Super Powereds: Year 2 (41 page)

“Let’s go kick some steel-shifting ass,” Alice quipped as the duo set off to do battle on the ground of thrown projectiles.

78.

Roy was rarely impressed by anything that didn’t involve D-cups and a size zero waist, but as he watched the freshman pour yet another cup of beer down his throat, he had to admit it was something worth watching. The kid had introduced himself as Cameron then put a hurting on the kegs that would have left a rock star envious. The boy was basically filling his lean frame with hops-brewed alcohol as fast as he could work his way through the line. Most of the freshmen in this situation were more timid or bashful about their activities. Not this kid. Roy admired that sort of bravado.

“What’s that make, fifteen?”

“Probably,” Cameron said with a shrug. “I’m not great at counting.”

“Most people at that point wouldn’t be great at standing.”

“I’ve got a high tolerance.”

“So I can see. I heard you say you’re Cameron, right? I’m Roy Daniels.” He held out his hand, which the younger boy accepted and immediately shook. His grip was strong, beyond what a human would have been able to casually manage, but not overly impressive by Super standards.

“I know who you are, but it’s nice to meet you officially.”

“My legendary drinking and fighting prowess precedes me, huh?”

“Nah, everyone in my class just knows about the Powereds who got into the HCP.” If Cameron was at all aware of the subtle tension that bloomed from the people standing around him, he didn’t show it. In fact, he did nothing more than down another half of a beer in a single swift sip.

Roy stared at the smaller boy with forced calm. Given his size and seeming strength, there were limited options for why he’d make a comment like that. Either he was an idiot, he was much more powerful than he seemed, or he simply was too thick to realize it might be an offensive thing to say. Before Lander, Roy would have dismissed the last one immediately, but time with Vince and Chad had shown him that some perfectly competent people could have social blind spots the size of elephants. He decided to test the waters before selecting a reaction.

“We were Powereds. We’re Supers now.”

“Oh, my bad. The grapevine sucks at details.” He took another swig of beer and stared at Roy quizzically. It looked like it was the socially ignorant option after all. Roy was glad he’d resisted the urge to hurl the kid through the wall. Thomas probably would have never forgiven him for the repair bills.

“I think one of the beer pong tables is open. Let’s fill a pitcher and see what you’ve got,” Roy said with a charming smile.

“Cool.” Cameron didn’t worry about much as long as there was beer. For his part, Roy was confident he could keep the tone of the match more fun than the one Hershel and Nick had started last year. Not to mention this kid had obviously come here with friends, some of whom were female. Freshman girls were easy-pickings, and establishing a bond with their buddy would be a faster way in than doing a cold approach. Despite his thick muscles and fist-first attitude, Roy Daniels could employ a bit of tact and strategy when it came to the fairer sex.

* * *

Candi stood out in the yard and tried to will away her tension. She wasn’t like Cameron with his unflappable nature, or Gale with her power to see through people, or even Walter and his clumsy schemes to ingratiate himself to others. Candi was a girl who was comfortable in solitude, who liked her own company in a way that most people would spend lifetimes trying to emulate. However, enjoying alone time and being immune to needing companionship were different things.

College, and the HCP especially, had shown her the importance of having friends. That was why she was here tonight. Her discomfort in unfamiliar situations was why she currently stood on the dilapidated grass that passed for a backyard.

The new owners were working to undo the neglect of countless tenants before them, Candi could have seen that even without her abilities. There were fresh sprouts popping out of the ground, eagerly bursting forth from soil that was finally being watered with regularity. She could feel their joy, their drive to grow big and strong. Plants were so positive most of the time; it was why humans found nature so soothing. Candi liked to believe that even though everyone couldn’t hear the flora the way she could, they could still sense its goodness in some way.

“Having fun?”

Candi nearly leapt out of her sandals. She’d been so focused on the sounds of the plants around her that she’d missed the more obvious noise of a door opening behind her. Once her heartbeat slowed to a dull hammering, she turned around to see the person who’d accidently snuck up on her. He was a sophomore, short in stature with a pair of glasses resting beneath light curly hair.

