Thirty Five
Tap tap. The door creaks open as I step inside one of Arielle’s guestrooms—the one Fox has been using since Brynn’s arrest. A tray with two slices of pepperoni pizza, an apple, and Fox’s favorite red sports drink balances in my arms. Damian had tried to talk to Fox earlier, but couldn’t get him to eat anything.
Fox hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday, when he talked to Brynn.
Fox sits with his head between his knees at the edge of a queen-sized bed. He looks up when I enter. His face is gaunt and gray, and I set the tray on a dresser and join him. He tenses as I wrap him in a hug, but eventually loosens and rests his head on my shoulder.
Arielle, Kristen, Jamie, Damian, Officer Kyle, and I listened to the wire Fox wore when he confronted Brynn—the last shock, the final piece needed to put the tragedy from three years ago to rest. We expected her to confess to being Phil’s accomplice, but not to everything else.
It’s over now. At least, it’s supposed to be. I’ve learned that ghosts never really go away. You just learn to stop feeding them.
“Food will help,” I say, like he once told me. I bring the tray to the bed and set it in front of him, making sure it doesn’t spill.
“Thanks,” he answers, his voice stronger than I’d expected. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her. My parents were conflicted, I guess, but Brynn wasn’t.”
The last of this evening’s sun glows burnt orange in the window behind him. His bottle shakes as he drinks.
“That’s how I feel too,” I say.
Jamie had sobbed throughout Brynn’s confession, letting out all of his anger and confusion. Arielle screams when she showers, roaring swears at the world and Brynn and Phil. I’m not worried about Jamie or Arielle.
And me?
I’ve been at the pool inside this mansion for the last seven hours, and I’ll be back there again tonight. It’s possible the chlorine won’t ever come out of my hair. But everything except being in the water makes me angry and anxious and confused. So I swim.
Fox studies the stillness in our legs.
“I was supposed to be home that night,” he says. “With Brynn and Jamie. Damian should have been home too, next door. Damian and I grabbed pizza after school, and stayed there longer than we should have. I could have stopped Brynn.”
“You don’t know that, even if you had been home.” The “what-if” game is rigged; players can bluff on illusory cards for as long as they want, but the house always wins.
“You must hate my whole family,” he whispers. “My parents, for what they almost did. Brynn, for what she actually did. Absolute sociopath. And me. God, you must hate me.”
He pushes his face into his arms, and I inch closer.
My heart hurts for him as much as it hurts for me and my family.
I hate that he lied to me, yes. And I wish we’d gotten to this point differently.
But I also know we couldn’t have, that it had to happen the way it has.
We did the best we were each capable of at the time, and now we are both capable of so much more.
“I don’t hate you, Fox,” I whisper back. He means too much to me. He always has.
I can’t tell him that now, not like this.
Instead, I hug him tightly and wait for the thump of his heart to calm.
We stay wrapped together until he lifts his head and kisses me for real.
The speed and strength tangle with my desire to be near him, to comfort him.
It feels so perfect, tears well in my eyes.
“Thanks,” he says, catching his breath.
I grip the plush collar of his sweatshirt. Releasing him strains my heart, like losing oxygen.
“Arielle wants to have a chat with you.” I remember. “Not about Brynn, but you have to come downstairs. It’s something good.”
“Well, I’m always up for some good news.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed. Already in sweatpants and a Capital High sweatshirt, he reaches for my hand. I don’t let go as we leave his room, or when we head down the stairs. We’ll get through this together.
~
Arielle and Jamie wait in the kitchen. Arielle leans against her counter, in jeans and a striped sweater, and Jamie sits at the table, wearing a pair of fleece Wolverine pajamas.
Fox, a senior in high school, would have been out of Capital City in a year, but now that Brynn’s in jail and Jamie’s still in middle school, leaving looks more and more impractical. Arielle had apparently reached a conclusion about this the second that Brynn was arrested.
“Phil was a total idiot,” she starts. Jamie cracks up at Arielle saying “idiot,” and even Fox manages not to look as sad.
“For many reasons, one being his prenuptial agreement had more holes than our yard did. And since he broke multiple federal laws, most of his property and money is mine now.” Most people would hear her say this flatly, as if stating facts.
Only I hear the self-righteous serves him right behind it.
“Including this house,” she says.
“Mansion,” I correct her.
