Super Powereds: Year 1 (66 page)

“And yet your name is on the sheet all the same. I suspect you’ll have to buck up and have some fun anyway,” Angela said.

Shane stared at her. Of course she had put his name on the sheet. She undoubtedly had some other plan should he try to cancel his place as well. Likely several others for different contingencies.

“Why is it mandatory I attend?”

“Because it’s one of the best parts of being a freshman. One of the few good ones, actually. Plus it is tons of fun, and I think you could use that,” Angela explained.

“There is training to do,” Shane countered.

“With whom? Nearly everyone worth fighting will be on the river. Even your sparring buddy Chad signed up,” Angela said.

“Did he sign up, or is his name on the sheet?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. You might find him less receptive to your machinations than I am,” Shane pointed out.

“Nope, he agreed to go willingly,” Angela said. “I just had to motivate him.”

“Threats?”

“Promised I would give him a match if he went.”

“Ah,” Shane said. “That would do it. I suppose you have me over a barrel then.”

“I always do,” Angela replied. “Try to just go with it and enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see it,” Angela said.

“That is probably the best strategy.”

Angela patted him on the shoulder. “That much I already know.”

“Was there anything else?” Shane asked.

“Just that.”

“So I can go now?”

Angela waved him off. “Go, train, be boring. But come next weekend you better be prepared for some relaxation, little brother.”

“I’m bigger than you,” Shane replied instinctively.

“But not better,” she countered with a wicked grin. “Remember, fun is not the enemy.” With that she sauntered off toward her own class.

Shane continued drudging forward, a foul mood descending over him. If he was losing spring break that meant he needed to work extra hard this week. It was all well and good to preach the benefits of having fun and enjoying oneself, but those speeches could only be made by the one standing at the top of hill.

Shane looked dearly forward to tossing down a few himself.

Eventually.

117.

“So come on, be brutal,” Alice said, turning around slowly.

“Honest opinion?” Mary asked.

“Absolutely.”

“It seems to show an awful lot of skin,” Mary replied.

“That’s the point. But does it cross the line between ‘Look at this hot body’ skin and ‘I have no self-respect and gain all my sense of value through your ogling stares’ skin?”

“You might be leaning a little bit toward the latter,” Mary said.

“Hmm, I’ll put it in the maybe pile then,” Alice said. She stepped into her bathroom and shut the door. A moment later she emerged in sweat pants and a t-shirt with a small amount of pink fabric between her hands. “Next I’ll try the green one.”

It was the night before the river trip, and Alice had more or less (more) bullied Mary into helping her choose some appropriate swimwear. It was far from the way Mary wanted to spend her first night of vacation, but she knew Alice was feeling a bit insecure about being the only girl from their group going on the trip.

“I still can’t believe you’re skipping this,” Alice said as she rifled through her dresser. “It’s going to be the event of the year.”

“I’ll hear all about it secondhand,” Mary said. “I’m sure people’s heads will be swimming with memories of this for weeks to come. As for actually experiencing it, I think I would enjoy that significantly less.”

“I know, I know. The party thing isn’t your scene. Still, it won’t be as much fun without you.”

Mary laughed. “I sincerely doubt many people will notice my absence. In fact, if the levels of alcohol provided are anywhere close to what I’ve heard, I doubt they’ll notice much of anything.”

“I don’t think it will be that bad. I mean, it’s not like most of us have much practice drinking. My money says everyone talks a big game and then only has, like, a beer each,” Alice said.

To this Mary could only nod. It would have taken her far too long to explain to Alice the extent to which hormone-driven youths in scanty clothing would leap upon as effective a social lubricant as alcohol. So instead she changed the subject.

“This seems like an awful lot of effort just to decided what swimsuit to wear while floating motionless in a tube,” Mary pointed out. “Someone specific you’re hoping to impress?”

“Don’t be silly,” Alice lied. Out of courtesy Mary pretended not to be aware of the man who dashed through her mind at that question. “It’s just our first time in a really relaxed, social setting. You never know who you might hit it off with.”

“I see, you’re trying to look good just in case you strike up an enjoyable connection with a boy,” Mary said.

