The Super 4 : Dark Death Page 6

  “Hi girls. Anyways, Have you guys invited your friends yet?”

  “Just doing it.” We replied.

  We both grabbed our phones and texted our friends. I invited my best friend Alex- she hates the name Alexandra- Jake, Darryl and Harrison.

  Two hours later, though it seemed like longer, happened at The Pizza Place. As kids everyone always had parties at The Pizza Place. It was so much fun!

  Darryl arrived first, then Alex, followed by Harrison and Jake. As soon as they walked in, I waved over a waiter. The guy had shiny black hair and dark deep eyes. He also had a stud earring. Alex practically fell over him. I rolled my eyes.

  “Hi! Can we have five glasses of Sprite and two large pepperoni pizzas?” I asked, putting on my best fake smile.

  “Anything for two beautiful ladies!” He said in a fake Italian accent.

  Alex blushed and flipped her dark hair. She gazed adoringly at him, batting her large green eyes. Her tan skin turned pink, as she smiled and giggled at him.

  “OMG! He’s so cute!” Alex squealed, as he left the table. We all rolled our eyes and sighed. Alex was like this a lot. It was a wonder that she hated drama.

  Ten minutes later, we were digging into the greasy, unhealthy, oily, delicious pizza. We devoured it in less than eight minutes. Darryl would probably say something smarty-pants. Like, we consumed it in seven minutes and forty-eight seconds. Then, he would go on to say that the probability of us eating brownies and ice cream was one hundred percent.

  Alex and I had strawberry, Jake had rocky road and Harrison and Darryl had chocolate.

  Darryl wiped his mouth and cleared his throat before asking, “So, Carly, what’s the special event?”

  “We got our grades back and I got a three point seven four!” I replied, excitedly.

  “Neat! I got a four point o.” Darryl said, with no show-offy tone in his voice.

  I couldn’t help but feel envious at his natural smartness. I brushed my hair out of my face and stared at the floor for a while, before I composed myself.

  “So, you guys, how did you do?” I asked the rest.

  “Okay, I got a three point three” Harrison said.

  “I got a three point two!” Alex said, enviously.

  We looked at Jake expectantly. “Oh. Uh...I got a two point nine! heh...heh…” He trailed off slowly.

  I immediately sensed he was lying, and judging by the looks on Harrison’s and Darryl’s faces, I guessed they knew to. I quickly changed the subject to sports. Alex launched into a full description of her gymnastics performance. I tried to pay attention, but my thoughts kept wandering to Jake. In the end I gave up and just nodded occasionally.

  I pushed him against the wall and stared at him accusingly. “Why did you lie?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jake asked, so innocently I almost believed him. Almost.

  “You know what I’m talking about!” I said furiously.

  “Okay, fine!” He surrendered.

  “So, what did you get?”

  “A 0.12” He said meekly.

  “What!!”

  “Could you say that a bit louder please? I don’t think Chile heard you that well!”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I apologized, lamely. “But are you serious?”

  “No Carly, I’m a giant clam!” He said, frustrated.

  “Be serious!” I yelled.

  “Yes, I got a 0.12! Are you happy now?”

  “OMG! I’m so, so sorry Jake!”

  “It’s okay! I’ll be fine. Harrison’s tutoring me in math!”

  “If you’re sure.” I said, uncertainly.

  “I am!” He replied, a huge fake smile plastered on his face.

  I glanced at him uncertainly. “Okay. If you say so.”

  “Let’s go back to the others!”

  “Okay.”

  We walked back to the others just as Darryl was explaining the habitats of brown bears.

  “You see, scientists do suspect that some grizzly bears still roam around in Washington. However, there is no proof of brown bears inhabiting Washington. So, unless you were visiting the zoo, you wouldn’t see a brown bear in it’s natural habitat. Or in any other habitat.” Darryl said, finishing his lecture on brown bears.

