The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

Chapter 289: 289 | A Sitcom Premise With Lethal Actresses [CASTLE BONUS]

The track curved through the trees. Morning light filtered through fog. Created patterns on the ground that shifted as we ran. Other students spread out along the path. Some pulling ahead. Some falling behind. Most maintaining the steady pace Steele had implied was expected. I spotted Theo near the front. His massive frame moved with surprising grace for someone his size. Lyra ran alone somewhere in the middle distance. Her pink hair unmistakable even through the forest shadows.

"Can I ask you something?" Caden said.

"You’re going to anyway."

"What’s actually going on with Camille and Petra? Because yesterday was wild, but this morning they’re both acting like you don’t exist. You’d think at least one of them would be mad enough to confront you. Instead they’re just avoiding."

"Avoiding is probably healthier for everyone."

"Since when do people do the healthy thing?"

He had a point.

"It’s complicated."

"You keep saying that. Complicated how?"

I considered how much to share. Caden was smarter than he let on. More observant. Probably more trustworthy than his presentation suggested. He was also someone who would absolutely spread interesting information if he thought it would produce entertaining results.

"Both of them came to my room last night," I said. "Separately. At the same time. There was overlap."

Caden’s stride faltered for a fraction of a second.

"I’m sorry. Both of them? Camille and Petra? The two women who hate each other more than they hate anyone else in the cohort? Both of them showed up at your room? At the same time?"

"Sequentially. Petra arrived while Camille was already there."

"Bro."

"I know."

"That’s not complicated. That’s a sitcom premise. That’s the kind of thing that happens in bad romantic comedies where the protagonist has no idea why he’s suddenly popular."

"I’m aware."

"What happened? Did they fight? Did Camille try to shoot Petra? Did Petra build a wall between them? Did anyone’s clothes come off at any point?"

"No. No. No. And no comment."

Caden’s grin was wide enough to split his face. "No comment is not the same as no."

"No comment is also not the same as yes."

"But it’s definitely not no."

I picked up my pace, just slightly, the kind of shift that kept the rhythm of the run going but cut into the space for further commentary. Caden matched me immediately, his stride evening out beside mine without visible effort. The grin hadn’t dimmed.

He’d filed something away for later use and he was absolutely going to deploy it at the worst possible moment. That was fine. I had bigger problems than Caden Holt’s future comedic timing.

The trees started to thin ahead where the track curved toward the first checkpoint marker. Steele stood near the post, arms crossed, her posture relaxed in the specific way of someone who was tracking every runner that passed her with the kind of attention she’d weaponize during tomorrow’s training rotation.

Her eyes caught mine as I approached. Held for a beat that felt longer than it was. Then moved on to the next student. No comment. No acknowledgment. Just data collection running behind a completely neutral expression.

The second lap opened up ahead. My body found its groove without conscious thought, legs settling into the cadence that would carry me through the distance without burning out early. My breathing evened. The footfalls became background noise. My mind drifted back through the implications of last night instead of staying present with the run. Camille’s Gauge sitting at forty-three. Petra’s arrival interrupting what had very nearly become something more complicated than I was prepared to manage. The fact that both of them had shown up to my room within minutes of each other, carrying different intentions that had somehow collided in the same doorway.

Felicity’s comment earlier about my apparent popularity. Rina apologizing for something that wasn’t remotely her responsibility. The System tracking all of it through Gauges I couldn’t see yet and mechanics I couldn’t fully predict.

I’d applied to Halloran to become a hero.

The System had apparently applied me to something else entirely.

The track opened up again as we came around the far side of the loop. Ahead, the academic building complex rose above the tree line. Monday schedule. Combat Theory and Tactics first. Then Aspect Development Lab. Then lunch. Then afternoon practicals.

Then Hero Basic Training.

Radiant. Teaching Mondays and Wednesdays.

That still felt surreal.

The number one hero in America. The physical embodiment of everything the public believed heroism should be. Standing in a classroom explaining combat theory to a bunch of first-years who had never seen real field work. His speed demonstration yesterday had been terrifying in its casual power. The air displacement alone could have killed someone if he hadn’t controlled it perfectly. And he had controlled it perfectly. Because he was Radiant. Because he had been controlling power like that for decades. Because he was so far beyond anything we were capable of that the gap wasn’t a gap, it was a canyon.

Why was he here? Teaching introductory classes?

Heroes at his level didn’t spend time on education. They spent time on crises. They spent time on threats that exceeded what regional heroes could handle. They spent time being the symbol that kept society from falling apart at the seams.

They didn’t teach freshmen how to execute hostage extraction protocols.

Unless there was a reason.

Unless something was happening that made observing the next generation of heroes important enough to justify pulling him from active duty.

Unless Halloran wasn’t just a school anymore.

The third lap finished without incident. I crossed the checkpoint with Caden still beside me. Both of us breathing harder but not winded. Joined the other students gathering near the obstacle course for the next phase of conditioning. Felicity appeared at my elbow within thirty seconds. Her ponytail slightly messy. Her compression shirt damp with sweat in ways that my brain absolutely did not need to process this early in the morning.

"Good run?"

"Adequate."

"Adequate means terrible. Are you dying? Should I call medical?"

"I’m fine. Just tired."

"From not sleeping. Because of complications."

"You’re not going to let this go, are you?"

"Absolutely not. I’m like a dog with a bone except the bone is your personal life and I have no intention of dropping it until I’ve extracted every detail."

Marco materialized from somewhere. His dark hair still somehow perfectly arranged despite three miles of jogging. "She asked me what happened approximately seventeen times during the run. I told her I didn’t know anything. She didn’t believe me."

"Because you’re lying," Felicity said.

"I’m absolutely lying. But lying to you is entertaining, so I’m going to keep doing it."