by C. C. Ekeke
He dropped like a rock.
A deafening boom blossomed on impact, shuddering Hugo’s bones and the earth around him for miles. The fall didn’t hurt, not physically. He rose, dusting himself off.
“Flight attempt one hundred and four,” he grumbled. “Failure.” At least Hugo had hovered—a few seconds. But he couldn’t find whatever Zen mindset accessed flight.
The sound of a far-off engine at the edge of his hearing broke through the self-pity. Hugo looked east. A car. Squinting made out the outline of a beat-up Volkswagen van maybe four miles out.
Hugo panicked. Someone heard his fall and was coming to investigate. “I need more remote practice spots,” he growled and zoomed away from the junkyard.
He reached home in minutes. Mom was with AJ at Olympian World for a friend’s birthday. Unsurprising. His younger brother was popular at school. They’d return late, leaving Hugo home alone.
His schedule included studying with Jordana, then evening training with Ms. Ortiz where he’d see his freaking superhero suit. Hugo couldn’t stop smiling. After a quick shower and breakfast, Hugo slipped into a sleeveless hoodie and shorts before scouring his cell for news. Lady Liberty had advised him to stay informed on the city he planned to protect. Hugo took that further, obsessing over superhero-related news. The headlines weren’t encouraging.
Splashed on Herogasm’s main app screen was Titan’s towering statue defaced by NOT A HERO in red spray paint. The visual unsettled Hugo, a testament to how the public had turned on Titan.
“Titan died the hero and became the villain,” Hugo muttered, scrolling down his phone. Speaking of unpopular, he saw another Vanguard-bashing Op-Ed on SLOCO Daily.
“If The Vanguard can’t protect their own, should they protect us?” Hugo recited the title and cringed. The superhero team had been brutalized by the press after the Morningstar incident. News outlets continued calling for Sentinel to step down as leader. Rumors of trouble in his and Seraph’s relationship persisted. Wyldcat’s partying had gained increased scrutiny. And Ramon Dempsey, aka Dynamo, had quit.
“I’m never making my ID public,” Hugo promised, scrolling to another article. “Or joining a team.”
He found a story about Missy Magnificent repackaging herself as protector of San Miguel’s Junction neighborhood. Hugo doubled over laughing. This was Missy’s fourth comeback since leaving the Extreme Teens and becoming a tabloid punchline. He almost kept reading, until the story of another teen suicide bomber caught his eye. This one had happened last night east of San Luis Obispo County. Police still had no leads. “Jesus,” Hugo exclaimed. “What the heck?”
Familiar footsteps heading up Hugo’s driveway outside pulled him from the growing anger.
He glanced at his cellphone and smiled. 2:30 PM. He pushed off the couch. “My study date’s here.” After the doorbell rang, Hugo opened the door with a long, indulgent look.
Jordana Buchanan at his front door still baffled Hugo. “Buenos tardes, Bogota,” she greeted with a glowing smile.
Hugo enjoyed her pronouncing his actual name, the Spanish inflection bearing a Bronx drawl. He’d never really noticed Jordana’s beauty until seeing her away from Brie. Those curious brown eyes and round cheekbones. How her dark skin just shone. Jordana’s loose black curls were piled in a messy bun atop her head, glistening under mid-afternoon sunlight. The grey sweatpants and off-the-shoulder blue Mets t-shirt over a tank top didn’t hide her thick curves…or large, round boobs. God, Hugo loved looking at Jodie.
He smelled Moonshock, the L.U.N.A perfume he’d complimented her on yesterday. Sneaky girl… “Hey, Jodie.” Hugo waved her inside. “Ready to show me your skills?”
“Sure.” Jordana sashayed inside. Her longing stare raked over Hugo. “But let’s study first.”
Hugo laughed off her flirting. It’s just flirting, right? He didn’t dwell, getting her some water before the pair sat on the living room couch to study. Two months ago, Jordana had sucked at geometry. But she was a determined, quick learner. Eight tutoring sessions later, her progress floored Hugo.
For an hour, he fired off several math problems from their textbook. Jodie nailed every one, doing a cute shoulder shimmy after each right answer. Hugo enjoyed that goofy quirk...and sitting hip to hip with her.
But he buried any signs of interest, playing it cool. “You’re so ready for the next test,” Hugo decided favorably. “Guess you don’t need me anymore.”
“Says who?” she challenged.
Hugo chuckled…until Jordana started caressing the nape of his neck. The hunger in her eyes jolted through him. Between that and the pheromones mixing in her perfume, he knew exactly what Jodie wanted.
