Unsung Hero

heroes.

Prologue

I met Ben when I was seven years old. I was sitting on my front lawn, playing with a doll that was supposed to resemble me. The only resemblance between us was our light brown hair. I was colouring her face with a purple permanent marker when I saw him lift a car over his head with one hand. He told me later he’d been looking for his lucky coin.

His skin was a deep chocolate brown colour, his black springy hair cut short, both standing out in sharp contrast to his starched white t-shirt. He saw me staring at him and froze, his dark eyes wide with sudden fear. I blinked several times, unbelieving. We stayed that way for several moments, until he put the car back down and cautiously came toward me.

Are you gonna tell? he whispered, his eyes very serious on mine.

I shook my head slowly. How’d you do that? I whispered back.

I just can, he replied. He looked up and down the street to see if anyone else was watching. You sure you’re not gonna tell?

I nodded.

My name’s Ben, he said then, sticking out his hand in a surprisingly adult fashion.

Mine’s Lily, I replied, staring at his dark skinned hand before carefully grasping it with my fair skinned one.

He considered me carefully for a moment. Wanna see something? he asked.

Okay.

He grinned, a gleeful mischievous grin, and backed up a couple of steps. Watch this. And then he jumped, higher than the parked car, higher than the house beside us, so high I could barely see him, before he landed on the roof of a house a block away from where I was standing. I ran after him, eyes wide with disbelief, and a small giggle of laughter welling up inside of me. He laughed and jumped again, this time landing in front of me.

I can run real fast too, he boasted.

How fast? I demanded, fascinated.

Real fast, he answered gleefully. C’mon I’ll show you. He took my hand and started to run. My feet felt like they weren’t even touching the ground. The wind whipped past us so fast that everything became a blur. I wondered how we didn’t run into anything, but Ben never faltered, his hand tight around mine. He stopped abruptly, so abruptly I fell forward, my head swimming.

Sorry, he said, helping me up. It’s hard to slow down.

We were in the same place we’d started, except facing the opposite direction. That’s amazing, I whispered, awed. How’d you do that?

I told you, I just can. He shrugged, clearly without explanation.

What do your parents say? I asked.

They don’t know. Nobody knows. Except you. He considered me again, You’re not gonna tell, right?

I shook my head, Promise.

We were best friends from that moment on.

A secret is a powerful thing, and if we didn’t have much in common at first, that secret held us together.

Chapter One

The friendship Ben and I had for each other was completely unconditional. We told each other everything, from our nightmares, to our dreams of the future, to the everyday annoyances that we thought no one else could understand.

I was a frequent visitor at his house, awed by a family dynamic so different from my own. Ben’s house was noisy and loud, warm and joyful, filled with three children and two happily married and tolerant parents. Ben’s mother, Joyce, began setting a seat for me at their table on a regular basis, accepting our inseparable friendship without question.

As we grew older and our schedules began to diverge, I still found myself at Ben’s house, even when he wasn’t home. His sister’s indulged me, asking my advice on life, fashion, boys, or for help with their homework. Once they asked me what it was like to be white, but their mother overheard and shushed them. Joyce taught me how to cook and allowed me the nearest thing to knowing what it was like to have a mother.

For a long time I felt awkward around Ben’s father, Damian. He was a big, gruff man, who spoke little and worked a lot. He was so unlike my own father that I found it hard to understand him. But we found harmony in each other’s silences.

I often slept at Ben’s house as well. We were naïve enough to think his parent’s didn’t know. Ben would lift me onto his back and leap from the cover of the small garden at the side of the house to his second story window, and we would share the double bed that used to seem so large. Neither of us thought of it as anything more than companionship, another secret that bonded us.

But eventually that began to change.

My love for him was a gradual realization. I don’t know when it was that I fully realized my feelings for him. It was constant, the joy of being with him, of being able to help him and be his safe place, the way he had become mine. It was so easy to be with Ben, it was like I had always belonged with him.

It wasn’t until we began high school that other things slowly began to change between Ben and I. Ben was tall, good looking, nice, and good at sports. He quickly became one of the most popular people in the school, despite being a freshman.

By ninth grade, we’d learned a lot about Ben’s abilities, but I don’t think it had ever really occurred to either of us to do anything more with them than enjoy them, and the secretive benefits we got from using them. But that, too, began to change.

The first time it happened, Ben and I were jumping over the flat roof tops of the low budget district. We called it roof jumping. Creative, I know. It was something we often did late at night when Ben felt cooped up. I would ride on his back as he flew through the air, jumping as far and as high as his legs could lift us. There were times I would reach out my arms, trying to catch the stars in my hands.

As we landed, we heard a woman scream for help. A man had stolen her purse. I barely had a moment to understand what was happening before Ben was racing to intercept him.

Fourteen year old Ben, big for his age even then, jumped in front of the grown man’s path unhesitating, with me clinging to his back. The man crashed into him with a grunt, but Ben didn’t even flinch. I remember wondering if he’d even felt the impact. The man had stared at him, eyes wide. He threw down the purse at Ben’s feet, scrambled to his own, and ran away.

He didn’t fight. He never said a word.

He just ran.

It was after that, that the wheels began to turn in Ben’s mind. I saw it, after we returned the woman’s purse, the determined light that came into his eyes. He’d begun to realize something about himself.

That he could do more.

He was pensive in the weeks that followed, and he wanted to go roof jumping more and more often. It quickly became apparent he was after more than the fresh night air. He was looking for something.

He was looking for someone to save.

His opportunity came a few days later. We were walking by a convenience store when a boy came running out, a panicked expression on his face. A tall man in an apron burst out a few seconds later, hot on the boy’s tracks, shouting that he was a thief. Ben wasted no time. He was at my side one second, gone the next, and the boy was apprehended moments later.