“I am, I just needed some air,” Candi said lamely.

“I completely understand. These things can be a bit over-whelming.” He sat down on a stone bench that rested near the door. Despite the fact that he carried a plastic cup, he didn’t seem to be drawing from it with the same enthusiasm as the other party-goers.

“Tell me about it. I like meeting new people and all, I guess I just wish it wasn’t all so...”

“Loud?”

“Exactly. Loud.” Candi wandered over and sat down in a lawn chair a few feet away from the bench. “I like quiet conversation better. When does that become the default way to make new friends?”

“Based on my observations, long after you’ve already made the important ones.”

“I was afraid of that.” Candi chuckled lightly. “I’m Candi.”

“Will. I’m one of the actual tenants here.”

“That explains why you’re in attendance.”

“Sadly I suspect I’d be here even if it weren’t the case. I’ve grown some friendships that encourage me to step outside my comfort zone with more frequency than I would generally prefer.” Will’s eyes were skyward, picking out the few constellations visible despite the cloudy night. “Such is the trade-off of friendship: you are forced into situations you’re not secure in, but in return you have people who assure you security in any situation. Quite a fascinating system when you think it over.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Will rose quietly from his seat. “On that note, I should go check on my guests. Perhaps you should see what your friends are up to as well.”

“Good idea.” Candi got up and followed the shorter boy back into the ruckus-filled fray that was colloquially known as a party.

79.

When Sasha found Vince he was already on the losing end of a game of quarters with Gilbert. He didn’t seem too down about it, smiling and accepting his drinks with a curiously cheerful demeanor. It didn’t take a detective to piece things together, especially when he looked up and noticed her arrival.

“Sasha!” He leapt up from his metal folding chair and enveloped her in a wide-armed hug. She stiffened with surprise initially, but then relaxed as familiarity and nostalgia swept through her heart. She’d missed his hugs, and even drunken, they still held the same reassuring quality. It was like he was trying to squeeze all the sentiments he was too awkward to articulate into a single loving gesture. Sasha let the embrace go for just a few instants longer than she might have if he were sober - they weren’t on that good of terms yet - then carefully disengaged herself and flashed him a warm smile.

“I see someone is enjoying himself.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Nick interjected, walking over from his vantage point of observing a beer pong game. “Alice and I left him unattended to play some darts earlier in the evening, and before you know it he’d gone through two cups of the punch.”

“Is it that strong?”

“It ain’t jet fuel but I wouldn’t feed it to an infant, either. It’s decent, but you’ve got to remember who we’re talking about here.”

“Right.” Sasha had been with Vince the entirety of last year and in that time she could only remember him occasionally taking sips of other people’s drinks, never indulging in one of his own. That meant despite his well-trained physique he had virtually no tolerance for alcohol. “What actually got him drinking anyway?”

“I found something that tastes good,” Vince replied, punctuating his sentence with a sloppy gulp of pink liquid.

“That, and he has been worrying his ass off about one of his tests. He’s scared he won’t do well enough to stay in the program.”

“Killjoy.” Vince stuck his tongue out at Nick.

Sasha chuckled, not just at the idiocy of her former boyfriend but at the idea of him worrying about a test. She’d seen Vince shrug off nearly everything that came his way with that same unwavering determination. He would get through any challenge because he had to: that was just his way. To hear that a regular class had gotten under his skin was frankly, well, adorable. It was nice to see even the seemingly unstoppable had fears.

“We should probably slow him down,” Sasha recommended.

“Tried that; he just poaches more drinks when my back is turned.”

“You’re not all that smart, are you?” Sasha turned to Vince and gently took his cup. “Hey, Vince, you want a drink that tastes really good?”

“Better than the punch?” Even intoxicated his tone was skeptical.

“So good you’ll swear there’s no alcohol in it at all. It’s as smooth and refreshing as water, I promise.”

