Chapter 6 : Sons of Krypton

Kenny's POV "Kenny—you lazy piece of sh-shitake—you better get out of bed and come help me out with the twins!" "God-fuckin'-dammit." Goddess above, I hadn't even been in bed for twenty minutes before the day had to start. I rolled out of bed, groaning, and cry out in pain as white-hot lightning lanced up my spine. Shit, my ass! "Goddamn it, David." He'd called me last night crying at 3 a.m. and blubbering like a baby. His dad was seizing, his mom was AWOL, and the maid had gone home hours ago. "You have to help me," he sniffled, and I could see the way he was probably snotting into the line, fat tears rolling down his golden skin. "He's choking, and I don't know what to do—" Marty McMullen owed me a solid getting him that nudie mag of Monroe on the cover, so I copped a ride from him with the honor of discretion among us trailer kids. No questions asked even as we passed by the normal neighborhoods and went into oil baron lands. The Hurt McMansion was a product of strong Alpha linage, years of influence, and dirty deals done in the dark, but it did look pretty whitewashed against the star-studded desert night. It wasn't until Marty's car was a smear of fading tail lights that David ran out to greet me with a bone-crushing hug that realigned my spine. Mr. Hurt had been in a bad way for years, but last night was the worst I'd ever seen him. It took nearly three hours to get him to breathe on his own, and another hour of healing to be lucid enough to get him to his room. He was still pretty out of it, thank Goddess, and thought I was one of David's Patriots, thanking me in that Texan drawl of his. Nicest he'd ever been to an O'Rourke in years I bet. David had been pretty messed up, jittery with pre-rut and we'd, well— "Payment, for my dad," he said into my collarbone as I traced the Alpha's spine in a way that bordered on maybe too caring. "It doesn't mean anything, O'Rourke. So don't get any ideas." "Wasn't going to." But the tension seemed to be gone from him, replaced by the ease that only comes with a good fucking. "Want a cig?" "Goddess, yes." And we'd left it like that. Simple. Neat. A nice little bow on top. So then why? Why was I sitting here crying about it? Why was my heart achin' like I wanted more? "Stupid," I said to the mirror, towel from my shower slung low on my hips. I shaved, careful with the awkward notch in the blade that Toni had put into it after he borrowed the damn thing. "What? You think you're somebody's sweetheart just because you went a couple of rounds with them?" "Whose sweetheart are you, Kenny?" "Goddess on high!" I banged my hip on the porcelain of the sink, gripping the shower curtain for dear life as I brandished my razor out in front of me. "Cal, what are you doing in the bathroom? Get out!" "I have to pee!" He ignored me in the way all six-year-olds do, with the hyper-focused hard-headedness of youth. He shoved me away from the toilet and lifted the lid, dropping his shorts, aim true. "You were taking forever and Jay told me not to pee in the Figus anymore!" "Ficus," I corrected, going back to shaving and glad I hadn't nicked myself. "Wait…you were peeing in the bush?" "I had to go! And you and Lottie take forever!" I picked him up one-handed by the scruff of his sweater so he could wash his hands. The pup was small for his age, but that was to be expected given how malnourished he was when we found him. "So I peed in the Figus!" "Ficus." I lowered him back down, snatching a rag off the banister so I could dry his little mitts. "F-I-C-U-S, Ficus." "Ficus," he said, proud of himself, little dimples perking up on his round face. "We can't pee in the Ficus." "Well, yeah, 'course not. We ain't animals, Little Bean." I fluffed his hair the same way Rocco did to us when we were ankle biters, or how Jojo did now to Mickey who was four years our junior. "We wear pants now, the whole shebang!" "I'm not a bean," Cal snapped, teeth trying to snag a finger, but he lacked the ability to shift to make it a real danger. Didn't stop him from trying though, the little shit. "Stop that, Ken!" "Make me!" I stuck my tongue out, my whole palm covering his little face as he charged at me with a lion's roar. I grabbed another towel, wiped shaving cream off my face, and pushed us out of the bathroom, passing Lottie, who looked like she was about to burst. "Where's Will?" "He's downstairs with—" "KENNY, I SWEAR TO THE HOLIEST MOTHER, IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BUNS OVER HERE NOW, I'LL—" "I'M COMING! You want a ride?" I kneeled to Cal's level with a grin. "One-time offer, get it while it's hot!" "Superman?" "One Kal-El comin' up." I scooped him up after he assumed the pose, making whooshing noises as we walked past the chaos of five elementary-aged children getting ready in the morning. We walked to the little kitchenette that served as hallowed ground for us O'Rourke's, lovers of food as we were. Two pans on the stove told me it was Grits Monday, and I could see a neat row of crisp bacon on a paper towel ripe for pilfering. My sister—my actual sister through the blood of our piece of shit father—had a mouth full of pins and she dragged a brush through dark Amelia's hair. It was a half-pinned monstrosity of what looked like Lucielle Ball done by Picasso. I gave the girl the most pitying look I could give, while I landed our resident Clark Kent near a bowl of grits. "You lose a bet or something, Millie?" "Goddess on high! Kenneth! Where are your fudgin' clothes!" She was trying to curb her cursing for the young ones present—Joanne was good like that. "Go get dressed!" "You said you needed help with the twins!" Abigail shyly sat between my legs on the floor as I fluffed a stained pillow