Sidekick Anonymous

Ch. 8

[Wednesday – Night]

It was a very awkward meeting. Basil and Iam sat quietly in the lobby while Matt and Mr. Azure made the proper arrangements for a non to take official shelter with an SA agent. This meant monitoring a sort of perimeter around the non, awareness of contact with or from anyone. There was a good chance Danica would be updated on Iam's location from time to time; if not, she would personally surveil him.

Being discussed from behind closed doors made Iam feel weird. "I feel like I'm being adopted."

Basil snorted.

This wasn't the first time someone had to hide out with the Azures. It was often uncomfortable having a stranger staying at the house, but Iam seemed different. Basil already felt like he could get along with him; he at least talked to him like an equal, like Fiona did, and not as some kid. His only concern, of course, was something terrible happening to him while he stayed over.

Matt's door opened and Mr. Azure popped out, closing the door behind him. "Ready to get some of your stuff?"

Iam stood to meet him. "Is that really safe?"

"Sure it is. I'm licensed to carry."

Five minutes later they were in Mr. Azure's car. Iam sat up front and Basil fitted himself across the backseat, his arm draped across his eyes.

"You better have your seatbelt on back there," Mr. Azure said as they pulled onto the road. He was met with a sigh, followed by a click. "Danica and I will be handling your case. You'll stay with us until we've completely disconnected you from the SFA."

His confidence assured Iam. "I appreciate that, Mr. Azure."

"Call me Jake."

Basil piped up. "Can we stop and get pizza, Jake?"

"You'll call me Dad until you're fifty-four, you," he said toward the rearview mirror, "and no. I'm cooking for our guest for the first night, like always."

Iam shook his head. "You don't have to—"

"I will. You just keep up and relax. What's the address again...?"

Jake slowed as they neared the neighborhood, noting the police station where Iggy and Iam had been questioned about Vince. The house didn't look as menacing as it had felt earlier that morning... which felt so long ago. So much had happened this one Wednesday.

"Get some changes of clothes and bathroom supplies," Jake said as he parked outside. "We'll wait here. I can always bring you back if you forget something."

Once inside, Iam unplugged the telephone. Its voicemail light was blinking, and he felt those were mostly for him and not Iggy or even Vince; only Iam had the overbearing parents. He didn't even want to think of sharing the day's events with them. He didn't want to admit he was unable to live in the mediocre house Iam had chosen over the apartment they'd picked out for him. The neighborhood had proven to be bad after all, and his parents would worry first, then lord over how right they were.

Flitting around the house, Iam noticed Iggy had left more than half of his stuff. Anything that had been Vince's must've been picked up by very shamed relatives or friends—neither of which Iam even knew the names of.

He turned off his phone before exiting the house; more voicemail room in his cell phone. Jake popped the trunk for Iam's duffel bag of clothes and his backpack of textbooks and laptop. When he got back into the passenger seat, Basil was talking.

"...always get the recipe right," he said, now sitting up. "It's late, a pizza's easier, and our guest probably wants something familiar."

"I use more seasoning than your mom," said Jake, "which—"