“There’s no way we’re not going over to Sarah’s tonight.”
“But—”
“Just tell them you’re not feeling well. Then turn invisible and climb out your window.”
“Come on, X. I can’t just leave. What if my mom finds out?”
“She’ll probably be happy that you’re doing something rebellious for once. Either way, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Chapter 6
SARAH LOOKS ME OVER after we get to her house. Then she shakes her head. “It wasn’t you.”
“Well, great. I’m glad we cleared that up.” I roll my eyes at Riley.
“It was you,” Sarah says, squinting at me. “But it also wasn’t.”
I sit down backwards in her computer chair. “It was definitely not me. It must have been, I don’t know, a shapeshifter or something.” It’s not like Kat’s the only one in the world.
“He was wearing different clothes.”
“Right, because this impersonator doesn’t have access to my wardrobe.”
“And his hair was different, but only a little bit. When I first saw him, I thought you’d just gotten it trimmed. But obviously you didn’t. And he smelled weird.”
“Weird?”
“Better,” she corrects herself, thinking it over.
“Gee, thanks.”
“It was some kind of aftershave or body spray or something.”
“So, we know this impersonator was a douche, then. And how could you even think it might have been me? I mean, he didn’t kiss like me, right?”
“X!” Riley glares at me.
“What? It’s a valid question.”
Riley sits down on Sarah’s bed. He fidgets with a string hanging off the end of her night-sky bedspread.
“Actually,” Sarah says, “he did kiss like you.”
“See, Perkins? It’s— Wait, he what?”
“Well, mostly like you, only—”
“Sarah, do not say he was better.”
She shrugs. “Well, he was.”
Riley’s eyes are wide. “I can’t believe this.” He checks his phone for about the millionth time since we left his house, in case his mom’s figured out that he’s gone, which she hasn’t.
“This doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone impersonate me?” I mean, I can think of some reasons, but kissing Sarah isn’t one of them.
Sarah chews her lip a little, then speaks slowly. “I don’t think he was impersonating you.”
“Uh, that’s what it’s called when you pretend to be someone you aren’t. And whoever he is, he’s not me.” I don’t know how many times I have to say that.
“The thing is,” Sarah says, “he might have looked like you, and he might have even kissed like you, but he wasn’t really acting like you. When I answered the door, he just kind of stared at me.”
“Creepy.”
“Well, maybe not stared. Gaped? It didn’t feel creepy at the time.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you thought it was me.”
“And then he said, ‘Sarah, I’m so glad to see you!’ and threw his arms around me, and— You know what? His ribs didn’t really dig into me as much as yours do, and his arms were a little more toned.”
“Great.”
“And then he kissed me. And it was like you, but not, and like he really meant it. But I didn’t kiss him back, and he could tell I was really startled, and then he said, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ and ran off.”
Riley glances up at me. “She’s right, X. That really doesn’t sound like you.”
My stomach twists a little. “So it was a really bad impersonator.”
“Your mom’s never mentioned you having a secret twin brother or anything, right?”
“Nope.” Not that I’d put it past her to keep something like that a secret, though. “But why would my hypothetical long-lost twin even know Sarah?”
Sarah’s forehead wrinkles as she considers that. “Maybe he saw those videos of us at Homecoming.”
“You mean the one where you pointed a raygun at me? Yeah, that just screams kiss me.”
“Okay, not that. But—”
“Sarah, the media’s been taking pictures of me for months. If I actually had a twin, even a secret one, they would have taken pics of him by now, too. We’d know about him already. And it still wouldn’t explain why he’d come to see you instead of me.”
“Maybe he’s a clone,” Riley says.
I look at Sarah. “Tell me you didn’t.”
She adjusts her glasses. “Didn’t what?”
“Tell me you didn’t make a clone machine or whatever and, like, clone me. Because maybe that’s why he was so happy to see you, if he knew you created him.”
Sarah rolls her eyes at me. “He wouldn’t magically be the same age as you. That’s not how clones work.”
“My eleven-month-old brother looks like he’s twelve.”
“Well, okay, then maybe he could be the same age as you, if he existed. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”
“Pretty sure because you, like, didn’t invent a cloning machine and secretly test it out on me?”
“I don’t have a cloning machine. Not yet. Maybe someday, when I’ve done the proper research and have more funding. But I can’t guarantee that somebody else didn’t clone you.” She shrugs.
I run a hand through my hair.
Riley’s giving me a weird look. Actually, he’s giving both me and Sarah weird looks. Then he takes a deep breath. “What if he was you, but from the future? What if you guys… I mean, maybe something happens to me, and to Kat, and you guys end up together, and—”
“And I also get a lobotomy? Come on, Perkins. That guy didn’t sound anything like me.”
“He was also the same age as you,” Sarah adds. “Or at least close enough. So if he was you from the future, not very much time could have passed. Not enough for something to happen to our significant others and for us to get over it and end up together. Unless… Maybe something happens to me in the future, and that’s why future you was so glad to see me.”
