The Rise of Renegade X (19 page)

W
hen we get to Vilmore, I call up everyone I know who goes to school here. Five people, but I don’t get ahold of any of them.

“I used to hang with a bad crowd,” I tell Sarah when she raises her eyebrows at me.

“Oh, right,” she says. “Since you spent all that time at Eastwood as a delinquent.” She laughs to herself.

“I told you I’m half supervillain.” I grin, making it seem less serious than it is.

Sarah smiles, then just looks worried. “How
are
we going to get in?”

All the outside doors at Vilmore open for supervillains only. As in, real supervillains, which means not me. You have to have a thumbprint with a
V
on it to get in anywhere important. I bite my lip and sigh. “There’s one more person I can call.” My shoulders slump in defeat as I dial Pete’s number.

He knows it’s me when he picks up. “Damien!”

I find it suspicious that he sounds happy to hear from me. Then again, he sounds like he’s been drinking. Maybe he’s too inebriated to remember he hates me. I tell him I’m on campus and I want to come see him.

“Great. Come on up, man. I’m having a party.” He laughs. It’s been about two weeks since my birthday—maybe he’s celebrating getting over all the itchy pustules. “With you here, it’ll be just like old times.”

There’s something sinister about the way he says it, and chills twitch up and down my back as I hang up. On second thought, maybe he
does
remember he hates me.

I smile at Sarah anyway. “What did I tell you?
Easy.”
I ask her to wait for me outside the main office building while I make my way to Pete’s dorm. Things will be less complicated the less I have to explain to him. Pete lets me up when I get there. He lives on the second floor, so I only have to maneuver one staircase. I can hear the party as I walk down the hall. Even if I didn’t know which room was his, I could guess it’s the one with the open door and the loud music.

“Look who’s here!” Pete shouts when I appear in the doorway.

No one I recognize. I wonder what he meant by “just like old times.” There are four guys sitting around in the common room Pete shares with a couple other people—probably
these
people—all four wearing pajama sets they bought at the student store: T-shirts and sweatpants with big
Vs
on them. Nobody looks familiar. Three of them look up when I come in and raise their drinks at me, though I can tell by their expressions that they have no idea who I am, either.

The fourth one is too busy making out with the redhead in his lap to care. Okay, that’s not true. His eyes flick over to me for a second, probably to see if I’m female. Then the girl sticking her tongue down his throat notices me. She shoves herself off him and stumbles, falling down once, then steadying herself with the coffee table. She smiles at me. She has wavy red hair, green eyes, and a short leather skirt and fishnet stockings. “Damien!”

It’s not the sound of her voice but the way she says my name that makes me want to throw up. My heart stops beating. “Kat.”

She morphs into herself, short straight black hair, clear blue eyes, and a thin nose.

Pete is sitting on the arm of his couch. Laughing. He has half-circle pockmark scars all over him. I warned him not to scratch.

I catch Kat in my arms as she flops against me. The guy I stole her from glares at us.

“Kat,” I say as she wraps her arms around me and slides to the floor, resting her face against my knee, “what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like she’s doing here?” Pete says. “Having a good time without you.”

One of the bedroom doors in the back opens up, and two girls in tight clothes and another guy in rumpled Vilmore pajamas strut out. The girls give Kat a dirty look when they see her on her knees.

“Why did you even invite her?” one of them says, her tone as snobby as possible. She flicks her curly blond hair behind her shoulder. She sits next to Pete and shakes her head. The second one sneers at me.

Yeah, I bet they don’t like the girl who changes into whatever a guy wants her to be for the next five minutes.

“I invited her cousin, not her,” Pete says. “I told Julie to come
alone
. Girl never listens.”

“Kat …” I glare at Pete, then get my arms under Kat’s and drag her to her feet. Those rippling muscles I don’t have would come in handy right about now. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Julie ditched me,” Kat whines. “She said it would be a fun party, and I could forget about … about you. She didn’t say Pete would be here. Not you, either.” Kat’s eyes fill with tears. She touches my face, sliding her hands down my cheeks. “I always loved your ears,” she says. “And your nose. And your … eyebrows.”

Forget about me? “Let’s talk about it later. You have to go home.”

“No!” Kat shouts. She reminds me of my two-year-old half sister, Jessica. Great. A really hot sixteen-year-old girl with the mental powers of a toddler in a room full of drunken college guys. And if she’s not hot enough for them, she can turn herself into anything they want her to be.

Kat drapes her arm over my shoulders and pulls me down with her into an armchair. She licks the side of my face and tries to stick her hands down my pants.

“Kat, don’t.” I grab her wrists.

Conversation continues like normal around us—nobody cares what we’re doing. The guy who made out with Kat goes off into a bedroom with one of the other girls. I hear two of the guys cough the word
slut
as soon as they’re gone.

It’s a tight fit with both me and Kat in the chair, and we’re even cozier than when we’d hang out on her bed and watch TV, both secretly wishing we could do more than that. Only now I’m freaked because I caught her drunk at a party, making out with some guy. To forget about me, ’cause I told her it was never going to happen. “Kat,” I say, my voice shaking, “tell me you only made out. Not … not anything more than that.”

Kat glares at me. “Why? You’re not my boyfriend. You don’t care.”

That was the plan. In hindsight, I can see how it might be flawed. Her not being my girlfriend doesn’t make me any less pissed to find her here. Except this time around, it’s not cheating, because I turned her down—I said it was never going to happen. We’re close, but I said we were only friends-close, meaning I don’t have a right to be jealous. Some crappy plan that was.

“I’m your friend,” I tell her. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

Kat wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. “Damien,” she says, “we were supposed to get
married.”

Whoa. This is news to me. She sounds serious about it, but that could be the booze talking.

