by C. C. Ekeke
No sign of Simon. But Hugo heard him still at their fourth period Bio classroom pleading with Mrs. Cruz for extra credit after bombing their recent test. Hugo felt terrible bailing on their Simon and Hugo time yesterday. But after what Baz and his friends had done, Mom and AJ needed him at home. Hugo’s anger reignited remembering the attack...and AJ’s injuries.
His roving stare landed on the “Sensational Six” at their usual table, a prime spot in the quad for boys to pass by and ogle at them. Brie and her squad were addicted to the attention while pretending to be irked by it. A memory popped into Hugo’s brain when the group and their satellite members had thrown a legendary party last year at the start of ninth grade, inviting only popular upperclassmen. That had turned the Sensational Six into objects of fascination, gossip, and envy around Paso High ever since. Now the group regularly hung out with the junior and senior elite, getting invites to all their parties.
Brie El-Saden currently sat in the center of the grouping, the picture of designer couture perfection, looking beautiful yet displeased. While chatting with Jen Thomas about the latter's varsity volleyball game, Brie snuck a small hotel vodka bottle from her purse. She poured half into her soda cup, then dumped the rest into Spencer Michelman’s cup.
Hugo frowned. Clearly, Briseis’s living her best life. J-Tom paled but kept talking like nothing happened. Probably afraid Queen Brie would snap at her. Spencer and Natalie sat side by side, badmouthing another girl of course.
“See Carice today?” Natalie snickered. “She looks like a rainbow piñata.”
“Either Carice lost a bet,” Spencer replied with a sneer, "or someone told her that crayon-colored trash bags were in fashion.”
Hugo tuned out their cruel laughter, disgusted. Two shallow pools of vitriol, no depth whatsoever. Lia Kim was laughing loudest at Brie’s jokes again. Brie replied with a brittle smile, only to exchange mocking glances with J-Tom behind Lia’s back. Hugo might’ve pitied the Korean girl if she didn’t gleefully join in Brie’s mean girl takedowns.
Then Hugo spotted Jordana, curvy and enticing. He couldn’t not stare at the hypnotic way she moved her hips with each step.
Jordana smiled and nodded at him, sitting beside Brie.
Warmth jolted through Hugo. He nodded back and winked. Jordana blushed.
Brie saw the exchange and bristled. “Stop flirting with that diaper baby, Jodie.”
Jordana shrugged and chomped into her cheeseburger. “Breezy? Love you, mean it. But your Hugo problems aren’t mine.”
Lia, J-Tom, Natalie, and Spencer gawked. Brie grumbled something in Arabic and kept sipping her “soda.”
Hugo smiled behind steepled fingers. He and Jodie had been friendly since his detention a few weeks back. Exchanging hellos, flirty small talk between classes when she was alone or with her softball teammates. This new friendship was weird but cool, with the added bonus of driving Brie bonkers. Hugo also suspected that Jordana liked him. Flattering, but not happening. Not just because of Briseis. Since this weekend, Hugo was spoken for. The declaration felt sudden. But neither he nor Presley could deny their attraction. Hugo’s heart sang thinking of Presley, distracting him from his hunt.
Shaking his head, he refocused on Baz—who finally left campus with several upperclassman basketballers.
Hugo grimaced. The large audience wouldn’t be a physical problem, just an annoyance. Baz couldn’t escape the consequences. Calling the police had yielded nothing without a license plate. Meaning Hugo had to get justice himself.
He stood from the table.
“Sorry I’m late.” Simon’s voice, amplified by superhearing, startled Hugo. The Korean boy appeared by his side, grinning triumphantly. “It’s that test I waffled on.”
“You got the extra credit assignment,” Hugo replied. “No worries.”
Simon stared. “Your superhearing trips me out sometimes."
Hugo smiled, striding toward an exit. “Let’s go off-campus for lunch.” He followed Baz’s trail.
“Finally!” Simon cheered, clueless to the real purpose of today’s lunch. “Real Simon and Bogie time.”
Hugo glanced at his friend, shouldering through crowds of students staying on-campus. “Sorry about yesterday,” he apologized. “Family emergency.”
Simon’s joy sobered. “What happened?”
“Everything’s fine,” Hugo assured. They neared an exit. He smelled traces of Baz through here.