“I was looking at it more as chumming the waters and seeing who comes for a bite, but your version sounds much nicer,” Alice said.

“Yours does have an almost predatory tinge to it,” Mary said.

“Maybe mine was better, then,” Alice chuckled. “Still can’t believe you’re not at least curious to see all the boys in their swim trunks. Don't you want to see who’s a hottie and who’s a nottie?”

“I have faith I will receive a diligent report on that information once you have returned,” Mary said.

“That is an excellent point,” Alice yielded. “Aha!”

Alice’s hands emerged victorious from the dresser with a swath of dark green fabric. She promptly walked back into the bathroom and shut the door. She stepped back out a few minutes later.

“So?” Alice asked tentatively.

“You look like you’re one fast movement away from tumbling out of it,” Mary assessed quite accurately.

“Really?”

“The adjective I think best describes it is ‘bursting,’” Mary said.

Alice looked down at herself. “Bursting, huh? I can work with that. Another for the maybe pile.”

* * *

“All right boys, from the top,” Nick announced. “Swimsuits?”

“Check,” said Hershel, glancing in his bag for visual confirmation.

“Check,” Vince echoed.

“Towels?” Nick asked.

“Check,” Hershel and Vince popped off in unison.

“Sunscreen?”

“Check,” Vince said.

“Roy doesn’t really burn, so I didn’t bother picking any up. Plus he likes to tan,” Hershel said.

“Fair enough, power-based immunity invalidates need,” Nick judged. “Flip-flops?”

“Check,” Vince said.

“In multiple styles,” Hershel added.

“Good stuff,” Nick said. “Novelty beer drinking helmets?”

“Check,” Hershel said.

“Yeah, it’s in there, but I still don’t see why I need to bring one when I don’t even drink,” Vince protested.

“Vince, your objections were heard, considered, and overruled earlier in the night. Let’s not revisit old business,” Nick said.

Vince looked over to Hershel for backup.

“In all fairness, they were,” Hershel pointed out.

“Fine,” Vince mumbled. “Check.”

“Good man. Sleeping bags?”

“Check,” Vince and Hershel sounded off together.

“Tents?”

“Check.”

“Flashlights?”

“Check.”

“Case of condoms?”

“Check,” Hershel snapped off in rhythm.

“Wait, what?” Vince yelped.

“Case of condoms. Come on Vince, try and keep up,” Nick chastised him.

“Why would I need condoms for a river trip? And why a case of them?”

“Vince, be logical. We’re spending a few days with beautiful, fit women who’ve had little outlet for all their pent-up frustrations over the course of the year. Add into that the remote setting, not to mention the tremendous amount of booze being bussed in, and can you really not imagine how it might be better to be prepared and have a condom than to make a mistake in the heat of the moment?” Nick asked him.

“I guess I can see some logic behind that,” Vince admitted. “But again, why a case?”

Nick shrugged. “Aim for the stars?”

Vince glanced over at Hershel.

“What? You think I’m arguing with him? Remember, I’m packing all this stuff for Roy. The last thing I want is to explain to people how my alter ego knocked someone up and that’s why I technically have a kid,” Hershel said. “I packed two cases, just in case.”

Vince sighed. “Okay, okay, points have been made. Let’s just keep going.”

“Fine by me,” Nick said. “Where was I? Ah, there we go, after the condoms. Insect spray?”

“Check.”

“First aid kits?”

“Check.”

“Chocolate-flavored body spread?”

“Oh come on!”

And so the night went.

118.

The parking lot was a celebration in itself. Freshmen were gathering here to obtain directions for driving out to the trip’s starting point, then lingering around to greet friends as they joined the commotion. What began as a few cars stocked with students clutching maps soon escalated to nearly the entire first-year population of the HCP. Thankfully, most of them were carpooling; otherwise there never would have been enough room for everyone.

“I think that’s everything,” Vince said, surveying Nick’s trunk.

“Your stuff, my stuff, Alice’s stuff, Alex’s stuff, and Will’s sister’s stuff?” Nick asked.

“Yup, we’ve got a full house,” Vince confirmed.

“Also, my name is Jill,” Jill added in.

“Just ignore him,” Alice advised her. “He remembers, he just likes being difficult.”

