Super Powereds: Year 2 (65 page)

“For your sake, I hope so,” Professor Fletcher said. “Fine. You can miss all the classes until spring break. I’ll settle things with the dean and the other professors. I expect a full report on what you learned as soon as you get back, obviously.”

“Of course. Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, you should probably head back to the surface. I’ve got a class coming up and you have a trip to plan.”

Hershel didn’t need to be told twice; he exited the room so fast that Professor Fletcher was left momentarily wondering if the husky kid had been concealing a super-speed ability.

127.

“Let me ask, do you have any swimsuits that don’t look like they were purchased from a nunnery?” Violet held up a truly awful one-piece that had body-masking ruffles perfectly illustrating her point.

“I like to be comfortable when I swim,” Camille defended weakly.

“And I’d like for the gentleman you’ve got your eye on to not be capable of taking his own peepers off you,” Violet shot back. “Come on, they invited us to a giant beach house for a week of surf, sand, and severe intoxication. The least you can do is offer up a little eye candy.”

Camille shuffled her feet and kept her eyes trained on the floor. “There will be plenty of girls for him to stare at. Half of our class is coming.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Violet sighed, setting down her friend’s suit. It had taken her days of wheedling to convince Camille to do a wardrobe evaluation in her dorm before setting off on the trip. “You and I both know he’s not the type to go stupid over some barely-covered breasts. Honestly, he’s so non-aggressive that if not for his history with Sasha I’d be wondering if he played for the other team.”

Camille snorted a laugh. “He can be a little a shy.”

“You can be shy. He’s just... I’m actually not sure what the word is.”

“He’s different,” Camille answered for her, an unexpected smile dancing across her face.

“I’ll give you that,” Violet agreed. “However, he is still male. Male and able to be sexually engaged. So maybe let’s at least get you something to swim in that’s cute, if still modest.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No, and if you don’t give in soon, I’m going to call Stella and get her involved, too.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiine,” Camille said, stretching out the word into half acceptance and half groan. “Fine. We can go to the mall. But I’m not getting anything I’m uncomfortable wearing in public.”

“Nor would I want you to,” Violet replied. “I just want everyone to be able to see how cute you really are.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Camille hopped up from the bed and grabbed her keys. There were only a few days left until everyone departed for the beach. Better to start the hunt for a mutually satisfactory swimsuit now rather than get strong-armed into something when the deadline drew near.

* * *

“I have to say, I’m impressed with you,” Angela commented as her little brother haphazardly tossed clothes into a duffle bag. “I never would have expected you to skip a week of training to go lounge at the beach.”

Shane avoided looking at his sister, who was perched on his bed, idly flipping through some of his books as she talked. Angela had shown up, uninvited and unwanted, half an hour ago to talk about spring break plans. He greatly suspected she’d come with the intention of forcing him into some activity he’d hate; however, she’d been beaten to the punch on that one.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” he grumbled, digging through the shallow dorm dresser drawers for extra socks. “They gave an open invite and my entire team jumped on it. Half of them are good friends with Team One anyway, the rest weren’t going to give up a free beach cabin.”

“That’s why I’m impressed. Shane from a year ago would have just trudged on with his training in spite of the fact that his whole team was going off to share an awesome experience. Being a captain has been good for you.”

A witty retort smashed against Shane’s teeth, begging to be let out, but he held it in. She didn’t need to know that he’d only appreciated the importance of team unity because it made them work together better in matches. She certainly didn’t need to be informed that Shane considered this a golden opportunity to gather information on the people he’d be most likely to face in the year’s final match. No, better she think this some silly attempt on his part to feel closer to his team.

“I’m half surprised you didn’t find a way to invite yourself along,” Shane replied, shifting the topic away from himself.

“I thought about it, but the only folks I know from your grade are you and Chad. He’s not going, and you’re a sourpuss, so it didn’t seem like it would be much fun.”

“What will you be doing with your time off then?”

“Cancun with some people from my own class,” she said with a shrug. “I do have my own friends, you know.”

