The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) (34 page)

“
Off
.” I point to the floor and glare at Xavier as he tries to get up on the bed for the hundredth time. It’s only eight o’clock, but apparently that’s when Xavier has to go to bed. And he has to have the lights on, all night. And even though Grandma got out a little air mattress for him, he keeps trying to get into the bed. It’s nowhere near my bedtime, but after what Mom said about him having “accidents,” I’m not taking any chances by leaving the bed unguarded.

Xavier scowls. His “big-boy diaper” makes crinkling sounds as he slumps down on his mattress. “That’s
my
bed. I could tell Grandma you’re not allowed to use it.”

“Yeah? Good luck with that.” I keep scrolling through Facebook on my phone. Kat posted a new pic of First Mate Suckers. He’s at a seafood restaurant, staring longingly at a framed photo of a boat on the wall. I hesitate before clicking
like
, but then I decide being off the grid is overrated. Not that I’m really off the grid, anyway, since I called Gordon my second day here to let him know I’m not dead.

And by “called Gordon,” I mean I dialed the house phone during the middle of the day, when I knew no one would be home, and left a message on the machine. I didn’t tell him where I was, because I don’t need him trying to track down where my grandparents live, but I said I was safe and doing okay.

“If you’re not nicer to me,” Xavier says, “I’m not going to invite you to my birthday party.”

“I’ll take that deal.”

His mouth falls open, like that was the last thing he expected me to say.

My phone chimes and a new text pops up. I don’t recognize the sender, and obviously it’s not anybody already in my phone, because then it would say a name.

Your friends are worried about you.

What? I start to type
Who the hell is this?
but before I can finish, a new message comes in.

This is Mason, btw.

Rage floods my chest, and lightning burns beneath my skin. Riley’s new-old BFF is seriously texting me to tell me my friends are worried about me? They should be worried about
him
, because if I ever see him again, I’m pretty sure I’ll murder him.

“You’re going to be sorry if you miss my birthday,” Xavier says in his shrill, annoying voice.

I ignore him and write,
How did you get this number??

From Ry. He’s worried about you. Zach is, too. And they know I’m an experienced mediator.

I have so many things to say to that. So many that I just sit there, fuming, trying to figure out where to start. I mean, seriously, who does he think he is? Just because he’s best friends with “Ry” doesn’t mean he’s allowed to text me and say all this crap. And bringing Zach into it? Zach doesn’t even like Mason, and I can’t picture him asking for his help. Mason just wants me to think that I’m so awful, even Zach is desperate to find some way to deal with me. Which would never happen. Not in a million years.

Right?

“We’re going to have a pony,” Xavier goes on. “With blue hair. And only I get to ride it.”

“Ponies don’t have blue hair. And your birthday’s not for over half a year, so shut up about it.”

“They do, too! If I want them to, they do. And my birthday’s in a couple
weeks
. I’m going to be six months old.”

His birthday’s in a couple weeks?
My
birthday’s in a couple weeks.

If Zach and Riley want to talk to me,
I write,
they can text me themselves.

“If you miss my party, you won’t get to see the pony. And you won’t get to watch me and my friends play in the bouncy castle.”

I look up from my phone long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. “What friends?” There’s no way Xavier has friends. And if he does, while I have to be “mediated” by this douchebag because my friends don’t know how to talk to me anymore, I’m going to be seriously pissed.

Another text comes in from Mason.

They tried, but you wouldn’t answer. I told them you’re going through a tough time right now—running away from home is a high-stress event, similar to a bad breakup or having to start over at a new school. You’ve obviously got some trauma going on in your life, and they’re hurt by your actions, so I’m stepping in to make things right.

The only way he could even remotely make things right is if he steps
off
and leaves all of us alone.

“My
friends
,” Xavier says, as if that explains everything. “I have lots of them.”

“Imaginary ones don’t count.”

His nostrils flare, and he clenches his fists and stands up on his air mattress. “My friends are real!”

