“You didn’t make it easy,” Derek said, turning toward the abandoned town hall. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Derek launched himself into the air, flying up to the window James had fallen from. He heard shouts, followed by the loud chatter of the assault rifles, but Derek merely raised his hand, stopping the bullets in midair. James couldn’t see the rest of what happened, but he knew the Bolt would make short work of wannabe criminals like those. Less than ten minutes later, his kidnappers were corralled in the street below, sporting bruises and bloody noses as the newly arrived police handcuffed them.
An ambulance arrived and the paramedics tried to examine James, but he waved them off. He was banged up and bruised, but nothing life-threatening, he assured them. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten beaten up, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.
“You good?” Derek said, detaching himself from the police who were questioning him with admiration clear on their faces.
“Never better,” James said, examining the angry red skin where his arm had slid across the pavement. “Not really a challenge that time, huh?”
“No, sadly,” Derek said. “Though throwing yourself off the building was pretty stupid.”
James shrugged. “I wanted to make things interesting. Besides, you always catch me, right? So are we flying out of here or what?”
Derek smiled and pointed behind James. “Even better.”
James turned and saw an old, beat-up Chevy bouncing down the road toward them. He just had time to groan before the car screeched to a halt and the door flew open.
“Derek Bolt!” Katie McLain yelled. Her blonde hair bounced behind her as she stomped toward them, her face flushed. Katie was Derek’s assistant, of sorts. Each Super had at least one assistant, though James thought Katie spent more time chasing after and admonishing Derek than assisting him.
“Why do you keep flying off like that?” Katie demanded, stopping short in front of them, her arms crossed. “You know I can’t keep up!”
“Sometimes I have to get somewhere quickly,” Derek said, crossing his arms as well, though his voice was good-natured. “Like to, y’know, save my brother.”
Katie turned to James, as if noticing him for the first time, and her face softened. “Are you okay, James?” she said, her voice switching from angry to worried fast enough to cause whiplash.
“Yes, of course,” James said, annoyed. She always did that, treated him like a child even though he was only a year younger than her. Sure, next to Derek, he might seem weak and incapable, but it wasn’t like she had any powers. She was a Normal, just like him. She just happened to work for the Supers. What she actually did, James wasn’t sure.
“Well, anyways,” Katie said, turning back to Derek, her voice still hard even though some of the anger seemed to have dissipated. “Your mom was worried sick when I left the house, and she was in the middle of her preparations for the party. Of all days! Let’s get you both back.”
James groaned again. In the excitement of the day, he’d completely forgotten about the party. His birthday party. He’d turn sixteen in just a few days, which for some reason was a huge accomplishment that deserved an equally huge celebration. He didn’t feel like he’d accomplished much besides surviving sixteen years. But, he reflected as they drove off, leaving the police to deal with his kidnappers, maybe surviving sixteen years was an accomplishment.
At least for the brother of a Super.
Chapter 2
James lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sun was orange through his shades, casting ladders of light on the wall of his otherwise unlit room. His abandoned laptop sat open on his desk, a half-finished essay for his art history class on the screen. There was no way he could focus on the paper at the moment; there was far too much on his mind. He thought of Derek, who had flown off to the Super headquarters to report on the incident, promising he’d return soon. James imagined him there, telling Lychnus and Calico, the brother Supers who founded the organization decades ago, about how he’d saved his brother yet again.
But mostly, he thought about his upcoming party. His entire extended family was invited, and since they all inexplicably lived within fifty miles of each other, many of them would actually show up. And when the doorbell first rang, James felt like it signaled his incoming doom with each friendly chime. He knew he couldn’t hide under the guise of doing homework any longer. The time had come.
He emerged from his room and descended the stairs to a loud greeting of “happy birthday!” and hugs from his grandparents. From there, the dam was open, and James was forced to stand at the door, smiling and hugging everyone as they came through—aunts, uncles, cousins, and their spouses. A thirty-year-old man he swore he’d never seen before gave James an enthusiastic hug. Upon quietly asking his mom, he discovered it was Cousin Eric.
As Cousin Eric and company got settled and fell into riveting adult conversation—“How was traffic?” “How are the kids?” “I just can’t believe this weather!”—James stood awkwardly in the kitchen, watching, hoping they wouldn’t turn on him with the usual barrage of questions. With nothing else to do, he helped his mom set up for dinner, carrying plates to the table as she flipped burgers on the grill in the back.
James was pouring chips into a bowl when the party’s attention finally turned to him. Groaning on the inside, he turned and smiled.
“I just can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten,” Grandma said even though he hadn’t grown in at least two years.
“Have you started applying to colleges yet?” Uncle Tom asked.
No, James said, but he was certainly looking forward to it.
“I started applying when I was a sophomore,” Cousin Eric quipped. Who was this guy?
As always, the questions
