing for Nolan to doubt my abilities as a superhero and another for him to completely dismiss Amelia’s. As if him helping clean up one little section of the park one time makes him a more legit hero than her. He has no idea what she’s capable of.

  I’m wondering if I can get away with just shrugging and playing the sullen teenager card when Ted makes a disgusted sound in his throat and says, “I think it’s obvious what this is about. He’s jealous of my son’s award for being a real superhero, instead of just playing at it.”

  Helen grits her teeth, and Gordon’s eyebrows come together. “Ted,” Gordon says, “you know we’re all really proud of Nolan, but don’t you think that’s—”

  “We all saw the paper today, Gordon.” Ted waves his hands wildly at me while he says this. “Your son helps villains. Of course he does. You shouldn’t be letting him pretend to be something he’s not. Just look at the damage he’s doing!”

  Gordon’s mouth hangs open.

  Helen puts a hand to her chest. “He saved a puppy, for God’s sakes.”

  “We saved a puppy,” I correct them. “It was a group effort.”

  “He’s a menace to society,” Ted says, talking about me like I’m not standing right here, existing in his space. “You shouldn’t be turning a blind eye to it and letting him run around doing whatever he wants. And you shouldn’t have brought him to our family barbecue.”

  Helen looks like she’s about to punch him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gordon asks, sounding shocked.

  “He might have your genes, Gordon, but that doesn’t make him one of us. He’s not a Tines and he never will be, and we’d all be a lot better off without him.”

  The superhero diner is packed when me and Kat get there later. Not that there’s only one superhero diner in Golden City, but there is only one that serves the Son of Flash, a meal that was sort of named after me, except they got my name wrong and they made it meatloaf, which I hate. And if that wasn’t incentive enough to make this place the diner for us—which it’s really not—this is also where Riley’s been working for the summer.

  Which means he has to wear one of those ridiculous polyester superhero costumes complete with a cape that small children often step on on purpose.

  Riley looks pretty frazzled when he comes over to our booth. He’s kind of sweaty, and his hair’s sticking up, and he’s definitely not smiling, even though it’s supposed to be a job requirement.

  “What can I—” He pauses his spiel when he sees it’s us. Then he scowls and says, “What are you doing here, X?”

  “Is that any way to greet a customer?” I ask him.

  “I’ll have the Son of Flash,” Kat says, handing him her menu. “And a Coke.”

  “Kat. Stop ordering that.”

  “Why? I like it.”

  Riley writes her order down, then gives me a really serious look. “And you?”

  “I don’t know, Perkins. What’s good here?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this. If you need me to come back—”

  “I know you saw it. Zach told me.”

  “And you thought this was the right place to discuss it?” Riley glances over his shoulder, probably worried that he’s going to get in trouble, even though he’s only been here for, like, two seconds. And he is taking our order.

  “No, but we were hungry. The barbecue I was at got cut short.” Well, for us, anyway, since after Ted declared I wasn’t really part of the family, Gordon and Helen lost their appetites and said we were all leaving. Which is not the same thing as me getting kicked out, just for the record.

  “So you’re actually going to order something?” Riley gives me a skeptical look. “And not a ‘double water’ like you did last time?”

  “Hey, it was really hot out. And yeah, I’ll have the chicken-fried steak. With fries, not mashed potatoes. And a strawberry milkshake.”

  “Oh, me, too,” Kat says, her eyes lighting up. “I mean, about the milkshake. I’m still set on the Son of Flash.”

  I shake my head at her. Then I turn back to Riley. “When’s your break?”

  “Ten minutes.” He starts to say something else, but then one of his coworkers barks something at him and he takes off.

  Kat bites her lip. “I hope he got that I wanted both the Coke and the milkshake.”

  By the time Riley comes back on his break—sans cape, though still in his polyester diner uniform—our food has arrived, and me and Kat are busy stuffing our faces. Riley has a chocolate-banana milkshake he’s trying to suck down before he has to go back, and he immediately gives himself brain freeze.

  “Ow.” He scrunches up his face in pain. “Make it fast. I only have fifteen minutes.”

  “I don’t write the headlines.”

  “That’s it? That’s what you came here to tell me?”

  “I didn’t come here to tell you anything. We came here for lunch. But,” I add, when he starts to glare at me, “it’s not like I wanted them to say that.” Or to write an article at all. At least, not one like that.

  Riley rubs his face with his hand, possibly out of frustration or possibly because he’s still getting over the brain freeze. “It didn’t even mention us.”

  “Yes, it did. It said, ‘Son of Flash and friends.’ You’re the and friends part. I mean, it wasn’t in the headline, but it was in the main article. And if anyone should be mad, it should be me, because they didn’t even get my name right. It should have said, ‘Renegade X Helps Infamous Villain.’”

