The Trials of Renegade X (37 page)

“
Yes
.” His eyes light up. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in real life! I— Er, I mean,” he adds, trying to tone down his enthusiasm and look appropriately somber, “that was really awful. What happened at the dance. Riley told me your girlfriend’s going to be okay, though, right?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

“And he said Sarah’s not really insane.”

“Right.”

“So ... can I see it?” He holds up his hands and wriggles his fingers.

“
No
. Shouldn’t you hate me for pretty much ruining the Crimson Flash’s life?”

“I already knew you were half villain.” He shrugs. “And all that stuff he said, about knowingly endangering everyone at Heroesworth by having you go there, obviously isn’t true. He’s the
Crimson Flash
. He wouldn’t do that. Plus, it’s not like you’re dangerous or anything.”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, okay,” he says. “So maybe you’re
a little
dangerous. Not dangerous enough to beat me at
Villains vs. Heroes
, obviously. But I trust you. I’ll even prove it to you. You show me your lightning power right now, and I promise I won’t freak out.”

“Nice try, Zach. I’m not showing it to you.”

“Aw, man! Why not?”

“Because. You already saw it. And I almost killed people with it.”

“What about your flying power? Can you show me that? Or have you, like, killed too many people with it or something?”

“Yeah, hundreds. It’s terrible.”

“So, can I see it or what?”

“You’ve seen me use my lightning power, I’ve seen you go invisible. I think we’re even.”

“Your math is wrong. You’ve seen all of my powers, and I’ve only seen half of yours.”

“Why do you want to see it so badly?”

“Uh, because you’re awesome, obviously. And because we’re friends. I mean,” he adds, suddenly looking nervous, “I know you’re my brother’s friend and older than me and stuff, but I thought maybe you liked hanging out with me, too.” His face goes kind of red, like he’s worried I might tell him he’s just Riley’s annoying little brother and that he should get lost.

“You saw what I did at Homecoming, and you still think I’m awesome?”

“Are you kidding me? I think you’re awesome
because
of what you did at Homecoming.”

“Because I blew up the roof?”

“No, no. Well, yeah. But mostly because you didn’t back down. Sarah was going to
kill
you. Your girlfriend was hurt, and so was Riley, and nobody else was even trying to stop Sarah. Everybody thought you were the bad guy, but you still stood up to them. If everybody thought I was doing something wrong, and they were all yelling and pointing guns at me and threatening to use their powers on me and stuff ... I don’t know if I could do it. Stand up to them, I mean. And now everybody’s saying that you’re a criminal and that the Crimson Flash isn’t who they thought he was, but he
must
be, if you’re his son, because what you did was really heroic. And not that being a hero is easy or anything, but it must be especially hard to be one when everybody thinks you’re a villain.”

Wow. That wasn’t what I expected, and I just kind of stare at him for a minute. Then I take a deep breath and run my hand through my hair. “You really want to see my flying power?”

“Yeah.”

“Come in. And close the door. And don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Don’t tell anyone about what you showed me in your room with the door closed? Got it.”

I smirk at that, though only for a second, because even though it’s just Zach here and he thinks I’m awesome and I kind of trust him, I’m still really nervous about this.

He closes the door, and I go and stand in the middle of the room. “Okay, so, I haven’t exactly done this in a long time. And I kind of hate it. And I’m just going to lift off the ground a little bit, okay? Nothing, like, amazing or anything.”

If I can do this at all. I’m not even sure I know how.

I think about what I do when I use my lightning power—how I just sort of think about it and then it’s there. And then, as I’m thinking that, I feel a tingle of electricity along my arm. Oops. I make it go away and switch gears, thinking instead about lifting off the ground. My least favorite thing.

I imagine my feet not being on the floor and how sick I’m going to feel when I’m hovering in the air, with nothing solid beneath me. I mean, not that the attic floor is exactly my idea of a safe place to stand, but at least it’s something. I picture it crumbling out from under me, in an attempt to trick myself into feeling like this is another life or death situation. But all that does it make my hands start to shake.

I close my eyes and try a different tactic. Because thinking about possibly dying, and about how horrible I’ll feel when I finally do use my power, isn’t exactly working. So instead I imagine something even worse—I imagine actually
liking
it. Which takes a lot more imagination than, say, reliving falling from the tallest building in Golden City. But I think about wanting to rise up off the ground. About how being able to fly means, in a way, never
not
being safe, because I can’t ever fall. I imagine floating, and I have such a good imagination that it feels like I really am, which makes my stomach twist up and my insides squirm. But I ignore that and try to pretend it’s as cool as Zach probably thinks it is.

Then I bump my head on something, and Zach says, “
Whoa
,” and I open my eyes and see him below me. Because I’m touching the ceiling. Because I wasn’t imagining floating—I was really doing it.

A jolt of panic lights up my nerves. My flying power cuts out and I
drop
. One second, I didn’t even realize I’d left the ground, and the next, my blood runs cold with overwhelming terror, and the floor is rising up to meet me.

So much for not being able to fall.

I don’t land gracefully, but I do manage to land on my feet, in sort of a squatting position with one arm out behind me. Sweat prickles up and down my back, and I feel like I can’t breathe, but I grin at Zach anyway, hoping he doesn’t notice how freaked out I am, and say, “Happy now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Because I’m
never
doing that again.

I get dressed up Friday evening—dress shirt, jacket, pants, bow tie, everything—as if I was going to Homecoming with Kat.

Not that I am. I mean, only someone who was awful and didn’t care that they ruined their famous superhero father’s life would even think about going to Homecoming at Vilmore. Which can’t be me, because I’m not awful. Or, at least, I’m trying really hard not to be.

