Seventeen
The blackout lasts about four seconds.
Then Dark Static and I are standing, tightly wound together, in a thicket of bushes and trees.
Wait. I recognize this tree. It’s the tree I stare at when I swing…
“You can let go now,” he says, close enough for his chin to rest on my dust-covered hair. Even his heartbeat feels electric.
I step away, the shadows cascading off until I’m in the open, under the setting sun.
He brought me to the swing set in my neighborhood.
“You can portal,” I say. A rare ability for Super.
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 were pretty 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.
“You are my 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.”
I cough, which comes out like a wheeze. “Thanks.”
Capital Cliffs slope underneath us. The cliffs’ ledge is long, hundreds of meters, and we sit a thirty second walk from the guard rail, safe from the ocean below.
Crushed cans litter the limestone, settled among the leaves.
Cars speed past, and bursts of waves break against the boulders, but Kristen’s opinion cuts through it all.
“I’m not surprised you have powers,” she says. “You can hold your breath underwater for three and a half minutes.”
“Longer. I got bored with beating you and came up early.”
“Right. I am shocked at Arielle breaking the law like that. Didn’t think she had it in her. And Dark Static and Golden Ace working together? Literal awesomesauce. When do I get to meet them?”
The more I tell her, the more my heart swells. I love her so much.
“What’s next, though?” I ask. “I can’t call the police about being kidnapped or Phil hurting me, since they basically work for him. And I can’t tell Arielle, because then she’ll know that I know, and probably tell Phil.”
“You can talk to your dad,” Kristen suggests. “And you have me and Dark Static and Golden Ace. Dream team, honestly. By the way, are we thinking Phil did it?”
I cradle my head in my arms. Trucks zoom behind us, and the ocean seems just as loud. But there’s no ringing in my ears.
“There’s no proof Phil was responsible,” I say. “Only proof that he wanted to hurt people for knowing too much. Knowing what, though?”
“We’re back to thinking it was Mr. and Mrs. Levine, and maybe the hydroplane was an accident?”
I remember Phil’s voice on the tapes. We have to take them out. ‘Them.’ Not ‘her.’
“He wanted Fox’s parents gone too,” I say. But what caused Mom’s skull fracture before the car crash?
Kristen coughs. “You know, if you want to find out more about Bridges…”
I know where she’s leading. “No. I’m not going to Hallowfest.”
“It’s at his house, Mads. I can ditch Aaron and get you in.”
“Phil already wants to kidnap me. His house is the freaking lion’s den. No way.”
“You’ll have a mask on,” says Kristen. “I’ll make you a superb one. No one will recognize you.”
“I’ll think about it. Don’t ditch Aaron yet.” If Aaron really is Dark Static, he’ll need a way into Hallowfest too.
As if she can sense my restlessness, Kristen pushes my cup against my wrist. “Drink up, Mads. You need it.”
I swallow some lukewarm Earl Grey, not my favorite, but my body reacts to the liquid almost instantly, my tiredness vanishing with every swallow.
“Outstanding,” Kristen says as I perk up. “If I could do that, I’d never fall asleep during a test again.”
I look over the water, where the waves go white against the rocks. I wish I could agree with her.
“Someone died today. Because of me.”
The good guys don’t kill. That’s the takeaway I’ve gotten from every Superhero story in the universe. Even when Golden Ace defends Capital City from a villain, civilian casualties are mostly non-existent. What does it say about me, that I’ve taken Jack Wilson’s life?
“It was an accident,” says Kristen. “You couldn’t have known you had powers, and he pushed you. And he kidnapped you!”
“I don’t think that will hold up in court.” I pull my legs toward me, unable to sit still. “I should be in jail.” Holy Aces. I should be in jail.
“What if he had a family?” I ask. “What if he was a single dad? What if—”
She cuts me off. “Madeline. Phil assigned Wilson to hurt you knowing this could happen. Whatever Wilson’s situation was, Phil didn’t have to ask what-if. He knew. He put Wilson’s life at risk, and he knew the costs.”
After the tide collides with the cliffs, it swirls around the rocks, then back into the ocean.
“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 about another project. 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.