They were small victories, but Ben reveled in them. He was making a difference. He was helping people. And it wasn’t long before he became over confident in his abilities. He began to use them more and more, in plain sight, enjoying the thrill of not getting caught cheating the system. He became more outgoing, more reckless.

And one night it caught up to him.

It was one of the few nights I was actually at home in my own room. My ears were trained to the sound of my father’s footsteps roaming the room next door, anxiety clawing at my chest as I prayed for him to remain there, when I heard the sound of someone knocking on my bedroom window. I flinched violently, gasping in fear, before I realized it was Ben.

I hurried silently to the window, opening it so he could enter. Ben fell through the opening, crashing noisily onto the floor. Blood covered his clothes, slashes gouged through the cloth to the tender skin beneath. His breath came in noisy gasps, a panicked expression in his eyes as he whispered to me not to tell his mom.

My father shouted at me from the next room as Ben collapsed in my arms, crushing me with his weight, his sticky blood seeping over my hands.

It was the first of many trips we made to the emergency room, before we began to realize too many questions were being asked. We slowly began to learn how to take care of minor injuries ourselves. I enrolled in self-defense classes that I paid for myself with money from a string of part time jobs, and stole my father’s guns to practice shooting cans in a field not far from our house – something I didn’t tell Ben until much later.

I slowly began learning a lot of things to help Ben in small ways, where I could. It was strange how easily we adapted to leading a double life. On one hand, we were normal high school students. On the other, we fought crime. In a very literal way. And all the while, nothing ever came between us. If Ben was a little more in the center of things, I didn’t mind. I was by his side.

And that was exactly where I always wanted to be.

Chapter Two

I pressed my hands to my eyes, shutting out the words from my textbook and sighed in frustration. English had never been my strongest subject. And quite frankly, my teacher never seemed to put in much effort to make it any better. At length I slid the book closed and set aside the completed questionnaires, one with my own handwriting, the other with a well forged version of Ben’s.

I glanced out the window, vainly hoping to catch sight of his familiar form, but saw nothing. Instead I reluctantly pulled out my math textbook and began to review the last few chapters for our test the next day. I doubted Ben had so much as cracked his own textbook since we’d started the class in September. Midterms would be coming up soon though, and I couldn’t afford bad grades. University was right around the corner, and I needed a scholarship.

The light of my desk lamp reflecting against the shiny pages from my textbooks was beginning to hurt my eyes when I finally heard the sound I’d been waiting for. A soft thump outside. I looked out the window again, this time seeing Ben crouched on the roof beyond my window pane. I hurriedly pressed a folded blanket against the bottom of my bedroom door to muffle the sound before opening the window for Ben to come through.

He smiled, Hey.

I smiled back, You’re late.

Yeah, sorry. He nodded his head toward the blanket, Your old man asleep?

More likely passed out on the couch. Probably.

Come out. He held out a hand, pulling me out to sit beside him. I did so carefully, all too aware of the several times I’d almost fallen. He pulled me close against his side, an arm around my shoulders to ward off the chill.

What happened? I asked.

He made a face, Nothing big.

I rolled my eyes, Just tell me.

Drive by between Reds and Badgers.

What’d you do?

When he hesitated I elbowed him and he sighed, I flipped their car over.

I watched him for a moment, noting the purposeful even breathing, the slight slouch of his shoulders. You got knifed, didn’t you? I demanded. Ben!

He pulled back, No, I’m fine.

You’re such a liar, I accused, reaching for his shirt, Let me see.

Lily, its fine, he insisted, catching my hands. It’ll be healed in a couple of hours.

That’s what you said in tenth grade remember?

Why do you always bring that up?

Why do you always hide these things? I retorted. That’s why you didn’t want to come in. I clucked my tongue in irritation and slid back in through the window. I strode to the bed, pulling a small tool box out from underneath. It was filled with a variety of first aid supplies, some … most… of which I had stolen from the school nurse. Well? I demanded of Ben, who had remained outside, clearly reluctant to enter.

With a frown his large body slid gracefully through the open window. He stripped off his shirt, revealing a heavily muscled torso, and sat down on the side of the bed. A large cut ran along his left side, its edges jagged.

I probed it carefully and he winced, Sorry. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, shrugging quickly. I think we should sew it.

He lifted his arm to try to look at it properly, It’s not that bad.

It’s deep.

How deep?

Deep enough to need stitches.

Seriously?

I’m sorry, I apologized, I know you hate them.

He shook his head, No, you’re right, just… do it.

He lay on his side as I carefully cleaned the wound and then made tiny parallel stitches into his skin. Ben healed very quickly, but we had to be careful too. Once, his wound had closed and then become severely infected to the point where he’d had to be hospitalized for almost a week. None of the doctors could explain how such an infection had developed under skin that didn’t appear to have been injured, and Ben’s mother had been worried sick for days.

When I’d finished I taped a wide piece of gauze over the injury. Just wear it until morning.

He nodded, slipping his shirt back over his head. Thanks.

Don’t worry about it.

And … sorry. When I looked up at him in question he shrugged uncomfortably, I know I shouldn’t hide that stuff.

No, I agreed, a half smile tugging on my lips, You shouldn’t.

C’mon, I’m apologizing here.

I chuffed him lightly on the arm, I forgive you.

He smiled, and I smiled back, pleased to have amused him. He nodded to the pile of papers littering my desk, What’re you working on?

Homework. Heard of it?

He closed his eyes and groaned, English homework. Sorry.

And…?

And?

I chuffed him on the shoulder again, harder this time, Math test! Tomorrow morning! I told you three times!

Right, no, math test, definitely, he agreed, nodding, although we both knew he hadn’t remembered.

Do you even know what chapter we’re on?

