The Trials of Renegade X (18 page)

“It’s better than having no one to go with.”

“No, it’s not.” She doesn’t really think that, does she?

“You don’t know. You always have someone to go with. Someone who actually
likes
you. And you’re the one who’s always saying how impossible it is for guys to like me.”

“I’m your brother. It’s called teasing.” And, okay, it might be more than teasing—it might be sort of true, but only because she acts so desperate all the time. Not because there aren’t, like, equally unpleasant boys out there who might actually go for her.

Amelia shakes her head, rubbing her nose into my pillow, which I think I might have to burn after this. “No. I already knew it was true before you came to live with us. No guys have ever liked me, not even Robert March. I know because Tiffany asked him for me at the end of last year, since I knew I wouldn’t be going to that school anymore, and he said no way. That’s what he said—
no freaking way
.”

“He’s a loser.” He really is. He played the tuba in the school band—badly, I might add—and spent all his free time playing trading-card games with his loser friends and possibly not showering. No one in his group had girlfriends, or even really talked to girls much. And I’m actually surprised he turned Amelia down so harshly. It’s not like he had any other prospects.

“I know he’s a loser, but so am I. That’s why I thought he’d say yes.”

Well, with that logic, how could she lose? “Maybe he likes boys.”

“No. I heard he kissed Melanie Hargrove behind the bleachers this summer. She’s
first chair flute
in the school band.” She says that like it makes her a woman of loose morals.

Those first-chair sluts, always stealing all the guys. “So it didn’t work out with him. That doesn’t mean—”

“Don’t try to patronize me. No boys have ever asked me out, or flirted with me, or shown any signs of being interested. I know I’m not pretty. I know I’m not funny or interesting. But I just want to go to one stupid dance. With a boy. He doesn’t have to like me.”

Yes, he does. She keeps saying that he doesn’t, but she can’t just whore herself out to the lowest bidder. And is she really going to be happy if I find her somebody and she knows it’s only a setup? That she specifically told me she wants a warm body to play the part of “Homecoming Date Number One” and that she’s expecting it to be fake?

If I do that, it’s only going to confirm her suspicions that she’s worthless. That having someone to go to a dance with is more important than having, say, any self-respect whatsoever. And if she’d stoop that low for
this
, what happens when some guy realizes how desperate she is and tries to take advantage of her? I mean, besides me killing him, of course.

Amelia notices me contemplating this and not, like, agreeing to it. She rubs her face with her hand and says, “You have to. I know it’s impossible, but if you don’t, I’ll tell Dad. About your secret. The whole school, too. And you don’t want that to happen, do you?”

No, I most certainly do not. I sigh, not liking this one bit, but not having much choice, either. “All right,” I tell her. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she says, and then wipes her face on my pillow one last time for good measure.

Chapter 13

MR. FITZ SINGLES ME out at the end of class on Friday and asks me to stay behind. The way he holds my test we took at the beginning of the period, and the way his mustache twitches like it’s signaling the mother ship to come beam it up, I know whatever he’s about to say can’t be anything good.

But I don’t care. I
really
don’t care. School will be over in another hour. And, like, eight hours after that it will be time to go to bed. And the sooner I go to bed, the sooner it becomes Saturday, the day that Kat comes home. Of course, I can’t exactly see her until that evening, when everyone leaves for the Heroes in the Park festival. Not unless I want to blow my cover, that is. But at least when I call her tomorrow afternoon, I’ll know she’s only across town, not forty-five minutes away.

Mr. Fitz shows me my test, which he graded as soon as I turned it in, marking it with red pen all over. There’s a big
F
at the top, though I apparently didn’t fail
every
answer, just almost. After all, the book does get one or two things right.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Mr. Locke, but this is not a passing grade.”

I don’t see how that’s my problem. I told him I wasn’t going to lie on the test, no matter what the book said, and he told me he was going to fail me. That’s exactly what happened, on both accounts, so I don’t understand what there is to talk about.

“I’m aware of it. I accept the consequences. Can I go now?”

He scowls at me, his bushy eyebrows coming together. “I’m not certain that you understand what those consequences are. You can’t go around making up answers and expecting to get by in life. This is an
F
. For
failure
.”

“It’s a piece of paper.” Big deal. I take out a piece of paper from my binder and write
You don’t know what you’re talking about
on it and hand it to him.

He scans it, then crumples it up in a fit of rage.

“See?” I tell him. “That piece of paper said
you
were stupid, and you didn’t take it seriously, either.”

“Fortunately for me, that piece of paper doesn’t decide my fate at this school. However, this one”—he holds up my test—“and others like it,
do
determine yours.”

I wonder if Kat has to put up with this kind of crap at Vilmore. “I said I wasn’t going to lie, and I didn’t. You can’t make me put down the wrong answers just because they’re what you want to hear. You can write
F
on my paper all you want, but you can’t actually change my mind or make me believe any of the nonsense in the textbook.”

Mr. Fitz’s hands clench, wrinkling the edges of my test. He grits his teeth. “Perhaps not, but I
can
call your parents.” He pauses, waiting for that to mean something to me.

As if I can’t handle them. I pull out my cell phone and bring up Gordon’s number, then hold it out to him. “Go for it.”

He doesn’t take the phone, like the fact that I was so willing to call my dad makes him suspect this is a losing battle. He glares at me, his whole face red with anger, and then slams my test down on my desk. “Bring this back to me on Monday,
signed
.” He motions for me to leave.

I stuff the failed test in my backpack and get out of there. People are still hurrying through the halls on their way to fifth period. Only one more class, and then I can go home. And Kat comes home tomorrow.

Kat comes home tomorrow.