“You’d never guess it from the way you hang around me,” Shane sniped.

“That’s just ’cause I like to make sure my widdle brother doesn’t get so tightly wound that he has a heart attack when he’s twenty.”

“I am not tightly wound,” Shane said, his neck tightening in annoyance. “I just don’t take life as flippantly as you.”

“Potato, potahto,” Angela said. “Speaking of, you got any grub? I have got a powerful hunger gnawing at my gut.”

Shane resisted the urge to try and hurl a lamp at her head. She’d just dodge it if he did, and then he’d be less one lamp. Instead he focused on the fact that the upside of this week would be seven magical days away from the annoying interruptions of his sister. For once, Shane couldn’t wait until classes were over.

* * *

Nick was an hour away from Lander at a nondescript diner, eating a burger that he could only assume was the chef’s manifesto of hate against the world, when the girl walked in. Her long dark curls hung midway down a back wrapped in a red leather jacket that clung just the right amount of tightly to her chest. Her legs were sheathed in leather too, ostensibly a safety precaution since she’d ridden here on a motorcycle, but the way they hugged her noteworthy ass suggested an ulterior motive in their selection. She scanned the diner once, then walked to Nick’s booth and sat down.

“My goodness, I didn’t expect delivery from our top reproduction specialist,” Nick said by way of greeting.

“Please, you know this kind of stuff isn’t my area. Cybil did the work, but she had a bar mitzvah for her nephew so she asked me to make the drop.”

“How kind of you.”

The girl’s eyes twinkled as her mouth twisted into a smirk. “I couldn’t just pass up the chance to see the legendary Nicholas Campbell playing a good boy. Nice clothes, by the way.”

Nick bristled inwardly but kept any annoyance off his face. He was playing a role; the fact that he looked so ridiculous spoke only to the fact that he had succeeded in creating an identity truly separate from his own.

“Eliza, much as I adore your body, your wit has never wowed me. How about we get down to business?”

“No need to be rude. Just because I’m the one girl in Vegas you haven’t been inside doesn’t mean you get a pass to be a dick. Especially not when I come bearing gifts.” She reached into her jacket and produced a thick white envelope. Carefully setting it on the table, she slid it over until it touched Nick’s plate.

Nick set down his burger and wiped his hands on the barely adequate napkin. He gently plucked up the envelope and popped it open by sliding his thumb along the seal. A quick survey of the contents seemed to satisfy him, as he laid it back on the table and returned to his meal. “Tell Cybil she’ll get the money within the week. Also let her know the work was exceptional, as always.”

“I’ll pass it along,” Eliza replied. “Why do you need that many fake IDs?”

“Think of it as my little contribution to a truly exceptional vacation.”

“Whatever, long as Cybil gets paid,” Eliza said with a shake of her head. “I think that concludes our business. Unless you want to introduce me to some of these mysterious fellow students of yours.”

“If that were the plan I wouldn’t have met you out here,” Nick pointed out. “Besides, you’d loathe them. Dreadfully dull compared to the company we keep.”

“I bet.” Eliza’s tone said she didn’t believe him, but her rising and heading out the door said she didn’t really care.

That was good; Nick had no intention of letting his real life and his Lander life mix. Much like the awful meal he was barely getting down, that particular combination of ingredients would produce a truly horrific flavor.

128.

Roy might have known how to ride a motorcycle, but Hershel was less certain of both his balance and his ability to shrug off a collision. Thankfully, Nick was carpooling with Alex to the beach house, so he’d offered up his car as a substitute. Hershel’s only concern as he cruised along the sun-ravaged highway was that this tiny automobile would offer scarcely more protection that a bike in a crash. Still, it wasn’t dependent on him managing not to tip over, so for that much he was thankful.

It hadn’t been a long trip from Lander campus to Colorado; despite waiting to say goodbye to Mary before departing, the afternoon sky was still bright as Hershel pulled into the gravel parking lot. It would be a few hours until the sizable building before him was open for business, but Hershel’s father would be here already. He was always a man early to rise and begin the day’s work. Hershel could have gotten here faster if he hadn’t stopped so often, but something in his stomach seemed to be twisted up. This resulted in more bathroom and antacid breaks than necessary. He was here, at last. All he had to do was get out of the car and walk in the door.