Simon relaxed somewhat. “I guess this weekend went badly?”
“Not entirely.” Hugo smiled, the weekend with Presley replaying in his mind. “I had sex!”
Simon beamed. “Dude, that’s great!” His face turned serious again. “With Presley, right?”
Hugo glowered at the dumb question. “Yeah, with Presley.”
“Dude, that’s great!” Simon repeated in the same tenor and expression. “You’re stranding me in virgin territory.”
Hugo grinned as they left campus. “Hehe.” He’d left virgin territory long before Presley but would rather not revisit that situation. “You’ll get off soon,” Hugo encouraged. “Here’s what happened…”
He gave the lowdown about last weekend as they headed for Oldtown Paso Robles’s restaurant row. His hearing tracked Baz and company heading to a Cheese Café for takeout, far enough from campus.
Hugo finished his story, with Simon’s gleeful compliments, heading for Cheese Café. Revenge was near. Until Simon smacked his arm. “Speaking of girls.”
Hugo blinked in confusion, fixated on Baz. Then he saw the leggy six-foot bombshell with short blonde hair strutting their way. Hugo barely noticed her two friends, locking eyes with Abby Dunleavy, aka Easy Abby. Last year, the Paso High junior would’ve looked through Hugo. Now Abby sized him up like a snack. They passed each other, never breaking eye contact, heat smoldering between them. Abby’s sinful perfume fleetingly broke Hugo’s focus on Baz.
He turned to watch her leave, mesmerized.
Abby grinned over her shoulder and whispered to her friends. “Yep, I’d climb that.” They all tittered.
Simon gaped after Abby. “What’s that about?”
Hugo turned back around with a smug nod, fingering his earring stud. “Guess Abby likes what she sees.”
Simon snorted. “You wouldn’t be the first. Or tenth,” he said, referring to Abby’s sordid reputation. “Can’t believe she’s a junior.”
Hugo shook his head to clear it. “Abby’s a grown-ass woman…” His amusement trailed off.
Baz, five other ballplayers, and a few girls waited in Cheese Café’s takeout line with several bystanders. He was flexing his biceps for a giggling hoop rat.
Hugo grimaced when he saw the crowd. Confronting Baz on campus was a no-go. And he had basketball practice until late after school. Hugo had to strike now.
“By the way.” Simon sounded far away, struggling to match Hugo’s long strides. “I like a good powerwalk, but where are we eating…whoa.”
Hugo shrugged off his backpack and shoved it into Simon’s hands. “Hold this.”
“Hugo?” Simon looked confused.
Hugo marched at his unwary prey faster than advisable. He remembered AJ’s injury and the shattered windows. Hatred devoured all rational thought.
Hugo cut his distance from Baz in seconds. The hoop rat saw him coming and wisely retreated.
Baz turned and gaped.
Hugo grabbed the scruff of his neck, slamming him face-first onto the hood of a Mercedes Benz—barely holding back.
Baz slid off the car in a heap, slicked hair askew. God, that felt glorious!
The crowd reacted with oohs, screams, or protests from Baz’s teammates.
Simon’s jaw dropped. “Hugo!”
Hugo ignored him, glaring down at Baz with arms spread in challenge. “Surprise, muthafucka!”
Lionel Wagner and DeDamien quickly advanced to protect their boy.
“Hey…” Lionel grabbed Hugo’s shoulder. DeDamien thundered in after him. “What the—a
ack!”
Hugo moved impossibly fast, lifting Lionel on his tiptoes with a one-handed choke. He then grabbed DeDamien’s shirt, keeping him at arm’s length. The towering boy struggled but couldn’t shake Hugo’s overpowering grip.
Simon yelped, stumbling back. Several girl students squealed, including Lionel’s girlfriend.
“Stay. The Fuck. Back,” Hugo snarled in warning. He shoved both Lionel and DeDamien with just enough force to knock them on their asses. Any harder and they’d have gone airborne. Hugo glared daggers at the frightened mass around him, his vision fogging over in red. “My problem’s with him!” He pointed at Baz. “Interfere, and my problem’s with you! We clear?”
Nobody moved to help Baz. Smart.
Hugo whirled on Baz, who was still on the ground. “And you…” He reached for the ballplayer, who stupidly lurched upright and took a swing. Hugo snorted, slapping the punch aside in contempt. Grabbing Baz’s neck, Hugo bounced his face off the car hood once more, twice more, harder each time. Baz’s eyes crossed as he wilted in Hugo’s grip, nose dribbling blood.
