Hero-Type Part 20

The reflection of me in the mirror has tears running down its cheeks. He wipes his eyes, and the motion draws my attention to one of the pictures. Leah, in a black and pink striped top with black skirt and boots. G.o.d. Just standing there. Sort of gazing at the camera like she's not sure how to gaze at the camera. Not smiling; not scowling. Not doing much of anything. Just...there.

Not particularly beautiful. I guess that's why t.i.t was surprised when I mentioned her. I have to tell the truth-she's not the hottest girl at South Brook. Not even the hottest girl in the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s. She's a little too plump, probably, and her face is a little crooked, and she doesn't really do much with her hair.

But here's the thing-I don't care. I just don't.

I'm holding the same backpack I used to tape her. It took me a while, but I eventually figured out how to position the camera and how to hold the backpack so that I could tape her while looking like I was just carrying the pack over one shoulder.

The same backpack. My hand finds the hole, the carefully positioned hole.

No camera anymore. And let's all thank G.o.d for that, you know?

I'm no hero.

I say it silently to the monster in the mirror.

He gives me a look that says, If I had a new camera tomorrow, I'd do it all again.

He says, If I had a camera right now, I'd hide it in her bedroom. I'd see everything.

I force myself to turn away and cross the hall to the bathroom. I close the door and sit down on the edge of the tub because suddenly my legs are too weak to hold me up.

G.o.d, what is wrong with me?

This isn't even my second time here. It's more like my fifth. I couldn't drive until recently, but I've known her address almost since the beginning. A couple of weekends, I walked all the way out here to Breed's Grove. Walked here and scoped out the neighborhood. Snuck around in the dark, making endless circuits of the house, trying to figure out...

Oh, G.o.d. Trying to figure out which window was hers. And what...? What would I have done if I'd known?

I let myself cry in Leah's bathroom. I've sullied her so much already, what's the big dif if I get some tears on her bathroom floor?

After a few minutes, I figure Mrs. Muldoon might think I've died in here. I change into my bathing suit and splash cold water on my face to cover up the redness of my eyes.

Then I go back down the hall and turn and go out through some French doors to the pool, like I never did anything wrong. I'm good at pretending.

I feel out of place immediately. The guys are the ones who shove me around. The girls are the ones who ignore me. No one even bothers to look over at me.

There's a table with drinks and snacks on one side of the pool and a DJ is playing old eighties music really loud. They don't notice me, or if they do, they don't show it. I don't know what the h.e.l.l to do. But I know this: I'm going to try to be good. I'm going to try very, very hard to be good.

Leah sees me and comes running over. Now everyone notices me.

She's wearing a green and lavender two-piece. It's modest by bikini standards and Leah isn't even in the top five of the hottest girls at this party, but it's Leah and I devour her with my eyes.

"Look! Kevin's here!" she calls out, so of course everyone looks and it's like a stalker's worst nightmare-everyone watching him as he watches.

She throws her arms around me, and I'm way too aware of the stretches of naked flesh on both sides of the equation-my torso bare, her belly and arms. I pray to G.o.d-please, please- not to let me get an erection. Please.

"You came!" she says. "I'm so glad." And then she kisses me on the cheek and gives me an extra hard squeeze before letting me go. "Drinks and snacks are over there. Mom's getting pizza in, like, an hour."

She grabs my hand and pulls me closer to the pool and the other kids.

"I think you know everyone, right? Great!" She goes off to pour herself something to drink. Yeah, I know everyone. By sight, at least. It's not like we're all chums or anything. And they all sure as h.e.l.l know me-I'm the guy who saved Leah's life, but they don't remember that. All they know is I'm the guy who hates America.

"My brother's over there," says one guy. "Extended his tour. Again."

Great. I don't need this.

"Not tonight!" Leah says, coming back out of nowhere. "We're not talking about stupid politics. We're having fun. We're celebrating. Kevin saved my life and the DA called my parents today and said their case is so strong that they'll probably look for the death penalty."

This is news to me. Some of the guys nod grudging respect my way. They're all thinking, He's such a wuss we could kick his a.s.s easy ... but he did stop that guy.

Yeah, I did. And you all saw it on TV. I watch Leah and I remember sitting next to her on her sofa while Justice! taped us. At one point, she said, "You know, I never believed in destiny or fate. And then Kevin saved me. He was in the right place at the right time. What are the odds? It had to be fate."

I wish that were true. I wish it had been fate and not just me.

And then what I've been dreading happens: John Riordon shows up from around a corner, carrying a Frisbee. "It went into the garage-" he says, before breaking off.

There's a tension in the air. The DJ keeps playing music, but no one's listening. They're all watching. Riordon is more intimidating the less clothes he wears. When he got all dressed up for the morning announcements, you couldn't see the ma.s.sive shoulder muscles, the six-pack abs. He could crush me like a walnut.

"Tell ya what," he says, sauntering over to me. "I'll make you a deal. You don't be a d.i.c.k tonight and I won't call you on it, OK?"

