“You can’t take away his powers, that defeats the whole ‘superhero’ aspect.”
“Then it’s not a fair fight. Superman is only a hero because he’s from another planet and has powers. He doesn’t bravely fight against crime. He just does what his body allows him to do, what his powers allow him to do. Whereas Batman protects people without a single superhuman strength.” I’d heard these points so many times before I could’ve recited them, but I loved to hear Holden make them. The determination behind his arguments could’ve made anyone a believer in his opinion. “He could get hurt, shot, he could die, but that doesn’t stop him. He wasn’t infected with some mutated venom or born on another planet. He wasn’t created in a lab or pumped with chemicals. He’s a normal person. And there’s not a single superhero worth believing in more than Batman.”
“What about you, Jelly?” Matthew turned to me, probably hoping I would weigh in instead of just sit there, listening to their arguments. “If you were in trouble and needed to be rescued, who would you want? Which hero would you call for help…Batman or Superman?”
I looked right at Holden and said, “Batman.”
The entire way to my parents’ house, I couldn’t stop thinking about Holden in his little costume with his cape hanging behind him. It made me curious if he still had the same opinions as he did back then. If he still cared as much, or if he looked back on it and thought it was ridiculous and childish.
I stared at his profile while he drove, mumbling about something I wasn’t paying attention to, and mentally compared him to the memories I had of him. He was no longer the boy who used to apologize for teasing me. Nor was he the sweet teenager who hated to see me cry. But I knew that boy wasn’t lost. He wasn’t gone forever. I’d only lived with him for five days so far, but it was enough to see glimpses of him. I saw it yesterday when he came home, after I questioned him about the delivery. Regret narrowed his eyes. And again last night, after his shower when I reminded him of our agreement. He seemed rather high and mighty until I explained my “relationship” with Connor to him. Then guilt weighted his tone and darkened his aura.
I started to think I was wearing him down. I grew closer to getting him where I wanted him. But then I stopped and wondered if things had changed. Rather than play him the way I was, I wondered if things could be different. I couldn’t help but think about how the next six months would play out if I stopped fighting him and gave in. Mended our broken friendship and found our way back to one another. And again, it made me question if that was truly what I wanted. The money would still be there at the end of this. He’d given me a free place to stay. I didn’t have any real rush, and I found myself more tolerant of the idea of waiting.
When we pulled into my parents’ driveway, he shifted the car into park and turned to look at me. “Did you hear anything I said?”
“Nope.” I dramatically popped the P. “Not a word. So, Cliff, give me your notes. What did I miss?”
He closed his eyes and huffed a chuckle. It was so sexy I nearly missed the condensed version of whatever he said on the ride over. “Just remember, you promised to not bring anything up. Don’t pry. If anything comes up in conversation that you’re confused about, then by all means, ask about it. But don’t throw me under the bus by acting all weird and asking random questions.”
“I still think you’re making all this up. But don’t worry, I won’t ask anything unless it’s warranted.”
“I’m not fabricating anything, Janelle.” His wit quickly evaporated, and his irritation became known when he jammed his finger into the ignition button, swiftly shutting off the car, and forcefully throwing his car door open.
In a panic, I grabbed his forearm and waited until his stormy eyes found mine. “If you’re not making it up, then that means it’s real. It means it’s true. And without anything to go on, my mind resorts to the worst-case scenarios. Meaning…someone in that house is about to die, someone is on dialysis for kidney failure, and there’s a good chance three more have some infectious disease they aren’t aware of. But in reality, you could just mean someone has lice and someone else has a rash—a non-life threatening rash. So I’m not accusing you of making anything up. I’m telling myself you are because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy wondering what’s wrong with who and why no one told me.”
His eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed when he pulled in a deep breath. “Come on. Let’s go inside,” he whispered and climbed from the car.
It only took about thirty seconds to see how much my entire family loved Holden. Not that I had any doubts or couldn’t remember it from before. But now, I almost felt like an outsider, like I was Holden’s dinner guest or something. It was extremely awkward, and I wasn’t sure how to handle myself. Since moving in with Holden, I’d seen my mom once, and my dad briefly at the same time. But that was it. I hadn’t seen my sisters in a year and a half since I didn’t make it home this past Christmas. That was the last time I’d seen Matthew too, but at least I talked to him on the phone from time to time. Now, walking inside behind Holden, watching my sisters greet him with smiles and excitement, made it hurt that much worse when they turned their attention to me and it lacked the same enthusiasm.
What hurt even more was when I headed toward the kitchen for a drink and stopped short of the entryway when I heard Stacey and Rachel talking in low tones, hushed, as if holding a surreptitious conversation. I paused, leaned against the wall, and waited a moment to figure out what they were talking about, hoping to get some kind of insight into these family secrets Holden kept hinting at.
“It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be here, so I don’t know why she is.”
“Just give her a chance, Stacey. We’re a rather intimidating bunch, and walking back into this can’t be easy. I’ll admit, it would’ve been nice if Mom had told us she was coming. Or better yet, it would’ve been nice to know she was coming with Holden. Or living with him. We were a little blindsided, I’ll give you that.”
I held my breath and blinked, willing my tears to stay put.
“She wants something. That’s the only thing that makes sense,” Stacey continued.
“You don’t know that.”
“Why else is she here? I asked Mom if she got a job in town, thinking maybe that was her reason for coming back, and she said as far as she knew, Janelle was still looking for one. Which means she’s not here for work. What other reason would she have to move back?”