Sure they are. Xavier supposedly has a bunch of friends, who somehow put up with him and would still come to his birthday, even though he’s the only one who gets to ride the pony? “How much does Mom have to pay them to hang out with you?”

He totally misses my meaning. “Everyone gets a party-favor bag. With candy and a toy pony.”

So they can remember the one they didn’t get to ride?

Are you still there, Damien?
Mason writes.
I know this is hard for you, but that’s why I’m here. Talk to me. The healing process can’t begin until you express your true feelings.

Baaaarf. God, I hate him so much. I open up my contacts list and find Riley. I’m about to text him when I think better of it and dial his number instead. This calls for telling him off in real time.

“I have a birthday party every month.” Xavier’s creeping toward the bed again, as if I won’t notice. I wish I had a spray bottle. “Because I’m growing up so big and strong.”

Ugh. I pretend I don’t hear him and listen to the phone ringing instead, willing Riley to pick up. If he doesn’t, I’m going to be so pissed at him. It’s already not cool that he gave Mason my number, and now he doesn’t even have the decency to answer his phone when I call to tell him where he can shove it?

“X?” Riley sounds almost skeptical.

“What the hell, Perkins?!”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “You’re okay.”

“No, I’m not ‘okay.’ You want to know why? Wait, he’s not there with you, is he?”

“Who?”

“Oh,
come on
. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Xavier makes a noise that I can only guess is supposed to be him clearing his throat. He screeches extra loud, trying to talk over my conversation. “I was telling you about my birthday party! You’re supposed to listen!”

I plug my other ear with my finger. “This is unforgivable. You gave Mason my phone number!”

“Unforgivable? You mean like you running away from home? You just left everyone, X! And then you wouldn’t even answer your phone.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to get Mason involved!”

“It got you to call me, didn’t it?” There’s a smile in his voice. A smug one.

Damn it. I consider hanging up on him.

“Last time,” Xavier says, “I had a Samurai Squids party. Like the show. They live underwater, and—”

“I
know
what Samurai Squids is.” It used to be my favorite cartoon when I was a kid. I didn’t realize it was still on TV. They must air the reruns. “I had a Samurai Squids party, too.” I can’t help sounding defensive. But I hate that we have something in common, and I hate that Mom lets him watch my favorite TV show from back in the day. It feels like when she gave him Damien II, my teddy bear, like my childhood doesn’t matter to her and she really does want him to replace me.

“I used to watch that show,” Riley says on the phone. “I had all the action figures.”

“Me, too. But don’t think you can distract me from what you did. Giving Mason my number is never okay.”

“I just wanted you to stop avoiding me. I figured you wouldn’t answer my texts, but getting Mason involved would piss you off so much you’d finally call me back.”

“And what if it hadn’t?”

“Then I would have had to rely on his excellent mediator skills.”

I
think
he’s joking. At least, he’d better be.

Xavier’s still trying to tell me about his stupid birthday party. “We had a Samurai Squids tablecloth, and paper plates, and a pin-the-tentacle on the squid game. I won, ‘cause I’m the best.”

I had all those things, too. Mom must have reused the stuff from my party, even though it’s all ten years old. And made of paper. How cheap is that? And he thinks she’s getting him a pony and a bouncy castle next month?

“So,” I say to Riley, “what you’re telling me is you
used
your best friend?”

“I wasn’t using you. Maybe I manipulated you a little bit, but I was just trying to get you to talk to me.”

“No, I meant Mason.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and then he clears his throat. Gearing up to tell me that
I’m
his best friend, not that douchebag, I hope. “I told him there was a chance that you hearing from him would get us talking again.”

“He was
in on it
?” I can’t believe this.

“I wouldn’t say it like that.”

“How would you say it? That you and your new best friend conspired against me? Is that how you’d put it?!”

“Hey. You were the one who disappeared and wouldn’t answer any of my messages. And I didn’t tell him you’d call because you’d be pissed. I said that reaching out like this might get through to you. That’s all.”

