The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus) (9 page)

"We aren't dating," I mutter, turning bright red and staring at my food.  This isn't exactly how I pictured his reaction.  "We're just friends."

"He found us," Sunny says, still eating.

"Well, personally I don't think I mind," Technico says thoughtfully.  "But the Hall would have a heart attack.  What with Maximum being a super villain and you my kid.  Any kids you had would be mega super villains--more than they want to deal with--"

"We aren't going to have kids!" I yelp, my face so red that I can feel it burning.

"Make sure you don't," he says.  "You're definitely not old enough."

"And I'm not going to be a super villain!" I add, staring at him and daring him to argue with that statement.  Who knew a girl could feel pressured to go bad so much?

Technico looks at me then looks at Sunny.  "What about you?" he asks.  "Want to follow in your old man's footsteps?"

"Nope.  What would I do, call myself Poison Oak?" Sunny says, snorting.  "Wear green tights and attack people with poisonous flowers or something?  No thanks."

I... am definitely picturing it now.  Yeah.  You are too, right?  I'm pretty sure Technico is, because his mouth just dropped open--now he's closed it and is looking away.  Shoulders shaking--yeah, he's laughing.  That just ruined the dramatic fight tension completely, and all Sunny is doing is finishing off his pancakes like he didn't say a word.

"Okay, you guys can be heroes if you want," Technico says, his voice muffled because he's looking away from us.

"You just had to mention tights, didn't you?" I say to Sunny.

"What?  It's a really lame idea--they should always come with tights."

Have I mentioned that Sunny's brain filter doesn't kick in until around eight thirty to nine?

"He's got a very good point," Technico agrees.  "I've seen a million lame ideas--they usually do come with tights.  And capes.  Capes are retarded, especially if you fly."

"Super villains wear capes too," I have to point out.

"The stupid ones.  They tend to get caught in things.  Okay, I'll let you call your boyfriend," he says, much to my shock.  "But we're getting you out of public schooling as soon as we can."

"I... can't," I admit.  "We don't have his phone number."

Technico scowls slightly, not happy with that at all, apparently.  "Fine," he says.  "I don't like it... but you can go to school--just for today."

"What's the big deal about going to school, anyway?" Sunny asks, drinking his glass of orange juice.  "We've been going for years--all our lives, really."

There's a strange look on Technico's face, one that makes me wonder what he's thinking.  Then he gives us a crooked grin.  "The education isn't good enough," he says.  "Not for future super villains!"

"I just told you--"

"If you're going to school you should get dressed," he says, standing and taking the plates.  "Go on, Sunny, you smell like bad breath all the way across the table."  The conversation is over.  You can tell by the way he's got his back to us and is whistling as he washes the dishes.

Why do I feel that the subject isn't dead?

***

He doesn't like it.  Sure, they've been on their own for two years--other than a foster family, but they’re still brand new to their powers.  Nico scowls as he pulls the firebird to a stop in front of the school, looking at his kids.  This time Zoe has called shotgun.  He looks at his daughter, seeing her mother in her bright green eyes so clearly that he almost has to shake his head.  "Alright," he says.  "I'll be here at three exactly--if you're not out, I'm coming in, got it?"

"We'll be fine," Zoe says, rolling her eyes.  "It's just school."  She grabs her backpack and fights to get the door opened.  "I really don't get you," she adds as she climbs out of the car.  She's got an attitude problem the size of a small continent--and Nico's pretty sure where she got it from.  It isn't her mother.

"At least he didn't make us go down the elevator," Sunny says as he crawls out over the back of her seat.

"Call me if anything happens," Nico says.  "Actually, screw that, just shout."

"You're going to be doing construction--do you really think you'll hear that?" Zoe asks.

"I'll hear," he says.  She's annoying, but it's because she asks so many questions.  Hearing her ask things he's already asked himself, well, a part of him can't help but be amused.  He doesn't need a blood test.  Even if her powers weren't obviously his, her thought process would be.  He bets she would hate to hear that.

Thing is, though, he's had a lot more practice thinking that way.  His kid... his kids, actually.  There are two of them.  They are more vulnerable right now than they ever will be for the rest of their lives.

If he were a true villain he would have finished them off already, Nico admits silently.  Or brainwashed them into doing his dirty work, maybe.  For a full grown cape they're like cubs--sure they've got claws and teeth but they're tiny and don't do that much damage.  It doesn't change the fact that they'll grow into big, dangerous predators--regardless of Zoe's insistence on being good.  The ones that would kill her now aren't the type to sit down and check her stance on good versus evil.

