Redness flooded Max’s cheeks and when he did lift his eyes, they were flashing with anger. “I’m not stupid.”
Adrian swallowed. “I didn’t mean—”
“Okay, maybe it wasn’t actual flying, but it wasn’t normal, either, what you did. You jumped”—he glanced back, measuring the city with his eyes—“at least fourteen feet, and you weren’t even running or anything at the time. You just took off.”
Adrian stared at him as his mind searched for an explanation, but nothing came. The silence felt impermeable and Adrian wanted to break it, but he had nothing to say.
Finally, Max sank back onto his heels. “You know, I’ve seen videos of another prodigy that can jump like that too.”
Adrian’s pressed his lips tight together, as if the confession might emerge of its own accord. Already he was debating if it would really be so bad to tell Max the truth. He could be trusted with this secret, couldn’t he? Clearly, he’d already figured it out—at least, guessed—so how much harm would there be in admitting it?
But still he hesitated. Because as much as he loved Max, he also knew that Max loved Captain Chromium, and Adrian couldn’t be sure where most of his loyalties lay, and Adrian still wasn’t ready for his dads to know that he was the Sentinel. Their expressions when they’d gotten to headquarters last night, after they heard about what happened in the quarantine, were burned into his memory. Fear and panic, relief coupled with concern. Not just for what had happened, but more for what could have happened. Adrian knew it wasn’t just the fear that he might have lost his powers, which would be hard to come to terms with at first, but wouldn’t have been the end of the world. But it was also the fact that he’d nearly died at the library that still had them shaken up. Perhaps, too, their nerves were running high from the Captain’s brush with death at the parade, even if neither of them was admitting how close it had been.
Being a Renegade was dangerous. It had always been dangerous, and few superheroes tried to persuade themselves otherwise. It was just a fact of this life they had chosen—or that had chosen them.
But if his dads found out that Adrian was also the Sentinel … had taken on Nightmare at the parade, visited the Anarchists in their tunnels, faced off against the Detonator at the library, and charged headlong into the fire … their anxiety would skyrocket. He didn’t need to put them through that.
At least, that’s what he told himself. It was for them. He was keeping this secret for their own well-being, to protect them from their own worries.
But he also knew that it was a selfish decision. He wasn’t ready to hang up the mantle of the Sentinel, and he knew they would ask him to.
What he didn’t know was whether he would listen to the request or not. Right now, it seemed easier to stay silent.
“Okay, fine,” said Max, once it became clear Adrian wasn’t going to admit to his assumptions. “You don’t have to answer. I saw what I saw.”
Adrian looked away, his shoulders weighted down with guilt. He wished he could explain to Max that it wasn’t personal. That he wasn’t ready to tell anyone.
He said simply, “It’s complicated.”
Max guffawed. “Yeah, and I don’t know anything about that.”
Adrian cringed.
“But one thing did occur to me,” said Max, tapping his marker into his palm. “This guy called the Sentinel … you might have heard of him? The Sentinel? He’s kind of been in the news a lot lately.”
Adrian shot him a wry look. “Sounds familiar.”
“Right, so as far as I know, this guy they call the Sentinel and I might be the only prodigies alive who can claim to have more than one superpower. At least, we both have multiple, totally unrelated superpowers. Not like Tsunami, who can both create water from nothing and also manipulate existing water. But he can make fire and do the whole jumping thing and now they’re saying he has some fancy new concussive energy beam. Whereas I have”—he tapped the pen against each fingertip as he counted—“telekinesis, metal manipulation, matter fusing, some invisibility, um…” He pondered. “Absorption, obviously, and now whatever it is you do. What do you call it, anyway?”
Adrian was smiling again. He knew Max was working to cross the divide caused by Adrian’s secret and his unwillingness to talk about. It felt like a compromise, and he was grateful for it. “I just call it sketching,” he said. “But I think it’s listed as ‘artwork genesis’ in my profile.”