Chapter 1

Being Bailey's secret fuck-buddy was not without inconveniences.

The secret part meant I had to watch Reggie try to get her back. Admittedly, a better show than every guy who thought he had a chance trying to land her. Janet Smith found an evil joy goading me about it, offering to place a bet for me in the pool the cheerleaders got going if I had a favorite horse.

Bailey was a handful, proven by her climb over Senior girls to become captain of the cheerleading squad. I needed to keep an eye on the power meter between us; if she ever got the upper hand, I'd be washing her car every weekend. A car she wasn't legal to drive yet! Come to think of it, Bailey being a handful probably lent to her sexually adventurous nature so it washed out.

Reggie and his friends kept hammering me. He had no proof and was still being a twat, so better to be fucking Bailey than not.

Truth is, there was only one thing that might have garnered me some sympathy if people knew about us. I had to attend the games Bailey cheered at. (Okay! Probably no sympathy even from the most avid sports haters since I was banging the hottest girl in school.) Having to say hi and be publicly friendly soon turned into 'Come watch the game', made tempting by a sweet coating of 'afterwards you can fuck me in my cheerleading uniform.' Bailey didn't have a hard time selling it the first time or the second.

Or the third.

"What are they doing now?" I asked.

"It's a timeout," Janet replied.

"Didn't they just have one of those?"

"The other team called it before." Janet leaned forward, as if trying to hear what the coaches were yelling at the players. There's much raising of voices in sports.

"Shouldn't our side have talked about what they wanted to talk about during that timeout? Or is it not allowed?" I asked.

Janet turned and glared at me. "You're joking!"

"I hate football!" I stomped my feet on the bleachers. A few people joined Janet in giving me the Evil Eye.

"What's there to hate?"

"I thought football season was over," I said, ignoring the silly question. Seriously, what about football is there to like? The only thing I could come up with was it might be marginally more interesting than other sports because jocks crashed into each other with enough force to do damage.

"I told you already!" Janet punched me in the arm. "The All-Star game got cancelled because the crowd at the state championship pretty much rioted. Our principal brokered a deal to have it here and disallow any players from those two teams."

"Brokering a deal involves money not this crap!"

"Now you're being an asshole," Janet huffed, spinning around to watch the players run back onto the field.

"Yeah," I grumbled. "It's fucking cold. How the fuck does Bailey do it?"

Our cheerleading team was doing the honors behind the benches nearest to me. I had the sick feeling even if Bailey weren't down there, she would have wanted to come and insisted I make an appearance.

"Yeah," Janet whispered to me. "Think about warming her up after the game!"

"It doesn't help."

Janet snorted.

Survivors say things go into slow motion. I guess I wasn't close enough to the action; if anything, things got faster.

A crash made everyone turn left. The pickup truck's engine gunned as it turned the corner on the bleachers. The first scream pierced the cold air! The truck hit a coach, throwing him twenty feet into the field. The truck did not pause, heading straight for the cheerleaders. The pictures and video camera footage would show Bailey tackling two of her friends out of the truck's path. A cheerleader went under the driver side. The truck rammed into a girl, sending her flying into another victim of the onslaught. The next girl had enough time to scream before the truck swatted her aside.

Finally, the truck stopped!

The screams around me died when the driver's door opened. He stepped out, raised his hand, and shot a coach running at the truck. Everyone around me yelled in fear. I might have been the loudest! I turned at the sound of a thump behind me--people were jumping from the back of the bleachers.

Janet grabbed my arm, "COME ON!!!"

I ripped myself out of her grip and took a step towards Bailey. The driver was yelling something at her.

"BAILEY!" My throat burned as I shouted her name. "NO!"

His hand came up. Bailey shook her head, raising her hands, and pleading for her life.

Sharp pain stabbed my right eye! I felt something--different from my heat but familiar. Turning my head, I sighted with the right eye. The driver's head snapped around. My left eye went blind which focussed the laser heat from my right eye on the driver. I could see the anger in his eyes! He walked to the front truck and took aim at me. My eye felt like it would burst.

Shots fired! The driver shook from the impact. More shots. Two men, pointing handguns at the downed driver, approached him slowly.

The bleachers were mostly empty, making running down easier for me. I grabbed the railing, hurdling it to get to the ground. The girl under the truck had to be first! The men with guns spun on me as I ran up.

"She's still underneath!" I yelled, not waiting for them to lower their weapons. I ran around them, and ... The back truck tire rested on her chest! "Fuck me!"

As I turned, I saw another cheerleader on the ground. Her uniform looked right out of the cleaners except for the red stain growing in the middle of her chest. I had not seen him shoot anyone other than the coach! I kneeled to touch her head.