Kat comes home to—

“Damien!” I’m so obsessed with getting to see Kat again that I think I hear her voice. I know I must have imagined it, but then, right as I’m thinking that, someone comes running up to me in the hall.

She throws her arms around me, and I recognize the scent of her watermelon shampoo. “
Kat?
”

She hugs me tighter, then steps back, grinning at me. “I’m on a field mission,” she says. “We had to pick a place to gather information, and I chose Heroesworth, because ...” She looks down, smiling stupidly at her shoes. “Because I hoped I might run into you. How silly is that?”

“Zero percent.” I can’t believe she’s
here
. On some sort of hands-on assignment, and not, like, sitting around making stupid posters. Heroesworth should take note.

We’re just kind of standing there, both of us grinning at each other, when some guy comes hurrying over, looking really put out. “Katie?” He has bleached-blond hair that doesn’t match his eyebrows and a really pointy nose. “You just took off.”

“Damien, this is Tristan. Tristan, this is Damien, my—”

I kiss Kat before she can finish, showing him
exactly
who I am to her. It’s a deep kiss, a two-weeks-of-not-seeing-you kiss. The slow, intimate kind that makes other people uncomfortable to watch. Sparks race up my spine and the hair on my arms stands on end. There’s a sharp zap between us when I break away. Then the bell rings, signaling I’m officially late to class.

“What was
that
?” Kat asks.

I’m not sure if she means the kiss or the zap at the end, but I pretend I didn’t notice the zap and assume it’s the first one. “I missed you.” And I wanted to put Tristan in his place, of course. But
mostly
it was because I missed her.

Tristan makes a big show of clearing his throat to get our attention. I’m pretty sure he’s the same Tristan who started the whole “Katie” thing, and now he’s here, working with her on some field assignment. Almost like he was her partner in crime, or at least like he thinks he is. He’s going to have a lot of trouble partnering up with her after I murder him.

Kat looks embarrassed, like she’d forgotten he was there. “This is my boyfriend Damien.”

“I gathered that,” he says. “What’s he doing here? You didn’t invite him, did you? Because Mrs. Thorpe didn’t say anything about—”

“I’m on a field mission, too,” I tell him. I hold out my hand to shake with him, wondering how badly I can shock him before he notices it’s not just static.

But he pretends like he doesn’t see me and turns to Kat instead, leaning in to whisper to her and touching the inside of her wrist. He makes it look like a deeply personal gesture—like they
could
be just friends, or they could be something way more—as if he’s trying to make a move on her right in front me.

And suddenly it’s all I can do
not
to electrocute him. A charge burns beneath my skin. All my hair stands on end, and I have to take a deep breath and will the electricity to stay in check. I planned to tell Kat about my new power this weekend—she’s not some superhero who’ll freak out and act like I’m a criminal—but frying the other member of her team probably isn’t the best way to break the news. Even if he hasn’t spoken two words to me and I already hate him and really, really want to.

And maybe, since he’s a supervillain, I wouldn’t even get expelled for killing someone on school property.

“We’re being timed,” he says to Kat. “We’ve lost enough points already in this competition, and we’re not supposed to get distracted. Or talk to outsiders.”

Outsiders? Who’s he calling an outsider? Just because I don’t go to their school and am not part of their mission and have no idea what’s going on.

Kat rolls her eyes at him. “It’s fine,” she says. “We’ll still pass.”

“I’m not coming in last so you can make out with your boyfriend.”

“You might want to tone down the jealousy,” I tell him. “Girls really hate that.”

He glares at me.

Kat sighs, giving in. “Fine, I guess we should go finish our mission. Damien, do you know where the main office is? The records room is connected to it, and I had blueprints, but I sort of got turned around.”

I point down the hall. “Take a left at the vending machines. If you get all the way to the cafeteria, you’ve gone too far.”

“Thanks.” She smiles and moves in to kiss me, then hesitates, like she can feel Tristan scowling at us. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says instead.

They turn to leave and haven’t even gone ten feet before Tristan finds some excuse to touch her arm. I clench my fists, letting electricity crackle in my palms, now that no one’s watching and they’re far enough away that I don’t think I’ll lose control and actually, like, murder him. Plus, the way he’s standing so freaking close to her, I’d probably hit Kat, too. And that’s
definitely
not how I want her to find out about my new ability.

Then, out of nowhere, Riley’s voice says behind me, “You’re seriously going to let them walk away like that?”

I jump, startled, and turn just in time to see him go
un
invisible. He scares the hell out of me, and before I know what’s going on, there’s a loud crackle and a burst of light as lightning arcs from my hands to the ceiling, hitting one of the emergency sprinklers. It’s over just as quickly as it started, except now the fire alarm’s blaring and water’s raining down on us.

Kat’s staring at me from the other end of the hall, her eyes wide, as if she’s never seen me before. Her mouth drops open, and she blinks a few times, like that couldn’t possibly have just happened and she must have been hallucinating, despite the water pouring down from the ceiling and the alarm going off.

I motion for her to call me. Then Tristan grabs her hand and the two of them make a run for it before anyone shows up to investigate.

I pull Riley into the nearest bathroom—which happens to be the girls’, but is also empty—just as classroom doors fling open and everyone piles out into the halls to evacuate the building. He stands in front of the sinks, soaking wet, staring at me with his arms folded and an “I knew you were trouble” look on his face.

I wonder if I can use my electricity power to erase his brain. Or at least his memory of the last five minutes. But since I’m not about to try that, I pace in front of the door and run my hands through my hair, flinging drops of water all over, while I try to figure out what to do. Obviously, I can’t murder him, even if that sounds like the most reasonable option right now, because Sarah would kill me. And because I’m not, you know, evil.