  Alex looked at me, like ‘please save me! I’ll do anything for you.’ I smiled cruelly at her

  From what I gathered, I guessed Harrison had tried to impress Alex with talk about seeing a brown bear in the woods. Then, Darryl scoffed at him, proceeding into a ten minute long lecture about the habitats of brown bears. I stifled a laugh, as I remembered the look on Alex’s face.

  “What are you smiling at, Carly?” Alex asked me.

  “Hmmm?” I asked, before realizing that I must of succeeded in not laughing but failed in not smiling. “Oh, nothing.”

  “If you say so.” She said. We were sitting on my bed talking. “By the way, you know that cute guy we met at the pizza place?”

  “You mean the one you blatantly flirted with?” I asked, sarcastically.

  “Yeah! That’s the one! So, anyways, he asked me out! Like, on a date!”

  “Alexandra Grace Stevens! He’s like, nineteen! You’re like, fourteen! Five years difference!” I shouted.

  “So? We like each other! Besides, my Dad is like nine years younger than my mum.” She said, angrily.

  “Older or younger?” I asked.

  “Older! You know what I mean! You’re just trying to change the subject, ‘cause you’re jealous!”

  “I’m not jealous! Why would I be jealous?”

  “Because I have a boyfriend and you don’t!” She said, sticking out her tongue, like a six-year-old. How immature.

  “Uh...buh...Argh!” I said, angry that I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “You’ve just been chasing Jake around since fourth grade! And by the way dummy that’s the year you came to this school!” She said.

  “Well, don’t come crying to me when it doesn’t work out!” I retorted.

  “Don’t expect me to. And by the way, this little best friend thing is over!” Alex said, her eyes shining with either anger or tears, I couldn’t decide. Maybe both.

  “Fine!”

  “Fine. And don’t bother trying to make up! This isn’t some little fight! I have my life! Don’t try to be some queen, lording everyone about!” Yep, definitely anger.

  “I don’t lord everyone about!” I said, furiously.

  “Do too!”

  “Do not!”

  We fought for a while.

  Alex pulled my hair and I yanked on her ear. We rolled over and clawed at each other.

  Soon, blood was drawn. But we didn’t stop.

  We were still fighting half an hour later when a knock came at the door.

  Alex immediately jumped up and brushed herself down. She took of her hair ribbon and put her bloody nails behind her back. I did the same, but also grabbed a brush and began doing, my hair.

  “Come in!” I called.

  Papa’s red hair poked through the door. “You girls okay?” He asked.

  “We’re fine dad!” I answered.

  “All good, Mr Martinsen!” Alex said, putting on a fake smile.

  “Okay. Alex your Dad is here to pick you up.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She said, leaving the room.

  “Bye.” I said, fighting to make my voice as neutral as possible.

  “Bye.” She responded.

  “Carly, aren’t you going to show your guest to the door?” He asked.

  “Okay, Papa.”

  I walked with Alex to her car. Her dad, Mr. Stevens, worked for O-CoolTech too. There was some bad blood between him and papa, because they were both tied for the third position.

  I looked at papa. His face was drawn into a snarl. I looked at Mr. Stevens. He looked relaxed, but in his eyes I saw a deep hatred. I rolled my eyes, at their silly duel. They were even! Why are they fighting? To prove who’s the better man? This was like cats versus dogs. In the end the d
og wins. But who’s the dog?

  I pondered over this, while Alex got into her car and her Dad drove away. I was still standing on the curb, when a door slamming knocked me back into the real world. I turned around and saw the bright flash of red from the small window on the door.

  I wondered how come he hadn’t told me to come in. Then I realized that he probably thought I was waving goodbye to Alex, as I’d done for four years.

  Well not anymore! I walked into the house with my head held high. I went to my room, opened a page in my diary, and wrote:

  Dear Diary-

  Darryl

  XII

  I raced up the stairs to my apartment on the second floor. I silently turned the lock in my door and slipped inside. I went to my room through the tiny kitchen, tacitly avoiding my mother.

  She dealt with bank robbery. And if you’re wondering how come we don’t live in some mansion, it’s because she’s scared the police will come and get her.

