Unexpected Consequences

17. Alexander Kennedy

EVEN THOUGH LEX seemed to be keeping my secret like he promised, there was no telling what would happen now that my worst enemy knew my identity. Precautionary measures were being taken, some of them in secret. There were two police officers and an FBI agent near my school at all times, but the principal hadn't been told why. There was one patrol car at each end of my street, and one in front of Mom's bakery. Since Ben and Dana knew about me, their houses were also under protection—I told them why, but their parents were probably wondering why there were black cars parked across from their houses.

Since Mom and I were in the most danger, we were being temporarily relocated into a mini-apartment in the Henderson Tech building. Ms. Henderson herself had insisted on it.

"If they're going to be safe anywhere," she'd said, "it will be here."

And even though it was the very same building that had gotten broken into and caused my mutation in the first place, I trusted her. She'd gone to extreme lengths to heighten their security and systems, and it would be beneficial to be closer to Jenny as we worked on everything so we could guarantee that the next time Lex and I met, he would not get to walk away.

I set down the box I'd been carrying on the kitchen table. Since we'd hopefully be here for only a few days or so, we hadn't brought much, but I thought some knick knacks and pictures would lighten the mood and make it feel more homey. We unpacked the box together, me hanging up the picture frames as Mom lined up snowglobes and figurines on a shelf, unnaturally quiet. Normally she'd be humming some tune or making random comments, but her lips were flattened into a thin line.

"Mom? Everything okay?"

My question snapped her out of it, but only long enough for her to mumble something and nod and go back to making sure everything was lined up perfectly straight.

I hung up the last frame and got off the step ladder. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I know you're always in danger," she replied, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, "but lately it's been so much worse. I'm worried."

Me, too, I thought, but what I said was, "It's nothing I haven't fought before. It'll turn out fine."

"I'm still worried."

"I don't think anything I say can ever make you not worry," I said, laughing.

"That's true," she admitted. She set down the last snowglobe and then put both hands on my shoulders, looking back and forth between my eyes.

My smile faltered. "What is it?"

Mom ruffled my hair. "You're a good son. I'm lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have you."

"You're a good hero, and the world is lucky to have you, too." She hugged me tight and sighed. "I just wish you weren't so overworked."

"Mom. Be honest—do you wish I wasn't doing this?"

"Peter," she said, pulling back and grinning, "you should've seen my face when Kavanagh told me—I almost slapped him. But no, I don't wish that. I know that this is what you want, and all I want is for you to be happy."

I didn't doubt what she said, not even for a second, but she must've thought it at some point: why, of all people, did it have to be my son? Not that I blamed her—as much as I loved being Red Soldier, I'd be lying if I said that the thought never crossed my mind: why, of all people, did it have to be me?

But even past all that, here we were, both happy with the choice I made. It made my heart swell.

There was a loud knock on the door. "I'll get it," I said.