But I talked to Kat on the phone yesterday, and it was weird. Not because she said anything about the dance or about me not going—or about her going with someone else—but because she
didn’t
. And I didn’t, either, because I didn’t want her to think about how I can’t really see her right now. Or possibly ever. Not that I really believe that, because
ever
is a long time, and something’s bound to change eventually, right? I’m going to fix this. Somehow. And then ... Well, then I’ll still be the Crimson Flash’s son.

But anyway, it was obvious there was something wrong, even though neither of us said anything about it. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but it wouldn’t really have helped anything. Me being sorry doesn’t mean I can see her. It doesn’t mean me not going to the dance isn’t the first in a long line of missed events.

I think about all the days stretching out before us, of me not seeing her. Of our conversations getting weirder and weirder as we slip away from each other, and as we never say anything about it, because calling attention to it might make it too real.

I think about Gordon and all the things I’ve done to hurt him, and about how much worse it will be if I go to the dance. At Vilmore. Honoring Helen’s arch nemesis, my girlfriend’s grandfather. And how it will look to the entire city like I’m defying him, and that I’m just as villainous as everyone thinks I am. But it’s not like he’s ever going to forgive me as it is.

So maybe I’ve already lost him. I can’t lose Kat, too.

Or maybe this will be the last straw and he’ll decide to send me away. Maybe there’s some boarding school for delinquent superhero kids. Because it’s not like having superhero genes makes you perfect. There’s bound to be plenty of other screwups, and they’ve got to put them somewhere. For all I know, he’s already got something like that in mind for me. But maybe he’s hoping I can stay, just like I am, and maybe me going to the dance at Vilmore will push him over the edge.

But I can’t lose Kat. I
can’t
. And yeah, she’ll still love me, even if I don’t go. But it’ll hurt. She might not spend the night listening to emo music and crying in her room, but she’ll miss me, and me not being there—me not being able to be
seen
with her—will hurt. A lot. And she’ll know I let this get between us. That I fought to save her life, but that I didn’t fight to be with her. And I’ll hate myself for it. I kind of already do.

So I get dressed, as if I was going.

The personality enhancer—now fixed, thanks to Mom—sits on my bed. I glance over guiltily at it, because
if
I was going to sneak out tonight, it should be to use it on Sarah. Not to go to the dance.

But Sarah can wait one more day. This can’t.

I finish getting dressed and creep downstairs. As if I’m going to leave.

Which I’m not. Because, like I said, only someone who was awful would do that. Only a really terrible person would add one more offense to the long list of terrible things they’ve done to hurt their father. And their family. And pretty much anyone ever associated with them.

Gordon’s not home yet, even though it’s a little after five. Amelia’s in her room, talking on the phone. I don’t know where Helen and Jess are, though I can smell dinner cooking, so Helen must be home. But they’re not in the living room, and my only witness is Alex, who’s sitting on the floor, watching TV. He looks up at me when I come in, his eyes wide, then hurries to face the TV again, like
he’s
the one worried I might see him. I wonder if he has any idea that I’m not supposed to leave the house, that I’m even doing something wrong.

I put my hand on the doorknob. Because I love Kat and I don’t want her going to the dance with that douchebag, but more than that, I can’t just not fight for her. I can’t just stay home and never see her again.

But if I go ...

I hesitate, letting go of the knob. I step away from the door. Gordon doesn’t deserve me doing this to him. He thinks I’m enough of a lost cause already, and if I go, then he’ll
know
I am.

My phone rings. I hurry to silence it and see that it’s Riley. He knows I was picking up the personality enhancer today—he probably wants to figure out when we’re going to use it on Sarah. I can’t exactly talk right now, so I ignore the call and set my phone to silent mode.

I walk away from the door. Then I change my mind and march back over to it. Then away again, then back. And I know I have to do this, I
have
to go, or else—

“
Damien
,” Helen’s voice says behind me, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Damn it.

I pause in mid-reach, pulling my hand away from the doorknob and turning to face her. I should have just left. If I hadn’t waffled, if I’d stopped kidding myself about maybe staying home and being good, I’d be out the door already.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” I lie. Or maybe it’s not a lie. Maybe I really wasn’t.

She glares at me. “You know you’re not allowed to leave the house.”

“I just said I wasn’t!”

Alex turns his head, risking a glance at us, looking nervous.

“And you expect me to believe that?” She takes in how I’m dressed and shakes her head. “After everything your father has done for you, you couldn’t even ... Were you going to see Kat?”

I look away.

“Of course you were. Did you even think about the fact that someone would see you? That pictures of the two of you would wind up online? Do you know what that would look like?! He doesn’t need this! He—”

“So don’t tell him!” I squeeze my eyes shut, my face heating up with guilt. Does she really think I don’t care? “
Please
. Just ... Look, I didn’t go anywhere! I was thinking about it, but I didn’t, so—”

“Unbelievable!”

She’s going to tell him. I didn’t even go, and now he’s going to know just how much he should hate me. My heart pounds, and I wish I hadn’t gotten dressed up, that I’d stayed in my room. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why, after everything I’ve done, I can’t stop ruining his life.

“You think because I caught you
before
you could leave means you didn’t do anything wrong? That he doesn’t need to know his son was carelessly running off to go on a date with a supervillain? Like you don’t even care what you’ve done or what happens to him?!”

“Of course I care!” Electricity zaps along my spine and makes my hair stand on end. But I keep the sparks down this time. I don’t want to fight with her—I just want this to be over with so I can go hide in my room again. “And it wasn’t just a date. I know what it would look like, if people saw me with her, and— You think I’d be doing this if it wasn’t important?!”