Six? he guessed. I shook my head at him and he smiled apologetically. Can I help you study or something? Read through the practice answers?

I shook my head again, No, it’s fine.

You sure? I don’t mind, I’ll help keep you awake.

No, you should sleep. I’m almost finished reviewing anyways, I lied.

He nodded, Well, we’ll do something tomorrow then, after the test is over.

Something like what?

Whatever you want.

Promise?

Cross my heart, he grinned. His eyelids were beginning to droop.

I smiled, Go home.

Okay, okay, he muttered. He stood and walked toward the window, abruptly turning around and coming back towards me. He caught me in a brief hug, his arms warm around me, Thanks Lil.

I hesitantly slid my own arms around him, and I felt my face heat up in his embrace, Anytime.

Too quickly, he pulled away from me, his heavily muscled frame climbing through my window and disappearing into the night.

I looked back at my heavily laden desk, and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning I met Ben at the corner of our street. My eyes felt puffy and sore from my sleepless night, but I forced myself to smile when Ben arrived. He grinned back.

Ready? he asked.

Always.

He slid his backpack around to the front of him so that it rested on his chest and knelt down with his back to me. I clambered onto his back with a practiced ease, holding tightly as he regained his feet.

Hold on, he cautioned. I tightened my hold slightly, bracing myself. And then he leapt into the air, a concussion of thunder without sound. We flew through the open air, passing over houses and buildings far below us. The world whipped past us, the early morning sun glimmering over everything, making it seem shiny and new.

He landed briefly on the angled roof of a two story house before running to its edge to take off again. I felt my eyes begin to tear at the force of the wind, my braided hair trailing behind like the tail of a kite.

We landed about a block from the school behind someone’s tool shed. I slid off Ben’s back and he readjusted his bag to a comfortable position on his back.

You mind if I go ahead? I’ve got to talk to Mike about practice tonight, said Ben.

Yeah, no problem.

He grinned, Cool. See you for the math test. You feeling good about it?

I think we’ll pass.

He squeezed my shoulder, You’ll do great, just relax.

I rolled my eyes, Go. I’ll see you in there.

Ben jogged ahead, quickly disappearing around the corner. I followed more sedately, pulling my math notebook from my bag to review the equations again as I walked. Studying while walking was a talent I’d mastered over the years out of necessity. I steered around obstacles and other students skillfully as I entered the school, my eyes rarely leaving the scratchy handwriting that covered the lined pages.

My chemistry partner, Hector, waved at me as I passed his locker and I smiled back at him absently, focused on my notes. The classroom was already filling up by the time I reached it, noisy with chatter as people greeted each other and shared the night’s events. I slid into my seat and continued reviewing.

Someone’s hands suddenly appeared on my desk and I glanced up to find my friend, Emma looking at me in exasperation. You didn’t show up last night. Her skin was a light brown, her black hair curled into waves around her face. But it was her eyes that stopped you. They were a pretty, surprisingly light blue.

I blinked up at her, Last night?

The movies? Girl’s night? I asked you last week?

I frowned, trying to recall when I’d agreed to it, and failed. Umm… sorry, I guess I forgot.

Shock. You owe me 10 bucks for your ticket.

I’m sorry, I repeated. How was it?

Try amazing, she sighed and gestured at my notes, think you’ll do okay?

I made a face and sighed in turn, Guess we’ll see.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mr. Valentino was pulling the test papers from his brief case. You ever wonder what teachers do on their down time?

Recharge? I joked, my eyes already returning to my notes.

She seemed to tire of my lack of interest. Well, good luck.

You too.

The bell rang, and the class began to settle. Ben walked in a few moments later, claiming the seat in front of mine. He grinned at me encouragingly with a quick squeeze of my hand before Mr. Valentino reached his desk with a crisp white stapled test. The teacher nodded at me as he handed me mine, but I barely saw him. I was too focused on the test. The knowledge I’d memorized in the last few hours was hammering around in my brain, clamoring to be used.

I glanced quickly at the questions, recognizing the similarity to the practice questions from the back of the books, and the separate extra problem sets I’d so painstakingly gone over the night before. I smiled inwardly, pleased with my foresight. I wrote my name at the top of the sheet, and as I began to fill in my answers, I softly whispered what I wrote in a voice low enough for only Ben to hear. Soft as air, little louder than my own breathing, I knew he could hear me.

I murmured which questions were more obscure, the ones he should mess up so we’d avoid the suspicion of having the same grade. It was something we’d learned very quickly was not easily explainable. My own pencil flew quickly over the padded pages, using up none of the scratch sheets Mr. Valentino always provided, certain of my answers, the equations I used.

It took me 33 minutes to finish what should have been, and what I knew would take most of my classmates, a 72 minute test. The thought wasn’t arrogant, merely fact. It was how it was. This was one of the things I could do, when there were so many other things I couldn’t.

I replaced my pencil and calculator into my backpack and softly reminded Ben to stay until the bell rang. It was a practiced performance. He would pretend to continue to work on the test after I’d left, pressing his fingers to his forehead in consternation, and rubbing out parts before rewriting them. He would write formulas all over the scratch paper, acting like the dumb jock so many people thought he was.

I handed my test to Mr. Valentino at the front of the class. He raised an eyebrow at my quick exit. Okay? he asked.

I smiled back, Guess we’ll see.

It was what I always said when he asked me. But we both knew what my reply really meant. He smiled in kind as he gave me a nod of dismissal toward the door. I glanced back at Ben as my hand found the doorknob, and just as I had thought they would be, his eyes were watching. He winked at me, and I felt my chest tighten slightly at the affectionate action.

At that moment, there was no one else in the room. It was just the two of us. Just the way it should be. Until someone cleared their throat, and Dan Hough swore colourfully about how much he hated calculus, causing Mr. Valentino to call out a warning. And still, my gaze remained on Ben’s for another moment longer, still caught in the warm and fuzzy feeling of our shared secret world.