"Gone," I whispered. I looked up to meet Bailey's eyes. She must have heard me because she shook her head to deny the word's meaning.

"Stop, dammit!" One of the men said as I turned to the other victims. "Do you know what you're doing? God damn it! Stop!"

"Get the fuck out of the way!" I screamed, pushing him aside to get to next girl, the one hit by the flying cheerleader.

"Broken back," I said after touching her arm. The life was almost gone. If I hadn't turned my head to look at the other girls, I would have tried to save her. The girl who had been sent flying into the one I was touching coughed. I could not help the one in my hands, but the coughing girl had time! Leaving one girl to die, I crawled to the other.

"I'm here," I whispered. She coughed again; warm blood sprayed my face. A touch told me enough--more life but she'd be joining her friend if I didn't do something.

"Quickly!" I shouted at two men. "She's drowning in her blood."

They must have decided someone who sounded as if he knew what he was doing was better than nothing. The doctors would say what we did saved the girls who could be saved. The two men wouldn't be able to remember what I told them to do. I don't remember either because I only called them over so they would hold her down. After a few instructions which must have sounded productive to them, my hands were free.

If not for what happened between Bailey and me, the girls would have died. Before Bailey, massage had been the greater part of my healing process. She opened different avenues, like sex allowing a greater transfer of heat. Without Bailey, I wouldn't have tried to save the girls or nearly killed myself in the process.

I leaned down as if listening to the girl breath. My left hand cupped her forehead; my right hand pushed her hair out of the way and grabbed the back of her neck. Reaching inwards, I gathered every degree of heat in my body and hurled it into the girl. Her body arched! The movement surprised the men, and they let her go. She sucked in a harsh breath, expelled it, and pulled in more air. Opening her eyes, she looked at the man to her right.

"You're going to be okay!" he said, grabbing her hand. "Hang in there! You're going to be okay! I see the ambulance. You're going to be okay!"

The last girl! The exhaustion that hit me made it feel like she was miles away. Someone grabbed me, pulling me up from my crawl to her. They set me down by her head.

"Shit! She's even worse than that one!"

Crisis is supposed to be a crucible; the girl was lucky I passed the test. I grabbed her by the neck, hands on either side. Looking up at the sky, I closed my eyes. Diving into my body, I grabbed the nothing that was left of my heat and pulled. I was ripping my soul from the rivets God used to attach it to my flesh. It fought to survive, to stay inside me. Stretching! Fraying! I breathed, reached deeper, grabbed the fucking bolts holding me together and yanked another 'everything' out of myself to give to the girl in my hands.

This one screamed. Someone shoved me aside!

"I'm here, Mateo," Janet said, grabbing me under the armpits.

"Is he okay?" a voice shouted.

"Yes! Yes!" Janet yelled back. Somehow she got me to my feet. "He's fine. His girlfriend was down here! I'll get him out of the way."

I don't know how she got me to her car; she was too small to have carried me. I puked on top of her trunk when she leaned me against it to open the back door.

"If you do that in my car, I'll fucking kill you, Mateo!"

She shoved me headfirst into the backseat. My face dragged along the seat cushion as Janet pushed me deeper into the car. Folding my feet in, she slammed the door shut.

"Jesus! Jesus!" Another door slammed. "Don't be dead! Mateo, if you die, I'll kill you!"

Oh yeah that makes sense!

"What the fuck did you do?"

A hand touched my face. I opened an eye.

"I guess you are my friend if you look that worried," I whispered weakly.

"I swear to God--I'm going to fucking kill you!" she screamed. Obviously, the crucible brought out the violent side of Janet's personality. The noise made me nauseous! The car spun. "What's wrong? Mateo! What's wrong?"

"Sugar," I said. Or maybe I didn't! I squeezed my eyes shut. Gathering what felt like the last molecule of strength in my body, I opened my mouth, "Sugar."

"What?"

When I opened my eyes, Janet's face was a couple of inches away.

"Sugar," I said slowly. "Not the white shit. Health food store. Organic sugar. It's gold, not brown."

"What? Why?"

"And Cokes," I said, closing my eyes. "Sugar and Cokes."

Later, Janet told me it took her a half-hour to drive to the store and buy the stuff. I didn't move the entire time.

"Mateo!"

I opened an eye. Maybe if I closed it, the annoying person shaking me would go away!

"MATEO!"

I couldn't turn over to look at the woman yelling at me. "Please stop yelling. I don't like loud."

"I've got the stuff. Turn over." Someone grabbed my arms, pulling and heaving me over. "Sit up!"

