❂ Chapter 10 ❂

"Come in."

     Terrance opened the front door wide and let me in. I looked down at the floor as I entered. I followed him into the kitchen. It felt awkward. No. I felt awkward. I couldn't meet his eyes. Showing up unannounced didn't seem like the right thing to do but I didn't know where else to go. Everything at home felt suffocating. I needed to be somewhere else for a little bit.

     "I'm about to put the kids to bed," Terrance said.

     "Okay."

     I didn't think he was looking at me. I breathed out. I looked at him. He made a show of rearranging the kitchen table. He pushed aside his electrician equipment. He pulled out a chair.

     "Make yourself comfortable. Maybe get some homework done? I'll be a while." He gave me a soft smile. There wasn't an understanding in his gaze. Not that there could be. How could he understand what was going on if I haven't said anything? If I barely knew what was going on. Still. There wasn't a misunderstanding in his gaze either. It didn't make sense. But he seemed to make sense of it for the both of us.

     I nodded. I took a seat. I zipped open my backpack and got out my homework. I struggled with my injured arm. I didn't need the sling anymore but that didn't mean it didn't hurt anymore. I absentmindedly poked at his electrician equipment on the table to keep myself awake, organizing it, as I worked on some homework. I snuck a glance at my phone to check if Alex replied to my message. I sent an apology text a while ago. She didn't read it yet. I frowned.

     Tonight was the opening of the musical. How was I supposed to act around her?

     I went back to getting my homework done. I didn't know the material well enough. That didn't matter. It was something to do. The bare minimum would be fine. I sighed. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was tired. So tired. It's hard. Everything.

     "Don't touch any of the electric stuff."

      I slowly turned my attention away from my homework and over to Terrance. Exhausted for no particular reason. My eyelids grew heavy. I blinked a couple of times, forcing myself awake.

     Terrance stood by the kitchen table with two mugs in his hands.

     "Oh." I moved my hand away. "Sorry."

     "I don't want you to get hurt," he explained. He took the empty seat in front of me and sat down. He passed me a mug.

     I pressed my lips together and nodded. Terrance is a nice guy. I knew that. But how long is he going to be on edge around me? The accident was a long time ago. People get over things in their own time, but it wasn't like he got hurt.

     "How could I get hurt when nothing here is on or plugged in?" I asked.

     I took a sip. Hot cocoa. I don't like sweet drinks. And it's already spring. It's almost summer, really. I don't like hot drinks in hot weather. I took another sip. Did I even eat today? I should have sugar. I should. I put the mug down. I spared one last glance at the mug before looking back at Terrance.

     "Don't be rational with me." He smiled, wide and with his teeth, and then he laughed. In his smile was something warm and in his eyes was something just as gentle. I thought maybe a fear of something could be because you're gentle. That's not bad. I don't think so. I don't understand it too much. But maybe fear is something like a virtue.

     "Can I ask you something?"

     He placed his elbows flat on the table, his hands clasped around the mug, and he leaned over with a head tilt. Curious. "Go for it."

      I thought of how to word this. I'm not really articulate. I decided to be straightforward. "Why are you still on edge around me?"

     He didn't say anything at first. I noticed the sudden quietness of the house. I glanced at the time glowing from the microwave. The kids must have fallen asleep. I looked back at him. He looked back at me meaningfully.

     "It's hard–" he started and I frowned because I understood what he meant when he said that like he was frustrated with himself for thinking it was hard "–for me to see people get hurt when I could prevent it."

     I watched him. His eyebrows furrowed, making his forehead crease. A certain expression that I couldn't relate to.

     I guess it doesn't matter that he didn't get hurt in the accident. I did. And for him, that's like him getting hurt. That's hard. Some people get hurt because someone they know gets hurt. You had to be a good person to be like that. Probably. I thought about Jude. How affected he was when he thought he hurt me. How he's still not over whoever it was he thought he should have protected. Terrance is like that too.

     "A lot of people get hurt for dumb things," he continued. "I hate having to be a bystander when that happens. I'm on edge around you because I feel like I was a bystander that night and I don't want to be a bystander again."

     If Terrance had superpowers, he would be a superhero.

     "It's something I'm working on. As a parent, I'm ten times more paranoid that something might happen to my kids. I get overprotective. Emily keeps me in check. It's a process." His expression relaxed at the mention of Emily.

