Superheroes

Chapter Fourteen - Faith

“G-g-got any ideas about wh-what to do now then?” I asked, my voice strangely high, like that of a strangled cat. Not that I'd ever listened to a cat being strangled, but I imagined I felt like one in that moment. I never claimed I was good at this.

“Fuck if I know,” Andrew said, kicking the cigarette now. “I don’t know. It didn’t sound too good, did it?”

“Not in the slightest,” I said with a dry smile, watching him bludgeon the cigarette into a sprinkle of tobacco and mulched up paper. 

“I think Trent might have actually offed himself, Ash,” Andrew said after a minute, his eyes still down on the grass. “I mean, if he did it before, it kind of seems like-”

“H-he was killed, Andrew,” I said with a sigh, none of my previous conviction present. I was bored of saying that, and more so of no one listening.

“All our evidence-”

“I know,” I said. I’d had the last three lessons to try and find some light in this situation, and had thought of nothing. “But that d-doesn’t matter. I know he was killed.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, but I could tell what he was thinking, and that had nothing to do with being psychic. The nervous apprehension in his expression said it all. He didn’t believe me anymore.

“You know, I b-believed you, about what you said with T-Trent. About you n-not k-killing him,” I said, frowning as I kept my eyes on the split cigarette. “Admittedly only after s-some rather m-melodramatic explaining and a-arguing, but I b-believed you when you told me.”

“I know,” Andrew said quietly. The guilt in his voice was all very pretty, but it also confirmed my suspicions. 

“It’s f-fine,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it. I’d had enough of throwing tantrums and storming off today. This time I’d try for the higher ground. “I c-can s-solve it w-without y-you.” He didn’t say anything still, and I felt my stomach clenching as my throat tightened. “You were kind of d-distracting anyway.”

“Ash,” Andrew said pleadingly. “Look, I- I do believe you, it’s just… I mean, even if he was killed, it doesn’t seem like we can prove it, does it? It’s pretty much the perfect murder.”

“There has to be a way,” I countered, my bitterness at this whole affair creeping in. The killer, whoever they were, sure hadn’t made this easy. “I don’t know h-how, but there’s a way to prove it. I just need to f-f-figure it out, and I need you to t-trust me.”

“Ash, come on, I trust you, it’s just-”

“Trust me?” I repeated. The whole keeping my cool thing was going pretty appallingly as I felt my face flush with heat, my voice constantly jumping up several decibels. “Andrew, you d-don’t trust anyone, let alone m-me.”

It had been cruel to snap at him like that, and I watched him pale accordingly. He wasn’t done yet though, trying out the defensive smile as he rocked back onto his heels. “Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve told you about… stuff.”

“Only because you were d-drunk and literally c-crying in a dark c-corner,” I pointed out. It felt a little underhand to use that particular moment against him, but I was on a roll for being an asshole that day.

“I’ve talked to you about other things,” Andrew tried again, his brow creasing as he tried to think of a decent example.

“Alright then. Why do you b-bunk lessons when you spend the r-rest of your time complaining about the c-consequences? Or do I n-need to be w-worried about you and your ‘hot dates’ with the school c-counsellor? Or what’s up with the whole n-not eating th-thing?”

“I eat,” Andrew said rather indignantly, but the stubborn pride faded fast. I’d pulled another one of his tricks and used his soft spots against him, and it seemed to be taking its toll. He dropped the tight smile and instead lowered his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. I’d imagined in the past that having his kind of power over him would feel gratifying, like I could finally hold my own. Instead I just felt mildly ill.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pressing my palms to my face before running my fingers back through my hair. “That wasn’t f-fair. This is just d-difficult, and it’s making m-me m-more of a twat than usual.” He snorted lamely, keeping his eyes averted. “If you d-don’t think he was m-murdered, then there’s no p-point in d-doing this anymore. I’ll figure it out someday, p-probably, but you d-don’t have to… w-we don’t have to… I’ll do it myself,” I finished awkwardly.

As if the universe had conspired to punctuate the finality of what I’d just said, the end of lunch bell then rang. It seemed to go on for longer than usual as we just looked at one another, trying to work out what was going to happen.

“Ash,” Andrew said after the bell fell quiet. “Can’t we-”

“I’ve got to go,” I realised aloud, cutting him off quickly. Any other day, I would have loved to hear how that sentence finished, to know that there was a vague possibility that Andrew didn’t think I was just a completely useless asshole. To be told in real, open words that hanging around with me wasn’t enforced torture.

Today, however, I was feeling quite humiliated enough, thank you very much. I didn’t need to add fawning over him like a brainless idiot to my list of shortcomings.

Turning on my heel, I completed my asshole-Andrew transformation by being the one to flee the scene, marching back across the field towards the school block. My hot date with the school counsellor awaited.

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A/N: Apologies for how long this took, I'm using the usual excuse of exam prep tyranically dominating my life.  I felt like the human embodiment of 'I will pee on everything you love' whilst writing it. The excessive angst will die down someday, I swear. I can also promise that mystery solving wise, things happen soon, plus, the introduction of a kind of new character! Such excitement, much drama.

Ranting aside, this is dedicated to _shoes, who has magic powers, a badass female MC with guns, and a sass-talking ginger character whom I have tragically fallen in love with.