Arielle continues. “Madeline and our dad will move in with me, and I’d like to offer a place for both of you to stay too. Fox, you’re almost eighteen, of course you don’t have to—”
“—we’re in,” says Fox. “As long as it’s okay with Madeline.”
Our eyes lock. He means, do I want him around so much? Do I want to be in extreme proximity to him every day?
“Duh,” I answer, and Fox finally grins.
Jamie gives his brother a high-five. “YES.”
“Perfect,” Arielle says, checking items off her list. She turns to me. “Next, we need to discuss swim team.”
“I still can’t believe the news about Aaron. Er, Patrick,” I say. “I mean, he got some serious bulkage in just a few weeks, but he’d been in the freaking Olympics? That’s insane. How did you not catch that?”
She examines her nails for the tiniest imperfection. “He had a great alibi for moving to Capital City, using his mother’s new job, and there was, of course, the name change. I had suspected steroids. I mentioned it to our athletic director a few weeks ago, and here we are.”
A sadness settles on my shoulders as I consider Aaron/Patrick, who’d tried for a fresh start in Capital City, and all I did was interrogate him. He’d already destroyed his career and his relationship with his sister.
I think back to my first class with Aaron. After Fox shared the video of Dark Static setting fire to Milligan’s house, Fox, acting, had tried to get us to think about Supers.
Fox: “We don’t know anything about Supers. Who are they really, how do they get powers? Why are they acting up now?”
Molly: “No one knows. That’s the entire problem.”
Aaron: “Someone knows.”
I thought it was mysterious of Aaron to say that.
Now, after seeing him dragged through the newspaper, I wonder if there’s another conspiracy afoot.
Was Aaron referencing something in particular?
Is he really being forced out of Capital City for something other than steroids? Had he been forced out of his old city?
Capital City will fall because of this, Phil had said. Does that have any connection to what’s going on with Aaron?
I resolve to find out. I want to help, and Aaron doesn’t deserve this humiliation.
“Did you know him well?” Jamie asks, looking at me. “Like were you friends or—?”
Fox cuts him off. “Alrighty, J. Time for bed.”
“But it’s barely dark,” Jamie protests. “And I’m not tired.”
“You’re almost thirteen though,” says Fox. “And if you want to get any taller, you need a lot of sleep.”
Jamie makes a face, whining.
Fox stretches his arms above his head, uncovering the bottom planes of his abs. “If you want to get big and strong, sleep helps.”
“Fine,” says Jamie.
“I’ll come,” says Fox. He squeezes my hand again as he moves to leave the room. Does talking about swim team not pertain to him? Arielle’s harsh stare stays on me, so I guess it doesn’t.
Arielle paces across the tiled floor. “The team won’t be the same this year. I can’t believe I’m losing all of my most talented swimmers.”
“Wait.” I tense. “What do you mean, all?”
“Supers can’t compete on school teams.”
“But I was on the team before as a Super. You still let me on.”
“Yes… But you didn’t know you were a Super, and I thought I could make an exception. If you didn’t understand your powers, it was less likely that you would use them, and I couldn’t ask you to quit the swim team without giving you a reason.”
No. I imagine what my life would be like without swimming. Competing is the only time I feel calm.
“I need to swim,” I say. “I need to. You let Fox swim when he knew he was a Super, and how will I get a scholarship if I can’t swim?”
“I let him stay on for the same reasons as you. I administered his test and caught his powers, but until he appeared as Dark Static, I didn’t have a problem. The day after he burned down Milligan’s house, I went to talk to him about leaving the team. And I can help you with college.”
I bite my lip, confused. I remember the conversation she had with Fox. It was the one I had walked in on when I thought Arielle was giving Fox extra workouts.
“You and Fox were working together the whole time?” I ask.
“No. I didn’t know what he was up to until your powers came out. A few days before Hallowfest, I reached out to see if he could help you. That’s when we realized we were on the same side.”
Oh. That makes more sense. Neither of them was a step ahead of the other, as much as they’d like to say they were. Instead, Phil had been leaps ahead of all of us.
“Why was Fox allowed to swim?” I ask.
“To discover if Aaron was a Super. I didn’t get to administer Aaron’s test, and something seemed very off about him. As it turns out, I was right, and Fox doesn’t need to swim anymore.”
My heart sinks, dragging my entire life with it, because of rules.