Yes.  There are a handful of capes out there that would find out he has kids, assume they will be evil as adults, and finish them off.  There are others that would kidnap her, or both, using them as leverage to get him to do what they wanted.  In fact, Mastermental's idea for a school is a dangerous undertaking for that very reason.  Putting all the capes' kids in one convenient basket is just asking for trouble--

Nico scowls, realizing that he's been sitting in front of the school for the past three minutes.  There's someone standing at his window.  He leans forward, cranking the old fashioned window crank and looking at the woman standing there.

"Excuse me, sir, but your car has no license," she says.

"Oh, right, sorry--I keep forgetting to put up that temporary thing," Nico says, cursing his idiocy.  He should have left as soon as he dropped them off.

"And we couldn't help but notice you were dropping off students--we like to keep an eye on who comes and goes to the school, considering recent problems in school security around the world--if you could fill out some paperwork for us--"

Nico bites back a sigh and reaches down, grabbing his massive pile of paperwork.  "Give me a second, okay?" he says as he starts flipping through his paperwork.  First he pulls out a temporary car license, slipping it into the front window, then he drags out his fake papers.  It's astonishing just how thorough the Hall really is, he has to admit as he climbs out of the car.  The woman looks even shorter when he's standing, he notices idly.

"How convenient," she says, a look of confusion quickly hidden.  "Having all those papers on hand, that is."

"Yeah--well I was just discharged," he says a bit dryly.  "Where do I need to go?"

"Follow me, please.  The ah, children you dropped off--"

"Zoe and Sunny," he provides.

"They're yours?"  She looks up at him, as if only now looking at his face.  "Or your niece and nephew, perhaps?"

"They're mine."  He's never thought he'd say something like that in his life.  That thought is forgotten quickly enough as he realizes that he's walking into a den of teenagers, and most of them are turning to stare at him.  It's really tempting to do something seriously embarrassing to his kids, like wave, he thinks evilly as he catches sight of them.  He doesn't.  He gets the feeling Zoe would use it as an excuse to shove her way into the--

"Um, sorry, but," Zoe calls, heading for them.  "Ms. Fell, that's our father--he's not someone suspicious--well, he is, sortta, I mean--"

"Thanks, Zoe," Nico drawls, even as she grabs his forearm.

"We can vouch for him, I mean," she says, looking over her shoulder at Sunny.  "Get over here already!" she hisses.  His son--his only son--is acting like he doesn't know either of them, Nico notices, at least he is until Zoe yells at him.  Then the boy saunters over, still looking half asleep.

"It's not like he's a super villain or something," Sunny drawls.

Just for that, Nico thinks, he's making the boy do the elevator twice after school.

Okay, why is he still here?  What is he thinking??  Was he just sitting out in the parking lot checking out teenage girls or something?  I wouldn't put it past him to be some pervert that likes young girls!  But seriously, how do you get dragged to the principal's office on the very first day?

Well... other than by being a student?

"What were you thinking?" I whisper as quietly as I can.  We're sitting on the old plastic chairs in the waiting area, with Technico between me and Sunny.  They're uncomfortable.

"She noticed my car doesn't have plates," he whispers back.  His lips are hardly moving, and I'm a bit surprised I can hear it, but I do.  "It's fine, Double M's got me hooked up."

"Yeah, but you're not the one who's stuck with the dad that got brought in by Fell," I hiss almost silently.

"Yeah, Fell's the Cruella DeVille of Hickson High," Sunny whispers just as silently as we do before he lets out another yawn.  "She's the queen of detentions, too.  You'll probably get one."

"An adult doesn't get detention," Technico whispers back.

"You should," I whisper.

"If you two hadn't insisted on coming to school--"

"Don't go blaming it on us!" I say a bit too loud, much to the surprise of the few teachers and the secretary in the office.  "Sorry," I mutter.  And how am I going to explain what just happened?  I don't think I'll bother--and now Technico's draping an arm over my shoulders and tugging me into his side.

"Never," he swears.  Then adds in his silent voice, "You're lousy at this, aren't you."  He's laughing--he's actually teasing me as we stand in the office, waiting to have a heart to heart with Principal Matkins--and he's a super villain!  What if someone figures it out?  What if they start asking questions--I don't want to go back to the foster home, even if staying with Technico seems insane. 

I can't exactly tug free like I want to, not if we're going to tell them he's our long lost Dad or whatever, so I'm stuck leaning into his side as if I actually like him.  He's warm.  He's not as hard as he looks like he should be, either.  And just like when Max held me, I can hear his heartbeat.  Technico's heartbeat is steady, slow, as if he's taking a stroll through the park or reading a book.  Unconsciously I find myself listening to the steady lub-dub, lub-dub.

"Mister Rosenthorn?" Ms. Fell asks.

"It's Walters," Technico says.  "I'm afraid we never got around to marriage before I was sent for duty."

