by C. C. Ekeke
Hugo stared him down until the kid paled, stammered out an apology, and fled. He tapped the shoulder of the girl ahead of him. “You good, Taylor?”
Taylor von Stratton looked at him and blushed. “Yeah.” She was short and stacked, her plump cheeks begging to be squeezed. “Thanks, Hugo.” The pair flirted a bit until they grabbed their respective meals.
“You handled that jackass,” Brent praised once Hugo and the others walked away, “like nothing.”
Hugo rolled his eyes, knowing where this led. Raphael did too. “Lawd, Brent.”
“You’re a beast!” Brent gestured with his soft drink, awestruck. “Share some workout tips with your brosef.”
Hugo winced. Brent couldn’t handle his workout, which included bench-pressing eighteen-wheelers. “You’re already ripped, Brent,” he deflected. “And killing it in basketball.”
Brent deflated. “I guess. But you know who’s returning to practice soon?”
Hugo’s humor curdled. “Unfortunately.” Right on target, he and his friends almost ran into a pack of towering basketball players. Tension immediately spiked. Hugo could feel the eyes watching all over the quad, teachers included. Most of the ballplayers, included shaggy-haired Cody Banks and bald Harlan Mills, threw salty looks at Hugo and Brent. The Samoan's eyes locked on one player.
Sebastian “Baz” Martinez stood in their midst, hair shaved on the sides and slicked left on top. Baz stiffened, his default reaction whenever seeing Hugo now. He was still recovering, ribs taped up and his ankle in a boot cast. DeDamien had transferred to some asshole factory private school last month. His wealthy parents were suing San Luis Obispo school district. TJ had returned to school, broken jaw wired shut. Paso High still searched for who’d assaulted Baz, TJ Kim, and DeDamien Harris, convinced a rival school’s athletes were the culprits.
Baz knew the truth. And a compromising recording from Hugo’s ex-girlfriend kept him quiet.
Hugo removed his shades. Baz looked so breakable. And weak.
Baz shivered under his glare. Lionel Wagner, the handsome varsity captain, guided Baz away. “C’mon, bro.” He eyed Hugo with muted disgust before his team approached their usual lunch spot.
Hugo watched them go. Hatred notwithstanding, seeing Baz also evoked shame. Yeah, Presley had manipulated Hugo, but he had nearly killed Baz.
Lady Liberty had given great advice when Hugo didn’t know how to handle the guilt. “Make Baz a reminder of the power you wield. Use that guilt to be a better hero each day.” She usually spouted fortune cookie answers like that.
Brent’s insecurities jarred Hugo back to now. “Once Baz gets healthy, there goes my point guard spot.”
Hugo faced him. “Don’t let him take it.”
“Bogie’s right,” Simon chimed in. “Fight for what’s yours.”
Brent looked touched by Simon’s encouragement. Hugo smiled watching this bromance blossom.
The foursome reached three benches where their friends sat near the auditorium. Grace, Wale, Groban, and JT were already eating. The lovely Stanley twins, Marin and Karin, arrived in matching spaghetti-strap dresses. These six plus Hugo made up the Fab Phenoms dance crew. Everyone exchanged hellos and high-fives. Almost three months and Hugo still couldn’t believe he was in this awesome clique.
“Practice after school?” he asked Wale. With all his superhero training, dance practice attendance was limited. But the Fab Phenoms was the slice of normal he needed.
“Yup.” Wale nodded, his braids jostling. “Freestyling and a new routine.”
Hugo beamed. “Excitement. We’ll correct your angry dancing.”
Wale scowled. “I dance with PASSION, fool!”
“Shut your hole already, Lia!”
Hugo flinched, even though the bitchy voice came from across the quad. “I’m not celebrating my Division One championship at some restaurant where the food looks like throw-up.”
A procession of gorgeous and glammed-up sophomore girls strutted from the burrito stand, grabbing stares from horny boys and jealous girls. The leader, Briseis El-Saden, looked flawless as usual in a black monogrammed onesie, her confidence reeking like a rarified perfume. Her sleek auburn hair was parted and up in a high ponytail with a golden headband. Brie’s face, fit for any fashion magazine, was a beautiful mask of disdain. Word around campus revealed many wins for Brie recently, like her varsity tennis Division One victory. Other rumors revealed cracks in that perfect façade; her parents’ bitter divorce, her brother moving out, and rumors of drunken blackouts at parties.