“After kicking my ass last summer? After all the times you and your boys held me under ice-cold showers in ninth grade? After disrespecting my dead father? You attack my house?” He hauled Baz up by the collar so they were face to face. “Are you just dumb as fuck or do you want me to put you in a wheelchair?” Hugo demanded, not recognizing his own animalistic growl.
Baz yelped, trembling with fear.
“Keep pushing,” Hugo rumbled, “and I will cripple your ass.”
Baz was about to cry. Hugo relished seeing that.
“Bogie.” Simon’s plea pierced his fog of hatred. He gripped Hugo’s shoulder. “Let him go.”
Hugo glowered at his friend, pleading for Baz…
Simon looked shaken. “People are watching.”
Hugo took in the scene around them. Baz’s teammates and friends all stared with various degrees of terror and impotent fury. Adult restaurant patrons watched him fearfully. Some were pulling out cellphones. Maybe calling the cops. That outlook cooled Hugo’s rage. He released Baz, letting him slump to the ground.
“That’s your last warning, Baz,” Hugo stated loud enough for everyone to hear. He snatched his backpack from a stunned Simon and marched out of the parking lot.
Now Hugo felt better. And Baz couldn’t do shit unless he wanted everyone knowing how he’d vandalized Hugo’s home and injured AJ. Win-win.
“What the hell?” Simon called out, running to catch up.
“Sebastian attacked my family,” was Hugo's remorseless answer. Baz better have learned his lesson. Next time, Hugo might end up killing this dumbass boy.
“Hold on!” Simon planted himself in front of Hugo.
That forced the Samoan to stop. “What?” he snapped.
“I hate Baz as much as you…” Simon began.
“Doubt it.”
“You can’t ambush him in public,” Simon pressed.
“Why not?” Hugo threw back, fury reigniting. “He attacked my family! Should I just ignore that?”
“No,” Simon said, frowning. “But you could’ve seriously hurt Baz.”
Hugo shrugged and sidestepped his friend. “Not my problem.”
“It will be if…hey!” Simon caught his arm and nearly got dragged along, forcing Hugo to halt again. “It will be your problem if you lose control.”
Hugo couldn’t refute that. His glee after manhandling Baz vanished, leaving intolerable anger.
“Using Titan’s powers just to beat up asshole jocks?” Simon hissed. “You’re better than this!”
Hugo was sick of hearing this speech. Sick of his so-called responsibilities. “Shut up about your childish fantasies, Simon!” he erupted. “Titan chose the wrong guy! Deal with it!”
Simon stood frozen. Something shifted in his moon-shaped face as a light died in his eyes. “I’m gonna head back to eat on campus,” Simon stated coldly, turning around to march away.
Guilt struck Hugo like a ton of bricks. But he was too livid to apologize. “Fine! More Beach Bum Burgers for me!”
Hugo strode down the street in the opposite direction, seething. He didn’t need a friend constantly henpecking him. Swallowing the scalding grief, Hugo walked faster.
Chapter 20
“I’m freaking out, Doc,” Greyson exclaimed, wringing his hands while pacing. “Freaking. Out.”
He’d arrived at Dr. St. Pierre’s office after three rounds of drinks with his coworkers. Leaving for the therapist’s office right after hearing about Tom would’ve raised suspicions. Plus, a teammate getting captured by OSA and potentially ratting him out warranted getting drunk. Those could have been his last drinks as a free man. But despite his co-workers' lively company, Greyson barely held it together, sinking deeper into despair.
After an hour at happy hour, Greyson had made a lame excuse to leave and summon an Uber.
Dr. St. Pierre, in a button-down and slacks combo, sat pokerfaced while he paced back and forth. The dim office lights, though warm, couldn’t ease the chill clutching Greyson’s heart.
He cut to the chase. “What if Tom flips on us?”
St. Pierre shook his head. “Tom won’t talk.” He remained seated, a pillar of confidence.
Greyson stopped and glared, envious of the man's poise. “How do you know?”
“I'm working with my OSA contacts,” St. Pierre stated, "discreetly.”
Greyson scoffed, too stressed to buy that line again. “You said that before,” he growled. “Now Tom’s in prison.”