The remainder of the day went by quickly, filled with relief that the shadow of a test was no longer looming over me. Of my four classes, I had two with Ben: calculus in the morning and English at the end of the day. In between, I had advanced chemistry and manufacturing. I wished manufacturing was at the end of the day instead. I too often felt coated in a layer of dirt and grease from working under the hood of a car, and then forced to sit through an hour of English class. Though to be fair, I was hardly the only one. On an especially productive day in manufacturing, English class often smelled strongly of gasoline and motor oil.

In contrast to my heavy schedule, Ben’s day was supplemented with art and gym class. People were often surprised to find Ben in an art room, more so when they realized he was serious about it and not just taking it as a bird class. At least half his clothes had paint stains of all shapes and colours, and more often than not he could tell you exactly what he’d been working on when he’d gotten it.

As in calculus, Ben’s seat was in front of mine for English. When the bell rang, Mr. Docklin was handing out questionnaires to be answered for the following day. I made a face at seeing the list of questions, knowing it would take a large part of my evening to complete. And I had a chemistry lab to write up on top of that.

Ben swiveled in his seat, lifting the paper in front of my face, Want to work on this tonight?

You actually going to show up this time? I joked.

He grinned sheepishly, Seven okay?

Yeah, that’s fine. You have lacrosse tonight? I asked, though I already knew.

Yeah, it goes till six. He screwed up his face, stretching his arms above his head. Let’s do something later. Get out, roof jump or run or something. You into it?

Yeah, I’d love it.

He grinned, and our eyes locked for a moment. I smiled back, feeling my heart flutter again. It was strange how easily he evoked that response from me.

Yo, Caiden, c’mon! someone called from the doorway.

Yeah, Ben replied. He got to his feet, squeezing my shoulder lightly as he passed. I turned my head slightly and watched him go. Two of his lacrosse buddies, Darren and Raj, met him at the door, clapping him hard on the shoulder or trying to punch him in the stomach. He glanced backward, saw me watching, and smiled at me before he disappeared around the corner. I flushed and smiled to myself, happy in a way I couldn’t define.

Emma caught me in the hall before I’d gotten far from the classroom. Can you believe these things? she muttered, waving the questionnaire like a flag. It’s like he’s trying to bury us in homework.

I know, I agreed. You’d think he’d give us enough of a break to get into university instead of just up and killing the dream now.

Emma grinned ruefully at my response. Bex and I are getting together tonight to work on them. We’ll probably get a pizza. You in?

I promised Ben I’d work on it with him after he’s done practice. Next time though.

Yeah, okay. Later.

She split off from me to find her own locker, and no doubt some people more receptive to the idea of a study party. It was one of the things I tended to avoid. I always ended up spending the entire time explaining concepts or teaching others rather than actually getting any of my own work done. And more often than not, I was doing two sets of homework, which took twice as much time. If not longer. It was an incredibly challenging thing to write an answer twice, from a different mindset.

Hector caught me as I was leaving, verifying the solutions from our experiment a few days before. Crap, he muttered pointing to the end of my formula. I think we got this part wrong.

I frowned, trying to see the problem, How?

His brow drew together in concentration as he rewrote the formula on a new sheet of paper, trying to reason out how I’d come to my answer. I blinked, not understanding his use of the equation, before I realized his mistake and pointing to it. That’s should be five, not thirteen.

He blinked, comparing our answers and rolled his eyes, It’s always the simple part. Thanks. He handed my papers back and zipped up his binder. I was going to meet up with Beau to go over some stuff for the test next week. You wanna come?

Who’s Beau? I asked absently, tucking my books into my backpack.

He stared at me in surprise, Beau Reynolds? When I stared at him blankly he laughed. Tall, blonde, transferred in a couple of months ago? Every girl in the school follows him around with a camera?

I laughed at his description. Right.

Hey, it’s a real thing. I saw Tiffany doing it last week.

Tiffany created a petition against note taking because it hurt her wrists, I reminded him.

He grinned, remembering. Oh yeah.

I’ve got an English assignment to do tonight.

He made a face, Mr. D is such a hard ass. So glad I’m not taking that class.

Until next semester.

He shook his head, looking smug. Mrs. Seacord is teaching it.

I smiled, Mrs. Seacord’s going on mat leave starting next month.

He blanched, You’re lying.

Nope, I slung my bag over my shoulder, Guess you’ll be suffering just like the rest of us.

I left Hector with a horrified expression and walked to the bus stop down the street. It was crowded with students boasting and gossiping, girls glancing bashfully toward guys, guys pretending not to notice. I barely paid attention to the noise around me. I skimmed through our English book, Fifth Business, flagging sections that I would use for the questionnaire later on.

By the time I got home my father was already passed out on the couch, empty cans of Budweiser strewn on the floor in front of him, our small T.V. blaring to an unconscious audience. He stirred when I closed the door behind me, groaning roughly.

Get me a beer, he ordered, his voice raspy.

Get it yourself, I muttered in disgust, not bothering to glance in his direction.

What’d you say? he growled, attempting to rise from the couch cushions.

My stomach clenched tightly at the movement, and I stepped backward automatically, putting distance between us. His eyes were red and glassy. Drinking hadn’t been the only thing he’d been doing today. I said get it yourself, I repeated, enunciating each word.

You listen to me, Lily Anne, he began, his voice rising. But I didn’t wait for him to finish. I hurried up the steps to my room, locking the door swiftly with my desk chair under the knob in case he was angry enough to follow me.

Luckily, he wasn’t. He was probably too strung out to make it up the stairs. I pushed him from my thoughts and turned on my computer, settling in to write my chemistry lab before Ben came over.