Good Lord. Hugo slumped back on his couch, drinking in the sight of her.
Jodie blinked, a dark flush staining her coffee-brown skin. “What?” Her question was unusually husky.
“I think you answered all the equations,” Hugo whispered. The rhythm of Jodie’s racing pulse sent a stirring through his loins. No. Way. Or was Jordana just having a weak moment?
Her sex-glazed eyes lingered on his lips. She was leaning closer, as if drawn by a magnet. Ignoring common sense, Hugo met her halfway. Now they were kissing, unhurried yet forceful. Jodie’s tongue filled his mouth, while her hand traced circles on the back of his head.
But anxiety pulled Hugo back. Not over hurting Jodie. Hugo could control his strength, thanks to Lady Liberty’s training.
It was the burden of Jordana and Brie’s friendship ending because of him.
A frown knit Jordana’s eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, too close for comfort.
“So…” Hugo inhaled to compose himself. “Will this cause more girl drama?” Not just with Brie…
Jodie leaned back in surprise.
“Gossip travels,” Hugo added, smiling wanly.
Jodie shook her head. “Nope!”
Exactly what Hugo wanted to hear. “Sweet.” He tugged Jordana in close. She straddled him, grinding on his lap as their lips locked again. Hugo loved how she kissed, like she couldn’t get enough. And her lips were like butter, melting Hugo’s brain into a puddle. He got two handfuls of her thick hips while her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Hugo nibbled her lower lip, then pressed into the kiss more fiercely. Jodie made contented whimpers.
“Wanna play upstairs?” Hugo whispered once they’d finally broken for air.
Jordana gazed deep into his eyes, ample chest heaving. “Only if we keep things PG,” she said firmly.
Hugo shrugged, not remotely concerned. “Whatever you like.”
Delight warmed her features. “My abuelita says there’s lots you can do that’s not considered sex.”
Hugo gaped, thankful for Jordana’s abuelita. “You’re a problem, huh?”
She smiled deviously. “Boy, you got no idea.”
Who do I thank for today? Desire pushed Hugo off the couch, Jodie still straddling him. She weighed nothing. He marched upstairs, holding her waist as she squealed and hung on frantically.
Activities resumed in Hugo’s bedroom, his mouth ending up on Jordana’s mouth, and her neck, and other enjoyable places. Jodie’s breaths quickened, her temperature rising. But they never passed second-and-a-half base. Hugo had no clue how much time had passed until they took a break, lying together in bed. Outside displayed a bullion sunset.
“You have a middle name?” Jodie asked suddenly, head on his bare chest. “Or just two first names?”
Hugo gently walked his fingers down her spine. “Iosefa. It’s super Samoan,” he said. “And yours?”
Jodie pushed up on both elbows, brushing curtains of long, loose curls from her face. “Belcalis.”
“Like Cardi B?” Hugo loved how she pronounced Spanish names. “Jordy B.”
Jordana slapped his chest. “You’re so stupid,” she teased.
Hugo studied her up and down, dazed anew with lust. “Your body looks stupid! In a good way.”
Jordana’s laughter was high an
d melodic. “How stupid?”
Hugo considered this. “On a scale of one to Rihanna?” he began, making her laugh more. “Off the charts!”
“Trying to charm my pants off,” Jordana straddled him again. “And get more of this.” She leaned down. Her lingering kiss curled Hugo’s toes. “Or these.” Jodie pressed his hands on her pendulous chest under her tank top.
The blood flow drained from Hugo’s brain. “Is it working?”
Jordana’s eyes blazed. She playfully smacked his face.
“Seriously.” Hugo’s heart raced as he grew serious. “You’re beautiful.”
Jordana looked away, blushing. The shyness was endearing. Hugo drew Jordana down, guiding her mouth back to his. And they were devouring each other again.
The rumble of an approaching Forerunner caused Hugo to pull away.
“What?” Jodie panted, her eyes slightly glazed over.
“My mom’s half a block away with my brother and…” Someone else was in the car. “No way.”
Jordana made a face. “What the…?!” she remarked. “You can hear that far? Are you a bloodhound?”
Hugo gently hoisted her off him. “I’ll clean up downstairs while you get decent.” He snatched his shirt from the floor, pulling it back on.
“Wait.” Jodie dragged him into another kiss, clearly addicted. Definitely trouble.
Hugo finally broke away, red-faced and swaying. He had to walk normal speed around Jodie. By the time he reached downstairs, Mom was already opening the front door.
