Page 45 of No Capes
He nods.
“Using shadows,” I say.
He nods again.
“Wow.”
He shrugs, his shadows growing shorter, as if being sheathed, and a faint crackle of electricity takes their place.
“Took a bit to get the hang of,” he says, “but hopefully that wasn’t too bumpy. I’ve never portaled with someone before—”
“You’ve never portaled with someone before.”
“No, but I was pretty sure we wouldn’t die—”
“You werepretty sure.Well, that’s a relief.”
“You wanna walk next time, be my guest.” He wears his amusement like Kristen wears anything she creates, proudly and with zero apologies.
Oh no.
I was supposed to meet Kristen after swim to see her Hallowfest dress.
I pull my phone out of my leggings, seeing 19 new text messages and 11 missed calls, all from Kristen.
Her last one:Mads, I hope you have a good excuse for this. I’m worried. Please call!
Do I ever. When I look up, I’m surprised to see D.S. still waiting, dimly lit against the sunset. He hasn’t vanished while I was in the middle of a thought, like he usually does.
“Thanks,” I say.
“My pleasure to do that specialness for you.” He scratches his jaw, a sliver of his mask coming up. That, and something about the way he stands there, is so familiar to me, I can’t stand it.
“Youaremy age,” I squint at him. A startling sensation rocks through me, like I’m so close to solving a puzzle, just the pieces are all backwards.
“You thought I was older? A twenty-something looking for revenge?”
He nailed it.
“That’s what I was going for,” he says. “I’m glad I convinced someone.”
I shake my head, not to disagree, but to clear the déjà vu… I can figure him out, but how could I think straight when Mr. Secrets himself is only inches away? While he may be using his powers for good, in the end, the guy is a mastermind at playing people.
“I know that I know you,” I say, stepping toward him, as if closing the distance will give me the answer. “Just tell me who you are. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Can’t do that, sweetheart. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Can you at least give me a hint?”
Dark Static leans toward my ear, his cool breath brushing my cheek. “Not. A. Chance.”
He moves away, and then, infuriatingly, he’s gone. Only the tingle of his words against my cheek, the tendrils of his scent, and the ghosts of being comforted remain.
~
Kristen watches me with her hands laced around a paper to-go cup of tea. Earl Grey. She’s brought one for me too, but it sits in the weeds, untouched. I told her what happened, and she volunteered to drive me wherever I wanted.
She sighs, dragging out her exhale. “I meant, I’d drive you to the hospital.”