“That doesn’t explain why he smelled like a douche. Or why he kissed you. And I don’t know why we’re even considering any of this. He’s not future me. He’s not my clone. He’s not any version of me, okay? He’s just some creeper who made himself look like me for some reason, kissed Sarah, and then ran off. Maybe he’s a shapeshifter who saw those videos of me. Or maybe he escaped from an asylum.”
Sarah frowns. “That doesn’t explain why he knows where I live. Or why he came to me and not Kat, if he is just some crazy guy trying to be you.”
“Because… He figured I’d already be with Kat. He didn’t want me to catch him.”
“I don’t know,” Riley says. “But, Sarah, whatever this is? It’s really creepy. Maybe you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“I’ll be okay,” Sarah says. “It wasn’t scary, and I’ve got Heraldo and Dad here.”
Okay, maybe Heraldo could do something, but her dad? I have my doubts. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay here,” I tell her. “What if this guy comes back?”
“Yeah,” Riley says. “I agree.”
Sarah rolls her eyes at us and opens her desk drawer, pulling out a tiny raygun. “I don’t need you guys to protect me.”
I slide my chair a little farther away from her. “Wow, so, there’s some guy running around looking like me, and you’re going to shoot him?”
“I’ll be careful.”
Right. I’ve heard that before. “Okay, I’m out.” I hold up my hands. “Clearly my lightning skills aren’t needed, and I know how this ends.” I gesture between me and the raygun. “But I still think you should stay with Perkins. Or he should stay with you.”
“Well, okay,” Sarah says.
“And,” Riley adds, “maybe keep the raygun in the drawer?”
Sarah bites her lip. “Maybe we should mark the real Damien somehow.”
“The real Damien?” I shake my head at her. “How about the only Damien?
That guy was not me.”
She looks to Riley. “Maybe an X on his forehead?”
“Gee, Sarah,” I say, “why not just draw a big red target on me? Whatever makes it easier for you.”
She sighs. “It’s not so I can shoot you. It’s so we can tell that you’re not this creeper. Like, in case you forget something and have to come back, and it’s dark, and I’m not one hundred percent sure if it’s you or not.”
“Sarah, if you’re not one hundred percent sure it’s not me? Do not shoot.”
“I’m not going to. But I just thought—”
“You’re not marking me. I’m going home. You guys can stay here and watch for bad guys and make out or whatever. Call me if you need me. And, Perkins? Don’t let her kill anyone.”
Gordon and Helen are sitting on the couch when I come in, watching something on the TV. As soon as I open the door, they turn and stare at me, so that for a second I think maybe I’ve done something wrong, even though I’m pretty sure I haven’t. But they’ve both got these weird looks on their faces. Helen looks almost like she might cry, and Gordon’s just… gaping at me, like he’s never seen me before.
I glance over at the TV to see what has them so worked up. It’s me. I’m on the news, except it’s not me. There’s no way it is, because for one thing, I think I’d know if I did something to get on the news, and for another, I don’t even own the clothes I’m supposedly wearing.
I take a deep breath and brace myself for whatever horrible thing my impostor’s done in my name, besides kissing Sarah, which was bad enough. “Before you freak out, I can explain. It wasn’t—”
“Damien,” Gordon says, his voice hushed, “you don’t have to explain anything.”
“But whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
Gordon and Helen exchange a look. A knowing, kind of sappy look, like they don’t believe me. Like they think I’m making that up.
“You saved that little girl,” Helen says. “You don’t have to deny it.”
“From a well.” Gordon swallows. “You flew. You actually flew, and you did it to save someone.”
I did what now? I glance over at the TV, cold dread flooding my veins.
“Earlier this evening,” the announcer guy on the news says, “Son of Flash, Golden City’s resident half-hero bad boy, rescued little Frida May, a four-year-old orphan who stumbled into an old, unused well. Authorities were searching for the girl all afternoon, but with no luck. In what’s already being heralded as ‘the good deed heard round the world,’ Son of Flash discovered the girl and flew down to save her. More from our on-location reporter, Rhonda Jones, who was lucky enough to be on the scene.”
The video cuts to Rhonda standing in a field. “I’m here with Son of Flash, the hero of the evening. Son of Flash, can you tell me—”
“Call me Damien.” The impostor, the guy pretending to be me, actually says that to her.
My cold dread is replaced with white-hot rage. I mean, seriously, who does this guy think he is?!
“Damien.” The reporter smiles. “What was going through your head when you made your daring rescue?”
“I was thinking I had to get to that girl no matter what. I heard her cries, and I knew she must have been stuck in there for hours already. So I zoomed down the well and got her out. It was a tight squeeze, but we made it.”
“Wow,” Rhonda says. “That’s an amazing story.”
“An amazing story?!” I shout at the screen. “Is she serious?!”
Gordon and Helen look at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Back on the TV, the guy impersonating me says, “It was nothing. I learned everything I know from my dad. I just did what he’s always taught me—to stick up for the little guy.”
Oh, my God. I think I’m going to throw up.
Meanwhile, Gordon’s eyes are wet, he’s so touched by that.