  I actually think the whole thing is really dumb. I mean come on! What’s the point of robbing banks if you don’t use the money? For the hundredth time I wondered if she was secretly a hoarder. But I shook of the thought, imagining her expensive hairdo and clothing. Not to mention her extensively largely bedroom, which included the living room.

  The buzzing of the intercom interrupted my thoughts. I pressed the button.

  “Hello?”

  “Darryl, please come down. We have something to show you.”

  I took the tiny, stuffed elevator down to the ground floor. Two women stood outside.

  “Are you Darryl?” The tall red head asked. When I nodded, she continued. “I’m Detective Caroline Opps and I was looking into a bank robbery. It appears that your mother has been stealing amounts of up to a million dollars at every bank she goes to. So far she’s robbed thirteen banks across the state.”

  I pretended to look shocked. Then the shorter lady, with purple spikes for hair spoke, “I’m Ms. Kidd. I’m a social worker and deal with cases like yours.” She gave me a reassuring smile that did not do its job at all. “You can confide in me.” Then, as if I was a dumb-witted first grader she added, “Confide means trust in. You can tell me anything.”

  I nodded again, still not speaking. “Darryl, we’re here to take you to the Family for Troubled Kids social group. Is that okay?” Opps told me.

  I spoke for the first time. “Can I go get my book?”

  “...What do you mean you’re new?” The dumb pink-haired lady asked.

  I noticed that social workers must love hair dye. “I’m sure I’ve seen you around somewhere!”

  “No, you haven’t!” I said, willing myself not to explode with the frustration welling up inside because of this pink-haired receptionist. “I don’t even have ‘one of those face’! Hello! Amber eyes! Dark skin! Short hair! Open your eyes lady!” I yelled, causing everyone in the room to look at us.

  “Ah! You’re right! I haven’t seen you before!” She said grinning. “Well then what’s your name? Full one please.”

  “Darryl, with a y, Russell Klein.” I said slowly, for her benefit.

  “Okay. Thanks. Here’s a form to fill out.”

  I glanced over the questions. There were basic ones like, your age and your birthday, and there were some that were completely off topic. Like, 'do you prefer tacos to tortillas?' And whether or not you like Captain America.

  Sighing, I reluctantly scribbled and circled answers onto the paper.

  I entered my new room.

  One peek destroyed all my visions of a neat room, filled with books.

  It made pigsties look neat. There was dirty underwear everywhere. On the bunks, on the eighties radio, even on the air conditioner.

  Also, the room was packed. And loud! It was like entering a dance party. Half the lights were off and the latest pop music was pumping out of the stereo. This mixed in with the stench of sweaty teenage boys dancing and dirties underwear, resulted in me wishing I could live in the trash.

  “Why would you want to live in the trash?” Asked a teenager, about a year older than me. He had signs of a beard. I guessed he was south Asian.

  Realizing that I had spoken aloud, I fretted to correct myself. “I said...um...This is a lot better than trash place I used to live in!”

  The boys accepted my answer and carried on. Except for the Asian kid. I saw intelligence beneath his dark brown eyes.

  Waving a strand of black hair out of his face, he came over.

  “Hi!” He said, “I’m Sanjit!”

  “Darryl.” I said, shaking his hand.

  “What grade are you in Darryl?”

  “Eighth.”

  “Really? Me too!”

  I was taken aback by his answer. I was sure he was fifteen. “Really! How old are you?”

  “Twelve.” He said, in a that-is-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world type of voice.

  I was smart, but even I wasn’t twelve in eighth grade. Sure I was in eleventh grade math and English. And in all the other academics. Except for French. In my school we don’t skip grades without one hundred percent in every subject.

  “You look older.”

  “I know!” Sanjit said sadly.

  “Why are you sad?” I asked, astonished that this was bad. I knew how angry Harrison got because he was shorter than everyone else.

  “I have no friends in my school. Everyone in my grade is older than me and they think I’m weird.” He said, crestfallen.

  “Well you do now!” I said, in a fake tone of cheerfulness. I find it hard to make friends, let alone be one. But Sanjit looked so happy I left my thoughts. After all at three forty-five p.m. on June nineteenth I would be officially two years older than him.