     I didn't know what to say. I chewed the inside of my cheeks. "Thanks. For uh telling me."

     "Thanks for asking."

     I felt a tug at the corner of my lips. Up and down. Not a smile. Not a frown. I don't know. "Does it help if I tell you I'm over it?" I said something like that to Jude. That there's a comfort when you know the other person is over it.

     "It does."

     "Good," I whispered under my breath. That was good.

     "Can I ask you something?" He asked.

     "Yeah."

     "I'm happy to have you over but why did you come here tonight?"

     My stomach churned. He had the right to ask that. And I knew I didn't have to give him an answer. He would be okay if I told him I didn't want to talk about it.

     "It's hard," I told him and he nodded for me to elaborate. "Mom and dad have been weird around me. Since the car accident. They've been weird to each other. And I feel..." I let the silence speak for me. Guilty. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for so many things.

     "What do you feel?" He encouraged me to continue.

     I stared down at my lap. I blinked a couple of times. "Guilty," I manage to say. My voice cracked. "I feel guilty." My face burned in shame.

     "Okay."

     "Okay?" I echoed. I raised my eyebrows at him. "You aren't gonna say I shouldn't feel guilty? Or ask me why I feel guilty."

     "I'm not going to tell you what you should feel," he said and added, "I feel guilty about things that aren't my fault too. I bet your parents feel guilty too. We're all a little conceited to think it's our fault, aren't we?"

     My eyes widened. I didn't expect him to say that. In my surprised state, I let out a laugh. He's right. We're all so self-obsessed.

     "We are," I agreed.

     "I am sorry you feel that way," he clarified. "And that it's hard for you to be around them right now. You're always welcome here. Next time come when the kids are awake. They'd love to see you."

     I didn't have much of an opinion on Terrance before. He married my older sister, recently moved to the area with her and the kids, and made an effort to build a relationship with me. I always thought he was a nice guy. In the back of my mind, I thought that he might have been a nice guy to me because he thought he had to be.

     It isn't that he's nice. He's kind.

     "I don't know if Emily would be into that," I joked despite the lack of humor in my tone because everything felt too real. I wanted to breathe.

     "She might use you as a babysitter," he teased. "Which I'm not against."

     We shared a couple more jokes as I helped him clean up what was left from dinner in the dining room. I noticed two plates set and unused.

     "Where's Emily?" I asked.

     "At a work social. She'll be home late so I had an early supper with the kids."

     He didn't eat yet. Probably not. Since there are two unused plates. "Oh."

     "You can leave these plates on the table."

     I left those plates on the table. I picked up the used plates. "You're eating later with Emily?"

     " I need to hear the latest work gossip," he reasoned, something light and silly in his tone.

     To truly love someone. I can't imagine what that's like. But maybe it's something less complicated than I originally thought.

     I brought the dishes to the sink. I overheard Terrance hum to himself. I looked over my shoulder. From the kitchen, I could see him in the dining room. He straightened the silverware by the set of unused plates. The silliness in his tone must have reached his face because he looked so silly with that grin. I wondered if I would ever make such an expression. If I ever could.

     I heard a car honk. I furrowed my eyebrows, startled by the sound, and suddenly more awake.

     "That's your dad?" Terrance asked and came by the sink to wash the dishes.

     I moved away to give him more room. "Should be," I said.

     I collected my stuff. I noticed the missed call from dad. I guess that's why he honked.

     Terrance walked me to the front door. "I'll see you later?"

     "Yeah."

     I left the house and went to the passenger seat of dad's cop car.

     "Hey," dad greeted me and started the car. "Did you get to have dinner?"

     Hot cocoa. "Yeah."

     "Excited for tonight?"

     Why would I be excited about a musical that I have no role in? If anything, I'm nervous. What if I mess up the lights? My powers have done that before. Alex is there too. Did she see my text yet?

     "Not really..."

     "Nervous?"

     Yeah. "Yeah."

     Before dad could attempt to further the conversation which I pathetically took part in, his phone started to ring. It was at a red light so dad picked up the phone instead of asking me. He listened, not saying much in return. His expression sharpened. After an "okay", he hung up, and the traffic light turned green.

     "I have to make a stop at the police department," dad said. "Don't worry. We'll get you back to school in time for the musical rehearsal."

     "Okay."