“No.” I point my finger at him. “Do not get emotional over this.”
“Damien,” Gordon says, “I’m just so proud to know that I’ve gotten through to you. That everything I’ve tried to teach you hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
“Dad, that’s not me.”
“We’re so proud of you,” Helen says, sounding just as emotional about this as Gordon. Which kind of sucks, because I’d like at least one of them to be on my side. Or to at least hear what I’m saying.
“But I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, son,” Gordon says. He gets up from the couch and puts a hand on my shoulder. Then he pulls me in for a hug. “I know you’ve been getting your bearings this past year or so, ever since you got your X. It can’t be easy, not fitting in.”
“What? Who said I don’t fit in?” I mean, I don’t—not really—but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.
“We’re just glad to see you’re finally finding your place.”
“Dad, no.” I pull away from him. “You don’t understand.”
“You saved someone. You’re a real hero, Damien.”
“Uh, I saved someone just last week.”
He screws up his eyebrows. “You did?”
“It was in the paper on Saturday. Remember?”
“The puppy thing,” Helen says.
Gordon exhales, understanding dawning on him. “That was a good thing, too. But it’s not in the same league as pulling an orphan from a well.”
“Because it was a dog or because we helped a villain?”
He conveniently doesn’t answer that. “We’re always proud of you, Damien. But this is something everyone can understand. And it’s making a statement. You’re telling the world that you’re a real hero.”
“You say that like I wasn’t a real hero before.”
“I just mean that you’re… you’re my son, and it’s finally starting to show.”
Chapter 7
I GIVE UP ON getting a hold of Kat at about twelve thirty. I have no idea if she’s seen the news or what. Not that I think she’d have a problem with me saving a small child or anything, but she might wonder why I was acting so weird and talking like some douchey hero idiot. She might also wonder why I was wearing clothes that aren’t mine—something you’d think Gordon and Helen might have picked up on, but apparently they’re not that attentive—and what I was doing hanging around in some random field right after I left her house. And, you know, flying down a well like it was no big deal. Which I am technically capable of—all except the “like it was no big deal” part—but which really doesn’t sound like me.
But I’ve called her, like, ten times tonight, and it keeps going straight to voicemail. Her battery probably died and she didn’t realize. Either way, it looks like I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow to tell her what happened and clear my name.
Riley and Sarah, however, called me as soon as they saw the news. Because, despite hanging out alone in Sarah’s room with Riley secretly spending the night, instead of making out or having sex, they were of course watching the news like they’re ninety instead of seventeen. Sarah confirmed that the guy on TV was wearing the same clothes as the guy who kissed her. Not that I thought there were two impostors of me running around or anything, but it’s still good to know, I guess.
None of us had any ideas on why he’d be trying to do good deeds in my name—or, as I put it, ruin my reputation—but Sarah said that if he’s drumming up publicity, he could have at least mentioned our group. And then me and Riley both pointed out that our group doesn’t have a name, which makes it kind of hard for random impostors to promote, and Sarah said we should get right on that and that maybe we could learn a thing or two from this guy, because if it had been me who’d actually saved that orphan, I could have mentioned us. And then I said that that was never going to happen and that we had bigger things to worry about right now, and then I hung up.
And now I’m just lying here in my bed, unable to sleep. I have to be up in the morning to go to the studio with Gordon for my internship in five-and-a-half hours, which isn’t going to be fun, and not just b
ecause I’m going to be super tired. I don’t want to see the look on his face every time he thinks about what a great son I suddenly am, now that I’m somebody else. And I have no idea what to do about the fact that someone’s impersonating me.
I can hear music blasting in Amelia’s room, and not the kind of music you’d fall asleep to, so I’m pretty sure she’s still up. Plus, it’s not like she has to be anywhere tomorrow. And I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I get up, being careful to avoid the creaky floorboards, and go knock on her door.
She doesn’t even turn the music down when she answers. She comes out and stands in the hall, closing her door behind her and folding her arms, giving me a long look, like she doesn’t like what she sees. “What do you want?”
“It turns out I’m not busy right now, and since I had some free time, I thought you might like to watch a movie with me. I’ll even give you my discounted price of only five dollars.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, right. I’m not going to pay to watch a movie with you. Especially when you always do it for free.”
“That was before.” I hold up a finger.
“Before what?”
“Before you banned me from going to the movies with you and Kat.” A grave mistake she’s going to come to regret.
“It was supposed to be girls only. She shouldn’t have invited you. And anyway, I said you could go if you’d be in my video, but you turned me down.”
“I don’t do dance videos.” That’s the last thing I need. “And you wanted me to look stupid.”
She gets this smug grin on her face.
I sigh, about to tell her that I guess neither me nor Kat will be watching movies with her for at least the rest of the summer, but then I think about going back to my room and just lying there, not being able to fall asleep. “Two-fifty for the movie. Final offer.”
“I wouldn’t watch a movie with you right now even if it was free.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Because it’s late?”
“Because I have way better things to do.”
The Rivalry of Renegade X Page 5