Code 22

Henry Best catches up with a friend.

Cerise didn’t have a chance to ask another question. A code 22 next door forced the whole block to evacuate. The team manager, Ms. Frend, would surely reschedule my torture session, but for now I was off the hook.

I turn my cell back on. There's a message from August: Party at Maury's. 10:00. No show not an option. I groan. The music will be too loud, the air will reek of booze, Mia will follow me around the whole time.

Ms. Frend believes in a complex series of dress codes for each occasion. I’ll need to go back to the headquarters and change. I wander away from the crowd, ignoring whispers of “do you think they’ll kill him?” and “what a pain”. Two blocks later, I spot Damian across the street. He ducks into an alley.

I cross at the lights, walk longways around the block, and follow him off the sidewalk. The alley is narrow, with plenty of mystery puddles and missing chunks of brick. A street light beyond the corner lends just enough light for me to see him.

Damian leans against the wall in such a way that his leather jacket hangs straight down, but his back is at an angle. He probably thinks that looks cool. A small mirror is in his hand and he is inspecting his stubbly hair.

"If you keep watching it, your 'fro' will never grow back," I say, throwing him a smile.

"Hey man. Don't disrespect my heritage, you know?" He swings an arm around my shoulder for a split second embrace.

“Business or pleasure?” I ask.

“Can’t it be both?”

I roll my eyes. “Business then.”

“You almost blew it. She saw disaster at the last minute. We had to get you out of there.”

“The code 22?” I ask.

Damian nods. “We had Shirly do her out-of-control telekinetic act. Don’t worry I got her out in time.”

“Ms. Frend will reschedule the interview. What then?”

“The interviewer is only asking about your past because it’s the only interesting thing she knows about you. Distract her with something more interesting and you’ll be fine.”

“Henry leads a pretty boring life.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Saving lives and partying it up? So boring.”

I laugh. God it’s been a month since I’ve laughed.

Damian hands me a magazine. The Tomlin siblings grace the front page. I blush.

“She’s supposed to interview me about me. I can’t just talk about famous people instead.”

“But you see Ms. Interviewer,” Damian mimics in an insulting falsetto. “When I was a boy I saw little Tomlin give that speech on TV and was so moved. Do you think I’ll ever meet them? Maybe even - date?”

I punch Damian just under his left ribs. It knocks the breath of him, but I avoided hitting any burns.

“I yield. I yield.” Damian holds up one hand and starts texting with the other. “Just let me tell her I delivered the message.”

"I've got to go to another party at Maury's. It's a Shield of Six thing, so it's going to be pretty lame," I pause, waiting for him to finish. I hear the beep and whoosh of a sent message. "But do you want to come?"

"Lame?" Damian pockets his cell.

"Yeah, it's going to suck. I don't like any of them. They don't get it." I lean next to Damian on the wall.

"No, you don't get it.”

"Huh?" I don't know why he's being weird.

"Lame is offensive," Damian squeezes the words out through his clenched jaw.

"To who?" I ask, wracking my brain for what I'd done wrong. I turn to see civilians lingering at the mouth of the alley. I half remember Ms. Frend listing lame as a 'no-no' in her addressing the public lecture. It's buried under so many other offensive terms I've forgotten what its offense is.

"This isn't the place for this." I grab Damian's shoulder. "I'm sorry I upset you."

Damian shrugs me off and slides against the wall a few inches. "You didn't upset me. I'll catch up to you later."

“I’ll see you at Maury’s?”

With a twist and a pop Damian teleports, leaving me alone in the alley.

I uncap the water bottle, inhale its contents, and chuck the carcass to the back of the alley. I'm pissed he made me feel like I did something wrong. He's forgetting I'm the one who saved us all. I'm the one who's putting the most on the line.

I hear a fire truck and smile. I'm not a disaster-nut I swear. It's been a few days since I've had an excuse to use my ability is why.