Totally Not My Problem | Chase Davenport

Chapter Three

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Not My Problem | Chapter Three | "We Don't Talk About Our Bionics"

  I couldn't believe my ears. Bionic teenagers, hidden in my Uncle's basement? It sounded like the start of a bad sci-fi movie, but I was huddled behind the cyber desk, eavesdropping on their conversation. Adam, Bree, and Chase – claiming to be bionic, whatever that meant. And to top it off, my Aunt's new husband, the man I was supposed to call family, had been harboring this secret. My mind raced with questions. Did Aunt and Leo know about this? How could they keep such a mind-boggling secret from me? Was my own family in on this covert operation? But rational thoughts crept in, reminding me it couldn't be real. There was no substantial evidence that these teens possessed any extraordinary abilities. I mean, bionic? Really?
  Fear tried to grip me, whispering the consequences of meddling in affairs far beyond my understanding. Yet, fear didn't stand a chance against my determination. Action was the only way out. I was Artemis, Strike's daughter and sidekick, after all. Prepared to take matters into my own hands, and by my hands, I meant my fists. Who needed a license to fight? Not me. Doing the right thing wouldn't cost me anything I hadn't already given up. The right thing, in this case, meant exposing these alleged bionic teenagers to the Super Society.
   Chase's voice sliced through my thoughts as he summoned "Eddy," the sassy household computer system. 
  The screen flickered to life, displaying the snarky four-lettered entity, perfectly reflecting the chaos surrounding me. This was my chance, the opportune moment to expose their secrets and end their clandestine games.
  Eddy's digital eyes narrowed mockingly. "Well, well, if it isn't the bionic wonders. What can I do for you today besides reminding you of your inadequacy?"
 Bree smirks, her retort quick and cutting. "At least I don't need a software update to have a personality. " 
  Chase, ever the mediator, attempted to bring the conversation back on track. "Hey, Eddy, just let us know when Blaire's in her room. We're on a snack mission. Adam's getting seriously hangry."
  Eddy, true to form, crushes their dessert dreams with a single sentence. "Sorry, can't do that. Little Miss Hiding-Behind-The-Desk is already here, ruining your escape plan,  greasy head and all." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Greasy head? Seriously Eddy?
 Their heads turned in unison, confirming Eddy's words. I cringe at his words, feeling like I've been caught red-handed, even though I'm not the one with secrets here. My mind races, trying to process the situation. Bionic siblings, a snarky computer system, and me caught in the middle of it all. What a way to spend an afternoon.
  Slowly, I emerged from my hiding spot, meeting their astonished gazes with defiance burning in my eyes. "Well, congratulations, you caught me. Care to explain why you're hiding in my uncle's basement? And what's the deal with all this bionics nonsense?" My tone is sharp. 
  Adam, Bree, and Chase exchange glances, their expressions a mix of uncertainty and defiance. I can tell they're not used to being questioned, especially by someone my age. But I won't back down. I'm Artemis, after all, and I've faced more formidable challenges than bionic teenagers. "Let's hear it," I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm all ears."

Flashback - One Week Ago:

  The Lab was alive with the usual energy, everyone doing their business as usual. Donald Davenport and Tasha stood at the center, ready to drop a bombshell on the unsuspecting household.
 "I hope you're all sitting down," Donald said, his voice carrying a mix of seriousness and excitement. "Tasha's niece, Blaire, will stay with us from now on. She's family, and it's our responsibility to make her feel at home."
  "Another girl?" Bree, never one to shy away from speaking her mind, couldn't help but inject her enthusiasm into the room. "Finally, some estrogen in this sausage fest! Maybe now I won't be the only voice of reason here."
   A chorus of more questions erupted, but before anyone could voice them, Tasha raised her hand, quieting the inquiries. "Before you ask, no, you can't tell her about your bionics. Not until Donald and I think it's the right time. Things will change around here, too. No more messy habits," she pointed at Adam and Leo, who sheepishly raised their hands, "and no
more video games in your underwear,  Adam."
 Adam, who was halfway into a bag of chips, looked offended. "Aw, but that's the best way to play!"
  Tasha shot him sternly, and Adam, realizing he was fighting a losing battle, put his hands up in surrender.
  Mr. Davenport's eyes scanned the room, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "I know you have questions, but trust me on this. There are reasons for our decisions, reasons I can't explain right now. Just trust that I have everyone's best interests at heart. Don't talk about your bionics." The room fell into a thoughtful silence, the weight of Mr. Davenport's words hanging in the air. Despite their curiosity, the siblings knew better than to question their guardian's judgment. If he said trust him, then trust him they would, even if the reasons remained a mystery.