Read Super Powereds: Year 3 Online
Authors: Drew Hayes
“All right, but if I accidentally break one of your toes, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Vince replied, rising from his chair.
“Maybe it’s time we all started thinking about getting some dance partners,” Alex said. He glanced about the section to see who was remaining.
“Why not try our luck with someone not in direct competition with us?” Will suggested. “There seem to be plenty of beautiful women who we won’t have to fistfight sometime in the near future.”
“The man makes a good point,” Alex said. He and Will stood up as well, though Alex paused to smooth out the various facets of his coat. “You two should probably go ahead. Will and I need to formulate a game plan. We can’t go out there without having proper wingman duties assigned.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I’m probably better off not knowing,” Vince said, chuckling softly to himself. “Come on, Camille; let’s go try not to wound each other.”
“You ask for the impossible.” The two headed down the stairs and toward the dance floor. Alex watched them go, following the red-and-yellow striped hat carefully as it navigated through the growing crowd.
“So, what are these duties you need performed?” Will asked.
“We’ll get to that later. The real reason I had us hang back is because Mary’s on her way up, and we don’t want to miss what she’s going to say,” Alex explained.
“Shouldn’t you have stopped Vince?”
“No way,” Alex replied, permitting himself a sly grin. “He and Camille finally going off and doing something as intimate as dancing together is . . . well, not more important, but more pressing. Mary’s announcement will be here when he gets back. For now, let’s cross our fingers those two finally make some damn headway.”
87.
When Mary stepped into the seating area, she did a quick scan of those present. Angela and Chad were talking on a couch; Will and Alex were standing near the entrance, clearly waiting for her. She spotted Roy leaning on the side-railing, talking with Alice, Violet, and Thomas as he ogled girls in skimpy costumes. The rest, it seemed, were out getting drinks or dancing. That was okay for the most part, though she wondered if she should wait for Vince to come back.
“I don’t think you’ll get a point where everyone is present,” Alex said, answering her unspoken thought. “This seems like almost everyone who would care. Might be good to strike while the opportunity is here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Mary said. She stepped the rest of the way into the section, moving to the middle of it, and then addressed her friends. “Everyone, could you come in close for a minute? There’s something I need to talk to you all about.”
Curious glances were exchanged, but the request was complied with as people wandered to within arm’s reach of Mary, who was taking measured breaths to stay calm. She wasn’t scared of speaking to a group, not after having been captain of a team for a year, but the proposition of what lay before her still conjured a minor aura of nerves. It didn’t help that the constant, dull thrum of music pounded against her head, reminding her of the days when she couldn’t shut the voices out. Mary pushed those thoughts away as she pushed away the fear and worry. This was not the time for getting caught up in her head. This was the time to deliver.
“I ran into someone a few minutes ago. Someone we all know, or, at least, used to know. Nick is here. Nick Campbell. He came back to Lander as a regular student after the expulsion, and he’s at this club tonight. His memories are still wiped and all, I just . . . I thought you all should know that he was here. I talked with him for a bit. He’s a little different—losing two years will do that—but he’s still the same guy he always was underneath. If anyone wants to meet him, I’m going to go visit with him some more in a bit.”
“Mary, you know the danger in what you’re doing,” Chad cautioned. “Those who leave the program often hold bitterness toward the ones that stayed. Outing former friends isn’t unheard of.”
“I know, Chad. That’s why I came here to tell you all like this, rather than bringing him over. Anyone who wants to take that risk can come with me, but I don’t think anyone will look down on someone for being cautious.”
“Count me in,” Angela declared.
“You barely ever spoke to Nick,” Chad reminded her.
“So what? Still seems like it might be fun. I’m always up for fun.”
“Then I suppose I should come as well, and see this fun for myself,” Chad said.
“I’ll go talk with him too,” Roy said. “To be honest, I always figured it was only a matter of time before he pulled something like this. Nick loves stirring shit too much to go out quietly.”
“I’ll go see him,” Alice said, her simple words belying the storm of emotions inside her. She didn’t like lying to her friends, didn’t care for pretending to know less about Nicholas than she did. That was why she’d kept her response so simple. It was one of the ways Professor Pendleton taught to mentally trick themselves: if everything you said was true, then you weren’t lying. All she did was agree to go talk to him, nothing untrue was uttered.
“I will sit this one out,” Thomas told the group. He looked at the ground, not wanting to see any reaction in their eyes. “While Nick and I were friends, we were not tremendously close. I don’t begrudge him a new life here at Lander; however, I have too much on my own plate at the moment to add another risk. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to feel bad about,” Violet said, softly placing a hand on his wide, muscular shoulder. “That’s a smart decision. So smart, in fact, that I’m copying it and staying put with you.”
“As am I,” Will added. “Give Nick my best, but I’m afraid it seems unnecessarily dangerous to interact with him anymore.”
“Makes sense,” Alex agreed. “But I’m going to say hi. If his memories are sealed, it isn’t that dangerous. And I kind of miss that wild-minded jerk.”
“That’s everyone here then,” Mary said, noting each person’s decision. “Would one of the people staying tell Vince and Camille when they come back from dancing?”
“I’ll do it,” Thomas volunteered. “I believe I can explain it to Vince in the easiest way possible.”
“I don’t doubt that. Okay then, everyone else ready to go say hello to an old friend?” Mary asked.
