Connor (7 page)

Friday night came, and the step competition was in full force. It was the big division battle, and we were up against last year's rival. They swore we only beat them only by one point or we cheated somehow. This past year, our team worked extra hard and came up with some new moves.

Stoney had a solo, and he owned it. The crowd was rowdy as he put on a show. He was overly animated, which clued some of us in about his questionable sexuality, but Hope as usual didn't get the hint. She screamed “That's my man,” while Angela, Bobby, and some others exchanged glances, then cheered right on.

Once again, like last year, we blew them out the water. We won for the fourth season in a row. Our archnemesis came in second. They are actually good, but we won't tell them that.

After the competition was over, we met up with Stoney, tonight's Mr. MVP, and a few others to decide where we were going to grub. If I was hungry, I know they were starving, but then again, when am I not hungry? I was about to suggest a place when I remembered tonight's meeting in the cave with Tony and the others at eleven.

It was already ten thirty, and I hadn't even thought up an excuse to give. I rode with Angela here, but I couldn't tell her to drop me off at the school. No excuse in the world could explain that one, so walking there was the only option. The school was only a few blocks away, but I needed to get going to make it there on time.

“What's wrong, Connor? You look confused,” Angela asked. I really need to control my facial expressions.

I was about to blurt something unbelievable out when Tony came over. He probably didn't even know it, but he saved me from an interrogation of the worst kind.

“Hey, Connor. What's up, guys?” Tony said, acknowledging the boys on the team. They obviously knew each other according to what the conversation entailed. After the boys finished grunting and making odd noises, which seems so caveman like, Tony turned his attention back to me. “Sorry, I'm late, but it was virtually impossible to muscle through this crowd. Don't be mad.” Then he leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I must have had the stupidest look on my face to make Hope nudge some sense into me. “Oh that's… huh…

what… that's okay, I totally understand. I wasn't sure if you were really going to show up or not,” I said, stumbling over my words, as if English was not my primary language. From the corner of my eye, I could see the girls laughing at me.

“I got to represent. I think everyone from school is here. Besides, I had to see how the commoners compete, being an extremist myself, of course,” he said, giving the guys a hard time. They went back and forth, giving each other crap for a minute until someone remembered food.

I was about to say we can't, but Tony cut me off. “That's cool, Connor, do you want to ride with me?”

I refused to look at either Hope or Angela and said yes. He was throwing me off; obviously, he had to tell me something. Maybe the meeting was canceled, which was fine with me. Fridays are for going out.

We decided to meet up at our favorite burger joint, Juicy Burger, then went our separate ways to our modes of transportation. I was about to ask him something when he shook his head no.

Walking to his car in silence, I wondered, did something happen to one of the others? He steered me toward a midnight-blue racer-striped 2011 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500. This is one of my top favorite cars ever. I fell, no, I melted against it. “Is this mine?” That accidentally slipped out, but that didn't stop me from hugging the car.

He blinked a few times, then said, “No, it's mine, and if it goes missing, I'm coming for you. Please get off the hood and get in the car so we can go.” I said just kidding, trying to play if off, but first chance, this car is mine.

“So I guess you like her, huh?” he asked, spinning out the lot, showing off how fast she can go.

“She is only one of the hottest cars ever. I asked my dad for one last year, and he told me to get real. Instead, I needed something cute and durable. Men are so chauvinistic.” For some reason, Tony found that to be funny. “It's not funny. I like muscle cars, so why can't a girl have one if a boy can? Everybody knows women are better drivers anyway,” I said, all riled up.

“I'm not about to debate sexism with you, or we will be here all night. I believe in equal rights, so you can take that up with your dad,” Tony said, half looking at the road and me.

“Fine, what's up with the change of plans? Or are we bailing on my friends because if so, I am not okay with that and…”

He cut me off, telling me to calm down and take a breather. “One day I will let you drive the car, okay. I can respect any woman who can appreciate a nice car.”

Flattered he called me a woman, I had to conceal a smile. “Good, so then I can show you how this puppy really handles. Like I said, women are better drivers. We can multitask. Sorry, I got excited,” I apologized, but chauvinism irks me. “What is with the change of plans and the secrecy in the lot?”

“It's cool. I set the meeting back an hour, remembering the step competition today. I knew how badly you wanted to go. That way you could hang with your friends a bit, so the meeting is at midnight now. I just needed to catch up with you to let you know. As far as hushing you in the lot, we have to be extra careful in case anyone, like that punk, is watching or listening to us,” Tony said, sounding still angry that the boy stepped to me and not him.

Men and their egos. I handled myself quite well, but he was right. “I understand, especially since we know there is someone else who knows about us but we don't know a thing about him. Thank you for thinking of me. What did the others say when you told them?” I asked.

“Don't worry about them, they always set the time. I explained the situation, and they understood. I really didn't care if they didn't like it,” he said.

“Afterward, we will come up with some excuse to leave, then I will take you home after. Is that okay?” he asked.

“Works for me, and thank you, Tony, that was really sweet of you.”