I grind my teeth to keep myself from saying, Shouldn't I be saying that to you?

"Sure, John."

He wings the Frisbee at someone who's just gone flying off the diving board. The guy catches it in midair and flips before cras.h.i.+ng into the pool. "Six points!" Riordon yells, and charges to the pool, and everyone forgets about me.

And what do I do for the next infinite number of hours? Well, as the sun goes down and the Muldoons' outside lighting comes up, I do what I've always done: I watch.

I actually behave myself; I watch people other than Leah. I'm the outsider here. I'm the ugly duckling-there's no way around that. So I just watch and I try to stay uninvolved. I'm only here because Leah wants me here...

And because the Council is, right now, doing something that I can't afford to be involved in. Because everyone will come to me, a.s.suming I did it. Which is close-it was my idea, but...

Just then-as if it's magic-my backpack rings.

I left the backpack near the door when I came outside. I dig inside for Fam's cell, which she loaned to me.

Flip's voice comes through, more excited than I've ever heard before-and that's saying something.

"Hail, Fool. Dude, it's done."

"Hail, Fool. How did it go?"

"Awesome." He giggles.

"Did you call the fire department?"

"Yeah, right before I called you."

"From a pay phone?"

"How stupid do you think I am, Kross?"

"Sorry. Cool. I'll see you Monday."

"Don't forget-you owe me now."

"I know."

I put the phone back, suddenly worried that someone has overheard both ends of the conversation. But no one is even looking at me. No one's paying attention. Good.

Right about now, the Brookdale Fire Department is rus.h.i.+ng to South Brook High. What they will find there-planted in the gra.s.sy pad in the middle of the bus turnaround, visible from the main road-is five jerry-rigged flagpoles, each one bearing a burning flag.

Five flags, all aflame.

Norway. Sweden. Canada. Australia. Denmark.

If Flip did everything right, he also videotaped the burning flags before calling the fire department. He'll hack and spam the video to the usual suspects, with superimposed text: GUESS WHAT THESE FLAGS HAVE.

IN COMMON WITH THE FLAG.

OF THE UNITED STATES?.

That ought to get some attention. I think Dad would be proud, sort of. If I ever dared tell him it was my idea.

"Hey! Hey, you! Goofy-a.s.s!"

I realize whoever it is is calling out to me. I must have a h.e.l.l of a grin on my face.

"Me?" I ask. It's some jock, pointing to me from the pool.

"Yeah, you. Go get the Frisbee."

Why me? I frown. I'm not his slave.

"Come on," he says. "It went right around the corner there."

Oh, what the h.e.l.l. It'll give me something to do.

I get up and go around the corner. It's darker here. No one can really see here from the party. I have a moment where I wonder if this is a setup, if someone's gonna jump me...

But then I see the Frisbee on the ground. I stoop to pick it up and then I hear a breath, caught fast.

I peek past some bushes.

And that's when I see it.

See them.

Leah and Riordon, off in their own little world.

Only this time it's worse than it ever was in school. She says something like, "...have to get back," but he's holding her by the wrists.

And I can't turn away, of course. I just can't. Because I watch. That's what I do.

Do I jump over the bushes? Do I rescue her again?

She's pulling away, but he tugs a little bit and she comes back and groans and presses herself against him and I've read this all wrong and she kisses him right on the lips. Hard.

My heart's hammering. I turn away, hiding in the darkness halfway between the bushes and the corner that turns back to the pool. G.o.d, I was so stupid! Did I think she was going to fall in love with me or something? With her "hero"? Was I that stupid?

Yeah. I'm dumber than I thought. I'm a complete moron. I'm a drooling r.e.t.a.r.d. I kept telling myself I didn't think that, but deep down, I did. Deep down, I wanted it. What an a.s.s I am.

So screw it. Just screw it. There's no point in pretending.

No point in trying to be good anymore.

Before Leah and Riordon can come around the bushes, I dart back to the pool area. I toss the Frisbee to the guy in the pool, but it's a terrible, wobbly throw that gets everyone laughing. I ignore them and go straight back into the house.

I take a deep breath. I congratulate myself for not staying to watch Leah make out with Riordon even more. That's been the cure all along, Kross. Just see her with another guy.

But it's not the cure, and I know it. Because I know what I'm going to do before I do it.

"Are you guys OK for punch out there, Kevin?" It's Mrs. Muldoon. She came right up to me while I was lost in my thoughts.

"I think they need some more," I lie. I'm not sure, but I need to get rid of her.

"Is everything OK?" she asks, her brow all wrinkly with worry.

"Yeah, I just need to go to the bathroom."

But as soon as she disappears outside to check on the punch, I'm down the hall and turning right, not left.

I don't even hesitate. I just grab the picture. The one I saw before, of Leah in her pink and black outfit. My heart hammers.

I shove the picture in the pocket of my bathing suit.

A minute later, I'm back outside like nothing's happened. I grab my backpack.