by C. C. Ekeke
“Creed and Jensen at work are dating,” Quinn went on, “and Creed hates everything. Helena’s boyfriend is gross and beneath her, but still a boyfriend.”
Annie snorted. “I bet he’s beneath her.”
Laughter exploded out of Quinn. “You can't do that to my lungs right now.”
Annie’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “You’ll find someone, Quinnie,” she promised, slurring her words again. “Once you’re open to it.”
“I’m kinda dating,” Quinn sniffled in objection.
Annie rolled her eyes. “Ones and dones don’t count.” She draped an arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “A career that you slay all day at is necessary. So is a personal life, with or without a man.”
Quinn leaned on Annie. She wanted to take the advice. But the timing sucked. “I’m onto a big story,” she admitted. “Huge.”
“Excuses!” Annie decried.
“Once I’m done, I’m open to whatever,” Quinn promised, studying Annie’s worried face. “Blind dates, Meetup.com gatherings. You name it.” She meant that. A love life was long overdue.
“I’m holding you to that, girlfriend.” Annie pulled her into an embrace.
Quinn returned the hug, invigorated by Annie’s body warmth. “Thanks, honey,” she murmured.
“Always and forever.”
Quinn pulled back, realizing how long they’d been here. “I need to clean up. Don’t leave your bae alone out there.”
“Okay, okay!” Annie staggered upright and rushed from the ladies’ room.
Quinn sat alone again, but no longer feeling so lonely. She stood, reapplied her makeup, and assessed herself thoroughly in the mirror. “Time to finish this restaurant review.” And once she could prove Lord Borealis’s innocence, life would improve. Feeling steadier, Quinn headed for the restroom door…until someone grabbed her waist.
A hand seized the back of her neck. Suddenly, everything jolted into a whooshing blur.
The stop came as swift as the start, a lightheaded Quinn nearly pitching forward. “What the Helsinki?” She whipped around, baffled at how she’d gotten from inside Carmelo’s to the rolling hills of Paso Robles’s wine country. Quinn rubbed her bare arms, cold night air nipping at her skin.
“You didn’t tell anyone.” His voice came from behind.
Quinn turned. Her jaw dropped. “Blur.”
He stood a few feet away, wiry frame silhouetted against San Miguel’s glittery skyline. “Call me Luke.” Quinn heard no trace of Blur’s usual cockiness. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
She winced as the dull ache returned. Seraph had told him about Quinn knowing? Wonderful. “You’re asking about your mistress while on a date with your girlfriend?”
“L.U.N.A. and I are a showmance,” he stated casually. “Didn’t answer my question.”
Quinn didn’t care about this love square. She just wanted to get back to her steak dinner. “Your and Mikaela's...situation isn’t my story to tell.”
“That story could make your career,” Luke pressed further, stepping closer into the dim nearby lights. Bewilderment filled his handsome features. “Yet you’re sitting on it.”
Quinn went rigid, realizing where this was leading. “You want me to talk.”
Blur shrugged and smiled. “Mikaela and I could finally stop hiding.”
Quinn rolled her eyes at Blur’s narcissistic short-sightedness. “I was interviewing the Vanguard to tell their story, not some age-inappropriate affair.”
“It’s not an affair,” Blur corrected peevishly. “We’re in love.”
“Stop.” Quinn raised a silencing hand, not wanting to hear more. But she chose her words carefully lest Blur bolted and stranded her miles from Carmelo’s. “If you truly love Mikaela, you wouldn’t want that story out. Banging Seraph adds to your big-boy swagger, Luke.” She walked closer to emphasize her point. Blur wasn’t tall, maybe five-feet-nine. “Mikaela’s life would be destroyed. She doesn’t deserve that.”
Blur looked moved. “You’re a good friend.”
“Seraph isn’t my friend,” Quinn replied caustically. Also, she was freezing. West Coast living had killed her cold-weather resistance.
“Mikaela knows you’re angry. She’s gonna make it up to you.” Blur’s grin made him look his seventeen years.
Quinn wasn’t interested in sharing any more with this fetus. “Take me back to Carmelo’s, please.”