We drove the rest of the way, making small talk and rehashing the competition. We finally arrived at the burger joint just in time because my stomach was about to eat itself. Some people were already there ordering, and some just got there when we did.

We ordered, we grubbed, we laughed, then Tony and I bounced. I was glad because the “I told you so” looks I kept getting from the Angela and Hope drove me nuts.

He took his time driving while we talked and acted silly from the drunkenness of good food. His sense of humor was somewhat goofy like mine, so the conversation flowed. As soon as we arrived, all we wanted was a nap, but tonight's meeting was important.

Like last time, we were the last ones to arrive, and of course, the others dressed as if they stepped out of a fashion magazine. Let them have fashion; I like my geeky gear.

“Nice of you two to show up,” Cheyenne said as soon as we entered the room before we could even take a seat. She sat in the black chair facing the entry with her arms delicately displayed on the armrest of the chair, her body stiffly positioned, showing no emotion.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I sat as far away as possible from her. Okay, I got the hint; there was definitely something between the two of them. Whatever it was, that was for him to handle, not me.

“Sorry, we got here as soon as we could. Anything new?” Tony said, ignoring her cold stare; he sat down on the couch, away from her.

Willow spoke up first. “Byron may have stumbled upon something new,” she said it trying to sound bubbly, but I detected a hint of sadness in her voice that she tried to hide, but it piqued my curiosity as to why wouldn't she be overjoyed with the possibility of new information.

“Yeah, I visited my grandfather recently and managed to get some alone time with him since he has help around him all the time. I tried asking him about me and the possibility of me being different,” Byron said.

“See, he had always been the head of my family. He was heavily involved in the finances and our livelihood. Why? Probably because when he was young, he invested in some private organization and made bank. Other than that, I do not know. All I know is my dad allowed it even when they argued,” Byron explained.

Willow jumped up, sounding all too perky this time. “Mr. Conway, Byron's grandfather is loaded. My family is rich, but he is richer than God is. This man ran every business in town. People practically bowed down…”

Byron grabbed her arm. “Okay, Willow, I think they got it.” He sounded a little embarrassed.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” she said, then sat back down, still smiling from ear to ear. She reminds me of those future homemakers that only cared about the money and status.

My mom has to deal with some of those women who come in to volunteer at the clinic, complaining about what a hard life they have because they have to drive a year-old car or their husbands have to work long hours—usually something trivial—while the patients that come in are sick, poor, and/or can barely buy food, among a million other problems. Greediness and snobs really piss me off. Just because you're well-off doesn't mean you should flaunt or brag about it.

Realizing I was staring at Willow and not Byron, who was talking, I pushed her out my mind to listen.

“Anyway, he was mumbling on about some hidden organization that no one really fully comprehended but him. I asked him what he meant, but he has dementia, memory loss, so it was vague, and you can't always get straight answers out of him. Some days he is lucid, and other days he's not.” As Byron continued, he kept fidgeting with his glasses. I got the impression he didn't like talking too much about private affairs.

“He told me we should have never brought that evil into the family. He got all upset with me, saying I should have been stronger than he was. Then kept shouting 'Evil is among us all and my soul is forsaken' repeatedly. He got so upset, he had a seizure. Before I could calm him down, the nurse, along with Hanna, the headmistress, did something to calm him down, got scolded by Hanna, and then they took him upstairs to rest. I have never seen him act like that. In this past year, he has gotten considerably worse,” Byron said.

“I'm sorry about your grandfather, but why would he say that to you?” I asked.

“He sometimes confuses me with my father, so maybe he thought he was talking to my dad.” For the fifth time, he removed his glasses to wipe them clean again. I wanted to tell him to stop or there wouldn't be any glass left.

“Anyway, I remembered my dad packing up some of my grandfather's files and other important papers last year and storing them in the basement of the west wing. For the past three months, my dad has been visiting him a lot more,” he said, emphasizing the words “a lot.”

“Is that unusual for your dad to visit him? If he was involved in the finances, maybe your dad has been picking his brain for some new money-making deal. I mean, when he is lucid,” Tony asked.

“Maybe he was not so much visiting him but researching something,” Byron said.

“Research what? Let's go to your grandfather's house and find out,” I said louder than expected from sheer excitement of this discovery; finally, a break.

“I don't know what exactly, but I was thinking about us going there too,” Byron said, looking in Willow's direction, the latter part of his sentence trailing off.

“I mean now,” I said. “Look, we are all together now, and there is no better time than the present. I just developed this, whatever you want to call it, and I'm very interested in finding out as much as possible.” It was so silent in the room, you could hear a pin drop. My heart sank. Was no one was up for this?

“What's up with you, guys? Byron, when you spoke, you kept cleaning your glasses as if you were wiping the filth off, as in yours. Are you guys ashamed to be different or something?” I asked.

“Listen, Connor, not all of us was gung ho as you when we discovered our abilities,” said Cheyenne. “People look up to us.”

I was trying my best to ignore her, and it was getting harder and harder to do. She really worked my last nerve.