     The rest of the car ride was quiet. Dad wore a thoughtful expression. I tried to catch five minutes of sleep. I wondered if instead, I should try and start a conversation with dad. He'd like that. It might put him at ease.

     "Can I come in and say hi to everyone?" I asked him as he parked the car.

     "You want to come in and say hi to everyone?" He repeated. His hands were on the wheel, his face in my direction. There was a mixture of confusion and excitement there.

     "Yeah."

     He looked like he wanted to ask why. I hoped he wouldn't. I couldn't be honest with him.

     "Yeah." He smiled. I wish he didn't smile at me like that. He meant his smiles. I frowned. "It's been a while since you've been at the department."

     We both got out of the car. I got up too fast that I saw stars. I clicked my tongue and waved my hands around as if that would get rid of them. Sometimes it worked.

     Dad didn't make any comments. I followed him into the police department. I pulled out my phone and checked my notifications. I tucked it away in my pocket. Still no response from Alex.

     Everyone in the department seemed to be in a rush. I waved to some of the staff members that I recognized. They waved back with other quick pleasantries. How's school? It's been a while. How was your last basketball game? I cringed at the last question. That felt like forever ago. It still makes me feel like shit.

     Eventually, dad was out of sight and I listened to some police officer's story with Dark Wonder. It's always Officer Stan.

     "You know," Officer Stan said. "Everyone here is still not over my work laptop getting taken away from Dark Wonder. They keep bringing it up." He pouted and it gave him a puppy-like look.

     "I didn't know it was confirmed to be Dark Wonder." I crossed my arms over my chest. I remembered dad talking about this. He didn't like how the entire scene played out. Completely unprofessional, he remarked.

     "It's a conspiracy–" he did air quotes and rolled his eyes "–but I'm certain it was him. I've dealt with that son of a gun more times than I can count. It was definitely him."

     I nodded along and let him continue talking. I spared glances over at dad's office door, waiting for him to walk out of it. By the fifth glance, he did. And he wasn't alone.

     My heart stopped. I watched, eyes wide, and lips apart. I rubbed my eyes a couple of times. The green eyes and brown hair. The brown leather jacket and a pencil by his ear.

     Henry.

     Why the hell is Henry here? Why is he standing there with dad? Why are they shaking hands? What is going on?

     I froze. Henry still hasn't contacted me since the super fight. It's been both a relief and torture. Mostly torture. Maybe only torture. But why is he here? Just who is he to have an urgent meeting with dad? It seemed like some professional work was going on. Nothing threatening. Henry wouldn't do anything here. I knew that.

     They finished their conversation. Henry walked over to another police officer. I don't think he noticed me. Dad headed over to me.

     "Who was that?" I asked while we walked out of the building. "Is he new?"

     "That's Henry," dad told me. "He's working with Mayor Zanders on a project and needed some information."

     "Oh. Cool."

     I tried to understand what was going on. It felt important. It felt like I was missing something huge. But I'm not smart. I'm not quick. I have no idea what this all means. All I knew was that I felt like things were about to fall apart.

❂* ❂ * ❂

     My hands kept shaking. I tried to tighten my grip on the stage lights. I didn't want anyone to notice that I couldn't hold the lights properly. Especially Raven. The audience too. Would they even realize something is off? I can't stop thinking about Henry. About dad talking with Henry. And it's irrelevant. It's so stupid. But why didn't Alex answer my text? I know her phone is working. I saw her on a call when I showed up at the rehearsal.

     I moved the lights as I was supposed to. I bit down on my lips. I tried to stop myself from hyperventilating. I had to breathe. I couldn't panic. Everyone worked hard. This is important to them. I just wish I didn't feel like I was going to die.

     My heart. Beating so fast. My head. Spinning all over the place. There's this ringing in my ear. Maybe I'm still experiencing symptoms from the car crash. They said I had a concussion. How long do concussions take to heal? I don't know. I sniffed, blinked a couple of times, and shook my head. I need to stay focused.

     I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I didn't check it immediately. I first positioned the lights and once I knew they would stay in place, I took out my phone. Was it Chad? I stared at the screen.

     Good job on the lights.

     I read the text. My stomach dropped. It was from Henry. Was he here? Now? I looked down at the audience. I couldn't see anything. I tried to see the people in the front row. The people in the back. And the people in the middle. It was too dark. There was another vibration. I sucked in a breath. There was another text from Henry.

     He sent me an address. A time for tonight. Then instructions.

