The Trials of Renegade X (35 page)

I fidget and shift my weight from one foot to the other, just wanting to get this over with. “Is Mom home? I need to see her.”

He glances over his shoulder, which I guess means she
is
home, and then back at me, looking worried. Like he’s thinking I’m the last person she ever wants to see again and maybe he shouldn’t let me in.

“It won’t take long,” I tell him, “and then she can get back to pretending I don’t exist.”

He sighs. “That’s not ...” He clears his throat and leans in closer to me. “We’re getting married this Christmas. Your mother and I are.”

As if I didn’t know who he meant. I roll my eyes at him. “I
know
. She told me. At the hospital, when ...” When Xavier was born. “It’s not like I didn’t know you guys were engaged. I’m not going to, like, flip out or anything. I know you must have seen the videos, but I’m not here to blow up the house.”

He flinches a little at that. “What I’m trying to say is that I think—I know—she wants you there, but I’m afraid she doesn’t know how to ask you.”

“She doesn’t know how to ask me to her own wedding?” The one she wasn’t even going to tell me about? I shake my head, not buying that. “That’s because she
doesn’t
want me to come.” Not, like, in a million years.

“But I’m certain that she does. And I want our wedding day to be perfect for her, and that’s not going to happen unless you’re there.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. The idea that she needs me at all, but especially at her wedding, is ridiculous.

“I know this is difficult for you,” he says, “but it’s true. She’s not really going to be happy unless you attend, and you’ve made it very clear you don’t want to have anything to do with her.”

“That goes both ways. Don’t pretend like she wanted to talk to me all this time, like she didn’t just go out and get herself a new son to replace me with.”

He holds up a hand. “This means a lot to her, and I know she doesn’t know how to ask you. Not after everything that’s happened between you. And I also know she’ll regret it if she doesn’t. So,
I’m
asking you.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You’re seriously inviting me to your wedding right now?”

“Yes.”

“And you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s—”

Mom’s voice interrupts him, shouting from within the house, “Honeybuns, who was at the door?”

“It’s ...” He seems to think better of telling her I’m here. “Just a minute, sugar lemon!”

Barf. I do
not
miss hearing their stupid pet names for each other.

Taylor gestures for me to come inside. I step into the hallway, and for a moment, it feels like I never left. Like nothing’s changed at all. And then we get to the living room, and I see that
everything’s
changed.

For one thing, it’s not messy. I mean, not that there’s no mess at all—there’s a bunch of baby stuff on the coffee table and a big pile of laundry on the couch, though it’s folded—but there are also new shelves lining the walls and some big plastic drawers. Everything is organized, and all the drawers are color-coded and labeled alphabetically. It’s like stepping into opposite-world or something.

“We’ve made some changes,” Taylor says. “We had to baby-proof the house, and it just made sense.”

“Wow, really? Cleaning up and putting everything away ’just made sense’?” I smack my palm against my forehead. “Why didn’t
I
ever think of that?” My mom’s been messy and unorganized my whole life, and now stupid Xavier comes along and she turns over a new leaf?

Taylor glares at me. “Stay here.” He runs off into Mom’s bedroom—er, their bedroom, I guess, which is gross—and returns holding a fancy white envelope. He hands it to me. “For the wedding,” he says quietly. “And if you decide not to come ... I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to her.”

As if I’m going to mention it to her either way or speak to her any more than I have to.

The envelope has silver writing on it that says,
You’re invited.
I open it, and inside is a cream-colored card claiming that Marianna Locke and Taylor Lewis, along with their son, Xavier Locke, are inviting me—well, not me specifically, but the recipient of the card—to attend their very special day. As if Xavier has any say in it or any feelings about it whatsoever. Though I guess if he did, he’d probably be happy, since they’re his parents. It’s not going to be gross or make him feel weird to see them together, like it does me.

“You don’t have to bring anything,” Taylor says, noticing me still staring at the card with all the wedding info on it.

“Right, because I won’t be there.” Not that I want to go, but even if I did, if I can’t go to Homecoming with Kat because she’s a supervillain, then I sure as hell can’t go to my mom’s wedding. Then people would figure out
exactly
which supervillain the Crimson Flash slept with, which would be yet another scandal. Plus, I know Mom would throw a fit if I showed up and ruined her wedding day, no matter what Taylor says.

“Please, at least think about it.” He gives me this sad look, like he already knows that I’m not going to, then says, “She’s in the nursery.”

The nursery? This is only a two-bedroom house, so I don’t know where there’d be room for a— Oh. He means she’s in my room. Or what was my room, I guess.

I slip the wedding invitation in my pocket and go down the hall. My door—er, the nursery door—is open.

“Who was at the—” Mom cuts off, gasping in surprise when she sees me in the doorway. She’s sitting on the floor with ... Well, with what must be Xavier. He has the same red hair as her, but he’s a
lot
bigger than the last time I saw him. I don’t know how fast newborns are supposed to grow, but I know that at not even one month old, he definitely shouldn’t be crawling around on the floor. Or holding Mom’s hand and trying to stand.

She gapes at me, her jaw trembling.

“Hi, Mom. I do
not
like what you’ve done with the place.” The walls of my room used to be blue, but now she’s painted them yellow. Like blue wasn’t good enough. Like she’s over it. And instead of my bed, there’s a crib and a changing table. And of course there’s the toddler on the floor, which I could really do without.

Mom gets up, leaving Xavier in the lurch with no one to steady him as he tries to stand. “Damien, what are you doing here?” She sounds surprised. And maybe worried.

I hold up the personality enhancer and get right to the point. “I need your help.”