“Yeah, Cheyenne, Byron, and I come from pretty wealthy families, you know,” Willow said.

“So? I'm not impressed. What's your point?” I asked. “These abilities are more of a burden to us. We live in

a cookie-cutter world where if you are different, you get shunned,” Willow explained. “I'm not trying to sound like a snob, but it's just the way things are.”

I stood up, walked behind the couch, took some deep breaths, then counted to ten. I stayed behind the couch facing the others, trying not to lose it. “Are you kidding me? So what are you saying? You don't want to know what is going on? Because I sure do. I want to know how we came to be and what he meant by 'evil.' ”

“Probably nothing, Connor, the man has dementia,” Tony said. “Sorry, Byron.” Byron nodded in his direction as if to say, “It's cool.” “I agree with Connor—”

“Of course you do,” Cheyenne said, cutting him off.

Tony let out a long sigh. “Like I was saying, I agree with Connor.” He stared directly at Cheyenne, giving her the “back off” glare. “We need to know more. I have been sitting back on this because you all have been hesitant. Now we may possibly have a lead, so let's follow up on it.”

“Why are you guys pushing this so hard?” asked Willow. “What gives?”

Tony and I told them about the boy from school and the fight. By the time we finished, everybody was up out of their seats, talking at once.

“Why are you just now telling us this? That should have been the first thing out of your mouth tonight,” Byron said, clearly upset. “You could have at least called me, Tony.”

“Sorry. I should have let you know, and tonight when you started talking, it slipped my mind,” Tony said.

“Are you okay? Who is this boy?” Byron asked me.

“I have only seen him once at school before but never saw him glow before only that one time,” I explained.

“I want to meet this kid and find out who he is,” Tony said to Byron who nodded. “He could expose us.”

“We definitely have to talk to him. I say we all meet at your school Monday, seek him out, then approach him after school. Agreed?” Byron asked.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony agreed along with the rest of us.

I thought, finally a plan to get things done. “Anyway, now do you see why we need to find out what is going on ASAP?” I said.

“What is going on? This is not good at all. This is getting way too deep,” Willow whined.

What did she think was going to happen, this would go away if she ignored things long enough?

“It's okay, Willow, don't stress. You don't have to do anything you don't want to,” Byron said, trying to console her as she fell into his arms.

Just when Byron took a step forward, she pulled him two steps back. I'm sure Willow was a very nice girl, but she started getting on my nerves too. They all did at this point. Even Tony pacified them too much for me.

I told myself, “Connor, be nice,” but my little self-pep talk didn't exactly work because words were spewing out my mouth, filter off. I pretty much told them all what I thought about their stall tactics, about selfish people, and how they hold others back. They didn't like it, but unbeknownst to them, they don't get to run me. I was on a mission, so either join me or move out of my way.

“So are you going to give me the keys to your grandfather's house, Byron, or do I have to break in? Heads up, if I get caught, I'm naming names,” I said, pointed to each one of them. “We poor folk in noncookie-cutter worlds have no standards, so let's be real, me breaking into a house to find answers are acceptable, right?” I acted so obnoxiously animated as the words came out my mouth, but I didn't care.

“I hate to break it to you, but this is not going away, Willow. Our cover is blown, so it's time to face reality, people, because you don't have a choice.” I don't know what came over me, but I needed answers, and I was going to get them one way or another. Besides, they're not the ones getting in fights and sensing someone following them.

Willow and Byron stood there with their mouths open, Cheyenne had the “if the looks could kill expression” targeted at me most likely, plotting my death, while Tony stared me down.

“Remind me never to piss you off, but she is right, guys. I have sat back and let you run the show, but no more. I'm with you, Connor,” Tony said, standing by my side.

“Fine, then we can go, but why can't we wait until daylight like civilized people?” Willow asked.

She made me want to vomit from the naïveté of it all. “Oh yes, I can see it now. While we are having tea and crumpets, we will simply ask, 'So, Gramps, what exactly did you mean when you said 'evil'?”

Cheyenne turned her head, stifling a laugh. If she found this amusing, why didn't she speak up or back me up? I was past hot at this point. “There is no way I will allow any of you to stop me from…”

Suddenly, Tony grabbed me, saying something, but I ignored him. I finally shut up when a chair flew my way, forcing me to the floor.

“Damn, your eyes are glowing. They're…,” Tony said. “Violet,” Willow cut in, standing over me.

“You're going to have to learn to control that temper if this is what happens,” Tony said to me as I got up.

Willow shoved a mirror in my face, and sure enough, my eyes were glowing violet. It was wicked.

Before I could ask if they had experienced this, they were huddled around me. I hit Byron's hands a couple of times when he tried to touch my eyes. Eventually, they returned to their normal shade of brown.

Byron shook his head, mouth open. “No, you're the only one, Connor. And by the way, this is you?” he asked, pointing to the furniture.

The room was in disarray of scattered furniture and torn curtains. “Sorry.” What else could I say?

On that note, we decided not to wait any longer and head to Byron's grandfather's house that night.