A little over an hour later I heard the front door slam shut. I knew, even before I looked from my front window, what I would see. My father stumbled unsteadily down the driveway, his skinny frame wrapped in a thick coat. He waved unenergetically to a short, scrawny, older man waiting in a green jeep at the curb. His name was Anton. He worked for my father’s dealer.

I probably wouldn’t see my father again until next week. His benders had become longer and more frequent lately. And I found myself torn between disgust and relief over his absences. Disgust usually won. But it was hardly something new. My father had always been like this. It was better now, in some ways, than it had been when I was younger. But it was something I chose not to think about. I shook my head and returned to my desk, rereading my last paragraph before continuing to type up my lab results.

It was a little after seven thirty by the time I was finished. I held the freshly printed pages with brief satisfaction before I realized what time it was. Ben was late.

I found my phone and texted him a brief message to ask where he was before I made my way to the kitchen, searching for something resembling food. It was a rare commodity in my house. One of the reasons I’d spent so much time at Ben’s house when I was younger. The promise of regular meals. I was on the verge of ordering a pizza when I found a can of mushroom soup in the far corner of the bottom cupboard. I wondered vaguely how long it had been there before I read the directions on the side of the container.

I was almost finished eating by the time I got a text back from Ben.

Something came up. Explain later.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, resigning myself to writing both of our English assignments. It had begun happening far more often lately, my doing his homework to cover for his escapades, and in the back of my mind I began to wonder if I was hurting him more than helping him.

But if I didn’t, he’d fail.

And didn’t there need to be some balance? He was trying to save someone’s life right now. In comparison to that, what was a homework assignment?

So I hunched over my desk, writing my own assignment in clear, well-practiced cursive before attempting Ben’s. I’d had a lot of practice pretending to be Ben on paper, but it was hard not to use the same ideas as I had in my own writing. I found myself rewriting his answers again and again until I was convinced it sounded like him and not me. It was almost midnight by the time I finished. And I was exhausted.

My night without sleep the night before was taking its toll. I was surprised I’d lasted so long. As soon as I put down my pen my eye lids seemed to drag down halfway and stay there. I practically fell into bed, fast asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Chapter 3

I met Ben the next morning at our usual spot. He was carrying his gym bag and lacrosse stick in addition to his school bag. He grinned when he saw me, his handsome face lighting up, and too easily I forgot my irritation at him for not showing up last night.

Hey, he greeted me.

Hey, I replied.

You look tired.

Thanks. So do you, I returned. What happened last night?

He glanced around reflexively, ensuring no one was within earshot. Some kids turned over a liquor store. I managed to round them up, leave them for the cops.

I raised an eyebrow, How many were there?

Seven.

I looked him over briefly, searching for injuries. Are you okay?

Yeah, just a couple scratches. He swung his bag around to the front of him and handed me his lacrosse stick. C’mon, we’re going to be late.

I clambered onto his back, locking my arms and legs around his torso, carefully positioning the stick between us, and out of Ben’s way. He took off and I buried my face into his neck, the wind abrasive against my skin. But I still loved it. There is nothing to describe the feeling of being airborne. If I ever fly in a real plane, I know I will always compare it to this.

Ben tensed beneath me abruptly, his head swiveling sharply to the left. He cut his jump short and we landed hard on the roof of a grey brick building, the impact jarring a grunt out of me.

What is it? I asked.

Sirens, he replied, his gaze already far away. It’s a fire truck.

As soon as he said the words, I thought I saw a faint cloud of smoke in the distance. Are you –

Even as I asked, he was already releasing his hold on my legs, dropping me to the ground. He pulled off his stuff, thrusting it into my arms, Take this for me. I’ll meet you at school.

What? I stammered, put off by the added weight, Ben! Wait!

But he was already gone, leaping into the air, leaving me stranded on the rooftop. I watched him disappear into the distance, his form becoming smaller. I don’t know why, but for some reason I almost expected him to come back. Though I knew he wouldn’t. It was hardly the first time something had come up like this and he’d had to leave me suddenly. I exhaled loudly and maneuvered the bags and straps around myself to make them less cumbersome. I didn’t succeed. It felt like Ben’s gym bag had bricks in it.

I found the fire escape and clambered down it awkwardly, Ben’s lacrosse stick constantly hitting the black metal, creating an irritating, almost musical accompaniment to my descent. At the third level a dog came snarling to the window, crashing its paws wildly against the glass. I screamed and fell back against the railing, my heart hammering in my chest.

Stupid dog, I muttered, before gathering myself to climb the rest of the way down.

I was maybe a fifteen minute walk from the school, but it was taking much longer, loaded down as I was with Ben’s bags. About five minutes in, I dropped his gym bag to the ground and started dragging it along the sidewalk after me.

Stupid super strength.

I was going to be late.

Hey. Need a hand?

I glanced up, surprised to see an incredibly attractive young man had walked up beside me. Tall, blonde, with clear skin and an easy smile. He looked familiar, though I was sure if I’d met him before I would have remembered. No one could forget seeing a face like that.

Sorry? I asked, vaguely realizing he’d asked me something.

He gestured to the bag I was dragging on the ground. That looks heavy.

Oh, yeah, I smiled, giving him a ‘what can you do?’ shrug.

Here. He took the strap from my hand and lifted it over his shoulder with ease. Geez, what’s in here?

I was guessing bricks.

Feels like it, he agreed. You play lacrosse?

He was looking at the stick I was carrying. Oh, no, my friend does. This is all his stuff.

Oh, he raised an eyebrow, and I knew he was wondering why I was carrying someone else’s sports gear.

Sorry, um… who are you? I asked.

Right, sorry, he grinned, momentarily distracted. I’m Beau. You’re Lily, right? You’re in my chemistry class.

