Just then, there was a knock on the door, and everyone’s attention shifted from James to Derek as he walked into the house to a regale of greetings. He managed to hand James a card before being surrounded and pelted with compliments. James was all but forgotten.
“I hope you haven’t been working too hard,” Grandma said as she gave him a hug.
“Saw you saving your brother on the news,” Grandpa said, playfully elbowing him before pulling him into an embrace.
“The Supers should consider working with PETA going forward,” Cousin Eric said. Seriously, who invited this guy?
Dinner was served, and James found himself pushed to the edge of the table, next to Uncle Matt’s youngest son, a three-year-old who kept throwing chips at James’s head and laughing hysterically. Every eye was glued on Derek, every voice dripping with admiration.
“So what was the business a few weeks ago with Remy Trust?” Uncle Matt said.
“Oh, man,” Derek said, smiling as he bit into his burger. “That was crazy. Probably the most well-known person we’ve ever had to apprehend, as far as I know. Lychnus was furious at the amount of press coverage.”
He launched into the story James already knew, about how Remy Trust, a big banker with multiple buildings named after him, started running a massive drug network in the U.S. The FBI had been investigating him for years, but when they discovered he had a Person with Powers (PWP) working for him, they had to get the Supers involved. Having powers was extraordinarily rare—there were only eleven Supers in the world. A PWP was someone who developed powers but didn’t join the Supers organization. James had heard of only three in his life. If they weren’t trained by the Supers and obliged by oath to fight for good, they could be extremely dangerous. As it turned out, this particular one was extremely dangerous. And Derek fought him.
“You know, I’ve sparred with the others and it can get heated, especially with someone like Toni, but this was different,” Derek said. By now the plates were empty and everyone’s attention was solely on him. They were a great audience, nodding along and providing oohs and aahs when necessary. “This guy was fighting to kill, and he was full of pure, uncontrolled power. Sparks were flying everywhere. The pavement under my feet started melting. It was chaos.”
“So how did you win?” Aunt Becky asked quietly.
Derek shrugged, the perfect picture of modesty. James felt their admiration grow to sickening levels. “It was luck, mostly. I caught him flat-footed, buried him under a pile of ice so he couldn’t move. I had to hold him there until Calico showed up and helped me. And let me tell you”—he laughed, and it was as if the whole room held its breath—“he was not happy that I took him on single-handed.”
Everyone leaned back, grinning and laughing.
“Wow,” Grandpa said, shaking his head with disbelief.
“We’re so proud of him,” their mom said, smiling at Derek.
Well, I got an A on a math quiz, James almost said but bit his tongue.
The cake was served without any acknowledgment or singing. It seemed they had forgotten it was James’s birthday party, not Derek’s thanks-for-being-awesome party. Not that James minded. It meant less awkward and stilted conversation with people he saw once a year and who were all much older than him.
He grabbed his cake and slipped out the back door, unnoticed, and took a seat on the porch. A light breeze tickled his face as he leaned back and watched the sun make its final stand of the night—a defeated warrior beating a slow retreat, just barely holding off the darkness. Squirrels scampered up the trees and birds chirped restlessly. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the roar of a lawnmower as a neighbor rushed to finish this final chore in the last vestige of light. A peaceful ending to a day in suburbia. Laughter floated out from the house, and James sighed.
The screen door slid open behind him. “Can I join you?” Derek asked.
James toyed with his cake. “You don’t want to leave your audience waiting.”
Derek pulled over a plastic deck chair and sat, taking a bite from his own cake. “You know I hate retelling all those old stories every time we have family over.”
“Oh yeah, it must be horrible,” James said.
Derek put his fork down. “What’s wrong, man?”
“Nothing.”
“C’mon.”
James sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching a squirrel as it grabbed a bundle of sticks and scampered up a tree. “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you never became a Super?”
“Why would I?”
James glanced at his brother, unsure if he was joking.
Derek shrugged. “There’s no point in wondering about what we can’t change, right?”
“Easy for you.”
“What’s that mean?”
James studied his hands, unsure why he was feeling this way. “If I played football like Rocky, would you fight everyone that tackled me?”
Derek barked laughter. “What?”
“I’m serious. Or if I went skydiving, would you be there making sure the chute is pulled?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe you don’t always have to save me!” James said, louder than he intended. He glanced inside and was surprised everyone hadn’t pressed their faces against the glass, waiting for Derek to return.
Derek was silent for a moment. “I mean... I’m not going to not save you when you’re in danger, especially since it’s my fault.”
“I know,” James said. “It’s just... I don’t know. I wish I was capable of protecting myself. I feel useless. And then