  “When’s your birthday?” I asked

  “June eighteenth, at one twenty-two a.m.” He said, proudly.

  “Really!” I asked. Perhaps he was a psychic.

  He nodded. “Why?”

  “Because that means that I’ll never be more than two years older than me.”

  His face lit up. I wondered why he welcomed the fact so greatly. “On Friday’s we have wrestling. No one’s in my age group, so I’m not apart of it.” He said, “I get latrine duty.”

  “Well not anymore!”

  I desperately wanted to go back. I’m not a fighter! And I especially didn’t want to fight my new best friend. But he looked so excited that I reluctantly climbed into my tight fitting wrestler uniform.

  I looked like a tomato. I had on a goofy red helmet, those blue teeth protector things and I was wearing a skintight bright red uniform. It was humiliating.

  I watched the fights, wishing I had Harrison’s melting ability. Or even better, invisibility!

  I stepped on to the makeshift ring. Sanjit had a goofy look on his face. I sighed. Let’s get this over with. I thought. Thomas blew the whistle. His grey eyes looking on in excitement. Sanjit and I circled each other. Then, without any warning he charged.

  I moved to the side. Sanjit ran straight off the mat. I was pleased that I might win without hurting him.

  Thomas blew the whistle once more. This time as soon as the whistle was blown he ran straight at me. I panicked and uselessly held my hands out in front of me.

  I was down on the ground before I knew it.

  I was ashamed.

  In the final round, after the whistle was blown, I circled Sanjit quickly. I randomly went in opposite directions, hoping to confuse him. Instead, my head felt dizzy and just before I stumbled, Sanjit ran over and pinned me to the ground. I distantly heard the sound of Thomas saying, “One…. Two…Three! You’re out!” But my head was too far away to pay attention. I remember Sanjit getting off me. After that there was blank nothingness.

  I woke up on a stinky bed that smelled of urine. I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to rid myself of the spell of nausea and dizziness. The nurse noticed that I was awake and came over.

  Her nametag read: KATE

  My first thought of her was that sh
e was the first person without dyed hair since I got here. My second thought was wow! Her black, shiny hair was done in a bob form, and her silver eyes were like two full moons. When she spoke it was like listening to a hundred mice squeak at the same time.

  “Good to see you’re awake!” She squeaked. “Those wrestling matches must end!!” She rubbed her temples, as if she had a headache. “Every day! Concussions, broken legs, bruised butts! Do I need to go on?”

  I shook my head. My mind was trying to process what she said. Concussions? Broken legs? This couldn’t be the Family for Troubled Kids.

  “OH this isn’t the FTK by the way,” She said, as if reading my mind, “We’re at Hope Hospital.”

  “Wait the hospital?” I asked, astonished.

  She laughed in a sort of hyena way, “Of course silly! Tabitha couldn’t handle an unconscious boy!”

  “Wait!” I said, “I was unconscious?”

  “Well of course!” She squeaked. “What do you think happened?”

  To be honest, I had no idea. I couldn’t remember a thing. “I don’t know.” I said.

  “I would expect so.”

  “I’m hungry!” I said, suddenly recognizing my hurting stomach, for pangs of hunger.

  “Well I would think so!” She admonished. “What being knocked out for two days!”

  “What!” I had sudden fumes of anger towards Sanjit.

  But my anger was quickly replaced by my desperation for food, as she placed a giant plate of food in front of me. It was loaded with roast potatoes, two giant chicken drumsticks, a handful of vegetables and a lake of gravy slathered on top.

  Usually I would of turned my nose at the vegetables, but this time I was so hungry I didn’t care.

  I piled food into my mouth. I was soon done and asking for a second helping.

  In the end, I had eaten three helpings of food and six cups of chocolate milk.

  Sighing contently, I laid back into a sleeping position.

  But a boy interrupted my visions of sleep.

  He poked his head inside the door and I caught a flash of black hair and a glimpse of dark brown eyes.