“Sure, let’s get this show on the road,” Angela said, hopping out of her seat in a motion that might have left her chest exposed if she were wearing a more modern bra with less coverage. “We have to knock out the big reveal before the inevitable bar fight.”
“Bar fight?” Alice asked.
“Yeah, Chad filled me in about you hooligans and your Halloween havoc. Two throw-downs in two years? Seems to me, we’ve got decent odds of a threepeat.”
“For everyone’s sake, I dearly hope you’re wrong,” Mary said. Inwardly, she reminded herself to do another mental sweep when walking everyone over to Nicholas. If their bad luck was going to strike again, Nathaniel Evers seemed a likely agent for it to use. She began walking toward the stairs, indicating that the others should follow.
“I just don’t understand you guys; fate goes out of its way to give you a battle-rich tradition, and you try to avoid it. Kids today, no appreciation for the finer things in life.” Angela still followed Mary, despite the grumbling.
“If we can get through this night without a punch being thrown, I’ll consider it a rousing success,” Alice said, heading to the stairs.
“Now, I wouldn’t go that far,” Roy said, following as well. “I mean, I’m not saying I want a full-out brawl, but it is still a party after all. A little scrapping would liven things up.”
Angela turned to Chad, and jerked her thumb in Roy’s direction. “New plan: when I’m not around, follow his lead. I like the instincts on this one.”
Chad merely shook his head and continued walking, wondering if perhaps his plan to liven up his life hadn’t succeeded a bit more than he’d intended.
88.
Vince and Camille’s attempt at dancing was unsurprisingly awkward. Despite both being in peak physical condition, neither was entirely gifted when it came to holding a beat. This says nothing of the overall discomfort they felt at the proximity most other dancers had to their partners; people who were dancing so close it was often hard to distinguish them as separate entities. Modesty and nerves compelled them to maintain at least some distance between their bodies, crush of the crowd be damned. After about two songs, Camille made a motion for Vince to leave the dance floor, and he happily obliged.
He followed her, only a bit curious to see she was going off in the direction opposite of the seating area where they’d left their friends. A few minutes’ walk from the dance floor, Camille located an open two-top table with chairs that were so tall it took her a bit of effort to climb into one. Vince slid into his own easily, his own height being adequate, if not considerable.
“Already tired?” Vince asked. It was easier to talk here, away from the booming sound of the dance floor. He was impressed by the acoustics of the club: as loud as the music was for the dancers, it immediately died off to background noise when one entered the main club area.
“Not tired, just not having that much fun,” Camille replied. “Sorry about that. Sometimes, I try to push myself into new things, just to get out of my comfort zone. I shouldn’t have dragged you along.”
“I’m glad you did. I can be a little stuck in my ways too. It’s good to shake things up. But I don’t think I want to do that kind of dancing.” Vince gestured vaguely in the direction of the floor they’d left, not really pointing at any couple in particular. He didn’t need to get specific to convey the message.
“That was . . . a bit much,” Camille agreed. “I might like to try a different kind, though. The two-stepping wasn’t nearly as bad.”
“Think they’ll play any country?”
Camille glanced around at the steel, mirrors, and upscale décor. “I’d guess probably not.”
“Should we go back to the seating area, then?”
“We could, or we could just sit and see if they play something else. There is a spectrum of music between country and . . . whatever this is,” Camille said. She was thankful for the excessive makeup her costume had demanded; it hid the worst of the blush she could feel burning in her cheeks. She’d come so far with Vince, but every now and then, the simplest things could set her off. Then again, lying in wait, hoping for a slow song wasn’t really all that simple, if she were honest with herself.
“I like that idea,” Vince said, flashing Camille a grin that threatened to spread the blushing to her ears. “It’ll be nice to sit and chat. I feel like I see less of you and Alex since the team . . . since last year.”
“We work together,” Camille reminded him.
“Yeah, but our schedules are so different, we rarely get the same shifts. Besides, we both stay busy, so it’s not like we get a lot of time to hang out.”
That was true. Supper with Supers was a far more successful restaurant than any of the young students had realized. It had never made it onto their radar, but for many families, it was a delightful place to bring their children. It had even drawn some people Vince and Camille’s own age, young men and women still captivated by all things related to Heroes. Had things gone differently, they might have been among that group, but being in the HCP had taken some of the shine off the caped apple. They were being taught every day how Heroes were weighed down with far more than whimsical catchphrases and primary colors.
“How do you like the waiting job, anyway?”
“It’s pretty fun,” Vince said. “Compared to our normal schedule, it’s low-stress. Plus, I get to meet a lot of really nice people. The posing for pictures thing took some getting used to, though, I’ll admit that.”
“That’s only families with children, right?”
“Mostly,” Vince confirmed. “I guess the kids see a guy in a cape, even if he’s just a waiter playing pretend, and want to take their picture with him. I see the appeal, though. If I’d gone to a place like ours when I was young, I’m sure I’d have gotten a picture too.”
Camille nodded and gave him a small smile. She’d seen the children asking to take their picture with Vince, and it wasn’t just because he was a waiter in a cape. Vince treated them with even more patience and kindness than he showed most people, which was saying something. He didn’t seem to realize it, but the other waiters were asked to pose far less often than him. Deep down, she suspected they could see what she already knew: their waiter was an authentic Hero. He just didn’t have the certification yet. That thought filled her with a heartwarming glow.