Free Sidekicked by John David Anderson Page B

acute vision is blurry, and somehow I’ve managed to sleep through my mother’s coffee grinder. Today I actually wake to the sound of her voice telling me it’s after seven and I’m going to be late for school and am I feeling okay?
    I’m not, actually, though I don’t tell her that. I’m running on less than four hours of sleep. I was up all night reading Julius Caesar and finishing my presentation on Hannibal for history class. Those two megalomaniacs carried me well past midnight.
    The hours from one to two had been spent staring up at my ceiling and counting the crags and crevices in its stucco, thinking about all the things I should have said back at the bar, if there was anything I could have said that would have pulled him off that stool. I didn’t come up with anything. Though I did think of several things that probably would have gotten my face smashed in.
    The hours from two to three had been spent listening to infomercials from Mrs. Polanski’s too-loud television next door, learning about the wonderful, specially formulated stain-fighting power of Vamoose. Finally, around three fifteen, I fell asleep and dreamed about the Titan being slowly lowered into a pit of poisonous piranhas somehow swimming in a pool of molten lava, with no one around to rescue him.
    And somewhere in there—before midnight, I guess—Jenna called. She was busy finishing her report on the sack of Troy. She wanted to know if I thought Hannibal could defeat Achilles in a one-on-one death match. I said it probably depended on what kind of shoes Achilles was wearing.
    â€œI saw the Titan today,” I told her.
    It was a lot more than I should have said, I know. It was more than he would have wanted me to say, but I needed to tell someone. And wasn’t he the one who told me the Code was just a bunch of hokum?
    There was a long pause. When she spoke again, she sounded hesitant, skeptical. “Wow. I didn’t think anyone even knew where he was.”
    â€œYeah. He kind of wants to keep it that way,” I said. There was silence on the other end. I took it as my cue to continue. “He looked terrible. All pale and pasty. And he smelled . . . I don’t know, just stale .”
    â€œDisgusting,” she said. “Where did you find him?”
    â€œI probably shouldn’t say,” I told her, finally drawing the line. “Besides. It doesn’t matter anyways.” She said she understood, but I could tell she was disappointed. There were very few secrets between us, but I didn’t want her doing anything crazy, like trying to go talk to him herself. I didn’t trust him. Didn’t know how he would react.
    â€œDoes he know what happened yesterday, at least?”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “He told me I should go save myself for a change.”
    â€œWhat a loser.” Jenna groaned, then quickly backtracked. “Sorry, Drew. I know how much it meant to you . . . working with him.”
    I thought about the tire around the Titan’s waist. The glazed look in his eyes. I’m not sure he could have saved me if he’d wanted to. “Mr. Masters told me to give him time.”
    â€œYeah, Gavin said he saw you two talking at H.E.R.O. and that Mr. Masters looked concerned.”
    I paused. “When did you talk to Gavin?” About me, I wanted to add.
    â€œToday after track practice. He walked me home.”
    â€œOh,” I said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œYou told me you had something to do after school, and I didn’t want to walk home alone after what happened yesterday, so I asked him to come.”
    â€œ You asked him ?” For some reason, I assumed it was the other way around.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œNo. That’s good,” I said, coughing to try and cover my lie. “I’m glad. I mean, the guy can sweat limestone.”
    â€œGranite.”
    â€œRight.