Hugo and Brie hadn’t spoken since Fall Fling, reduced to sporadic glowers whenever their eyes did meet. Seeing Briseis no longer filled Hugo with hate for her. The only hate that arose was for his former pathetic version self that once loved Brie more than anything.
Hugo averted his gaze to Brie’s squad. Jen Thomas, aka J-Tom, long-limbed with a wavy ginger bob, walked beside her. Lia Kim, petite and medium pretty, vied for Brie’s attention like a hungry puppy. Natalie Rodriguez and Spencer Michelman took up the rear.
“Ciopinot,” Natalie suggested, voluptuous and pretty, long hair streaked with caramel. “My dad and his baseball team are regulars.”
Brie shook her head in sharp disapproval. “Been there, done that, bought the collector’s mug.”
“Carmello’s?” Spencer offered. “I know the owner.” Her bored, foxlike face wasn’t caked with excessive makeup or bronzer—huge improvement. Spencer was looking super sexy nowadays, in Hugo’s viewpoint. Her black hair was longer, messier. She’d ditched the preppy attire for a collared green romper, flattering her legs and thicker curves.
Brie quickly warmed to this suggestion. “Love it, Spence. Everyone must get glammed up.”
Hugo perked up, counting only five girls. “It’s true,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Brent answered. “I called Jodie after Natalie’s text declared her persona non gratin.”
“Persona non grata,” Hugo corrected, scanning the quad. He found Jodie near the glassy Science & Tech building with her softball crew. Damn, she looked delicious—long hair in her usual up-down style, wearing a white and blue Bearcats softball jersey with baggy jeans.
Jodie was gossiping with teammates when her and Hugo’s eyes met. Dizzying heat rushed to Hugo’s loins. God, she’s hot. Jordana smiled, her breath hitching from afar.
Hugo turned to Simon. “Guess you can’t call them the Sinister Six anymore.”
The Korean boy chuckled, popping fries into his mouth. “They’re The Feckless Five.”
Hugo cringed. “Not your best burn, Simon.”
Brie’s squad reached the jocks’ grassy spot under shaded benches, receiving greetings from Paso High’s varsity athletes. Natalie and Spencer cozied up beside upperclassman athletes. Brie sat on Baz’s lap, planting a big kiss on him. Yep, they were back together. J-Tom watched Spencer flirting with the jocks, a strange expression on her face. Lia, beside her, looked forlorn. “My family goes to that Korean barbecue every weekend.”
“I know,” J-Tom soothed. “Brie’s in a mood today.”
“Brie’s always in a mood,” Lia complained. “No wonder Jodie threw soda on her.”
Hugo smirked. Wish I’d seen that.
J-Tom fought down laughter and glanced in Hugo’s direction. Smirking, she poked Lia. “I see your Korean husband.”
Lia shoved J-Tom away, blushing. “Shut up!”
Hugo followed Lia’s embarrassed stare, gaped, and guffawed.
Simon frowned at him. “What?”
Hugo leaned in, snickering. “Lia Kim likes you.”
Simon almost choked on his fries. “Bullshit!” He looked over at Lia and curled his lip. “Won’t lie. She’s cute. But her head’s so far up Brie’s ass, she can see her breakfast.”
“Who are we gossiping about, boys?” Grace swaggered up to Hugo and Simon. Her outfit was a fitted Native American print caftan with a scarf and white porkpie hat. “I hear mutterings.”
“No one,” Simon
blurted out.
“Someone likes Simon,” Hugo revealed, to his friend’s horror.
“Really?” Grace remarked eagerly.
Simon bristled. “Don’t look so shocked.”
The hostility startled Grace. “I’m…not. Who is it?”
While they bickered like a married couple, Hugo spied Jordana crossing the quad. She didn’t look up, sashaying to the auditorium down the tunnel, putting on a show for Hugo to watch. And he was.
A minute later, Hugo stood. “Be right back.” He followed Jordana, feeling many eyes on him.
Hugo found her at the student store across from the auditorium. The store was awash with Bearcats souvenirs, paraphernalia, and student supplies. Jordana was scanning the aisles with disinterest. Desire squeezed Hugo’s chest as he crept up from behind. Sticking fingers in Jodie’s back pocket, he gave a gentle yank. She yelped, spun around right into his arms.
Hugo grinned at Jordana’s pitter-pattering heartbeat. She felt warm, soft. “Hey, babe,” he murmured in deeper tones. Hugo reached out, brushing hair from her shoulder with a feather-light touch.
