Page 47 of No Capes
“When Arielle was twelve, and I was four,” I say, “we went to the beach. The currents were strong that day, and the lifeguards warned us about riptides.
“Riptides are the fastest currents,” I add. “Faster than any swimmer. Certain conditions make them more likely, like wind and all that, but it’s hard to spot a riptide until you’re in it. Arielle loved standing up to the tallest waves and jumping through them. But once, a wave swallowed her.”
“Arielle versus a riptide,” says Kristen. “I’d pay to see that.”
“The only time in her life she didn’t fight back. Even Arielle knew not to fight a riptide. That’s the only way to escape it. As long as you don’t struggle, you’ll be okay. Stay calm, then swim parallel to the shore until you’re out.”
“Amazing.” Kristen gives me a look like,why are we talking about these death waves?
“Maybe Superpowers are that way too. Harmful if you resist them, but if you learn to use them, you can almost have your old life back—with a new twist.”
Kristen chuckles at my attempt to be self-deprecating. I sip my tea, and I realize I’ve decided: I want to try to help with what Dark Static and Golden Ace are planning. I have to at least try.
Kristen picks at the grass around her legs. “Of course Madeline Roberts has freaking Superpowers.”
I down the rest of my tea and let the energy sink into my blood. Kristen said that as if the world finally made sense. I wish it did.
~
When Kristen finally drops me off at home, my thoughts zip from Jack Wilson, to Phil, to the swim meet yesterday, when Fox had seemed to think that anxiety over anything was not worth having. I don’t agree with him, but that gets me thinking about why he’d bothered to talk to me.
My house is dark and empty—my dad must be at the library, finishing up reports or watching our old house. Seriously, why did we move if he really just wants to be there? My mind jumps from Fox to Golden Ace… why is it that now that I’m working alongside him, the guy I’ve loved for forever, my mind keeps replaying D.S.’s arms around me?
I’m still thinking about Fox, Golden Ace, and Dark Static when I step into my bedroom and flick on the light.
“Tough day?”
Dark Static sits on my carpet with his back against my bed. His long legs stretch toward me, crossed at the ankles. I should know by now that he’ll let himself in, as he has almost every night for the last few weeks.
I head for the bed and collapse on the mattress.
“What now?” I groan through a pillowcase. Dark Static being here can mean two things: he has an update on Phil’s evildoings, or he’s come to inquire aboutanotherproject. The options are not mutually exclusive.
“Seeing as your dad isn’t home yet, and you were kidnapped just this afternoon—”
“—You’re here to babysit me,” I finish. “Did you forget I have powers now too?”
“Totally forgot. I’ll be on my way then.” He makes no effort to move, though he tilts his head back to see me. A question.Do I want him to stay?
I sit up and lean against the wooden headboard. “I know another guy who lacks self-awareness almost as much as you do.”Stay.
“That sounds like boy-trouble if I ever heard it,” Dark Static prods. “Tell me about him. I’ll prove my self-awareness to you.”
That sounds like a challenge, and I’m too tired to argue. If he could shed light onto the Fox situation, that’d be great.
“His name’s Fox Levine,” I say. “He goes to my school. He’s on my swim team. Ex-best-friend.”
“What’s he like?”
I pause; Fox is hard to describe. Enigmatic. Impossible. “You have similar personalities, actually. You’re both ridiculously cocky and competitive and impossible to read. Also, he has every reason to target Mayor Bridges, just like I do.”
I sit straight up, like Dark Static hit me with one of his lightning bolts.Wait.
“You know I wouldn’t tell you,” he says, reading my expression. It’s the same response he gave when I asked if he was Aaron. “Besides, the way I act—”
“—with me isn’t how you might act without the mask. Yeah, yeah.” We’ve gone through this. I loop my arms over my legs and stare at Dark Static. I see Fox without a shirt every day, and, unfortunately have his build and stature seared into my memory. D.S., while long and lean like Fox, is broader in the waist, hips, and shoulders…
“Fine.” I give in. As much as I’d enjoyed checking him out, they’re not all that close to the same person. My mattress creaks as I slide back on it, coming to another realization: the odds that D.S. is Damian just got higher.