"I see," she says.  "Well Principal Matkins will speak to you now."

Technico stands, hauling me up with him, then turns to Sunny, who's fallen asleep somewhere along the line.  "Sunny," he says, snapping his fingers.  Sunny jerks awake.  "C'mon, kid, we have to talk to the principal."

"Oh, right."

"Tell me, does he fail his first hour class a lot?" he asks me.

"We try and get him study hall," I say.

"Smart."

Is it just me or did Ms. Fell just check out Technico's butt as we walked past?  Ewwww.  I step into the principal's office first, followed by Technico and Sunny.  The man behind the desk is short, balding, and has those little round glasses that really should have never been in fashion in the first place.  He's looking at paperwork, but puts it down as he notices we're there.

"Hello," he says as he stands and holds out a hand.  "I'm Mark Matkins, the principal," he says to Technico.  He looks tiny compared to our dad--I mean, to Technico.  He's probably only an inch or two taller than me.  His hand is practically eclipsed by Technico's.

"Nico Walters," Technico says.  "A pleasure to meet you."  For a moment time seems to stop.  The look on Principal Matkin's face is like he's just seen something shocking--something so unexpected that he might faint.  I can't help but wonder--

"Tech--" Matkins starts out.  He shakes his head quickly.  "No, of course not.  I'm sorry, you remind me of my college years--um, please, take a seat," he says, sitting down himself.

"College years?" Nico asks.

"Don't--" I hiss silently.

"Oh, it's no matter," Matkins says, shaking his head.  "I'm a bit surprised, actually, I was informed that the Rosenthorn twins lived with the Brom family--"

"I was recently discharged from the marines," Technico says, pulling out a piece of paper.  "A... friend of mine helped me get my kids back.  I'm afraid, though, that we'll be pulling them out of this school soon--private school, you know how it is."

"You find our school lacking, somehow?" Principal Matkins asks, barely glancing over the paperwork before handing it back.

"Well, these are my kids," Technico says.  "They're extremely special--to me, that is."

Sunny's leaning against the back of Technico's chair, fighting another yawn.  I can't help but shift from one foot to the other, hoping that this is over soon.  Matkins worries me.  That little slip of his makes me wonder if somehow he remembers Technico from the past.  If he does--won't he go to the authorities?  Would you really hand over two kids to a super villain if you knew they were one?

We'd get stuck back in the home, and who knows what would happen to Technico?  Possibly tossed back into the Cape Cells.  Then we'd be watched like hawks afterwards.  For the rest of our lives!  How would we be trained?  Maybe the Hall would take us in--

"Zoe," Technico says, sounding a bit impatient.  I realize he's been calling my name a few times already.  "There you are," he says.  "Principal Matkins says you can go back to your classes."

"Um, yeah, thanks," I say, looking at Matkins again.  Does he know?  I can't tell, he's back looking at papers.  Technico stands, dropping a hand on my shoulder and gently pushing me to the door. 

"He knows?" I whisper silently.

"Possibly," Technico whispers back.  "You picked up on it, too, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry about it.  We'll have Double M brainwash him if he becomes a problem."

"Wh--you can't do that!" I hiss.

"No, I can't, that's why I said we'd ask Double M," he whispers in a very logical way.  He grins at me, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.  "That is seriously awesome," he says, not even bothering to whisper.  "Why don't you wear your hair up more often?"

I give him a dirty look.  "Why do you think?" I mutter.

"Look, kid," he says, looking me straight in the eyes.  "You will never fit in here."

"Mr. Walters!" Ms. Fell says, sounding downright shocked.  "You do not tell a fifteen year old girl that she won't fit in with her peers!"

Sunny looks at her, finally waking up.  "Ms. Fell?" he says.

"Y--Yes Sunny?" she asks.

"He's right.  We won't."

"Hey!" Max calls from the other end of the hall.  "Zoe!  Where the heck have you been?  Class is already started!"  Then he stops, staring at Technico.

"Nice to meet you, Max," Technico says quietly.

"You as well, sir," Max says, his tone equally quiet.

Technico looks at Ms. Fell.  "Ma'am, there's some times in life that fitting in isn't a good thing.  And the things that stick out the most are often the most amazing," he says, shoving back my hair on the other side of my face.  I know that my white is showing.  I feel exposed.  "Don't try forcing my kids into a cookie cutter pattern."

"Dad!" I snap--only to flush as I realize what I just called him.  I've never used that word for personal reasons in my life.  "You can go.  You've got work, right?"

"You're right, you're right.  Be good, guys--or don't get caught," he says, ruffling Sunny's hair as he heads out the door.

"Zoe--" Ms. Fell starts out, and I can tell she's not exactly certain how to react to what just happened.  It's the first time I've seen her so confused.