for her to sit on. Her hair was ink wash Medusa sans the snakes. "Look it's either I waste time gettin' ready or I spend it on them. I can't do both!" Joanne spat the bobby pins into her hand. "You gettin' fresh with me, little brother? Because I'll—" "Pop you into next week, I know. OW! What the fuc—" Cal looked at me with wide eyes, spoon hovering near his gap-toothed mouth. "Fukushima. What in the Fukushima did you hit me for?" "For being a wise guy." She lowered the brush, pinning the last of Millie's hair up. She looked— "What are you tryin' to build a cake?" I divided Abagail's hair into four sections, deftly braiding the lower strands into braids. "You want the pink ribbon or green today, Lady A?" "Lavender, please," her voice like a dormouse, and I reached up to the overhead bins above us to find the right ones. "Anything for you, Princess." I tweaked her nose, making her laugh, while Joanne glared at me. "A cake," Joanne snorted. "Amelia's wearin' the latest in French dos!" "On who, a poodle!" I tied off the last braid, four bows terminating each one, and gave Abigail a gentle pat. "All right, sugar, ya good to go!" "Thanks, Kenny!" Abigail kissed my cheek, the too-wet slobber of kiddos that I loved with all my heart. Parental pride thrumming through me. "Any time, princess!" "Kennnyyyyy." Oh no, the sound of a meltdown, and sure enough Amelia was looking at her sister with naked envy, hiccupping to keep from erupting into waterworks. "Can you—" "Yeah sure, c'mere." She fled my sister's grip as I hastily undid…whatever the fuck this was supposed to be. "Ribbon?" "I want pink…" And I set out to give her the same style as her twin in the limited time that we had. Joanne lit a cigarette, clearly offended. "Everyone's a critic," she sucked down more smoke and held it out to me so I could get my morning fix, despite my full hands. "Hey, you got time to pick up that paperwork from Golden Sun before it closes at six? Rocco's havin' me work late tonight and Toni said he's okay to babysit." "You trust Goldilocks with our little bears?" Another smack, but I was expecting that one. "No can do, I got plans tonight." My mind thought back to David and his dumb tear-stained face, my heart giving a sad thump. "But what's goin' on with you and the bank? We okay?" "We're good, Mr. Worrywart. But what have you got going on tonight? Jojo told me the Dropouts weren't ridin'?" Goddamn it Jojo, always opening your mouth at the worst times! "It's not about the gang," I finished Amelia's hair, turning her loose so we could have this conversation with as few witnesses as possible. "What, I can't have a life outside of them?" "That's not what this is about. I need you tonight—" "And I need a break." I wasn't wrong, but it didn't stop me from feeling like less of a heel. I stood up, determined to end the conversation before it began. "Look, it's not personal but—" "Kenny has a sweetheart!" Cal said putting his dish in the sink with the help of some stacked phonebooks. "He said so this morning?" "You're blowin' me off for some girl?" With anyone else, they'd have been pissed, but Jaybird wasn't like a lot of other people. She squealed, rushing to pester me with a million and two questions. "What's her name? Do I know her? Course, I know her, we know everybody. It's Lonton. She's a senior? How long you've been going out? Is that why you're gettin' home so late? Are you being safe? Kenny tell me your wearin' a—" "Gotta go!" I ran to my room, tail between my legs, I'll admit it. "Gunna be late after all! They are too, get 'em on the bus Jay! Do NOT follow me!" "WHEN AM I GUNNA MEET HER!? KENNY!" *** "Shit, not now." I got a ride from Ricky, who had the day off from the shop, leaving me and Mickey to walk into Sacred Heart together. Ten minutes late, that wasn't so bad. Practically on time. Mickey was a nervous wreck beside me; he'd never been this late before and didn't want to get yelled at. I said I'd take the fall for the both of us if Mrs. Lewis got in our ass. But that wasn't what was causing me to curse. It was in the middle of a rut. I'd hit myself with a dose of suppressants before I slipped into Ricky's '49 Dodge Wayfarer, but something felt off…ever since that night, he'd seen us together. The spud. Ashford Wells. I don't know what the little freak had done, if he used some of that magic people said the casteless had, to like hex me or somethin', but I'm sure he was the one that'd done it. Ever since New Year's, the suppressants have been working less and less. Shots, pills—didn't matter. I'd burn through them quicker than when I'd first presented freshman year. I had to find Suzy, she'd have extras on her, and maybe would be nice enough to spare me a couple more to tide me over until I could get more at the pharmacy outside of town. I just had to…hold out until lunch, I could corner her then and— Fuck! "Kenny, you all right?" Mickey's hand was a cool balm to my rut heat, cramps already subsiding with his Beta presence. His eyes were round behind his glasses, worried. "Goddess, Kenny, you're burnin' up—" "I'm fine!" It was hard standing up straight, and I had to put my hand on the lockers to keep up the charade. "I just drank a lot last night. Genes and all, you've seen my old man. Lemme tell you though, hangovers ain't no joke! I need me some hair of the—" "ASH!" We rounded the corner just in time to see Ashford Wells eat it—a spray of bright red blood against the green tiles. And David, in all his full-blown rut glory, was the perfect Kryptonite for the suppressants in my blood to break down. I motioned for Mickey to beat it and fished for the lighter in my pocket. I had to end this quickly, or the entire school would find out who Kenny O'Rourke really was…