Xavier climbs up onto the bed. His diaper actually grazes my arm, and he gives me this nasty smile, like he’s just daring me to tell him to get down again. I wish I was back home, where all I have to deal with is telling Amelia to turn down her TV. Or at Kat’s dorm, where there aren’t any siblings at all.

“Get off the bed.
Now
.”

Either he can’t feel the electric charge building up in the air, or he’s willing to risk getting shocked, because he doesn’t move. “We also had a Samurai Squids
cake
. It was shaped like a rectangle, but it had a drawing of a squid on it. Except one of its legs was missing, because the idiot at the bakery doesn’t know how many legs they have.”

Something about that sounds really familiar, and then I remember that I had a Samurai Squids cake at my party, exactly as he described. One of its legs was missing, and Mom complained that whoever was working at the grocery-store bakery was an idiot.

Something weird is going on. Mom might have saved all the party stuff from way back when, but how could she have gotten the exact same cake?

“I get why you left,” Riley says. “And I get why you were ignoring everyone’s calls. But you don’t have to, okay?”

“You didn’t have to get Mason involved.”

“You kind of proved that I did.”

Xavier pokes me. When I don’t respond, he does it a bunch of times in a row, until I get fed up and grab his hand. There’s a spark when I do, and he whines and starts squealing.

“Get
down
.”

“Noooo! Let me go!” He squirms and kicks, making horrible high-pitched noises. I drag him off the bed, in case all this struggling causes him to have one of his “accidents.” “I just wanted to tell you about my birthday party!”

“Yeah, right.” To Riley, I say, “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. First you ditch me for Mason, and now you get him to trick me into calling you.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be a trick. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I know you left that message for your dad, but I wanted to hear it for myself. That’s all.”

Xavier’s face is red from his tantrum. He takes short, hiccuping breaths and says, “It was the funnest party ever! I’m glad you weren’t there! Mommy loves me best, so she got me lots of presents. I got a stuffed shark
and
a Samurai Squids underwater playset for the bathtub that came with a gold trading card. And we had so much ice cream, one of my friends threw up and had to go home.”

I sit down and grip the edge of the bed, because it feels like the floor’s falling out from under me. That happened at
my
party, and Mom got me those same presents. They don’t even make the underwater playset anymore, not just because it was limited edition, but because they got recalled, due to some people having an allergic reaction to the plastic they used.

“I have to go,” I tell Riley before hanging up. Then, to Xavier, “I have news for you. Those weren’t your presents. They were mine.” So much for ‘Mommy’ loving him best.

“Nuh-uh. Mommy gave them to me!”

“And the name of the kid who had to go home? It was Kyle, wasn’t it?”

“He’s my friend.”

I’m going to kill Mom. “Nope. He was my friend. That was my party. I had the same stuff, the same cake, and those were my presents.” I knew she was giving him fake memories at night while he sleeps, but I didn’t know they’d be
mine
.

“It was
my
party,” Xavier screeches. “I was there!”

“Were you? Have you ever used the playset?”

“Yes! It’s fun!”

“Yeah? When?”

“I...” He pauses to think about that.

“You’ve never played with it, because it wasn’t yours. It doesn’t exist anymore. And that shark was mine, too. I named him Timothy.” Timothy the Tooth, to be exact—it was his street name.

Xavier’s mouth drops open. “Did Mommy tell you that?”

“She didn’t need to—I was there, not you.” Though she does have a lot of explaining to do. “Mom never threw you a party.”

“Yes, she did! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“She faked it. She used details from one of my birthday parties and made you think it happened to you. You don’t have that playset, and you don’t have Timothy, and you don’t have any friends.”

Xavier’s eyes water. His whole face screws up in a mixture of horror and spite. “You’re jealous! You’re jealous because Mommy loves me best! She
told
me so!”

“She
what
?”

The door bursts open and Grandpa gives us both stern looks. “What’s all the fuss in here?”

“Damien’s being mean!” Xavier wails. “He said Mommy lied about my birthday, but she wouldn’t do that.”

“You’ve known her for five months,” I tell him. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”