Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(17)

Bells tries not to flinch and gives Harris a watery smile.

Harris withdraws his hand and then steeples his fingers on the desk. “Shapeshifting is such a unique power,” he says. His normally stern voice is laced with sugary flattery. “Usually I find people with meta-abilities, over time, will develop other aspects within that ability, or perhaps even uncover powers lurking just beneath the surface: unexpressed genes, inherited powers from distant relatives waiting to be discovered.”

There’s a file open on the desk. Barry’s file. Every bit of it is a lie.

Bells swallows the lump at the back of his throat.

“You have a deceased uncle who could shapeshift? And I see here a great-great-aunt who could as well?”

“Yes,” Bells says.

“Powerstorm, for example, started out with just the ability to fly, but by the end of our sessions she could exert superstrength as well: inherited powers that she didn’t know she had, you know.” Harris’ eyes gleam.

“No, thank you,” Bells says, standing up.

Harris’ eyes follow him as Bells steps backward, toward the door. “Of course,” he demurs. “It is your choice. Remember that this door is always open to you.”

Bells nods, ducks out of the office, and shuts the door behind him. He doesn’t run out of the building, but he doesn’t look back, either.

*

The first day of school is always a chaos of familiar faces and new schedules and classes. Bells fidgets with the zipper of his leather-look jacket, readjusts his hair, and leans against the wall as he waits for Emma so they can walk to AP Biology together.

“Hey, Bells! Looking good!”

“Cool jacket, Bells!”

“Love the green hair, dude!”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Bells says, smiling. “Am I gonna see you in yearbook this year?” Jimmy is a sophomore who came out as trans last year. Nice kid, great at photography.

“Definitely!” Jimmy beams at him, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “See you later!”

Two girls walk past, whispering to one another. “Hi, Bells,” one says, nudging her friend.

“Hey. Daisy, right?” Bells guesses. He thinks she’s on the volleyball team; she looks familiar.

“Oh! Yes. Hi,” Daisy exhales; two spots of pink appear high on her cheeks. She giggles, grabs her friend by the elbow, and darts off. She’s not even a few feet away when Bells hears her saying to her friend, “He is so cool!”

“And cute! I can’t believe he knows who you are!”

Bells chuckles. He knows people know him at school, but it’s what he lets them know: the Bells who’s always ready with a comeback to teachers, who always has a joke ready, who can ease in and out of clubs and cliques like nothing; the guy with the cool hair and cool clothes—that Bells is the one most people see. He’s friendly with a lot of people, but no one knows him the way Emma and Jess do.

Emma appears around the corner, the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes crinkle when she sees Bells. “Hey,” she says, linking her arm in his. “Ready for class?”

“Now I am,” Bells says.

They get assigned lab partners in AP Biology according to last name, and Bells makes a face at Emma as they shuffle to their new seats. She gets paired up with a senior Bells doesn’t know, points at him, and winks at Bells.

Bells rolls his eyes and holds up eight fingers at her. The super-swooped hairstyle isn’t doing it for him, but the guy is pretty cute.

Biology passes quickly, and then it’s time for history, which drags on and on. Who starts with an actual lesson on the first day?

Bells ignores the lecture and sketches instead. Moving quickly, the graphite of the pencil smudges as he guides it across the paper. He captures every whorl of Emma’s hair and the tilt of her head as she rests her chin in her hands while intently watching Thalhofer explain the history of the Western regions, including the settling of Andover. Forgetting the lesson, forgetting himself, he commits Emma’s likeness to paper.

“Mr. Broussard?”

“Huh?” Bells sets down his pencil, but it’s too late to hide the sketchbook. Thalhofer, already at his desk, is glaring at him.

“If you have enough time to draw your girlfriend, I’m sure you already know why the settlers chose to name our town Andover.”

“Um… old rich white dude decided to name this new town after his favorite place on the East Coast?”

“Detention, Mr. Broussard,” Thalhofer says, his mouth a thin line.

“He’s not wrong,” Emma says, raising her hand. “Why are you sending Bells to detention?”

“For disrupting the class, as you are, Ms. Robledo,” Thalhofer says. “You can join him in detention this afternoon.”

Other teachers make detention interesting. Rhinehart’s students do service projects around the school, and Gaine’s detention students turn the compost in the school garden. Thalhofer’s detention is uninspired. Everyone is just supposed to sit quietly and do their homework.

Emma sidles up next to him. “Girlfriend, huh?”

“I, uh, it’s just Bellevue in her new supersuit,” he says, hoping the attractive hero will be a good cover.

He can’t… Emma can’t see this. This particular book is filled with sketches of Emma: Emma, at volleyball practice, hair flying as she jumps up to hit a ball; Emma, biting her lip in concentration as she studies; Emma, deep in conversation with Jess; Emma, asleep in class.