The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus) (19 page)

She tosses the excess pillows across the room before flopping down on the bed angrily.  Then she stops, her mind going straight to her foster sisters from the old home.  They'd been so nice at the start, she thinks, falling back and staring at the ceiling.  They'd offered her some of their clothes, treated her to ice cream, gave her privacy when she needed to cry, little things like that--but then they'd started demanding things from her.  Any money she got, any friends she made, anything she might even consider hers was soon theirs.  And when she finally stood up to them, they'd ganged up on her.

She was only just coming into her powers at the time.  She had gone to bed beaten, hurting, but her natural healing powers rid her of any telltale marks long before she could tell the parents.  She fought back the second time, but they were older, they had their super strength, and more importantly, there were two of them.  It happened again... and again... until she was desperate enough to get away that she forced her doppelganger to be perfect.  The doppelganger took her abuse, took her pain, and Emily?  Emily slipped out the back door with a bag of clothes and twenty bucks stolen from the foster dad.  She hadn't looked back.  Even starving on a street corner or freezing in an alley, she hadn't looked back.

Then Mastermental showed up as she was picking through the trash, told her that she was no longer a ward of the Southern Branch, and brought her here.  A new school, a new family, and all the old worries left from her old home.  She rolls over, curling into a tiny ball under the blankets and sniffling pathetically.  She just hopes that Trent had been as serious as he looked when he promised to keep her safe.

No, she thinks, she can't expect anything out of him.  That will only get her hurt more when he betrays her.

But a tiny little voice in the back of her mind is whispering, "Wouldn't they just hate me if they ever saw him?"  For the first time she falls asleep with a little grin on her lips, dreaming of how jealous the two would be. 

***

Morning comes.  I stare blankly at the alarm clock that's screaming at me, make a fist, and crush it before yawning.

"Trent!  Did you kill another alarm clock?" Mom calls from the kitchen.

"It started it," I say, rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom.  There's something I'm forgetting... I'm not sure what, I realize as I get take a quick shower and tug on a pair of shorts.  I'll deal with the shirt later, I decide as my stomach grumbles.  I'm starving.

Mom's at the stove when I get to the kitchen, cooking.  She looks at me, waving her spatula.  "Put a shirt on!  We've got a guest!" she tells me.

"But I'm hungry," I say, scratching my stomach.

"Trent," she warns.

"Fine," I mutter, turning and heading back down to my basement to dig up a shirt.  The only one I can find, though, is the Firefly shirt that Liz gave me for my birthday.  Actually I've gotten a Firefly shirt for my birthday every year since I was born, thanks to her.  Egotistical aunt.  When I get back upstairs, Emily's sitting at the table.

That's what I forgot, huh?  I shoot my mom a look of gratitude and head to the nearest chair at the table, which just happens to be straight across from Emily.  "Morning," I say, just to see how she reacts.

She gives me a dirty look.

"When people say 'morning' you're supposed to say the same," I say, leaning on the table.

"Trent, behave yourself," Mom says.

"Yes, Mom," I say, leaning back in my chair.  I catch a glance of a strange expression on Emily's face, that same hint of fear from the night before.  It's gone too quick for me to read properly, but it has me frowning.

"Emily, honey, do you like bacon and eggs?" Mom asks.

"Yeah," she says quietly, looking at the table.

"Is this you or is it the doppelganger?" I ask almost silently.  She looks at me.

"Why should I tell you?" she whispers just as silently.  A plate is placed in front of me and I look up at my Mom.

"Behave yourself," she tells me.  "Just because we've got a cute girl in the house doesn't mean you can tease her, got it?"  Then she's back to the stove, getting another plate ready.

"I'm not teasing!" I protest.  "She's got this trick--"  Emily kicks me in the shin.  Then, when I just look at her, she kicks me again.  "That doesn't work," I tell her when it seems she's going to scoot closer to the table to try for a third time.  "You're just going to hurt your toes."

"Shut it!" she hisses.