I wouldn't have been able to if Janet had not provided most of the energy needed.

"Hey, Janet! What are you doing in my car?" For some reason, I could only whisper. "When did I get a car?"

"You did something at the game, remember?"

"Too close! Too loud!" I tried to move away. She got into the car and shoved her face a few inches from mine.

"The sugar and Cokes, Mateo."

I looked at bag and six pack of soda she held up to me. The football game! The girls!

"Spoon," I said, taking the stuff from her.

"A spoon for what?"

"Or a cup?"

She must have gotten tired of questioning me, instead she climbed into the front seat. "Here!"

It was a paper coffee cup. I put the Cokes down and took the cup from her. There were coffee stains at the bottom, but it was dry enough.

"Open bag," I told her, after failing to do it myself. "Fill the cup."

Janet looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. I opened a bottle of Coke. She handed me the cup, full of sugar. I tipped the cup onto my lips and dropped my head back. I washed down a quarter cup of sugar with half a bottle of Coke.

"That's fucking disgusting!" Janet blurted.

Another quarter cup of sugar and half bottle of Coke! As disgusting as Janet found it, she opened the second bottle for me. The second cup of sugar washed down more evenly, needing only the third bottle of soda. The third cup of sugar sucked to choke down though!

"You know that thing I said about wishing I could do what you do," Janet told me. "Not ever!"

Most of the time, Janet seemed liked she didn't believe I could do anything special so I wasn't offended. I burped around the top of the fourth Coke bottle.

"Are you okay?"

Putting up my hands, I stopped her jumping into the back seat. I was breathing slow, hard, and LOUD. Shaking my head, I lay down.

"I'll be okay," I told her. I'd never seen Janet so scared. "The sugar will hold me."

"You need more?"

"I'm going to take a nap," I told her.

"After that much sugar?"

"Can you do me another favor, Janet?" I asked.

"I'm not taking you home like this!" she said. "Don't even think it."

"No." I closed my eyes. "Next town. Main Street. Across the street from that monster Pathmark, there's a restaurant called Unico. Get me two dinners of anything except ribs. I hate ribs!"

It was getting dark when I woke up.

"Here," Janet said, opening the back car door and shoved a bag at me. "You slept for a while. The old lady in the restaurant speaks only Spanish. She got a kid to translate. I didn't know what to get you, but the old lady made me explain. She came out here and started screeching when she saw you. She said to let you sleep so she could make your favorite. How does she know your favorite? And some soup. She made me get the pork dinner. I have ox-tail soup. She made spaghetti and chicken. That's a lot of fat on the pork. Why do you come to a Spanish food place and get Italian? Spaghetti and chicken! How does she know you? She kept calling you 'El Cura'. Everyone in there seems to know you. Are you famous with Spanish people or something?"

Janet was losing it!

"Outside." I pushed the bag to her. "I need air."

The sugar must have done some work; I managed to crawl out of the car under my own power. Janet laid out the food containers on top of her car. She paused now and then to take a deep breath, but the simple task seemed to calm her nerves. She handed me a spoon and the soup when she finished.

"The old woman said to eat this first. So for real, how does she know you?" She waited until I finished half the soup before letting her curiosity get the better of her and poking me to answer the question.

I waited until I finished ALL the soup before replying. "They used to bring me here. The women that my mom had teach me to be a sobador. The woman's granddaughter got sick, and the doctors didn't know what was wrong."

"So you healed her," Janet said with a nod. She leaned against the car; something about saying those words let her relax, maybe for the first time since the game.

"I haven't been here in years. I guess people don't forget." The woman was right--the fatty pork went down smooth.

"So is the food special? Fuel for your superpowers!"

I must have been looking better because she grabbed my arm to look around me at the food.

"I don't have superpowers," I replied and ignored her snort. "And no, it's not special. It makes me feel good. I need food, but a cheeseburger wouldn't..."

"Make you feel good," she said with a nod. "Like my mom's chicken soup when I was sick. She hasn't made it for me in years."

Janet jumped up to sit on the trunk of her car. She watched me devour the rest of the food without saying another word.

"You've got blood all over" she said when I got back from tossing the containers in the trash can at the corner. The walk steadied my knees and straightened my back. Janet pulled the cuff of her shirt over the heel of her hand and patted my face. "If a cop sees us, they will ask questions."

"I think if we say we were at the game..."

Janet's face whitened, making me wish I hadn't said it.

"Bailey called me from the hospital," she said, dropping her head. "The girls are in surgery--the ones you touched. Everybody else he shot or hit with the truck is dead. Three girls from the cheerleading team, Mateo!"

Chapter 2 »