  He sighs. “I’m not mad, X. It’s just… That article makes us look like a joke.”

  “I don’t know. Zach was pretty excited about it.”

  “I don’t think it’s that bad,” Kat says, but her voice is a little high-pitched.

  Riley sighs. “It’s just frustrating. We’ve been doing superhero stuff all summer, and now this is what everyone’s going to remember us for?”

  “Hey, you just said it didn’t even mention you. It’s my reputation that’s on the line, right? And we’ve been doing hardly anything all summer, because you’ve been working so much.”

  He scowls at me. “And when I’m not, you’re always with Kat. Er, sorry, Kat,” he mutters, glancing over at her real quick. “And you’ve got that internship with your dad. So don’t act like I’m the only one with obligations.”

  “My obligation is in the morning and involves regular hours that don’t cut into prime superheroing time.” And the only reason I’m doing that internship is because it’s a requirement for my Advanced Heroism summer make-up class. It was either finding an internship with an actual superhero or going back to the alternative assignment, which was a giant binder full of real
ly pointless, hero-centric worksheets that involved way too many short-answer questions. I chose spending my mornings at the TV studio with Gordon, which mostly involves getting coffee for everyone and sleeping in the corner when no one’s looking.

  Riley rolls his eyes. “Except that you can’t stay out past one because you have to be up at six. And actually, you really shouldn’t even be staying out that late if you have to get up that early.”

  “Whatever. My point is, we can’t control the media. And the article is ridiculous anyway. We know we’re not a joke.”

  “And we saved a life,” Kat says.

  “Exactly.”

  Riley frowns. “But I don’t know, X. Don’t you ever get sick of people dismissing you like this? Because you’re not… you know?”

  “Not what, Perkins?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Not all hero?”

  “Or all villain,” Kat adds, taking a sip of her milkshake.

  I grit my teeth and splay my hands out on the table on either side of my plate. “First of all, even if I was all hero, I like to think I’d still be the kind of person who would save an innocent puppy.” Even if I would probably also be a douchebag. “And second, I’ve had some time to get used to people acting like idiots. I don’t care what they think.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “It really doesn’t bother you? Because this isn’t even the first time I’ve had people look down on me just for being associated with you, and it really sucks.”

  “Gee, thanks, Perkins.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.”

  Kat’s nodding along with that, like it’s a known fact that being me isn’t something to aspire to.

  “Our group isn’t all hero,” Riley goes on. “People know that. So, we’re never going to be taken seriously, no matter what we do. This article just proves it.”

  “I’m not going to be taken seriously, you mean. Because I’m not all hero.” Or all anything.

  He screws up his eyebrows, trying to find a way to deny it. “Well, that’s… I didn’t mean—”

  “No one’s ever going to see me as a real hero. Because of the X on my thumb.”

  “And because you blew up part of Heroesworth with your villain power,” Kat says. “And because of your involvement with the Truth.”

  I gape at her.

  “What?” She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not just because of your X and you know it.”

  “And that’s not what I was saying,” Riley goes on. “I just meant… We’re not a typical hero group.”

  “If you can even call us that,” Kat says. “We’re just as much villain as we are hero. Plus, there’s Sarah.”

  Riley nods. “It’s going to take time for people to come around and take us seriously. We’re going to have to do something big to prove ourselves. That’s all.”

  If being a not-all-hero group is anything like being a not-all-hero individual, we’re going to be trying to prove ourselves for the rest of our lives. But I decide not to burst his bubble by telling him that. “Great. Now that that’s settled—”

  “I should probably get back to work.”

  “I was going to say you should come to the movies with us tonight. You and Sarah. If you can handle being seen with me.”

  He tilts his head. “Weren’t you just saying we don’t spend enough time superheroing?”

  “I said you’re not available for it enough. I didn’t say we couldn’t have a night off.”

  “It’ll be fun,” Kat says. “As long as Sarah doesn’t get us kicked out again.”

  “She thought she saw someone stealing popcorn,” Riley says. “And I don’t know. I told my mom I’d help her clean out the garage when I got home.”

  I stare at him. “That’s how you’re going to spend your Saturday night? Seriously? And I thought Jeffrey was helping her.”

  Riley makes a face at the mention of Mrs. Perkins’ new boyfriend. Well, newish, since they’ve been seeing each other for a couple months now. “I said I’d do it, not him. And I don’t want him going through all our stuff.”

  “Fine. I’ll help you. And Kat—”

  Kat shakes her head.

  “—won’t be joining us. But Zach will. Anything to bask in the presence of a front-page celebrity.”