I blinked, remembering the conversation I’d had with Hector the day before. So this was who Tiffany who had been taking photos of. I’d thought Hector had been exaggerating. I didn’t, now. Oh, right! I thought you looked familiar. We started walking toward the school again. I felt much lighter now that I wasn’t burdened by Ben’s sports bag. You just moved here, right?

Yeah, a few months ago.

You like it?

Mostly. It’s a bit of a change.

Where did you move from?

Ah… France. He said it self-consciously, his free hand threading through his thick hair.

I laughed, Yeah, that would be a change. In French I added, Mais parfois le changement est bon. But sometimes change is good.

He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled, Je devine qu’il peut être. Je n’ai pas pensé que les gens ici ont parlé français. I guess it can be. I didn’t think people here spoke French.

I shrugged. Parfois le professeur français fait. Sometimes the French teacher does.

He laughed, Ouais, il a découvert où j’étais de la semaine dernière et commencé me demandant s’il prononçait certains des mots faux. Yeah, he found out where I was from last week and started asking me if he was pronouncing some of the words wrong.

Aviez-vous peur pour dire ‘tous’ ? Were you afraid to say ‘all of them’? He laughed again and I smiled, reverting back to English. You don’t have an accent.

Yeah, we’re originally from around here. We moved for my dad’s work when I was twelve.

Sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to see Paris, I smiled to myself and rolled my eyes. But I’m guessing that’s what everyone says when you tell them where you’re from?

Just the girls.

Not the guys?

No, they ask me about French girls.

I laughed at how straightforward he was. Fair enough.

The biggest difference for me is the food, he said then. It’s all fast food here. That and … he shrugged, everything’s so much faster. People here are always rushing around like there’s not enough time for anything.

Maybe there isn’t.

He smirked at me, Or maybe people here don’t know when to hang it up.

You keep saying ‘people here’ like we’re aliens or something, I accused.

Maybe you are.

Zombies, maybe. But not aliens.

How are zombies better than aliens?

We like to eat new comers.

He laughed at my quick response, and I found myself smiling. Beau was surprisingly nice. Most people with faces like that were complete jerks. They were the kind of people who discovered early in life that they could get whatever they wanted with just a smile.

We walked the rest of the way to school talking about nothing in particular. He asked me what bands were popular here, and I listed off a few names that I’d heard around school. He told me there was actually a difference between a crepe and a pancake, which I simply refused to believe.

The sidewalk became more crowded as we reached the school grounds. I found myself becoming self-conscious as I realized how many heads were turning to watch Beau coming. Or going. The stares weren’t just from girls either.

Yo, Reynolds! someone called out from behind us.

I glanced around to see Ben’s friend Jamaal strolling toward us. He clapped Beau on the shoulder and bumped into him purposefully, grabbing the hand he offered in a quick shake. Where were you last night, man?

Working.

Again?

They don’t pay me if I don’t go.

Jamaal laughed, his eyes catching on me then as if just realizing I was there. Ah, sorry. I’m Jamaal.

He reached out a hand to me to shake, and I almost smiled. It wasn’t the first time we’d met. It was getting to be embarrassing that he still didn’t know who I was. I wondered briefly if he’d ever actually remember my name. Lily, I shook his hand briefly. I turned my attention back to Beau. Thanks for carrying that for me.

He looked at me in surprise, I’ll carry it in for you.

That’s okay. I can take it from here. He seemed reluctant to turn it over to me, but I simply held out my hand and waited. After an awkward pause, he lifted the strap from his shoulder and handed it to me. I tried not to bow under the added weight and continued toward the school. See you later, I called over my shoulder.

Yeah, see you in chemistry, he called back.

I waddled my way into the school, huffing under the weight of the extra baggage. I shouldered my way past other students to Ben’s locker and shoved his bags inside with relief, awkwardly fitting his lacrosse stick along the side of the locker. I lifted myself on tip toe and rummaged around the top shelf until I found his pair of clean clothes tucked at the back of the space. If he was going into a burning building he’d smell like smoke when he came out. He’d need to shower and change before people noticed.

Clean clothing was something else we’d learned to keep on hand. Rips, tears, and blood weren’t easily explainable. He had more clothes stashed in my locker, the music room, the art room, the roof of the school, and my house. Well, my house was where his ruined clothing ended up and that I’d try to clean. I’d washed out so many of Ben’s shirts with bleach that he barely had any other colours in his wardrobe. And more than half of his clothes had some sort of hand stitched patch sewn on. I think it served to show how popular Ben was that no one really commented on his clothing style. It was a relief that the whole holes in the jeans look was coming back.

I hurried into the men’s change room before the bell rang and set the clothes on the floor under one of the benches. I heard the door open as I was turning to leave and flattened myself against the wall near one of the changing stalls. Footsteps slapped against the tiled floor and I grimaced. It hadn’t been the first time I’d been caught in the men’s room, but it never stopped being embarrassing. If he was early for gym class I was screwed.

I peeked around the corner of the stall to see Coach Hart setting out two sets of jerseys on the benches. He taped up a few sheets of paper to various areas in the room and headed back toward the exit. I waited until I heard the door slam shut before following. I opened the door cautiously, and slipped out as unobtrusively as I was able. Coach Hart was just visible in his office, his back to the door. I hurried from the gym as the bell rang, announcing the start of classes.

I texted Ben as I took my seat in calculus, letting him know there were clothes for him in the shower.

He didn’t show up for first period. I kept sneaking glances at the door, searching for his form. But I didn’t see it. I began to get fidgety by the end of class, texting him again on my way to chemistry. I handed in my lab to Mr. Forgrath and made my way over to Hector, who was already setting up our equipment.

I forced a smile for him, Hey, slow down. You’re making the rest of us look bad.

He grinned at me, How was your night?

Pretty dull, you?