“Done.” Another whooshing blur smeared San Miguel’s skyline into the dark skies. Abruptly, Quinn was back inside the empty ladies’ bathroom.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed against a sink, Blur’s superspeed screwing up her equilibrium. “Frakkin’ speedsters,” Quinn hissed, wanting the world to stop spinning.
She returned to her table once she could see straight, armed with profuse apologies. “So, so sorry.” She slid into her seat across from Johnny and Annie. “Makeup took longer than expected.”
“Did you run across town or something?” Johnny commented, visibly relieved and somewhat annoyed.
Pretty much. Quinn belly-laughed at the unintentionally astute question. Annie sat glued to her phone as usual, posture stick-straight. Quinn knew something was wrong. “Giaconda?”
Annie looked up, deathly pale. “TMZ and Herogasm are saying Lord Borealis got shanked multiple times. He’s in critical condition.”
Chapter 10
“Oh well,” Simon had gloated when the news broke on Avngr.
Hugo read the update three times, his emotions in a swirl.
Lord Borealis got shanked in prison and was in urgent care. Meaning, he could die before his trial.
“No,” Hugo whispered. Death was too easy. He wanted Borealis to survive and suffer. Not just for killing Titan, but for every crime where he’d escaped prison or gotten off on technicalities.
The news weighed on him throughout the day, leading up to his first History group meeting. Hugo dreaded this evening with every fiber of his being. He'd adjusted to ignoring Brie around school, tuning out her and her squad’s taunts. Though Jordana refused to join her BFF’s games, continuing to be friendly with him. Now Hugo had to deal with Brie El-Saden for this project's three-week duration, which sucked. At least the group's three other members could serve as buffers. Hugo threw on a San Miguel Outlaws baseball jersey, baggy black jeans, and a baseball cap. Then he supersped to San Miguel Central Library, arriving minutes before Danika Townsend and Kevin Coleman.
“Over here.” Hugo waved them over to the table he’d snagged.
“Nice!” Kevin exclaimed, strolling over. “It’s hard as fuck getting tables around this time.”
“I’m skilled like that,” Hugo replied with a grin.
Brent arrived soon after. By his flushed face and basketball warm-ups, he’d come straight from practice. “Hola, brosef!” Brent greeted Hugo with a high-five/back-clap. “Ready to make some memories?”
Hugo made a face at Brent’s enthusiasm. “It’s a history project, not spring break.”
“A project worth fifteen percent of our grade,” Danika scolded. “Start taking it seriously.”
Hugo and Brent exchanged amused faces. Danika Townsend was hella intense. Then again, with one of the top GPAs in the sophomore class and plenty of Track and Field records, her intensity paid off.
“I’m getting hot cocoa.” Hugo rose to his feet. “Anyone want anything? Not you, Danika. You don’t need more coffee.”
With no other requests, Hugo headed to the library’s coffee stand outside. No sign of Brie inside or outside. Maybe she'll no-show, Hugo hoped.
Of course, life hated Hugo. Her scent caught his nose from the parking lot several feet away.
Grimacing, Hugo dared a glimpse over his shoulder.
Briseis's dress tonight was casual; the grey-collared purple V-neck and designer blue slacks clinging to her slim figure. The green beanie sitting atop her flowing auburn hair completed the ensemble. Brie didn’t need much to look gorgeous. But that beauty no longer blinded Hugo
. He tore his gaze away before she saw him, waiting at the coffee stand for his order.
Within moments, Hugo felt her strut toward him. Shit.
As she neared, Briseis flooded his senses. The nervous catch in her breath, the quickening heartbeat, the warmth oozing from her skin, her intoxicating fragrance. Mini-vibrations from her supermodel walk rippled along the pavement.
Briseis reached his side, prodding his arm playfully. “Long time, no awkward,” she said, a tentative smile in her voice.
Hugo gave her a blank look, then turned back to the coffee stand. Her nearness sickened him.
Brie expelled an irritated sigh. “This project means you have to get over yourself and talk to me, Bogie.”
The ovaries on this bitch… But Hugo said nothing. What was taking this barista so long?
He felt Brie bristle. “Fine,” she snapped icily. “Act like a butthurt douchebasket.”