     I can't. I can't. He wants me to get into another super fight. I can barely freaking stand right now, damn it. Doesn't he understand that I don't have super healing? There's no way I can do this.

     I'm still not fully healed.

     I sent him the text. I shifted the lights. I waited for his response. Sweating in the palm of my hands, making my already trembling hands slip against the light handles.

     He didn't answer until the musical finished.

     Then don't overdo it.

     Don't overdo it means that I still have to do it. I closed my eyes. Shit.

     Okay. Fine. I shoved my phone into my pocket. I grabbed my backpack. I always have the costume in there. To hell with it. Let's get this over with. I'll make a scene at the location he wants, get the superheroes' attention, and back off as soon as I can. Who knows? Maybe I'll die in the process. I'm not a lucky person.

     A sudden terrible scenario flashed in my mind. Mom and dad finding my dead body in this costume. I wiped the thought away.

     I'll be careful. It'll be okay. That won't happen.

     I quickly walked past everyone in the theater. I pushed past family members congratulating the actors. I pushed past students who were cleaning up. And I pushed past Jeremiah, accidentally bumping into Jude.

     Our shoulders hit each other. He instantly took my arm so neither of us would fall. My injured arm. I flinched.

     "You alright?" His eyes stared into mine. The ringing in my ears went silent.

     I grabbed his hand and ripped it away from my arm. "I don't need shit from you right now."

     He's going to turn this into a whole ordeal and I might cry if that happens. I don't need that now. Or ever actually. I didn't give him an opportunity to say anything and turned my speed walk into a sprint. I ran out of the theater. I headed to the locker room. No one should be there. I'll get into the costume, become invisible, and do as Henry said to do. I can do it.

     I got to the locker room. No one was there. I went behind the last locker row just in case. I rushed to get my costume on. I first put on the face mask so that no one would recognize me if someone walked in. I took my clothes off, stuffed them in my backpack, and shoved my backpack into a locker. I started to pull on the rest of the costume. I clicked my tongue. I really hate this costume.

     "Jaxon?"

     Shit. I turned invisible. Why did someone call for me? I kept quiet. I couldn't see fully. With just the face mask on, my vision blurred. I could make out the different colors of the room and silhouettes of objects. I needed the whole costume to see fully.

     I heard footsteps. I clutched the costume in my hands. The footsteps were nearing. There was a silhouette of a person. I recognized the orange. My heart skipped a beat. Jude. Damn it. Why can't he just let things be?

     He got closer to me while looking around. But he couldn't see me. If he got any closer he'd bump into me. He muttered something under his breath. I felt it. I looked up at the ceiling. Blinking rapidly. My heart thumped loudly. He was barely an inch away from me now. If he moved even–

     I held my breath. He was pressed against me, his arms reaching for something behind me. He froze. I was already frozen. He moved his arm down. I couldn't see his facial expression but I heard a small gasp and I wondered what he could possibly be thinking to make sense of whatever he was experiencing.

     I felt his hand on my chest, pushing forward like he was testing something. I didn't think before moving away.

     "You're invisible," Jude said, sounding out of breath. "Then that means you're the invisible super."

     Out of every person in the whole freaking world, why the hell did it have to be Jude to find out? I wanted to tell someone so badly. I left everything out in my room. I thought someone might see. Then that I would have to explain myself. And someone would finally know. But mom and dad were good about respecting my privacy and they would never see it. I didn't bother trying to be less suspicious when I did things. I wanted them to call me out so I'd have to tell them everything. They trust me too much.

     I blinked back the wetness in my eyes. There's no getting around Jude knowing. I made myself visible. I slipped off my face mask. Our eyes met. Mine filled with shame and his filled with surprise.

     "Before you panic–" he said with his hands up "–put some clothes on."

     My face burned. I was still only in my boxers. I looked away from him. I took my backpack out of the locker. I tried to unzip it. I didn't notice how much I was shaking. How my stomach churned. The fact that I was going to panic. I breathed in and out, fast and uncontrollably. I dropped my backpack. It fell to the floor. I pressed my hand against my head and pulled onto my hair, hoping the pain would startle me enough to snap out of it.

     He knows I'm a supervillain. He thinks I'm a bad guy. I don't care what Jude thinks. But I don't want him to know. And he knows. He knows.

     Jude grabbed my wrist. My eyes widened. My breathing quickened. My heart kept beating faster and faster.

