Not Your Sidekick (3 page)

Jess crafts what she hopes is a compelling cover letter and résumé and sends them in.

Ch.2...

On Saturday, Jess declines going to Crystal Springs with her parents to visit Claudia. Jess should be babysitting her younger brother, who also was “too busy” for a day trip, working on his project for an upcoming science fair, but Brendan is ridiculously self-sufficient. He hasn't left his room all day.

Jess is in the basement, looking over her collection of antique DVDs, when she hears a car pull into the driveway. Panic races through her. What if her parents' nemeses have found the house?

A door opens and shuts.

“Hey, Jess! We brought you food since you couldn't go out.” That could only be Bells' voice, bright and exuberant.

Jess grins and dashes up the stairs. She can see the Robledo's cherry red car pulling forward at an impossibly slow pace. Jess laughs; Emma must be driving. She throws open the door, and Bells is waiting on the porch, holding two delicious-smelling bags and rolling his eyes.

“Princess is still parking the car,” Bells says, shaking his head. His hair is a vivid red today, shaved short on one side and long on the other. It was purple the last time Jess saw him, but this is normal; Bells thrives on constantly changing his look. The crimson locks fall in an artful fringe, framing his face; the color is vibrant against his dark skin.

Jess seizes him in a hug, and Bells exhales audibly. “Been working out, have we?” he asks with a grin.

Well, yes, but it's not like Jess has superstrength. She knows; she's got the numbers to prove it.

“Emma! What are you doing?” She calls to where the car is still moving.

“Parking,” Emma says, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder as she reverses once more, her hand on the steering wheel. “It's gotta be perfect, you know?”

Jess shakes her head, takes one of the bags from Bells, and gestures inside.

Bells unzips his boots and toes them off, tossing them where the rest of the Trans' shoes are scattered in the entryway. He follows Jess to the kitchen, where they set down the bags and watch Emma park.

Emma rearranges the car three more times before she's satisfied and finally turns off the engine, steps out of the driver's seat, and beams as the car locks behind her. She puts her hands on her hips, and her petite frame stands proudly in the driveway. She grins; her bright lipstick matches the car perfectly.

The sleek and shiny vehicle looks out of place among the dull cars on their modest street, especially because of the steering wheel mounted on the dashboard. The driver-operated car screams of old money and connections; it's incredibly difficult for citizens to be approved for the privilege of driving. Even with Emma's parents both working in prominent government positions, it took the better part of two years for her license application to get approved.

Jess also has a license, but she can't tell anyone about it. The Smashmobile is driver-operated, and she's qualified to drive it, but only in case of emergency. Claudia got her own driver-operated car for her eighteenth birthday, but that was a gift for being accepted into the League. Jess thought the whole thing was ridiculous: Claudia could only drive it secretly. It's not like any of the middle-class Trans would have ever been approved for a license, let alone afford one of the coveted cars.

Still, Jess can't really be jealous of her friend. Emma has to share her car with her older brother, and she always offers to drive all of them.

“You didn't have to come over,” Jess says, even though she's incredibly happy to see them. “I thought I told you to go to the movie without me.”

Emma takes off her sandals and tucks them neatly into one of the cubbyholes in the entryway shelving. Jess' dad designated it for shoes, but he's the only one of the Trans who remembers to put them away in their proper place. It usually only has his shoes, and Emma's.

“No way,” Bells says.

“You ditched school yesterday,” Emma points out. “And you've been acting weird all week.”

Jess bites her lip. Emma's very intuitive, but Jess can't tell her about her superpower difficulties without revealing her family's secret. She settles for looking at her feet. “Yeah, I know, I'm sorry…” Jess mutters.

Emma shrugs. “It's okay, I mean, you don't have to tell us, you know? But I didn't want you to mope all weekend about whatever it is.”

Jess is seized by grateful appreciation and she wants to sweep Emma into a hug, but if she does that, she might burst into tears.

Emma nods, smiles, and steps into the kitchen. Bells pats Jess on the shoulder and follows Emma in. The two of them grab plates and utensils and usher Jess back downstairs. Jess is handed a plate of steaming tamales, and Bells and Emma plop down on the old, battered couches next to her and start eating and talking about the upcoming literary projects in Ms. Rhinehart's class.

Jess can't help but smile as the conversation surrounds her like a familiar and comforting blanket. She unwraps a tamale, inhales the delicious scent of the masa, and takes a bite. Jess nearly drops her fork when she tastes the seasoned beef. “Meat!” she says.

“Yeah! My uncle is visiting from New Bright City, and it was his birthday last weekend, so we went all out. You're lucky I hid the leftovers in the freezer when I did,” Emma says brightly.

Jess takes her time, savoring every bite. “Your mom is the best. Tell her thank you when you get home.”

“Of course,” Emma says, elbowing Jess. “You know that also means next time you come over, she's not going to stop feeding you.”

“I don't have a problem with that.” Jess grins through her mouthful of tamale.

“Uh-uh,” Bells says, waving his fork. “Do you remember when we were like, ten, and I said I liked that rice milk that one time? Now Mrs. Robledo always puts it out whenever I'm over, and I can't
not
drink it, even if horchata is too sweet for me.”

Jess laughs and then gets drawn into a conversation about their parents' quirks. The afternoon might seem almost the same as it was before they arrived: no real plan, just hanging out in the basement. But instead of Jess flipping channels alone, she and Emma and Bells eat and make fun of Bells' apt reactions to reruns of his favorite detective show.

Even though they've seen this particular season finale many times, Bells cries out and throws up his arms in frustration when his favorite character dies. His empty plate flips over, and pieces of corn husk and sauce fly all over the holoscreen, distorting the projection.

