Superhero Effects

5. THIS MEANS WAR

The ride home was quiet; Lewis didn't even turn on the radio, so all that filled the air was the sound of the truck's engine.

I didn't get what the big deal was (probably because I had never been in his shoes). He and Teri had broken up three times in the past year, and they just kept getting back together. They were bound to get back together, but every time, he got moody and quiet.

I asked him once why the back-and-forth relationship. If it was bad enough to break up three times, why keep strapping in for the same rollercoaster, especially when you knew how the ride ended? He had only sighed and said, "You wouldn't understand, T." And he was entirely correct; I wouldn't—didn't get it. I didn't get the lovey-dovey feelings at all. "One day, you will, Tristan," my mom told me once. "One day, you'll get it all." But I was perfectly fine waiting a while before that day came.

I had written some touching moments between Lucy and Cole, my main heroes—or so Peggy had gushed to me, but, honestly, I didn't know how I had gotten the scenes so perfect. Maybe it was from seeing my parents together before his death and Teri and Lewis on their good days?

"You better put some ice on that head," he said quietly after parking in the garage. "I don't think Mom would like to know why you have the second knot."

"But I was just trying to find—" Lewis hopped out of the truck, closing the door on my explanation without a backward glance.

I sat there, watching as he entered through the garage door and slammed it closed behind him. "Great. Just great."
***
The first thing I did, after doing as Lewis suggested, and getting a pack of frozen peas from my forehead, was check my email. The one I was expecting was at the top of the list. It was from Meg Amerce, my agent. She was assertive and upbeat, but I could pick up on the underlying annoyance; she wanted an update on the third book. The book that barely had one page written.
With a gusty exhale, I opened the document again and stared for ten minutes at the cursor blink. "Come on, Jesus," I muttered. "What is she going to do to get out of this jam? Tell me so I can write it. Please. Please, and thank you."

The feeling of someone watching me suddenly settled over me. I minimized Lucinda's dilemma and turned to face the expanse of my room with narrowed eyes. Everything looked just like it did when I shuffled in, yet I felt it. Goosebumps erupted up and down my arms as my eyes scanned the usual setting; I saw nothing, not even a distorted girl.

I put the computer in hibernation mode, picked up my backpack, and left the room, and the eerie sensation of being watched vanished—which made it creepier.

The door shut gently behind me, and I turned to stare at it, narrowing my eyes at the white panel material.

Twenty minutes later, I was settled down in the kitchen at the island with several textbooks scattered on it with my mind not even one subject. My mom breezed in, carrying her everyday clean scent, kissing the side of my head as she passed.

She opened the fridge door and peered at me from over the top. "That's a lot of subjects to be working on at one time?" Her eyes moved to my head. She was still wearing her white lab coat; it was over a dark blue button-up shirt and dark gray skirt. "Your head looks better."

"Feels better," I commented offhandedly, pretending to read a page out of the English textbook currently in front of me.

She pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and bumped the door closed with her hip. "I've ordered some mushroom quesadillas for you and Lewis tonight. Ms. Barnes will come over tonight until you two fall asleep; Dr. Bell is sick, so I volunteered to take his Call tonight."

"Mrs. Barnes?" I repeated. "Mom, we're teenagers. We don't need a babysitter."

"She isn't a babysitter," she objected indigently. "She's a helper-outer, and she was so upset that she didn't get to come over yesterday. She's been looking after you two since you were babies, Tristan; she loves seeing you." She came up beside me and kissed my forehead once more. "I'll be back before you wake in the morning."