  Riley rolls his eyes at that. But then he grins and says, “The movies sounds fun. There’s this sci-fi one about—”

  “We’re seeing The Three Bears’ Revenge. It’s a horror-fairytale combo.”

  “I know what it is, and we’re not seeing that. No offense, but you guys have terrible taste.”

  “Hey,” Kat says.

  “Well, you do.”

  I give Riley a look. “Says the person who basically only watches documentaries.”

  “I don’t only watch those. You know that, X. And you guys picked the movie last time, and the time before that.”

  “Fine. I suppose you guys can… have a small say in our movie choice. Because I’m so generous.”

  He glares at me. “We’re picking the movie. And you’re not going to talk during it.”

  “Alright, but no convoluted sci-fi movies that need explaining every five seconds. And we’re still going to make out.”

  He makes a face. “I don’t need to know that. What you and Kat do is none of my business.”

  “Who said I was talking about me and Kat?” I grin and raise my eyebrows at him.

  Right as one of the other waiters passes by. He gives us all a weird look.

  Riley sighs in a really resigned way, much like Gordon and Helen did all the way home from the barbecue.

  Kat’s trying not to laugh. She kicks me playfully under the table. “You’d better be talking about you and Kat. And no rom-coms, either. I promised Amelia I’d go with her next week.”

  “What? Kat, no.”

  “You can come with us.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “And also I’m not sitting next to Sarah again. She hogs the armrest.”

  “True. You good with all that, Perkins?”

  “I’ll text Sarah and see what she says. And you’re not going to weasel out of helping with the garage.”

  I hold up my hands in innocence. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

  “I get off at four. Be there by four thirty. With all three of us working on it, we can probably be done by nine.”

  “By nine? Are you serious?”

  “Hey, you’ve seen the garage. And we don’t actually have to finish it all tonight. We just need to do enough that Jeffrey backs off and stops butting in where he doesn’t belong.”

  “You mean offering to help?”

  “No one asked him. He needs to learn to mind his own business.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I have to get back to work.” He takes one last slurp of his milkshake before sliding out of the booth. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “And in five seconds when you bring us the check. With your cape on. We happen to be superhero-themed diner connoisseurs, and only the best will do.”

  “Yeah,” Kat says, “we want the full experience.”

  Riley sticks his tongue out at us before hurrying off into the kitchen.

  Chapter 3

  MOM SIGHS WHEN SHE opens her front door and sees me standing there. It’s just me, since Kat had to go do some shopping with her mom, and I figured since I still have a few hours to kill before I need to be at Riley’s, I might as well get this over with.

  “Before you say anything,” I tell Mom, “yes, I did see the paper this morning.”

  “Damien, I don’t have time for this.” She storms off into the house.

  I follow her. “But you saw it, right?”

  “Of course I saw it. Your grandfather called me. Night Mask’s a personal friend of his.”

  A feel a small wave of relief at that. I wasn’t really sure what their reactions would be. Not that I care what they think. “Okay. Great. So— Wait, what are you doing?”

&nb
sp; She’s bent over, sticking her arms down inside the couch. “I’m looking for my earring. Ah. There it is.” She grabs it and quickly puts it on her other ear. It’s gold, kind of a fancy design, with a small pearl in the middle. And now that I look at her, I realize her whole outfit’s kind of fancy.

  “You’re awfully dressed up for the middle of the day.”

  “I’m meeting your grandparents at Juniper V’s. Your grandfather got us reservations.”

  “Juniper V’s? Isn’t that that place we used to go to?” Memories of going there with them as a kid suddenly fill my head, and I can’t help sounding excited. “The one Grandpa always got us into, because of his villain connections?”

  “Of course, Damien. We go every year.”

  “No, we used to go every year.” We didn’t go last year, because that was after Mom kicked me out and we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Or, at least, I didn’t go. I just assumed they didn’t, either.

  Before I can ask her about that, though, my half brother Xavier comes running into the room. “Mommy!” he screeches. “Daddy says I have to wear my nice clothes, but I don’t want to! Tell him I don’t have to!”

  She bends down a little so she’s at eye level with him. Xavier’s technically only eleven months old, but thanks to her crazy growth formula, he looks like he’s twelve or thirteen years old. She’s also been implanting fake memories into his brain at night in an attempt to make him seem even remotely like a normal person, which, in my opinion, isn’t exactly working.

  “Now, sweetie, you promised you’d be good.” And even though he looks like he’s almost a teenager, Mom still talks to him in a baby voice, or at least the voice you’d use to soothe a raging toddler. “Don’t you want to look nice today?”

  “I always look nice!” Xavier shrieks.

  Me and Mom both wince at his nails-on-a-chalkboard voice.

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “So, you guys still go to Juniper V’s, and you’re taking him? You’re going to get kicked out.” And probably banned for life.