     "Breath," he said gently. "You're going to be okay."

     I shook my head back and forth, swallowing down, and I felt my eyes begin to water. It was so hard to breathe. He knows. Shit. He knows. He's seen the things I can do. I was all over the news. He knows it was me.

     And what if Henry finds out Jude knows? What am I supposed to do?!

     "What can I do–" he stopped himself, his eyes landing on mine. "Tell me five things you can see, Jaxon."

     "What?!" I managed to gasp out. What is he doing?

     "Five things you can see."

     I looked around the room, everything was so blurry and going in and out. I focused on Jude. He was already looking at me. "You," I said, breathless. I could only see him. "And–I don't know."

     Would Henry use Jude too? Would he threaten me with Jude? I might hate Jude, but I wouldn't want him to get hurt. Especially if I could stop it.

     "You're doing well," he whispered. "Four more things."

     I looked to my side and blinked a few times. "The fire alarm. Lockers." Why did that take so much energy? It was hard to think. I looked up at the ceiling. "The ceiling." I looked back at him. "The wall."

     He let go of my wrist. "Four things you can touch."

     I rubbed my wrist. "My wrist."

     "Oh god." He took my wrist in his hand again and gently rubbed his thumb there. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

     He didn't hurt me. I watched him. Did he even realize what he was doing?

      "Your hands," I said.

     "Yeah?" He kept staring down at my wrist while rubbing it like that would make them all better. I didn't tell him otherwise. There was something calming about the circular motion of his callous fingers.

     With my other hand, I touched my head. "My head." I trailed my hand down to my nose. "My nose."

     I noticed the way his eyes crinkled. A version of some kind of smile. I don't know why, and I kind of hated it, but it eased my heart. Maybe this situation isn't terrible.

     "Three things you can hear."

     Were we doing the whole thing? How does he know the rest of it? I don't think we got this far when I did this with him.

     "Your voice. The drops of water from the shower." I frowned. "The people from the theater."

     "They're loud, aren't they?" He looked at me now.

      "Yeah." I looked at him. "They are."

     "Two things you can smell."

     I closed my eyes. I breathed in. "Mint and cigarettes." I hate mint.

     "One thing you can taste."

     I opened my eyes. His lip piercing caught my attention. I licked my lips. "I can't taste anything," I said.

     "That's fair. Are you okay now?"

     "I'm okay now."

      He let go of my wrist. I watched him grab my backpack from the floor, unzip it, and take out my clothes. He handed them to me. He took my costume and put it in my backpack. I stared down at my clothes.

     How was he calm? Was he not scared of me? He said he wasn't disgusted with me before. I'm sure he is now. A bully with powers. What are the odds? Is he enjoying this irony? What is he thinking?

     "What are you thinking?" Jude asked me.

     "What are you thinking?" I had to know.

     "I don't know what to think."

     My frown deepened. That means he's thinking things that he knows I wouldn't like to hear. This is what he thinks is kindness. It's not kind at all. I hate it.

     "You think I'm a horrible person," I told him. I tried to put on my dress shirt. I struggled with my injured arm.

     He paused and watched me. "No. I don't think that." He helped me slide my arm into the sleeve.

     "Yes, you do. Now you're definitely disgusted with me." And it didn't matter if he was. That wasn't the problem here, but suddenly that was all I could think about.

     "Don't decide my feelings for me."

     I didn't need to look at him to see his glare. I could hear it in his tone of voice.

     "You don't seem to know your own feelings." I tried to shrug his hands off me. Maybe I was acting like a child but that didn't mean I needed him to help me get dressed.

     I felt his gaze on me. He tugged on the collar of my shirt, forcing my attention on him. "You don't seem to know your own feelings," he returned.

     "And I bet you think you know what I'm feeling? Since you think you know everything."

     "Why do you keep saying that?" His grip on my collar tightened. He clenched his jaw. Frustrated. "I don't understand you. Sometimes, Jaxon, you–" he stopped himself.

     This wasn't the first time he's started a sentence like that and didn't finish. "What Jude? What is it that I do?!"

     I thought he would yell back. I practically spat in his face when I screamed at him. But he didn't yell at all. His voice softened. He ducked his head. I felt his hands on my collar loosen. "You surprise me," he said.

     I furrowed my eyebrows. What the hell does that mean?

     "What the hell does that mean?"