Jill shrugged. “Whatever. He’s driving us all down, that makes up for a little annoyance.”

“The day is young,” Alice mumbled under her breath.

Vince turned away from the trunk and faced his girlfriend. “Sure you don’t want to ride with us? We could have someone sit in a lap to make room.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Sasha replied, patting him on the chest. “I have, like, zero patience for sitting in cars. It bugs me to spend hours doing something I can do in minutes.”

“It won’t be as fun without you,” Vince said.

“Damn straight it won’t,” she agreed. “I’ll be waiting when you guys arrive, though. So drive fast.”

“That’s more up to Nick than me,” Vince pointed out.

“I assure you, I’m properly motivated to make haste,” Nick chimed in. “It’s time spent cramped in my car on the highway versus time spent floating down a river with a cold drink in my hand.”

“Hear, hear,” Alex echoed.

“Sounds like the matter is well in hand,” Vince told Sasha.

“Then I’ll see you there,” Sasha said, planting a peck on his lips. There was a blur and a blast of wind and she was gone.

“I still think there’s a bit of room left,” Vince said after he’d recovered from Sasha’s speedy exit. “Jill, are you sure Will doesn’t want to come?”

“Positive,” Jill assured him. “That’s really not his scene. Besides, he says he has some project he wants to work on during the break. Trust me; my brother is way happier with his nose in a book than his body in a swimsuit.”

“To each his own,” Alex surmised. “I take it Her- I mean, Roy is making his own way there?”

“Took off on his motorcycle this morning,” Vince supplied. “Said he would have someone text him the directions when they were handed out.”

“At least he showed a little forethought in that regard,” Alice said. “I suppose progress is progress.”

“On that note, I suggest we ‘progress’ our butts into the car so we can get on the road,” Nick said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not really feeling spending my day in the parking lot when there’s an aquatic option just a few hours down the road.”

* * *

Roy fed his steel pony some gas and picked up the gallop. He was racing down the highway, sunglasses on his face, duffel bag slung across his back, and helmet nowhere to be seen. Sure, some cop might bust his balls, but one quick demonstration would show that in a battle between Roy and concrete, concrete was going to get its shit wrecked.

His phone vibrated on his side and Roy whipped it into view. It was a text from Julia letting him know the exact location they were starting at today, along with flowery language about looking forward to seeing him. He supposed he did owe her a good deep-dicking for sending him the directions. Plus, she wasn’t boring in bed, even after all these months. There was something to be said for that.

Fast as Roy was going (and to be honest, the speed limit was a distant arbitrary marker for him at this point), he was still utterly smoked a few moments later as something that registered as no more than a blur tore past him and kicked up a tremendous gust of wind.

Roy coughed on the dust that had been stirred up before choking out the word “Bitch.” He pulled back harder on his throttle and ripped further past the speed limit, aware that he had zero chance of beating the girl who’d dashed past him and equally aware that he was going to try anyway.

* * *

“I think we’re ready to go,” Dean Blaine said as the last of the freshman drove out of the parking lot.

“About time,” Angela said, walking over and stretching her back, resulting in a series of popping sounds. “You’d think when your choices are cruising the water and sitting in a parking lot people wouldn’t lag so much in the latter.”

“They were relaxing with their friends,” Ben pointed out. “We did the same last year.”

“Speak for yourself,” Angela countered. “By this time I was already three beers deep and topless.”

“There’s no way you were already on the river by this time last year,” Ben said.

“I don’t think I claimed I was,” Angela replied with a coy smile.

“Such a wonderful thing for the dean to hear about the female half of his chaperones,” Dean Blaine sighed.

“Look at it this way, I know all the stupid crap they’re likely to try,” Angela said.

“I suppose we’ll call that a silver lining and just breeze past it,” Dean Blaine said. “Now, you two remember how this works?”

“Sure,” Ben said. “We meet them at the start point, unload the river cruising gear, and pile all their stuff on the bus in its place. Then we give them tubes and outfit them with copious amounts of alcohol. One of the local staff drives the bus to the campsite and we cruise the river with them to make sure everything is okay. That night we camp and feed them. The next day is pretty much rinse and repeat, and so on until we come home.”