An hour later the sun was drifting downward and Hershel was still sitting in Nick’s car. There was no going back, not after making Roy miss class and keeping him confined for a week. His brother’s wrath would be tremendous; the only saving grace would be making this work. Still, how many years had it been since he’d seen his father? Since he’d looked at the gigantic man with his own eyes? His mother had done a tremendous job of hiding Titan’s Scandal from Hershel; it hadn’t been until after Roy went to see him that they found out what happened. Until then, he hadn’t understood why his father left. He’d only known how much he missed him.

It occurred to Hershel that if he didn’t move soon, other cars might start showing up. There were a few hours of daylight left, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be early-birds. The idea of having his reunion with other people around was enough to finally force Hershel from the fabric seat he’d been stalling for time in. He shut the door and locked the doors with the fob on the keychain.

No going back. Hershel began the long walk toward the front door.

* * *

Nick let out a low whistle as he took in the layout of Alice’s beach house. The ground floor was enormous, with a spectacular kitchen and living room that looked like it could comfortably seat twenty people, all with a good view of the enormous plasma television. Through a door on the side was a game room, two pool tables, and what appeared to be an old-school arcade game already visible from Nick’s vantage point. Next to the restaurant-grade refrigerator was a single tap above a knob with twenty various beer logos on it. He’d seen a similar setup at some high-end bars, one tap able to pull from multiple routed kegs, but even in the decadence of Vegas Nick had never encountered such a system in a home.

“I’ll say this about your dad, he knows how to build a party pad,” Nick commented.

“My dad hates this kind of place,” Alice corrected him. “Like I said, it mainly exists so he can loan it out to clients or businesses he is wooing.”

“Consider me wooed.”

“Wow, this place is huge!” Vince exclaimed, dragging his bag in through the door. Alex was only a few steps behind, his amazement apparent in the way his eyes flitted about the surroundings. The quartet had left earlier than the rest of the students to make sure they were there to greet arrivals. It had taken them longer than expected to arrive, though that was chiefly because Alex’s car, while roomy, wasn’t quite built for speed. They’d received more than a few middle-finger salutes as they puttered along the highway at fifty miles an hour, but they’d still managed to arrive intact.

“I recommend you guys stake out rooms on the second floor,” Alice advised. “The third floor only has three bedrooms, and one of them is just a giant area filled with bunk beds. It dominates most of the floor, so the other rooms on three are pretty cozy.”

“Don’t you want to take first pick?” Alex asked politely.

“The one that’s locked is mine,” Alice replied. “I had the cleaning staff set it up for me. It’s the only single bed in the place, so you’ll forgive me for grabbing it.”

“I think that’s very fair, especially given how generous you are to let us all come here,” Vince said. “Are there any rooms on the second floor with three beds? If we bunk together, we leave more options for the other guests.”

“Up the stairs, third door to the right,” Alice informed him.

“Not so fast there, bucko,” Nick said, holding up a hand to stop Vince’s forward progress. “First things first: I brought party favors.” He reached into his pocket and produced a crumpled white envelope. A brief flurry of activity from his nimble fingers sifted through its contents and suddenly three laminated cards were gripped in his digits. Nick extended the first to Alice, then handed one each to Vince and Alex.

“Fake ID’s?” Alex’s voice sounded as confused as Vince’s face looked.

“This isn’t a college town,” Nick explained. “This is a tourist destination. There’s always places we can go back home where the drinking age is determined by whether or not you can pay your tab. Here it’s different. Lots of places will enforce not only a drinking age, but a minimum age to enter. Now, I’m not saying you have to use them to get served alcohol, I’m just saying these ensure we can avail ourselves of any club or venue we find enticing.”

“Why does it have our real names?” Vince asked. “I admit I don’t know much about this stuff, but I thought you were supposed to use fake names.”