Jodie gulped, fingers digging into his chest. “Hey, you,” she purred up at him.
“I wanna see you tonight,” Hugo declared.
Jordana winced and eased from his arms. “I got softball practice. And an English Lit paper to finish.”
Hugo shrugged, open to flexibility. “Let’s make it a study session.”
Jodie’s response was sheepish. “Doubt we’ll get much work done. Rain check?”
A pang of disappointment needled Hugo’s chest. He quickly released the emotion before it rooted. After how Brie had treated him, Hugo refused to beg any girl for scraps.
“Okay…” he replied nonchalantly, no longer disappointed. “We’ll hang when we hang.” Hugo turned to leave the store.
Jodie’s breath caught again. Hugo smiled, knowing what would happen next.
“What are you doing now?” she asked, husky and eager.
Hugo stopped and turned. “Answering you,” he snarked.
“Ten minutes till lunch ends.” Jodie stepped toward him with a head gesture at the auditorium that was pure invitation. Her fingers entwined with his.
“Works for me.” Hugo let Jodie lead him out of the store and to the auditorium.
Once the fifth period bell rang, Hugo left the auditorium, grinning his face off. Best ten minutes of lunch ever. A study date was planned for tomorrow.
Hugo’s good mood was fouled when he got home. AJ shoved an iPad in his face showing SLOCO Daily’s homepage. “Another teen suicide bomber.”
Hugo snatched his brother’s tablet. “Seriously?” This one had been in SLO County, at Lake Nacimiento. Raul Serrano, an Arroyo Grande High junior. Fifteen reported dead. Hugo’s chest tightened to painful levels. “What sicko is doing this to them?”
“Go after this guy,” AJ demanded, “or woman.”
Hugo gaped but relaxed after listening around the house. Mom was at work. Uncle Sione wasn’t home. “I wouldn’t know where to start. And Lady Liberty hasn’t said that I’m field ready.”
AJ side-eyed him. “You shouldn’t need permission to protect people.”
AJ was right. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. And Hugo did have a contact who could help. “I’ll look into it.”
Half an hour later, Hugo called his contact before heading to dance practice. She answered after one ring. “Hello, stranger!”
Hugo grinned. “Hey, Ms. Bauer.”
“You saved my life, Hugo,” Quinn replied, a smile in her voice. “Call me Quinn.”
Hugo chuckled. She sounds like Jordana. “Okay, Quinn.” Using an adult’s first name felt weird, even if Quinn was in her mid-twenties. “Is your offer to help me still good?”
“Yes!” Quinn replied. “What do you need?”
“Great.” Hugo steeled himself to ask about the suicide bombers…and hesitated. Fear of Lady Liberty’s disapproval left him paralyzed. “Just checking.”
“Okay…” Quinn replied. “Call me whenever.”
Ask, idiot! “Okay.” Hugo hung up, cursing his own cowardice. He almost called back, then realized how stupid that would appear. “Shit,” he seethed, stuffing the cellphone in his pocket, then sped off to dance practice.
Chapter 10
“Party people!” Wale called out, drawing all eyes in the dance studio. “Gather around.”
Hugo wiped the sweat off his buzzcut head and approached, wearing loose dance clothing. Clustering around Wale with him were the rest of the Fab Phenoms: Grace, Groban, JT, and the strawberry-blonde Stanley twins.
Aeon Studios, a small dance workspace at the borders of Paso Robles and San Miguel, was where the Phenoms practiced three days a week. Hugo attended only two days because of superhero training. They got free access thanks to Grace working at Aeon every other Sunday.
Wale pulled out the band holding his braids, bursting with eagerness. “Great practice. And great news.”
Excitement rippled through the group. Karin and Marin eyed each other. “Do tell!” the twins purred.
“A dance competition?” Groban asked, toweling his fabulous dark mane.
Grace nodded and smiled. “Rock the Beach B-Boy Competition in a few weeks.”
“And the Fab Phenoms are entered,” Wale finished. The group erupted.
Hugo fist-bumped with JT. “Fan-fucking-tastic!”
Wale wasn’t done. “We need everyone’s best.” He turned to Hugo. “And full commitment.”
All smiles vanished. Everyone averted their stares elsewhere. Hugo shrugged off getting singled out. He didn’t expect to return to the Phenoms with everything forgiven. “I’m game,” Hugo assured.