“Fine,” Hugo grunted.
“Great,” Brie mirrored his tone.
“Bye.”
“Ugh.” Brie pivoted tersely and stomped toward the entrance.
Once Hugo returned to the table with his hot cocoa, he sat beside Kevin. Brent sat next to Brie, who was giving Hugo a pit-bull death stare. He acted like her seat was empty, focusing his senses anyplace else.
Danika kicked the meeting off. “I did the required reading on the Hearst family and supplemental online research. So I threw together a little something to get us started.” The athletically-built black girl passed out stapled overviews. “It covers basic info on the Hearsts,” Danika explained eagerly. “And nine topics we could choose for our six.”
Hugo flipped through the overview and whistled. “This is a little something?” The detail was insane. He exchanged smiles with Brent. Having Danika in their group was going to be great.
“Jesus, Danika,” Kevin exclaimed, scanning over his copy. “You’re the best!”
Danika reveled in the praise. “I am!”
The meeting zinged along, starting with a debate over the nine topics Danika suggested.
“Maybe we do the Hearst family’s achievements, with a twist?” Hugo suggested. “What did Mr. Hearst have to fail at to achieve a successful newspaper? What other achievements seemed DOA but ended up being successful?”
The group more or less agreed.
He sensed Brie's withering stare before she spoke. “Wow, Golden Boy. You’re such a whiz on this subject.”
Hugo stiffened. She just taunted me about last summer? Hugo’s skin burned from Danika’s and Kevin’s questioning stares. He glared at a rightfully horrified Brent. The blond-haired boy had told Brie about what Baz and his crew had done to Hugo last summer. Clearly, Brent hadn’t expected her to weaponize that info. From the corner of his eye, Hugo caught Brie’s gleeful sneer.
No, he told himself. Don’t give her the satisfaction of reacting.
Danika then suggested another Hearst Castle visit. “We can do one of their more specialized tours for more research.” Everyone collectively groaned.
“Why?” Brent whined, running both hands down his face. “We were there yesterday!”
“Totally agree,” Hugo weighed in. “Can’t we Google that stuff?”
Danika shook her head in disgust. “Lazy asses.”
“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Golden Boy,” Brie chirped again. Her pale-green eyes raked over Hugo with sadistic glee. “You might make a mess if you don’t see if Hearst Castle has some more to squeeze out.” Her fake little giggle sounded both silly and cruel.
Danika let out a snicker. “Brie, stop playing.”
“What’s with the pee metaphors?” Kevin asked, hands raised in annoyed confusion.
Hugo shrugged, fighting to keep a nonchalant expression. But his fists quivered from clenching so hard. For a moment, he was back in Liberty Park getting pummeled by Baz and his boys, suffocating in the stench as Baz peed on him, laughing. Hugo’s anger flared all over again at how powerless and pathetic he’d been. God, was Brie that desperate for attention or just that awful?
Brent elbowed her. “Not cool,” he whispered for only her to hear.
Of course, Hugo caught every word.
“What?” Brie asked, feigning innocence to her actions. “He clearly needed a splash of encouragement.”
“Enough,” Brent groused, shutting her up. He glanced at Hugo and mouthed, “Sorry!”
He should be. Hugo swallowed Briseis’s taunts in silence, refusing to engage. Brie wanted a reaction. Any reaction. But baiting him with what Baz did this past summer crossed a line.
The meeting plodded on another half-hour, and Hugo planned how to give Brie the reply she deserved.
“Let’s add one more subject,” he said after the group had locked down five topics to cover. He looked at everyone except Brie, annoying her further. “Despite the Hearsts’ wealth and power, many were miserable, bottomless pits of self-loathing. So they surrounded themselves with spineless ass-kissers to inflate their delicate egos.” This drew baffled reactions. Hugo continued. “Or bully people who they felt were beneath them. Or were cruel, because hurting people gave them joy. All to ignore how much they hated themselves.”
Hugo turned to Briseis, smiling. “Sounds like your life story, Brie. Why don’t you tackle that one?”