St. Pierre’s brow furrowed. “Tom got incarcerated for not listening.” The therapist’s tone remained level.
Greyson opened his mouth but had no counter. The therapist was right. “I should’ve stopped Tom,” he admitted, tired and guilty.
“Tom’s fuckup isn't on you,” St. Pierre rebuked, dismissing the confession.
Greyson wouldn’t take the out. “He contacted me a few days ago to team up.” He let his head loll forward as the memories unfolded. “I told him to leave me alone. Thought that would be enough.” Anguish inside his chest made breathing difficult.
“Still not your fault.” St. Pierre rose to his feet, limping over with his left boot cast. “The only thing to do is minimize the fallout so it doesn’t consume the rest of you.”
Greyson narrowed his eyes while studying him. “How so?”
St. Pierre glanced away, seemingly gathering his strength. “Tom takes the fall for everything. The building damage. The deaths. That will clear you four.”
Greyson jerked back. Throwing Tom under the bus had to be a bad joke. The grave look on St. Pierre’s face said otherwise. “Tom did nothing besides being stupid.”
“The deal’s already done,” the therapist stated, leaving no room for debate. His expression held no remorse. “He agreed with my contacts and won't flip.”
Greyson’s shock quickly became outrage. “Kathy, Connie, and Izzie are onboard with this?”
“I’m telling you first,” St. Pierre admitted. “But it’s not up to them. You’re all my responsibility. I won’t fail you again.”
That explanation didn’t fly with Greyson. Tom was stupid but noble. All he wanted was to be a hero. “That’s wrong,” Greyson persisted.
“Would you rather Izzie and Connie go to jail?” St. Pierre snapped.
Greyson stepped back. It was rare seeing the therapist angry. “No—”
St. Pierre bulldozed over his reply. “You want to take Tom’s place?”
Greyson opened his mouth…but no part of him wanted to take Tom’s place. Realizing that shamed him.
St. Pierre sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed by your sense of self-preservation, Greyson. You have a life filled with connections.”
Greyson wanted to believe this was okay. But if Tom got jailed for crimes he didn't do, he couldn’t help thinking less of St. Pierre. And less of myself for agreeing. “Heroes are supposed to protect someone li
ke Tom,” Greyson whispered, voice quivering.
“I know.” St. Pierre shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they glistened. “I had a plan to protect you five. Tom shit all over that by going rogue. This is the only option.” He gave Greyson’s shoulder a squeeze. “You understand?”
Despite feeling dirty over this frame job, Greyson did understand. “I have to,” he mumbled.
The tension seemed to bleed out of St. Pierre. He managed a sad smile. “I’ll tell the others tomorrow. Separately. I suggest you and Lauren get away from St. Louis.” He moved from Greyson to his desk and began stacking folders. “Take whatever vacation you had planned for a week until things cool down. You guys may be in the clear, but other law enforcement agencies didn’t love this compromise. We shouldn’t push our luck.”
In the Uber ride home, Tom taking the fall consumed Greyson, dragging him down. What would Titan have done? Before his death, Titan had been the gold standard of superhero behavior. Honest, selfless, unyielding. Then Greyson remembered recent reports on the Central Coast Saint. Before his death, Titan had only cared about gorging himself on willing cape chasers. Greyson closed his eyes as the anguish deepened.
He returned home to find Lauren on the couch in some red negligée pajamas, her hair loose and spilling down one shoulder. She was watching some reality show featuring Missy Magnificent, Missy & Monty’s Misadventures. After a year of scandal, the former Extreme Teen was mounting another comeback. Usually, Greyson would slump onto the couch and join Lauren. Instead, he mumbled out a greeting and headed for the bedroom.
He’d just lay down in bed to drift off when Lauren came in.
“I’m so sorry about Tom.” She slid into bed beside him.
Before long, Greyson told her everything, even his rejection of Tom at Sara’s birthday. By the end, he was sobbing. The self-loathing crushed any semblance of civility.
Lauren wrapped her arms around Greyson’s grief, cradling and kissing away his pain. “We’ll disappear for a week, Grey,” Lauren whispered. “Whatever you need to get through this.”
Another sob shuddered through Greyson and he held her closer. What would I do without this woman? Hopefully, Greyson would never find out.