Wale glared back. “Your schedule says otherwise.” Groban and Marin exchanged a glance. JT snorted.
This isn’t only him. Hugo swallowed budding irritation. Wale had claimed his reduced schedule wasn’t a problem. “My schedule's locked,” Hugo declared. “But I’m committed to this crew.”
Grace gave Wale a warning look. “You said you wanted to start fresh.”
Wale's thin shoulders slumped. “I do.”
“Then start fresh,” Grace ordered, ending the debate. Another reason why Hugo loved G-Mama.
Wale looked to Hugo. “Sorry.”
Hugo waved off the apology. “No worries.”
As everyone dispersed, he pulled Grace aside. “Thanks,” he said.
She shouldered her gym bag, unusually stern. “Thank me by coming through in a few weeks.”
Hugo walked home most of the way instead of superspeeding. It let him soak in the sights, smells, and sounds of San Miguel’s evening. He also considered Grace’s and Wale’s words. Their skepticism was justified. The last time Hugo had performed with the Phenoms was after Dad's death. He’d started a brawl with another crew during the performance. Hugo wouldn’t screw up like that again. But when Lady Liberty thinks I’m field-ready? Supervillains wouldn’t wait for him to finish dance competitions. Hugo knew he couldn’t delay choosing between superheroics or dancing much longer.
Speaking of Lady Liberty, Hugo felt better after asking her about the teen suicide bombings.
“The local authorities are taking this case seriously, after the Lake Nacimiento attack,” she had assured. “If they’re still stumped, we’ll ask Geist’s team to investigate.”
But even though no bombings had happened since, worry kept gnawing at Hugo. Some psycho was turning kids into suicide bombers. For now, like with his awful costume and codename, he’d trust Lady Liberty’s wisdom.
When Hugo got home, Mom and Uncle Sione were upstairs. AJ was still at soccer practice. He raced up to his bedroom to drop off his backpack and gym bag.
Hugo opened his room door and froze.
Uncle Sione was squatting inside Hugo’s closet, tossing items aside without care. He pulled out a silvery package holding Hugo’s Kid Liberty costume with great interest.
Hugo’s heart lurched. In
an instant, he reached the closet, yanking Sione out by the collar more forcefully than required. Hugo was too furious to care. “What the hell?”
Sione stumbled backward, quickly regaining balance. He looked rattled by his nephew’s strength. “Easy, kid,” Sione said coolly. “I need something in there.” He weaved around Hugo as if everything was kosher.
Hugo shoved him back as gently as his anger allowed. Any harder and Sione would’ve flown across the bedroom. “Stay out of my shit,” Hugo barked.
Sione’s rough-hewn face twisted. “You need to watch your voice, boy.” He puffed out his chest.
Hugo got right in his face, unimpressed. “You’re in my room, in my closet without my permission!” he snarled through clenched teeth. Time to establish house rules. “You need to watch your ass!”
Uncle Sione backpedaled in alarm, clearly grasping who the alpha was.
“Hey!” Mom’s voice broke the tension. She rushed into Hugo's room wearing maroon nursing scrubs and wedged herself between the two. “What is going on?”
Sione jabbed an accusing finger at Hugo. “Your son's disrespectful, Lina.”
“Sione was in my closet, going through my stuff,” Hugo countered, watching Mom pointedly.
Her face darkened in comprehension. She glared at her younger brother. “I said to wait for Bogota.”
Sione shrank back. “I figured doing it myself was faster.”
“Don’t do that again.” Her firm voice left no room for argument. Mom turned to her eldest. “Hugo…” She softened and touched his wrist. “Your uncle meant no harm.”
Hugo gave Sione a hostile onceover. “Sure,” he replied sourly, blood still boiling.
“I’m leaving for my shift.” Mom’s eyes danced cautiously between both men. “Dallas’s parents are dropping AJ off at Apple Farm. Can you two pick him up and get dinner without killing each other?”
“Yes,” both Hugo and Sione agreed, barely making eye contact.
“Good.” Mom sighed, semi-convinced. She turned to leave.
“Savelina,” Sione called out. “Don’t forget what we discussed.” He held out a hand expectantly.
Mom jolted. “Oh, right.”
Hugo was confused watching her scurry from the bedroom. Then she returned three minutes later with a fistful of Benjamins. Every visit, Sione angled for handouts. And Mom never refused him. She handed Sione at least five hundred dollars, which he stuffed in his pocket smugly.