The table hushed. Briseis turned an angry pink. She looked outraged, words seeming to fail her. After a volatile moment, she slammed her fist on the table and shot to her feet. Brie grabbed her large designer bag and whirled around, nearly smacking Brent in the face, and stormed off seething.
No one spoke, the tension thick. Brent shook his head in disappointment. Hugo didn’t hide his glee watching Briseis leave the library.
“Whoa!” Kevin pointed. “She’s actually leaving.”
“You’re welcome,” Hugo snarked. The table erupted with laughter. Even Brent, Brie’s friend, shook with chuckles. Several library patrons shushed them angrily. Hugo covered his mouth but still smiled fiercely. His superhearing picked up Brie entering her car, bursting into tears. Guilt seized part of him—a small part. Brie could dish out the nastiness but not take it.
The next day, Hugo was pleased to find Brie’s friend Kendall sitting alone in second period. Apparently, Brie had transferred to another history teacher’s class. Good riddance. Not seeing horrible Briseis in class made his week.
“Hell yeah!” Simon crowed, high-fiving him. “You're the Queen-slayer!”
During lunch, Simon renewed his superhero badgering at their usual spot, away from the crowds. Despite Hugo’s protests, Simon wouldn’t shut up. “There’s a Titan-sized hole in the world, Bogie,” he insisted, pushing ketchup-drenched fries around his plate. “Which you can fill.”
“Doubt it,” Hugo countered, wolfing down his burrito. “Geist, Lady Liberty, Justice Jones, the Vanguard, the Extreme Teens, this new team called the Elite. And that’s not counting cities with government-sanctioned heroes—”
“I swear…” Simon wagged his finger. “Mention Tomorrow Man and you better be wearing a cup.”
“Hell no,” Hugo replied. “I mean I'm not needed. And I don’t wanna be caught by OSA.”
“Titan gave you his powers for a reason,” Simon pushed back as the bell rang for fifth period. “Do me a favor. Tonight, listen to the city. If San Miguel isn’t crying for help, I’ll shut up about this.”
Hugo sighed and shouldered his backpack, considering this. “Promise?”
“Kinda sorta maybe.” Simon grinned.
That evening, after finishing homework, Hugo did as Simon asked. He tried procrastinating by ringing up Presley and company to hang out. Regrettably, they were busy tonight. Dammit.
So Hugo sat cross-legged in his bedroom, wearing boardshorts and a cutoff t-shirt. Closing his eyes, he stretched his superhearing miles beyond himself and listened.
He immediately heard Mom getting dinner ready downstairs and AJ watching that awful Extreme Dreams show. Clatter and conversation from other dinners around th
e block reached his ears, a jumble of noises too many to discern. But he could hear a wife and husband’s heated argument over their son’s bad behavior. Hugo winced. He could handle it but didn’t enjoy so much noise thundering on his eardrums.
Hugo pushed himself further, his entire attention on that task. His hearing reached past Paso Robles to San Miguel miles away. The sounds of a city in motion grated on his ears, a messy cacophony of traffic and pedestrians. He grimaced but kept maintaining focus, listening for anyone in need.
Huge mistake.
Suddenly, thousands of voices were shouting. Lonely people privately crying for escapes from their empty lives. Bystanders screaming for help while getting mugged on street corners while others did nothing. Heartwrenching screams while parents beat children into submission. Car engines roared as aggressive drivers turned freeways and streets into race tracks. Police responding to a murder-suicide between arguing spouses.
Hugo cried out. It was too much, too overwhelming. He covered his ears and curled into a ball. But San Miguel kept jackhammering against his skull.
He gritted his teeth and quickly dialed his hearing down to normal again. In seconds, the pounding stopped. Hugo unfurled his legs, lowering both hands from his ears. Tears were blurring his vision.
There’d been too much pain and sorrow. And that was just San Miguel. How could Hugo make any difference? “It’s…impossible,” he whispered.
“What’s impossible?”
Hugo nearly had a heart attack. He sprang up and spun around.
His younger brother's stocky silhouette blocked the doorway. “Jesus! Don’t you knock?”
AJ backpedaled, clutching the doorframe. “You didn’t answer!” Fear dominated his voice and face. That had never been the case before.