Cursed (Cursed Superheroes #1)(3)

She grips me tighter. “Just promise me, okay?”

I nod, starting to get really worried. “Okay. I promise.”

She hugs me a little bit longer before reluctantly pulling away. “Now go have fun.”

The guilt in my stomach consumes me again, but I shove it down, knowing my friends would never let me live it down if I blew off the party tonight.

After I say goodbye to my mom, I get into my BMW and drive down the street to pick up my friends. As I hug the corners, winding around the hills, my thoughts float back to my mom. She looked so upset and had been acting strange this morning too.

“Maybe you should just skip school,” she said as I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. “I could blow off getting my hair done and we could drive to town and do some shopping.”

“Midterms are today so I can’t skip.” I peeled the wrapper off the granola bar and took a bite. “Raincheck, though. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday?

“Tomorrow?” She dazed off, her skin paling. “Tomorrow’s your birthday.”

“I know, but going shopping with you would be a pretty awesome present. For you and for me.” When I smiled at her, she wouldn’t even look at me.

“Maybe.” She muttered something about needing to talk to my dad before hurrying out of the room.

I hadn’t thought too much about it, but after her acting so strange tonight… something is wrong. Maybe me getting another year older is hard on her?

I make a promise to myself to spend tomorrow morning with her before my party.

I tear myself out of my thoughts as I pull into the driveway of Kara’s two-story, seven thousand and something foot mansion with giant ivory columns lining the oversized, double front doors.

After I park, I honk the horn a few times then send her a text to get her ass out here. In Kara style, she comes waltzing out fifteen minutes later and huffs an aggravated breath as she hops in the passenger seat of my car.

“You’re late,” she says as she flips down the visor to check her makeup. “Steph just texted me, wondering where the hell we are. Now she’s going to be bitchy all night.”

“I’ve been out here for fifteen minutes.” I shift the car into reverse and back out onto the road. “It’s your fault we’re late, dude.”

She flips the visor back up and sits back in the seat. “Remi, I love you to death, but you need to stop calling everyone dude.”

“Okay,” I say. Then smile as I add, “Dude.”

She sighs but whips out her phone from her jacket pocket. “I need to text Jay about something.” She punches a few buttons and moments later, she giggles.

I crank up the radio, knowing that texting Jay about something means the two of them will message back and forth for the rest of the drive. It’s not a big deal. In about five minutes or so Steph will climb into the car and talk my ear off.

Kara, Steph, Jan, and I formed a friendship the first day of kindergarten during arts and crafts time, after we were assigned to the same table. The three of them had already been friends since the day they were born, mainly because their parents were all friends. For some reason, they decided to bring me into their group. And in turn, my parents became friends with all of their parents, which helped my mom shoot up the social status and my father got more connections for his business.

It’s strange, but I can’t even remember the time before I made friends with the three of them. It’s like those six years prior were just a dream I’ve long forgotten. And when I try to force my mind to go back further, all I see is darkness. Empty, cold, depressing darkness.





Chapter 3





After I pick up Steph and Jane, I drive us to the party, which is in full form when we pull up. After everyone does a makeup check, we head inside, walking side by side as we make our way through the crowd.

Okay, so I don’t want to sound cliché or anything, but you know those scenes in the movies where the popular girls walk into a room and everyone turns to stare at them, as if they’ve cast a spell over everyone. The girls seem oblivious to the attention, completely clueless to the power they hold over people. Or maybe they do know and they just don’t give a crap. But they just keep on walking with their chins held high and their arms linked, creating a perfect, unbreakable friendship chain. Okay, friendship chain sounds kind of lame, but you get the picture.

Well, those four girls are my friends and me.

Everywhere we go, every party we attend, people turn to stare. Like tonight. As we walk into Ben Beachmen’s Last Night of Fall party with our arms linked, necks crane in our direction. Guys holler and whistle, our names are shouted, a few girls tell us we look fabulous. We smile from the top of the stairway, the music booming and vibrating beneath our sparkly, pricey heels.

While my friends love the attention, I always feel uncomfortable. Like a plastic doll on display, an imposter, fake, pretending, when really, I don’t really belong.

I’ve often wondered how my life and my family’s became so perfect. Sometimes I pinch myself just to make sure my life isn’t a dream, that fate did give me a seemingly perfect life, both at home and with my friends. It’s not like I tried to become popular. It sort of fell into my lap.

“They’re just jealous,” Kara says to me as she glances at the party goers, who have paused from their drinking, dancing, and jumping into the pool to stare at us. “They want what we have.”