"You know Frank's going to tell them," I point out.  "And it's not going to change anything if they know--so why not tell them?"  I start eating rather than waiting for a reply, and finish off my plate full of food quickly.  "Mom I'm going to get going," I say.

"Bye, honey," Mom says.

Soon, I tell myself as I tighten my shoestrings, I'll have a bike or a car to take to school--except sooner than that I'll probably be going to Cape High and no one will care.  Oh well, I think as I stand, for now, running it is.

***

"So," Jeanie says as she drops down in the chair her son's just left.  "Did you leave any broken hearts behind you?"

Emily chokes, staring at the woman in shock.  "Wh--what?"

"Oh, sweetie, you're adorable!  I'm sure plenty of boys have broken their hearts on you.  Trent doesn't have a girlfriend, you know," she says conspiratorially.  "Or there's Sunny!  Sunny's a wonderful boy--he's Trent's best friend.  In fact, he's the main reason Trent's so much happier now."

"Um... Mastermental said he was frustrated by being a super?" Emily offers, digging for more information.  Why?  She was planning on leaving soon, right?  But so far the worst thing that has happened was Trent calling her a "little sister."  "He didn't look very frustrated," she says.

"Oh..." Jeanie says, frowning slightly.  "For a while there, Trent was the only super his age around.  He wanted to play football, but Trent is a tank category super--it's inevitable, since both his father and I are the same.  He can't play football with norms.  He could all too easily hurt them--or be found out, you know?  I feel a bit guilty,” she admits.  “When I was in high school I was a cheerleader.  No one notices that a cheerleader is hard to knock down.”

“Um... this is weird, but... are you and his dad like, second cousins or something?” Emily asks.  “I mean you’re both blond and--“

Jeanie starts laughing.  “Oh honey, no!” she says.  “Of course not!  Ken is from the Liberty line--he’s the great, great, more greats, grandson of Liberty Bell.  Liberty Bell was one of the forefathers of the first Justice Militia, which happened a very long time before the Hall.  My family comes from Sweden.”

“A Swedish hero,” Emily says blankly.

“Well they didn’t stay there for long,” Jeanie replies.  “Not much to do, after all.”

Emily looks away, feeling her shoulders shake with her suppressed laughter at the image of a super just sitting around, bored, but when she hears Ken laugh all the way from his room, she gives in, giggling.  Jeanie smiles into her coffee cup without a word.  It’s only when Emily is merely grinning that she goes on.  “But Trent, well, he became frustrated and introverted as time went by.  It’s very difficult going to school these days,” she says quietly.  “Especially when there’s no one there you can talk about your life with.”

“Is Sunny still going to school with him?” Emily asks.

“No, I’m afraid he isn’t.  Right now Trent’s the only super at that school--but next week when Cape High opens, we’re transferring him over.  He’s bearing with it very well.  Of course more often than not he’s over at Sunny’s as soon as school is over.”

Emily nods, looking at her plate.  She is starting to feel curious about this Sunny kid, honestly.  She glances up as Trent’s father comes into the room, wearing a T-shirt with the word “Technico” in a cheesy style print across the front.

“You seriously found one?” Jeanie says in surprise.

“I had to get it online,” Ken says.  “But I found it!”

"Technico is Sunny's father, Nico," Jeanie explains to Emily when she looks blank, "He used to be a super villain.  He got out of the Cape Cells recently!"

"But--aren't you a hero?" Emily asks Ken.  "Should you really be wearing a super villain's shirt?"  She watches as Ken heads for the stove to make a plate with the rest of the food.

"Just because he used to be a super villain doesn't make him one now," Ken says.  "Jeanie, I'm going to work on the school for a few hours--"

"Oh, I was planning on doing the rounds today," Jeanie says.  "I know Ms. Hilson starts talking about running away from the home about this time, she's ninety years old, I'm amazed she can even find the front door of the place."

"I can meet you about noon?  We'll head to St. Peter's and check on Ernest after lunch," Ken says.

