Fifteen
The next day at school, Phil’s voice from the CDs continues to haunt me.
When the last bell rings in the afternoon, I can’t recall much of what happened in my classes.
Although something eventful did happen during lunch, when I opened my bag of vending machine pretzels and discovered that my salty snack was replaced by a string of dead ants.
There is absolutely no trusting any kind of food from inside this building.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Kristen hands me one of her earbuds. “They got Materio and G.A. to talk about the bomb thing.”
“Our thoughts and prayers are with the wonderful people of our city,” says Materio, “who are casualties in Dark Static’s unlawful destruction.”
“Materio, myself, and the other Supers of Capital City are doing everything we can to keep you safe,” Golden Ace adds.
“Please keep your faith in us and your elected officials to stop this madman from further violence.”
“Gross,” says Kristen. “It’s the typical trust the system rhetoric. I can’t believe Materio came out of retirement for this.”
“Weird,” I reply, “Golden Ace rarely does interviews.” We’ve had more destructive villains than Dark Static, and Golden Ace defeated them without a word.
“We rarely have Supers who set mayors’ houses on fire,” says Kristen. “Literally lighting a fire under them. What a mess.”
This is what Phil hired Dark Static to do, I realize. Phil wants to make the public hate the lightning Super.
Kristen slams her locker shut. “We’re still on for this afternoon? Après ma dètention , I mean.” She makes a face and I don’t blame her. If I had detention as often as she does, I’d do anything to escape. Of course, she could show up to school on time.
“Sorry, what are we doing?” I blink, trying to remember what she planned.
Arielle usually cancels our afternoon practice on the days after swim meets to give us a break. We still have our morning practice, though. No one would ever accuse Arielle of being too lenient.
“You’re coming to see my dress? For Hallowfest?”
“Oh, yeah. Wait, you didn’t make one for me, right?
” Every year, Kristen designs her own dress for Hallowfest, but she likes to get a second opinion on it before the debut.
I would not be surprised if she blackmailed me into being her date at the last minute.
I love Mr. and Mrs. Smithson, but they can go to desperate lengths to appease the upper echelon of Capital City’s social scene, including by making Kristen bring a date.
“I’m taking Aaron so you’re officially off the hook.”
My heart skips faster. “Swim team Aaron?” Who may or may not be Dark Static? “Since when?”
“I know, right?” She grins. “At the meet yesterday, Fox was bragging about Damian throwing a pre-Hallowfest party, and Aaron mentioned how cool it would be to attend the big shindig, so I asked him. So there, Fox.”
So there, Fox.
“Come over later. I’ll make brownies. It’ll be fun, I swear.” She blows me a kiss and runs to Mr. Tills’ classroom for her daily detainment.
“M’kay bye…” I twist the combination dial on my locker, wait for it to click, and pry open the door to find something unusual: a paper note—on white printer paper—stuffed on top of my junk pile.
As I lift it, I discover this note has not, in fact, been written in barely legible handwriting, nor was it signed by D.S. Instead it reads:
Madeline—
I’ll be at the pool after school today, and I’d like to work on strokes. Hope you’ll come.
—Aaron
Seriously? What has prompted Aaron to communicate with someone? Also, the last time we worked on strokes was totally not fun. Why does he still want to practice? Shouldn’t he be tuxedo shopping?
Why is he leaving notes in my locker? Is this Dark Static’s way of confirming that he and Aaron are the same person after all?
“Secret admirer?” Someone approaches from the nearly deserted senior hallway. I shove the note into my grody backpack and turn to find Fox.
Fox wears a soft sweater and faded jeans like he’s being paid to model them. His hair is so perfectly messed up that he either gelled it that way on purpose or hadn’t bothered to brush his hair this morning. Damian and Molly, his after-school posse, are nowhere in sight.
On reflex, I fold my arms protectively across my chest, half bracing myself for having a water balloon thrown at me, like he orchestrated a year ago, the last time he visited my locker after school. Not cool, Fox.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I say. “Aaron wants to go over his strokes with me.”
“Texting’s too normal. I get it. The third member of Lane Awesome is quite the mystery. I’m offended I didn’t score an invite.” Hints of a laugh inflect his answer. He’s not offended at all.
“Are you saying you want the extra practice?”
“Nah. Don’t need it. But y’all knock yourselves out.”
“Thanks.”
Fox starts walking down the hall, then spins on his heel, changing his mind. “Need a ride?”
What? “Um…” Was this some kind of trick?
“It’s a ride, not a marriage proposal.” His emerald eyes hold a teasing glint. “C’mon.”
“Why?” I stammer, managing to zip up my backpack and shut my locker.
“Because the buses left a minute and 20 seconds ago, and it’s a ten minute walk to the pool house.”
“Impressive sense of time,” I say.
He smirks. “If we go outside and the buses are still there, then don’t come. But if they aren’t, then this is non-negotiable.”
“Okay…” I agree. Not really sure what I’m getting into.
I follow him down the hallway and up to the front of the school in utter silence. Fox smirks the entire walk, and I wish that stupid smile would go away. In the end, he’s right: the buses left without me.
“You can sit shotgun.” He beelines towards his sporty red car.
“What if I wanted to drive?”
“Good one.” He throws his backpack into the backseat, and I climb into the passenger side. His car is very clean. Immaculate, even. Arielle would be in heaven.
Fox backs out of his parking space while putting on his seatbelt. Showoff.
“So, sneaking in an extra practice?” Fox prods. “Sounds like you’re worried about someone breaking your records, Maddy.”
“Good one,” I say.
Fox laughs, and I relax into my seat, watching him calculate the surrounding traffic.
The pool is a short distance from school, so this drive’s only a few minutes.
The pool building is technically part of the high school, but two gigantic parking lots connect them.
The pool building is also so low to the ground, compared to the skyscrapers in the rest of the neighborhood, that it can’t be seen out of any nearby windows.
That’s one of the things I love about the pool–going there is like leaving society behind.
“Well, thanks for the ride, Fox,” I say, slowly climbing out of his car. I’m not entirely sure what to say to him. “This was cool of you.”
“I’ll look out for your five-star review,” he says.
I nod another thanks and grab my bag from the backseat, heading towards the pool building.
I don’t hear him drive off until I’m almost to the door.
Fox and Aaron are both being super weird today.
But Fox hadn’t pranked me, and I hadn’t wanted to empty his sports drink over his head, so I’ll take it.
I should ask Dark Static what he knows about the Levines.
The empty sidewalk is quiet as I tug on the metal doors to the pool. There’s no wind or the sound of leaves scattering, no dogs barking or cars driving by.
I almost make it inside. I would have, if long arms hadn’t grabbed me from behind, or if a lemony cloth hadn’t pressed over my mouth, suppressing my scream and making everything go black.