Emma and Jess groan in unison.

“Really,” Emma says, rolling her eyes. “Did you think it would end differently this time?”

“Shut up,” Bells says, picking up a husk and tossing it at her. He flops back onto the couch and winks a challenge.

Jess grabs Emma's plate before they start chucking food everywhere. “C'mon, guys, it takes forever to clean this thing.” She looks at the holoscreen. There's sauce splattered all over it and pieces of corn husk everywhere. Jess picks up what she can, but the image is still distorted. “I'll go get a rag,” she says.

“You have a MonRobot, though,” Emma says. “Where is that thing?”

“Chả is charging,” Jess says. “I don't think it'll be a good idea, you know how it is with stairs—”

“Chả!” Emma calls loudly. “Please come clean this up!”

“Cancel clean order,” Jess says immediately, hoping her voice carries enough, but it's too late; she can already hear metal clanging upstairs.

A few moments later, Chả's oblong silver body comes tumbling down the stairs, bouncing off the steps with heavy thunks. The little lights in Chả's display blink rapidly when it sees Emma and Bells.

Oh no, it's going to try and impress them
. No verbal commands will stop it now; nothing short of manually rebooting the MonRobot's system or uninstalling the A.I. will stop it once it has a task in mind.

Jess slumps on the couch and watches helplessly as Emma directs Chả to the mess. The robot shakes eagerly, rolls right to the holoscreen, and starts the cleaning process. Chả's display screen flickers orange to signal a “busy” mode, and it starts sweeping methodically, an inch at a time.

“You do realize this is gonna take an hour,” Jess says.

Bells shrugs. “You've got something better to do? Because this is pretty entertaining.”

Emma is directing Chả at the holoscreen. The robot is stalled, cheeping at Emma.

“Like this,” Emma says, moving in a circular motion, hips swaying.

Chả follows suit, spinning around the screen, whirring as it cleans. Bells is watching Emma; his expression seems wistful. Jess watches and smiles; it's odd how someone who's so animated can get so focused. Bells glances back at Jess and shifts when he notices her watching. Jess lifts an eyebrow and watches with delight as Bells starts to blush.

“You know, I think I have a lot of homework,” Jess says. “You two should go watch the movie. I'm cool here.”

Emma looks up. “What? No, we came over to hang out with
you.
”

“We'll watch that movie next week,” Bells says, running a hand through his hair. No matter what he does, the overall effect is always unmistakably
cool.
The way he's lying on the couch should look ridiculous: upside down, feet dangling over the back of the couch, lanky frame sprawled everywhere. But he looks as if he belongs in a fashion magazine.

“We could just… leave,” Emma says, waggling her eyebrows. “I mean, Brendan totally doesn't need someone to babysit him; he hasn't left his room for hours.” Brendan had actually come downstairs during an episode of
The Gentleman Detective
to grab a box of circuits, but he'd taken one look at Jess' friends and squeaked, “Hi, Emma and Bells!” before dashing back up the stairs.

He is largely self-sufficient, if a bit socially awkward. Jess can't blame him; Bells' hair does look spectacular today.

“Yeah, but he might try and use the stove again, and last time he almost set the kitchen on fire,” Jess says. “You guys should go watch the movie. Chả is gonna take forever.”

“You know, we don't have to use the holoscreen to watch a movie,” Emma says, glancing over to the shelf where Jess hides her DVD collection.

Bells' eyes widen. “Jess! You still have that vision-tella thing?” He sits up, and his back goes rigid. “You know that we're supposed to surrender any pre-Collective tech so it can be recycled!”

“I know,” Jess says. “But, um, my dad, when he was flipping this old house, found this storage locker, and I just really wanted to see if they had a sequel to that movie we watched last week.”

Several weeks ago, Shockwave had actually taken one of Master Mischief 's caches in a successful raid and had found boxes of contraband tech and media. Victor hadn't turned it in to the League yet, and Jess—Jess loved the stuff. She'd hidden a television and a box of DVDs a few months ago when they uncovered the first stash, and she and her friends have pored through every movie. Jess couldn't just turn in this new stash without looking through it. She put together a box of some of the tech—movies she didn't like, electronics that didn't work, random assorted cables, a clunky rectangular player that didn't take the DVDs—and gave all of it to her father to turn in to the League. Jess knows the laws about pre-Collective tech are to conserve resources and she agrees that's incredibly important, but she doesn't see the point of banning most of the media produced before 2035. Why is Shakespeare allowed but
Star Wars
isn't? The Collective banned most of Jess' favorite films.

It was sheer luck that her parents found another cache just a few days ago. Jess hasn't had time to go through the films, and had been hoping to watch them with her friends, but she hadn't counted on Bells being such a stickler for the rules.

“Come on, these films from Old America aren't that cool anyways.” Bells crosses his legs, leans back, and scrunches up his face. “Like the picture was all flat, and it's boring, not being able to see it from whatever angle you want.”

“Really? I remember you really liking this one.” Jess presses the hidden lever under the bottom shelf, and the back panel opens to reveal her hidden compartment. She roots about and pulls out a colorful plastic case that's decorated with Old America's superheroes, before anyone actually had powers. The film was a lot of fun, and Jess liked the story a lot more than what passes for entertainment in the Collective. She waves the case and sees Bells' eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Bells huffs in mock reluctance. “You know me too well.” He takes the case and reads the title and summary fondly. “Yeah, we can watch this again.”

Jess reaches back inside the compartment. “Didn't I say I found the sequel?”

Bells' mouth falls open, and he's already making grabby hands. “I guess it's all right,” he admits. “I mean, you're going to turn all of it in after we watch it, right?”