"And Phil.  He's back in for his knees," Jeanie says. 

"Um... what, exactly, are you talking about?" Emily asks, looking back and forth as they spoke.

"Oh, sweetie, Mastermental didn't tell you?" Jeanie asks.  "Ken's a preacher for a local church."

"Yeah... but isn't it just a cover?  You know, for being a hero?" Emily asks.  "Like being a newsreporter just to know what needs fixed--"

Ken drops down next to her, a huge plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.  "Not at all," he says as he starts to eat.  "The hero-ing is more of a side job, actually, preaching is my true calling."

"But--" Emily starts out, trying to picture this man wearing a suit and pounding on a pulpit.  It just doesn't add up.  He looks and acts nothing like the preachers she's seen on television--she'd seen him do nothing but be goofy ever since she met him!

"Well... I'll put it this way," Ken says, looking at her with a grin.  "My job is saving people, right?  Well when I do it, it's for a moment, when God does it?  Lasts for eternity.  And I'm man enough to admit when someone can do my job better than I can.  Hey, you want to work as a grunt doing construction work or do you want to go with Jeanie to the old folk's home?"

"I can't just stay here?" Emily asks.

"Oh, but the ladies are so much fun, sweetie!  You'll enjoy it--they've got so many stories," Jeanie says, standing.  "And you're much less likely to break a nail," she adds.

There's no way to get out of it, Emily realizes.  She's stuck.

***

I'm stuck sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside the principal's office, wondering if I shouldn't have skipped after all.  I stretch my legs out in front of me, trying to get comfortable, only to have to shift again as a teacher almost trips over my legs.  Man this is annoying.  I'm missing my first class for this, too.  I wonder what Emily is doing--she's probably being dragged around by one of my parents.  I wonder if she'll get to meet Mrs. Moll.  Mrs. Moll is hysterical.  She was once the moll of a gangster, and when he died, leaving her with two kids and no wedding ring, she went out, bought herself a ring and changed her last name officially.

Okay, I know you figure we only hang out with supers--and to a point you're right, but church members are... I dunno, family in a way.  Dad does all sorts of things for them, and Mom helps.  I grew up following them around as a kid, checking up on this guy, seeing how this lady is doing.  A lot of their time is spent in hospitals and nursing homes.  That's why, right now, I'll almost swear that Emily's being dragged off to meet Mrs. Moll, or possibly see Ernest Grover.

"Mr. Styles?"

No, Mr. Styles isn't one of the--wait, that was Ms. Fell, wasn't it?  I glance up at the tiny woman.  "Yeah?" I say.

"The principal will see you now," she says, motioning to the office door I'm supposed to go through.  I get up, shoving my hands deep into my pockets and heading through the open door. 

"Mr. Styles, good to see you," Principal Matkins says, putting a folder down on his desk and looking up at me.  He's nothing much to look at, short guy, starting to go bald, but I guess it doesn't matter, right?  "Please, take a seat."

I head for the chair in front of his desk, sitting down and waiting.  Have they already put my transfer papers in?  They should have, I think.  I know the Hall was working on them--

There's someone else in the room.  I jerk, turning almost too quickly and find myself staring blankly at a tall woman in a pencil thin skirt and heels so high she was probably my dad's height.

"I see you've noticed Ms. Born," Matkins says.  "Don't mind her, she's merely here to observe."  He picks up another file from the one he'd been looking at, opening it.  "Mr. Styles, I've been informed that you were friends with the Rosenthorn twins?"

I'm not supposed to lie, but I really don't think this is a good thing to talk about.  "I know them," I say blandly.  "They used to go to school here."  Both truths.

"Have you heard from them lately?" Matkins ask.

How lately is "lately"?  Like today?  Today counts as lately, right?  "Not really."  Haven't heard a thing--I doubt Sunny's anywhere near a computer or a phone at the moment to send me a text.

"It's just, I've been asking around and the school that they're transferring into--I don't know anyone that's ever heard of it," Matkins says.