“Wow. Okay.” Vince yielded his cup and Sasha flashed Nick a “told you so” look before heading toward the kitchen. Drunk or not, Vince was incredibly trusting and kind of an idiot. It made him into the sort of person who could maintain such staunch ideals in the face of a world that didn’t share them, and it also made him incredibly easy to manage if one was willing to put in a little effort.

Back in the garage, Vince looked at Nick and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She looked really pretty.”

Nick laughed freely, not bothering to disguise his mirth. “Oh man, I am going to get you drunk more often.”

“Sounds good!” Vince meandered off, not waiting for a reply. Nick turned to check on the status of the beer pong game and when he looked back, Vince had procured yet another cup of the colorful punch. It was actually impressive how easily he produced them, like some bizarre booze magic trick. Nick considered snatching away the new acquisition, then shrugged it off. Sasha seemed to want to take care of him, so he’d leave it to her. Besides, if ever there was a place for Vince to cut loose a little, it was in a room full of Supers who could handle any problems he might create.

* * *

Mary and Camille sat on a dilapidated couch that had been set alongside threadbare chairs in the hopes of creating a makeshift lounge area. It provided an excellent view of the garage as well as a vantage point to see out the garage door, allowing one to observe various comings and goings as they occurred. Neither of the small–framed girls sipped on anything stronger than soda, but after watching the way Vince and Sasha had embraced, Camille was beginning to find herself sorely tempted.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Mary said, loud enough to be heard yet soft enough not to be overheard.

“Sorry?” Neither girl had said much beyond the usual friendly chit-chat upon taking a seat. They were both more comfortable as silent observers than as active participants, at least when it came to situations like these.

“I wouldn’t recommend getting a drink. I don’t think it will help the situation.”

“Oh, you heard that?”

“I did, and even if I didn’t I could have guessed it. You sort of wear your feelings on your face,” Mary explained.

“I know.” Lying to a telepath was a waste of both of their time. She tried anyway. “It doesn’t bother me that much.”

“Or at least you feel like it shouldn’t. Like you don’t have the right to be hurt by it. He isn’t anything more than your friend, after all.”

Camille nodded.

“Did you know Roy and Hershel share memories?” Mary didn’t look at Camille as she spoke; both girls kept their eyes trained on the active people bustling through the party.

“They do?”

“Thoughts, emotions, memories, everything one experiences the other can recall. It’s the closest thing to communication they have,” Mary explained. “That means even though Hershel has never cheated on me, he regularly wakes up with crisp, genuine memories of sleeping with other women. My boyfriend is a virgin, but he has literally hundreds of woman as a standard of comparison.”

“Hundreds?”

“Roy can be charming when he wants to be,” Mary said. “The point is, Hershel can’t help that any more than I can help hearing what people think. It’s a part of his ability and the only way to stop it would be to deny an entire part of who he is. That’s something I don’t have the right to be mad about, if only because I knew it going in.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?” Camille looked at her team captain with a new measure of awe.

“Of course it bothers me. It bothers me all the damn time.”

“That seems awful.”

“It is, but that’s not why I brought it up. See, it’s an example of something that can’t be helped. If I want to be with Hershel then I can’t really complain about it. You, on the other hand, have feelings for a single man who is well within your reach. You have every right to be bothered when he squeezes his ex-girlfriend like she’s going to spurt candy. You don’t have to feel bad about feeling bad. And you don’t have to do nothing about it either.”

“Yes, I do.” Camille could have tried harder to keep the sadness off her face, but she couldn’t really see the point.

“You can take care of him. Friends do that, and the way he’s plowing through the punch, he’ll probably need it.”

“Sasha has that in hand.”

“Sasha’s first recourse was trickery. That’s not the only way to guide Vince to a conclusion. Besides, can she heal the damage his liver is taking?”

“Probably not,” Camille ceded.

“So go be his friend. Keep him safe, whatever that entails.”

Camille looked at Mary for a long minute, then set down her water and got up from the couch. She couldn’t get too close to him; she couldn’t risk losing the relationship they shared. She could, as a friend, still protect him. That was why she’d worked this hard, why she’d come this far. She could take care of him, no matter who else was around. That much was within Camille Belden’s power.