"Ms. Fell... don't worry about it," Sunny says.  "We don't."  He drops a hand on my shoulder.  "Zoe needs to get to class and I--" he yawns, "need to get to sleep."  He heads down the hall before she could reply to that, and because she's distracted I head off as well, to get pulled into the room by Max. 

"If we can start the class again," the teacher says irritably.

"Yeah, we can now," Max says and I realize he held up the entire class just because of me.  I can't help but roll my eyes.  "We're going to talk after this," he whispers as he sits down behind me.

"Yeah, yeah," I whisper back.  "Later."

"About what?" Trent asks in a whisper.

"Later!"

***

Okay, you and I both know that having white hair as a teenager is embarrassing--we're not talking comic books here, we're talking real life.  If you have white hair when you're a freshman in high school, you are absolutely going to get made fun of, or even bullied.  Sunny was, the first few weeks of school, at least.  Now it's sort of gotten boring because he just ignores them.  But me--

Well, I feel like its going to start at any moment.  Sooner or later someone's going to start calling me grandma or skunk girl or whatever, but--but--I can't help but stare at the little hand mirror I've always had but never used.  I haven't pulled my hair forward.  So far the only thing that's happened is Max following me around between classes.

"He's right about it being awesome," Max says as he drops down next to me.  He's got a bagged lunch, but when he opens it he pulls out what's obviously a cheeseburger from a fast food joint.

"Did you skip out and buy lunch at McDonalds?" I ask him.

"Nope.  Burger King," he says, taking a big bite of his burger.  "Want some fries?"

"Yes."  Then I steal the bag, digging out the large thing of fries and helping myself.  "I forgot that I've got to make my own lunches now."

"Seriously?  Want some cash?" Trent asks, sitting down at the table with a lunch tray.  "You can buy something."

"Are you trying to hit on my girlfriend?" Max asks.

"I'm not your girlfriend," I say around a mouthful of his fries.

"She's not your girlfriend," Trent agrees.

"Did you get any ketchup?" I ask, digging in the bag.  Sunny drops down in his own spot, looking as empty handed as I am.  More empty handed, actually, since I've got Max's fries--and a twenty, I realize as Max places the bill in my hand.

"Or you can make a quick food run," he says as I take it.  "Which I seriously suggest."

"C'mon, Sunny, lets go get lunch," I say, standing.  "We'll pay you back, Max."

"Don't bother," Max says, looking rather smug as he takes his fries back.

"She's still not your girlfriend," I hear Trent say as Sunny and I head for the line.

"Yet.  She's not my girlfriend yet," Max says, not even bothering to lower his voice.  "But she has some explaining to do," he adds, looking straight at me.

"Later," I say, waving a hand.

"What all should we tell them, anyway?" Sunny asks.

"The truth?" I say.  "They'll figure it out sooner or later."

"I'm not sure I've figured it out yet," Sunny mutters.  "They're listening, aren't they?"

"Pretty sure," I say as we get to the trays and start making out plates.  "Remind me to make lunch tonight or something," I add as I watch the lady slop strange things onto my tray.

"Definitely."  The lady gives me a dirty look, but I ignore it, going to pay for our meals. We head back to our table, dropping down in our spots, and get stared at by two sets of eyes.

"Okay," I say.  "The Ha--the big bosses said that taking us in was part of his parole," I say almost silently.  "So he comes and picks us up last night, then tosses us down an elevator shaft and declares that he might suck as a dad but he's a decent trainer.  So... we're living with him in an apartment right next to Death Canyon.  We'll probably die of radiation poisoning soon."

"Not likely," Max says.  "Dad said that that used to be your old man's stomping grounds."

"Death Canyon?"

"It's the reason he was tossed in the slammer."

"But Death Canyon is huge!" Sunny says.

"Like I said, W.O.M.D. that actually worked," Max drawls quietly, with a hint of amusement.  "Technopaths."

"Wait, your Dad's a technopath?" Trent asks.

"So is Zoe," Max says.

“Can you fix my laptop?” Trent asks.  “It’s a pile of crap.”

“No, but I can blow it up?” I offer.  “But we’re not done telling you everything,” I say as I start to eat.

“We’re getting pulled out of this school,” Sunny says, eating as well.  “”As soon as some other school is finished--“

“Cape High,” Max says, startling the rest of us.  “I looked at Dad’s files last night.  They’re building a school just for kids like us.”

“What?” Trent says.  “My Dad never said anything--shouldn’t all the--all of us know about it already?”

“It’s by choice--you can keep your kid in public schools if you want,” Max says.  “Train them yourself, that sort of stuff.  Or you can put them in Cape High--it’s just...” he frowns, looking a bit confused.  “Why did he suddenly start it now?”

“What?” I ask.