knows whether I could have stopped you or not.”
“Uh, yeah, they do .” I hold up my hand, making electricity wash over it in waves for a second. Riley can turn invisible. I can zap things. And he was somehow supposed to stop me? “The League really expects you to... what? Take a shot of lightning to the head to protect some murderer?”
Riley scowls. “He wasn’t a murderer. That’s the whole point. We were wrong about him. Heroes out in the field could be wrong about the criminals they’re chasing, too. And they’re— we’re —not supposed to let other heroes hurt unarmed citizens. That rule is there to protect people.”
“From League members .” Because even they know that signing some stupid piece of paper doesn’t really mean they can be trusted.
“Everyone makes mistakes. And you know what happened to Sarah, and she would never hurt anyone.”
I don’t agree with that, but I get what he’s saying. “That wasn’t her mistake. It was mine.” If I hadn’t accidentally zapped her stupid personality enhancer, she never would have gone on some crazy villain-hating spree. “Just like this was.”
Riley rolls his eyes at me. “Come on, X. Don’t be like that. You didn’t know.”
But even if I had, that wouldn’t have changed anything. “And what if I screw up again and get you in more trouble?”
“You won’t. And you wouldn’t have this time if you’d just listened to me.”
“But if I do, you basically get kicked out of school.” Which means no joining the League, which is, like, his whole future.
“So don’t break the rules.” He makes that sound so simple.
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts . You’re my friend, and we were owning that class. We make a good team. You messing up once doesn’t change that, so just shut up about it.”
“But—”
“Seriously, X. I mean it. It’s not like you’re going to make the same mistake. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Except it wasn’t a mistake. I mean, assuming the situation had been real, like we thought it was. And that was a rule I actually knew about. What happens when I break one on accident?
But Riley’s smiling at me like he doesn’t care that I screwed up, because we really do make a good team. I messed up and got him in trouble, and he’s still my friend, and he still wants to work with me. So I smile back and say, “Yeah, you’re right. Everything’s going to be fine.” Even if I don’t really believe it.
“D amien.” Gordon walks into the living room later that evening, waving a brochure. Only walks might not be the right word. It’s more like he’s trying not to stomp.
I stop doing my homework and set down my binder next to me on the couch, giving him my full attention. “What’s wrong, Dad? You sound like something’s bothering you.”
He scowls. “I found this in my desk.”
“Oh?” I say that all innocent, like I don’t know what he’s talking about. And no, it’s not the same brochure I found. It’s not the one about sending superpowered kids to some camp that’s not-so-secretly an asylum.
“Did you make this?” He holds the brochure out to me. It’s glossy, full color—really professional looking. So I’m not sure why he thinks I made it. Well, other than the picture of him I used for the photo on the front.
In the picture, he’s standing there in his Crimson Flash outfit, with his red cape billowing out behind him. On the top of the brochure, it says, If you’ve got severe bowel problems made worse by your superpowers, don’t worry—you’re not alone. And at the Super Sanitarium, we’re here to help.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “I think you need to be more selective about which companies you agree to be a spokesperson for. Unless you really do have severe bowel problems. I mean, don’t sell people false hope.”
He glares at me. I can hear his teeth grinding. “Let me put it another way. I know you made this brochure. Now I want to know why.”
“I don’t
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