     He breathed down my neck. Whatever it meant must have bothered him because gone was anything that made him ever seem soft. He was pissed. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone else startled the both of us.

     "Is everything okay, Jude?" A voice asked.

     Jude snapped his attention back at me. His eyes were a fraction wider while mine were completely wide. Was that Jeremiah? It sounded like Jeremiah. If it's Jeremiah...I'll lose it. I think that will make me lose it.

     "Oh."

      Jude and I turned our heads. It was Jeremiah.

     He stood there. Just stood there. His eyes jumped from Jaxon to me. I could see his brain putting things together. He glanced at Jude's hands which were still on the collar of my shirt. I ripped his hands away from me. Jude looked back at me with a frown. I gave him a pointed look of disgust. What is wrong with him? He should have immediately let go of me.

     "Oh," Jeremiah managed to say. He looked again between Jaxon and me. His eyes slowly trailed down to my legs.

     I stared up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes. I breathed in. That's right. I'm not wearing any pants. I'm barely wearing a shirt.

     "Oh!" He gasped. I thought that was an over-dramatic reaction. I looked at Jeremiah to try and see where his thoughts were taking him. I knew exactly what he was thinking when his eyes widened and his face became bright red. He hid his face behind the corner edge of the lockers with his hands gripping the edge like that would keep him upright. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know–I didn't mean–I'm going to go now."

     And he left. I could hear him intentionally making sure to close the door behind him, and fumbling during the process, opening and closing it again as if that would do anything. All while, apologizing much more than necessary.

     I stood there. I didn't look at Jude. His sudden laughter filling the room was more than enough for me to handle.

     "It's not funny," I said.

      His chuckles slowed down, a wisp of a smile on his lips and I wondered if he only smiled like that when he laughed. "It's a little funny."

     I frowned. "He thinks we're hooking up now." Did he not understand?

     "Exactly."

     "Do you not understand?" Did he need me to spell it out for him? "He thinks his best friend and bully are hooking up. Don't you have to clear this up so he doesn't feel betrayed by you?"

     "How kind of you," Jude teased me. He smirked. "You're so concerned."

     I rolled my eyes. Fine. Whatever. I pushed him away from me and finished buttoning up my shirt. If he doesn't care, I don't care. I started putting my pants back on. One foot in after the other. Jude leaned against the locker, his arms crossed over his chest, his head at a tilt. I slowed down, glaring at him, and then stopped, not realizing it.

     "What are you thinking about?" I asked him.

     "Nothing." He looked away. "Hurry up. I'll give you a chance to explain. Just not here."

     "I don't have to explain anything." I zipped up my pants. I put my socks and shoes on.

     "You don't," he agreed. "But if you do then maybe you won't think that I think you're terrible."

     "I don't care what you think."

      "No?"

     What a condensing piece of shit.

     "No." I sucked in a breath.

     "Don't start panicking."

     How could he tell that I was going to start panicking?

     "Don't tell me what to do," I shot back.

     "You're okay." He pressed his lips together. Not really a smile but something reassuring. "It's okay."

     "I'm not okay," I whispered. "And it's not okay."

     "We can talk about something else." He looked me up and down. "Why are you dressed like that?"

     "You mean the button-up?" I asked. I looked at my chest. "It's opening night. Everyone worked hard. I thought I should um...I don't know. I know I just do the stage lights. No one would even notice my clothes... I thought it would be respectful." I shrugged. I tugged at the collar.

     He stared at me. I stared back. He sighed. I frowned.

     "You're not–" he paused. He clicked his tongue. I couldn't tell what he was annoyed at. "You're not the bad person you think you are."

     "I'm literally a supervillain. It's as straightforward as that."

     "So it seems."

     "I think you want me not to be the bad person you think I am."

     "Why would I want that?"

     "Why do you keep trying to make me more than I am?"

     "Why do you keep trying to make yourself less than who you are?"

     "Stop it. What the hell? Stop turning the questions back to me. What even goes on in your head?"

     He straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest. He shrugged. "It just doesn't make sense. Being a supervillain doesn't fit you."

     I scoffed. That's not true. "You'll see it makes sense. It's the most fitting, really."

      And I left. I was calm now. I had to do what Henry said and forget everything Jude said. Jude will see me on TV. He'll see the things I do tonight.

     Then he won't say I'm not a bad person. He probably won't even look at me.