Got a new video game.

I laughed, So you got how much sleep?

An hour maybe?

I shook my head at him, So I guess I’m taking the lead on this, then?

I’ll do everything you tell me to. Just don’t ask me to do calculate anything.

Agreed.

He nodded at someone behind me, an uneasy smile forming on his face. Ah, listen, I told Beau he could do the experiment with us. Is that okay?

I blinked, Uh, yeah. Sure. I glanced around, seeing Beau talking to two of the prettier, more popular, girls in our grade, Alissa and Rosie. Or maybe ‘talking’ wasn’t quite accurate. Rosie was fawning on him as he was talking, with Alissa staring at him like he was a piece of KFC chicken. Who’s he been partnering with before?

I think he’s been drifting between groups. Rosie’s kind of glued herself to him though.

I raised an eyebrow at Hector, Jealous?

He laughed, About Rosie? Not likely. She’s hot, but she scares the crap out of me.

She scares the crap out of everybody, I agreed.

Isn’t she going out with Dan? he asked, referring to Dan Hough. He was another one of the popular crowd.

Last I heard it was Seth, I shrugged, not caring. Do you want to get out the HCl? I’ll start writing out the procedure and you can copy it after?

He smiled with relief, I love you so much right now.

Yeah, yeah, I muttered.

Hector and I worked well together. We’d been lab partners since ninth grade, and it just kind of stuck. We talked and joked around, but we didn’t associate much beyond the realm of school. It suited us. Our relationship was uncomplicated. I didn’t find myself constantly turning down his invitations the way I was other peoples when something with Ben came up. I saw him at school, and I talked to him about school. No awkward apologies, he was just Hector. And I was just Lily.

Beau made his way over to us after Mr. Forgrath gave us a quick introduction to the lab, finding us already set up and under way.

Hello again, he smiled at me.

Hello again, I repeated back to him.

What can I do?

Follow the leader, Hector announced, gesturing to me.

Hector’s on the bad end of a gaming bender, I explained.

Beau nodded, though clearly not quite understanding. I showed Beau my notes, indicating where we were so far. It was a simple acid-base titration, with three different volumes. Only one person could titrate at a time, so we left Hector to do that while I calculated out the math to save us from doing it later. Beau measured out the volumes for the next titrations and then kind of hung back.

I realized vaguely that Hector and I weren’t being very sociable. We weren’t used to an extra person. I smiled apologetically, Sorry, did you want to titrate?

Uh, no that’s okay.

You sure? You’re missing out over here, Hector commented absently, watching the solution for the slightest change in colour.

You look pretty into it.

Hector grinned, I look like I just drank two red bulls.

Beau laughed, Is that what that is?

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I glanced to see where Mr. Forgrath was before checking it.

SOS. Back door.

Hector tsked at me, Miss Campbell, breaking the rules.

That’s me. Big rebel. I tucked my phone back in my pocket, and pushed my notebook toward Beau. Be right back.

You’re leaving in our time of need? Hector demanded.

I rolled my eyes, Five minutes. You’ll survive.

I asked for the bathroom pass from Mr. Forgrath and strode from the room. Once out in the hallway I broke into a run toward the back door of the school. I pushed the doors open, looking frantically for Ben.

Lily, he called. I whipped around, seeing his form barely camouflaged by the bushes lining the school building. I hurried toward him, unable to hide the concern in my expression.

What is it? Are you okay? I demanded.

Yeah, I’m okay, he returned, his voice hurried. C’mere, c’mere.

I knelt beside him, searching for injuries. His clothes were ripped, soiled with soot, and he smelled like smoke, but he looked okay.

It’s my leg. I can’t get a good enough grip on it.

I frowned, realizing what he meant. There was a good sized ragged length of wood lodged firmly in his calf, a little longer than the span of my forearm, and twice as thick, slippery with blood and soot. Oh my God, Ben…

I just need you to pull it out, he coaxed, his voice calm. I’ll clean it out in the shower. It’ll heal, I’ll be fine. He gripped my shoulder, forcing me to meet his steady gaze, Its fine. I promise.

But… oh, Ben, that looks bad…

Hey, it’s okay. Remember that pipe I got stuck in my leg?

Yeah, but wood splinters, and that… that’s all the way through.

It’ll be fine. We just need to get it out.

I nodded, accepting his words as reality. I held his eyes for a moment, gaining reassurance from how sure he seemed, how calm, in spite of the situation. I reached for the splinter of wood, hesitating when I saw him wince.

Hang on, he rushed out. He stripped off his soiled shirt, revealing smooth dark skin and pressed it into my hands. Use this.

I wrapped the material around my hands and reached for the jagged piece of wood again. Ready? I asked. When he nodded, I took a deep breath and pulled sharply, slowly yanking the splinter out with a sickening sucking sound. Ben groaned roughly, gritting his teeth together at the pain of it. Blood poured from his wound, and I pressed the shirt against it, applying pressure to it.

Are you okay? I demanded. Even as he nodded I added, I’ll go to the nurse’s office. I’ll get some –

Its fine, he interrupted me, his voice calming. It’s okay. It looks worse than it is. I’ll clean it off and we can look at it at lunch.

I hesitated, disagreeing, but I nodded anyways. Okay. I tied the shirt around this leg, hoping it was enough pressure.

Help me up.

I got to my feet and helped him to his. Can you get to the showers?

Yeah. Get me to the door and I’ll run the rest of the way.

He slid an arm over my shoulder and I helped him hobble to the doorway. He braced his arms against the door and breathed deeply, bowing his head.

Ben?

I’m good, he insisted. I’ll text you at lunch.