“Evening, Bogota.” She wore a nice sundress, her frizzy black hair in a ponytail. Mom kissed his cheek, visibly tired after a day at Olympian World Theme Park.
AJ followed her, broad-shouldered and noticeably shorter than Hugo. The brothers exchanged high-fives. AJ seemed unusually ecstatic. And the reason was behind him.
A thickset man in his early thirties entered the house carrying two suitcases. His rough-hewn face resembled Mom’s, a devilish glint in his beady eyes. Black oily hair spilled down his shoulders. The Samoan tribal tattoo running down to his left elbow was unmissable.
“Uncle Sione!” he exclaimed happily. “Malo!” The arrival of Mom’s younger brother left Hugo slack-jawed. While Sione was his favorite uncle, a heads-up would’ve been nice.
Uncle Sione dropped his suitcases and bearhugged Hugo. “Malo, Bogota!” He drew back, marveling at his nephew. “You weren’t kidding, Savelina. He’s a giant!”
The last time they’d seen each other, Sione had stood much taller. Now Hugo towered over his uncle. “Second puberty.” He glared at Mom. “Didn’t know Sione was visiting.”
Mom bristled. “Sione called me from SMI this afternoon,” she remarked tartly, slamming the door. Suddenly, the foyer felt very crowded. Sione scanned his relatives warily.
Only AJ remained enthused. “Uncle’s crashing here a while.”
“I hadn’t seen y’all since the funeral.” Sione scratched the back of his head. “And I’m between jobs.”
Between jobs meant Uncle Sione was working another get-rich-quick scheme. Hugo loved him, but the former surfer’s life was a dumpster fire.
Mom studied the living room and Jodie’s stuff on the coffee table. “Whose backpack is this?”
Hugo winced, not expecting to explain the Jordana situation. “A friend. We’re studying geometry.”
Sione arched an eyebrow. “Lady friend?”
“Hello!”
Everyone turned.
Jodie bounced downstairs wearing her Mets shirt, long curly hair cascading. She smiled. “I’m Jordana.”
Sione, gawking from her to Hugo, mouthed, “NICE!”
Hugo rolled his eyes. “My school friend.” He introduced her to the family. Weird, but cool.
Another girl? Mom’s frown suggested. Hugo shook his head tersely to quiet her.
AJ looked smitten by Jodie. “Actually, its Junior,” he corrected when introduced.
Hugo snorted. “Since when?”
“Awhile.” AJ looked annoyed. “Shaddup, uso!”
“Boys,” Mom chided, then smiled at Jordana. “AJ’s friends call him that. Speaking of…” She frowned while recalling something. “AJ’s friend Dallas has an older sister at Paso High. His siblings are named after Texas cities. I keep forgetting her name…”
“Abilene,” Jodie said. Hugo frowned at her stiff reaction.
“Yes,” Mom exclaimed. “She goes by Abby. Sweet girl.”
Hugo was lost. “Abby who?”
Jodie pursed her lips in distaste. “Dunleavy.”
Hugo’s jaw dropped. “That Abby?” Easy Abby’s reputation around school stemmed from her banging Jordana’s ex-boyfriend, ending the two’s friendship. Brie's cyberbullying made Abby's rep and nickname stick.
Hugo turned angrily on AJ. “You never said Abby was Dallas’s sister.”
His brother shrugged indifferently. “You never asked.”
“On that note…” Jordana checked her phone. “My Uber’s almost here. Nice meeting you.” She gathered her stuff from the living room as Mom, AJ, and Sione said goodbye.
Hugo then escorted Jordana outside. The tension between them still crackled, despite the awkward family meeting. Standing on the sidewalk, Jordana spun to face him. “So…” She bit her lower lip suggestively.
“So…” Hugo smiled, enjoying the nearness. “I had fun.”
Jodie fiddled with his shirt. “Same.”
Despite the lust fogging his brain, Hugo remembered to state his intentions now. “But I’m not looking for anything serious.”
Jordana frowned. “Me neither,” she snapped, head bobbing all sassy-like.
Relief flooded Hugo as the approaching Uber’s headlights washed over them. “Cool.” He stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. Jodie’s eyes rolled back a little. “See you at school.” Hugo leaned in, kissing her. She replied promptly.
He tried not to laugh at Sione and AJ cheering from the living room window. Thankfully, Jordana couldn’t hear.
She reluctantly pulled away and skipped toward her ride. “Goodnight.” As she drove off, Hugo smiled when his superhearing caught Jordana sigh, “I’m in trouble.”