She glares at me. “
That’s
why you’re here? I watched you get shot at on the evening news and had to hear from someone else that you were all right, because you didn’t even have the decency to
call your mother
and tell her you were okay, and now you’re here because you want something from me?!”

Xavier starts crying—probably because she’s yelling—and sinks down to the floor, giving up on standing. His crying is sort of a high-pitched wail-scream that makes my ears feel like they’re going to bleed.

I swallow and take a step away from them. “Need, not want. And who told you I was all right?”

“Mary. Wilson,” she adds, as if I didn’t know she meant Kat’s mom. “I was worried sick, no thanks to you.”

“It couldn’t have bothered you that much. I mean, it’s not like you don’t have a backup son.” One who’s growing freakishly fast and should be fully replacing me in no time.

“
Damien Locke
, I am still your mother, and don’t you come into my house and talk to me like that! Do you think it was easy for me to see you on TV and not know what happened to you? You could have been hurt—you could have been
dead—
and you didn’t even think to tell me.”

“I was kind of busy.” What with my whole life falling apart and everything. Making sure my estranged mother’s feelings weren’t hurt wasn’t exactly my top priority. “And it’s not like you called me, either. If you were so desperate to know what was going on with me, you could have picked up the phone.”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t. I wanted to, but what if you didn’t answer? I wouldn’t have known if it was because you were hurt—or worse
—
or if you just didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I would have answered,” I mutter, not looking at her and not knowing if it’s true.

“I called Mary, but she didn’t know anything about you either, only that Kat was hurt and in the hospital. And then she called me Sunday afternoon and said Tom had talked to you and that you were all right. But I didn’t hear a word from you. You talked to Kat’s parents, but obviously you couldn’t be bothered to let your own mother know you were still alive.”

Uh, yeah, maybe because they don’t hate me. Except for her dad, I mean. “Well, I
am
alive, and I’m here, and— Hey!” I spot something familiar in Xavier’s crib and march over to it. It’s my old teddy bear, Damien II, my favorite toy when I was growing up. He’s gotten pretty shabby and kind of awful-looking over the years, and one ear is worn through, making him really stand out among all the new baby things. I snatch him out of the crib. “This is
mine
. When I came to get my stuff before, you told me you didn’t know where he was!”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re sixteen. You’re too old to have stuffed animals.”

“So you lied to me? And now you’re giving my stuff to
him
?” I can’t believe her.

“It reminded me of you, and you didn’t need it,” she says calmly. “And now Xavier likes it.”

Apparently. It looks like one of the ears has been slobbered on recently.

I wish I hadn’t come here. I wish I wasn’t standing in my old room, now turned into my replacement’s nursery, clutching a broken gadget and an old stuffed bear. And I really,
really
want to turn around and walk away, but I can’t leave without getting her help first. “I’m taking him,” I say, holding the teddy bear to my chest and gesturing with the personality enhancer, as if he’s my hostage.

“Fine,” Mom says. “If you want to be selfish and deprive your brother of his favorite toy.”

“
His
favorite toy?! He’s not even one month old! He’ll get over it. And you shouldn’t have given it to him.”

Xavier, still crying and making these annoying little wail-gasps, watches me holding the bear and stretches his arms out for it. Fat chance, kid. The little usurper has everything I ever wanted—he doesn’t get to have this, too.

Mom sucks in a deep breath, like she’s trying to stay calm about me actually wanting to keep something from my childhood. “You said you came here because you need my help.”

“I need you to fix something.” I hold up Sarah’s gadget again. “It’s important. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. So, just do this one thing for me, and then I’ll get out of here and you never have to see me again.”

“Damien, what did you
do
to this thing?” Mom asks, frowning in horror at the personality enhancer, which she’s got opened up on her lab table in front of her.

“I didn’t say I did anything. I just said it was broken.” I set Damien II on the table, inspecting him for more signs of Xavier abusing him. I think he chewed on his nubby bear tail, and there’s a dried up, slimy-looking smear on his foot.

Mom tilts her head, giving me a look that says she knows better than that.

“Fine. I zapped it.” I hold up a hand, letting a couple of sparks flare at my fingertips. “Twice.”

She breathes out slowly through her teeth.

I drum my fingers on the edge of the table, not liking that reaction. “You can fix it, though, right?”

“Sarah made this?”

“Obviously.”

“Wasn’t she the one shooting at you?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t really her, and ... it’s a long story. Just tell me you can fix it.”

She bites her lip. “Are you really in that much of a hurry to never see me again?”

Kind of. Maybe. But I don’t like the sad way she’s looking at me, like I just kicked her favorite puppy or something. I swallow and look away. “I just need it. To fix Sarah, before ...” Before she does something else crazy. “I just need it, all right? As soon as possible.”

She turns away from the personality enhancer, looking me over and studying my face. “I saw the press conference.”

I nod and squish Damien II’s nose up into his snout, then let it pop back out again. “What does that have to do with you fixing the device or not?”

“If I’m going to fix it and never see you again, the least you can do is talk to me. Are you all right?”

“You can see that I’m fine.” Except for the bandage on my arm, which I guess she can’t see, since it’s hidden by my sleeve. But it’s not a big deal, and she doesn’t need to know about it.

“I was referring to everything that’s going on. With that—with your
father
—and your lightning power. Your grandfather wants you to call him, by the way.”

“What, and he can’t call me, either?” I haven’t spoken to either of my grandparents since before my birthday, when I got my
X
.

“He thinks someone else might answer, and he said if he gets one of those superheroes on the line, he’s going to give them a piece of his mind, whether you want him to or not, for putting you in that school in the first place. I tried to tell him he’d be calling your cell phone, not the house, but he wasn’t satisfied.”