“Looks like somebody won’t be wearing white,” the blond girl mutters. Everybody laughs. So much for not paying attention to us.

I move to stand up, dumping Kat off me. She tries to hold on, but I’m too wily and coordinated for her. “Don’t go!” she wails, reaching after me and almost falling off the chair.

I tell her I’ll be back. I tell everyone else that if they touch her while I’m gone, they can ask Pete what will happen to them. Then I step into the hall and call Kat’s mom. I have a nice chat with her about the horrible teenage travesties her daughter is getting herself into, keeping an eye on Kat through the open doorway.

I sigh as I hang up and rejoin the party. I look over at Kat, who seems pretty out of it. Good—that way she won’t witness what I’m about to do.

Instead of settling back down with her, I head straight for Pete. I stand in front of him, twiddling my thumbs and not making eye contact.

Pete smirks. “Looks like I’m not the only one your girl will ditch you for. Guess she’d rather be having a good time with
anyone
than hanging out with you.”

I am
so
a good time. As Pete is about to find out. “Pete,”

I say, my throat constricting, “I have to tell you something. I can’t wait any longer. I want to apologize.”

Pete sets his drink down and folds his arms. “Here it comes. I’ve been waiting all year for this.”

I lick my lips. “I was jealous. Back when you and Kat … you know.”

“Keep talkin’.”

I glance around the room at everyone, like them being present makes me really nervous. “And that thing with the invitation …” I stare at my shoes. There’s mud caked around the edges. “I couldn’t stand the idea of you being with anybody else. I wanted to make it so no one would want you. Not Kat and not
Vanessa
.” I sneer at her name. I don’t know if any of the girls here are “Vanessa,” but I get the feeling Pete’s steady girlfriend wouldn’t be invited to this kind of party.

Pete uncrosses his arms. He looks around the room, like he’s wondering if everybody else heard the same thing he did. “What?”

I speak really quietly. I make quick eye contact with him, then look away. “It’s you, Pete. You’re the one I’ve always … I didn’t want anyone else to have you! We were so close, and then
she
came along.” I glare at Kat, who’s asleep and has no idea what I’m saying. “She led us both astray.” Then I slide my hand over Pete’s knee. “It’s been so lonely without you this year, Pete.”

“Oh, no. You are
not
doin’ this.”

Oh, yes, I am. I force so much emotion into my voice that tears spring up in my eyes. “I’ve had to hold back all these feelings for you. I just want to know you don’t hate me!”

Pete swears under his breath. He looks around the room for help, but even though everyone is staring at us, nobody offers to pull me off of him.

I lunge at Pete, knocking him off the arm of the couch. Pete scrambles to his feet and backs up. “Damien, man, this isn’t cool.”

I hold my arms out and walk toward him, like I’m going to hug him. Pete runs out of space and ends up doubling back and hitting the edge of the couch. He topples over it and lands on the cushions below. The blond girl makes a face and scoots as far away as possible. Until I chase after Pete and join him on the couch. Then she jumps up and moves to the other side of the room.

“Pete, Pete!” I moan, sliding my hands under his shirt.

He knees me in the stomach, holding me off as I struggle to get closer to him. He’s a lot stronger than me. “Damien, I’m serious!”

“Just tell me you don’t hate me!”

“I don’t hate you! Now get off of me!”

I stop struggling and dive for his belt buckle. Pete takes the bait and sits up to stop me. I’ve got him right where I want him. Now that he’s close enough, I grab his chin with both hands. I put my lips on his and kiss him before he has a chance to fight me off. The kiss involves tongues. Or at least my tongue—Pete’s doing his best not to reciprocate.

When Pete finally manages to push me away, everyone in the room but Kat is watching us with wide eyes and undivided attention.

Pete is silent. I can’t tell if he feels violated, newly smitten, or if he feels sorry for me and our love that can never be.

“Pete,” I say, sounding guilty, “I have another confession to make.”

Pete nods, too dazed to answer.

A grin creeps across my face. “I threw up earlier.” Okay, so I only
almost
threw up, when stomach and lemon meringue fought it out after the car crash, but Pete doesn’t have to know that.

Pete’s nostrils flare and a vein twitches on his forehead. “Damien, you freaking
psycho!”

I take it that’s my cue to get off of him before he gets physical. And not like I just did, but in more unpleasant ways, like those of the painful beating variety.

All his other guests giggle and snicker at us.

“That’s it,” Pete shouts, getting to his feet, “everybody out!
Now!”

“I live here, man,” one of the guys mutters. But he gets up and shuffles off to one of the bedrooms.

I flop down in the chair with Kat.

Pete shoos everybody else out and slams the door. He turns off the music. Then he glares at me. “That means you, too, you psychotic little bastard.”

I put my arm around Kat and glare right back at him. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want to be the one to explain to her parents how you got her drunk and let her make out with your friends.” I smile at him. “Don’t mess with me, Pete. You never win.”

Pete grunts and storms out of his own dorm room.

I settle in with Kat. She moans and leans her head against my chest. She and I are very cozy as I hunker down, ready to wait the forty minutes it’ll take her parents to get here.

It isn’t until an hour later that I go to find Sarah. I have a big wet puddle of drool on my shirt—Kat’s, not mine—and two guest passes I swiped from Pete’s bulletin board for prospective students and visiting younger siblings who haven’t gotten their
V
s yet. The school puts a couple up in every dorm room with important phone numbers and reminders about Parents’ Day.

At first I think Sarah is watching a couple of dogs chasing each other across the lawn. She’s sitting on a bench, under a lamppost, scribbling away in her notebook. Then I see it’s the couple groping each other behind a tree, not the dogs, that’s caught her interest.