Sione and AJ were waiting when Hugo reentered. “First…” His uncle raised a hand. “Highest. Five. Ever!”
Hugo chuckled, returning the thrilled high-five. Me and Jordana. Wow…
“So,” Sione continued, all gossipy. “How long ya been boinking that yummy little goddess?”
That walloped Hugo in the chest. “Don’t call girls my age yummy little anythings! You sound like a child toucher!”
AJ burst out laughing. That drew Mom’s rebuke from the kitchen. “He’s a boy, Sione!”
“Fine, Savelina!” Sione made a childish face. “Well?” he asked quietly.
Discussing his romantic life weirded Hugo out. “Settle down, we’re not fucking!” He noticed AJ listening intently. “Go help Mom, ‘Junior.’”
AJ grumbled but obeyed.
“It’s new,” Hugo explained. “I’m still getting to know Jordana.”
Sione side-eyed him. “Biblically, I hope.”
“Oh Jesus!” Hugo forgot his uncle was worse than Simon with the euphemisms. “It’s not like that…yet.”
Sione clapped his shoulder. “If you need pointers on where to point—”
“No thanks,” Hugo interrupted with a terse hand slash, disgusted. “I’ve done this before.”
“You what?”
Hugo’s blood chilled. “Shit.” Focused on Sione, he hadn’t heard Mom leaved the kitchen. She stared back in horror.
Hugo’s cellphone vibrated. He yanked it from his pocket like a lifeline.
Betty Ortiz: Where are you?
The timing was a godsend. “Gotta go.” Hugo dashed for the door.
“Bogota—” Mom moved to intercept.
“Be back later.” Hugo slammed the door behind him. He quickly scanned the street for passing cars, jogging normally. Once under the shadow of two large tr
ees, Hugo rocketed to downtown Paso Robles.
“He arrives,” Ms. Ortiz stated impatiently once Hugo entered the first level of her shop. Wearing training sweats, long hair in a ponytail was an unusually normal look for her.
“Sorry,” Hugo apologized. “Family situation.”
She took him into the brightly lit gallery featuring many in-progress costumes. “Before we start training, we’ll see your costume!”
Hugo’s stomach buzzed like a bee’s swarm with anticipation. He skimmed over five costumes with similar colors and designs.
“Here’s how we’ll get you into the field,” Ms. Ortiz continued. “While you’re still training.”
Her infectious enthusiasm lifted Hugo out of today’s oddness. “Great,” He beamed, walking beside Ms. Ortiz. “What’s the plan?”
She stopped when they reached one mannequin draped in cloth. “You’ll be Lady Liberty’s sidekick. My sidekick!”
Hugo’s smile froze. “Sidekick,” he echoed, praying she’d misspoken.
Ms. Ortiz nodded happily. “Once you get field experience with me, we’ll discuss going solo.”
“Sidekick,” Hugo repeated as his shock waned. She’s serious. Lady Liberty saw him as her sidekick?
Ms. Ortiz, oblivious to his displeasure, yanked the cloth off the mannequin. The white costume beneath sported a head, eyes, and nose mask, the red midsection wreathed in small white stars. The ankle-high boots and gauntlets were dark blue.
Hugo’s costume was a walking American flag.
Ms. Ortiz gestured at her creation, beaming. “You’ll be…Kid Liberty!”
Hugo stopped smiling, his stomach in knots. All he could say was “Huh.”
Chapter 6
Quinn ached to slap the taste out of Rebecca Reyes’s mouth. Too bad I’m on the other side of the country, she fumed silently.
It was early Monday morning, and Quinn hadn’t slept well. Last night’s nightmares were best forgotten.
Dressed in a stylish white blouse and dark-blue jeans with horn-rimmed glasses, Quinn sat facing two screens in one of SLOCO Daily’s studios. One screen featured Ben Halbrook, host of Beyond the Cape on National News Network, focusing on heroes, villains, and supers. Halbrook cut a nimble frame in his charcoal-grey suit, with styled curly red hair and boyish handsomeness. Rebecca Reyes occupied the other screen, today’s other contributor and Quinn’s nemesis. Sitting across from Ben Halbrook in N3’s Manhattan studios, the veteran reporter wore a dark-green dress—apropos, flawlessly tanned and toned. Her dark-auburn hair was styled in that omnipresent news anchor bob blown out to perfection. At age fifty, Reyes’s face was beautiful and impossibly smooth thanks to frequent injectables and plastic surgery.