And then he was gone. When he used his speed, it was almost like he’d disappeared. The door banged shut behind him, leaving me outside alone. I glanced down at my hands, wincing slightly when I saw the blood staining them. Jesus. But I knew I couldn’t freak out, I couldn’t follow him in to the showers without people seeing and asking questions. I had to stay calm. I had to go back to class now, no matter how insane that seemed at the moment.

I breathed deeply, as Ben had done moments before, and strode inside. I ducked into the girl’s washroom briefly and washed my hands, watching the blood dissolve away with the water into the sink. I’ve seen blood before, my own, even. But it always caught me when it was Ben’s. It hurt me that he let himself go that far to help people he didn’t even know. But I knew he thought it was what he needed to do. Why he had those kinds of abilities.

And who was I to stand in his way and ask him not to?

He was doing a good thing. He’d done a good thing today, helping people that someone else may not have been able to. But he’d hurt himself too. What if next time… what if next time was the last time? He could so easily get himself killed. He was so reckless. Like he thought he was invincible.

I braced my hands against the bathroom sink and shook my head at myself. The fact of the matter was, it wasn’t my call. Ben needed to do what he felt he had to.

And so did I. Even if it was only this much.

Chapter 4

I dried my hands and jogged back to the class room. I wasn’t sure exactly how long I’d been gone. Longer than a normal bathroom break? Shorter? I should have paid closer attention.

Beau and Hector were working on the third titration when I returned, but still miles ahead of everyone else. I handed the pass back to the teacher and rejoined them, acting as normally as I could, and not like I had just yanked a giant splinter of wood out of my best friend.

I smiled brightly at Beau and Hector, See? You survived.

Just barely, Hector joked.

I chuckled lightly, reclaiming my notebook.

Actually, we had to redo the third one, Hector admitted. Beau distracted me.

Alissa distracted you, corrected Beau.

Please, Hector snorted.

"Oh really? I raised an eyebrow at Hector, Did Alissa hit on you?"

Please, Hector repeated.

Oh that sounds like a yes.

He rolled his eyes. Get to work you slacker.

I glanced down, noting the times and volumes Beau had written down in the margin of my page for the second and third titration. I glanced over, seeing the one over-coloured solution and crossed out the third set of titration measurements, but left room for the one Hector was doing now. I continued to write out the equations, filling in the variables. Beau leaned over and started copying out what I was doing, pausing and asking me to explain certain points.

I drew out the long version of the formula, demonstrating how I’d achieved my short cuts.

Is it totally different in France? I asked.

Uh, parts of it, he agreed.

Hector paused, You’re from where now?

Beau smiled, the same embarrassed smile from this morning. My family just moved here from Strasbourg.

Where’s that? he asked.

It’s along the coast of France.

And you moved here? Hector shook his head, disbelieving. What is wrong with you?

Dude, shut up, I chided, shoving Hector’s shoulder lightly.

Oh, oh, oh! Hector cried out as too many drops tumbled into the beaker. We all froze, waiting to see if the solution would change colour. It didn’t. Hector glared at me, Don’t mess with a man and his titration, woman.

I held up my hands and grinned conspiratorially at Beau, My bad.

We waited for Hector to finish the last titration, his concentration avid. The solution flushed the lightest of pinks, and Hector grinned in triumph, holding the beaker up high.

Beakers on the counters Mr. Li! called out Mr. Forgrath.

Hector immediately placed it back down on the counter as if it had burned him, Yes sir.

Wimp, I whispered.

Shut up, he retorted.

We cleaned up our space and continued to write out the formula part of the lab report that would be due two days later. Hector and I walked Beau through the calculations, realizing we were going too quickly with our short cuts for him to follow accurately.

When the bell rang I packed up quickly and booked it from the room, apologizing even as I did so. I wanted to find Ben and make sure he was okay. I put away my books and called his phone, walking down the hall in no particular direction, my eyes searching for him almost frantically.

Hey.

Hey, how’s your leg? I asked, trying not to allow my worry into my voice.

Sore. Meet you in the nurse’s office?

Yeah.

We hung up and I started hurrying in that direction. Rebecca interrupted me on my way, catching my arm with an enthusiastic smile. She was charmingly pretty, with pink streaked dirty blonde hair, and a slim, short build.

Hey! I’m glad I caught you!

Oh, hi, I replied absently, I’m just going to meet Ben.

Oh, that’s okay. This will be quick. Emma and I wanted to know if you wanted to go to Seth’s party with us on Saturday.

Saturday? Um… sure I think so. Can I let you know? I’ll just double check if I’m working that day, I lied. I didn’t have time for a part time job. I’d quit my job at Tony Roma’s at the end of the summer.

Did you pick up another part time job?

Yeah, no, it’s the same one. I just have really weird shifts, I excused poorly. But I was distracted. I needed to get to the nurses office. We would only have an hour before the nurse came back.

Okay, sounds good, she smiled excitedly. It’s going to be killer. They’ve got a live band playing and everything.

That’s awesome, I forced myself to smile back at her, but my concern for Ben’s injury was overriding my ability to be social. I’ll definitely let you know, okay? I’ll catch up with you later.

I waved at her and hurried to end of the hallway on the second floor of the school. The second floor was less crowded as the majority of the school body was either heading toward, or already in, the cafeteria. The door to the nurse’s station was unlocked, and I entered quietly, wanting to avoid questions from the nurse if I could.

She already left for lunch, Ben’s voice reached me from behind the curtain at the other end of the room. I walked toward it, finding him looking far better than he had a little under an hour before. You’d never have known he’d been involved in something so dangerous such short time ago.

How’d you know it was me?

I can always tell it’s you, he looked at me like it was a stupid question. Besides, who comes to the nurse’s office at lunch time?

Sick people?

Yeah, well, he shrugged, taking a seat on the low cushioned table. He rolled up his pant leg and tried to angle himself to be able to see the damage himself.

"Lie on