Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(46)
“Fabric and thread manipulation is totally cool,” Bells says. He wants to tell her about Jess, but stops himself. “I mean, just because it’s not flying or whatever.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be saving anyone from a burning building, even if I was A-class, which I’m not.”
Christine goes over the invitation list and suggests he take the form of Steven, whose power involves making one specific pink spot appear whenever he wants. It’s a power Bells can imitate, and as long as no one investigates too closely, he’ll be fine.
Bells eats way too much food and loses at several games of pool tag and eats more and talks and laughs and feels relaxed in a way he hasn’t for a long time.
There are moments when thinks, oh, Jess would love this conversation about action movies, or when he thinks Emma would love to make fun of Sasha’s cheesy jokes, and even Abby would get a kick out of how Christine’s MonRobots are programmed to sing songs as they clean.
He takes a deep breath. It’s not as if they’re missing him.
*
Bells doesn’t realize how different things are with Emma until he’s standing in the hallway at school, disoriented. He’s on his way to AP Biology, but Emma always meets him at this corner, and they walk together. Hands in his pockets, he waits, nodding at kids passing by.
Oh hey, that’s the transfer student from Ottawa with the dimples that Emma was sighing over just a few months ago. Bells winks at him, and the boy blushes. Bells waits for butterflies in his stomach, a swooping sensation, anything, even the simple pleasure of hey, someone likes me, but it doesn’t come. He checks the time; he considers sending Emma a message, but maybe she has a class meeting or something. He pushes himself off the wall and idles his way toward class.
At the end of the hallway he can see Emma’s familiar brown curls; she’s hand-in-hand with Carlos, who, Bells has to admit, is really gorgeous. He’s got a square jaw and an earnest expression and looks absolutely entranced by whatever Emma’s saying. They’re taking the usual route—Bells’ and Emma’s route—to get to the science wing.
Bells scowls. He turns around and strides to the other end of the hallway. This route will take him around the whole school, but he’s fast. He can make it.
He gets waylaid a lot with hellos and heys, but he tries to be quick. The warning bell rings, and he picks up his pace, then nearly bumps into a couple making out on the corner.
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbles, stepping around them.
“Oh! Hi, Bells!” Jess beams at him. “Uh, don’t you have bio right now?”
Abby lifts an eyebrow. “It’s all the way over—”
“I know, I know,” Bells says, flustered.
He barely makes it to class on time, but not without noticing just how many couples there are.
Emma isn’t at lunch, either. She made such a big deal in the group chat yesterday about introducing Carlos today, but she’s not even here. Bells looks around the courtyard and sees Emma at a table with Carlos and his senior friends.
Bells pokes at his potato; Jess and Abby are wrapped up in conversation, looking at a blueprint on Abby’s holo. It’s something about robots, or plans for modifications to Jess’ MonRobot, or Abby’s MonRobot. They keep giggling and looking at each other, and then Abby tucks a strand of Jess’ hair behind her ear. A jealous pang runs through him.
He attends the rest of the day’s classes in a dull haze; his only respite is messaging Christine, who responds to his pictures of cats with pictures of sheep—in sweaters. They go back and forth with the weird pictures all day, and he feels a little better.
From Emma: 2:44pm
sorry about lunch!!! he wanted me to meet his friends hehe
To Emma: 2:44pm
NO WORRIES, HE SOUNDS SUPER NICE. GLAD YOU HAD FUN
From Emma: 2:48pm
see you after school! sidekick squad meeting! training time!
Bells laughs. It was Emma’s idea for Bells to get them on a workout routine similar to the one he had at the training center. The coil of frustration melts away. Emma crushes on people and dates some of them. This will be over in two weeks, tops.
Emma pokes impatiently at her DED. “Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon,” she assures.
Carlos turns up sixteen minutes after the bell rings, right in the middle of the worst of the school traffic. Kids are crowding onto buses, which are blocking cars. Parents trying to get their kids honk their horns, and kids walk in front of cars, blocking the exits. It’s absolute chaos.
Bells drums his fingers on the side door. Their routine used to be like clockwork: After the last bell rang, he and Jess would sprint to the parking lot and race to Emma’s car.
After Emma got her license, it was as if the whole world opened up to them. Bells and Jess could use their family vehicles, but, since destinations are logged, their parents would know where they went. In Emma’s manual car they could go anywhere, do anything. Bells loved the confidence and recklessness with which she drove.
Bells narrows his eyes at Carlos. For someone who just offered to take them all out for ice cream, he’s taking his sweet time walking across the parking lot, even stopping to have a conversation with some of his buddies.
Emma gets out of the car and runs toward her boyfriend. She exudes so much joy, she seems to float, and the sunlight makes her brown skin glow. Bells sighs.