Chapter Text
Marco might have saved all of our sorry butts from media circus hell on a weekly basis, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly annoying as a friend. My phone started ringing ten minutes before class let out – not my normal phone, my security phone that only the White House Chief of Staff, the UN Secretary, Toby Hamee, and my parents have the number for – and I bolted out of my vertebrate structure lab in a blind panic. “What’s going on? Report,” I barked.
“Geez, Cassie, ever consider switching to decaf?” Marco drawled on the other end of the line.
An exasperating mixture of relief, affection, and irritation flooded my chest. “Marco, you scared the living daylights out of me. This phone is only for emergencies.”
“No, this phone is only for VIPs, which we both happen to be,” Marco said. “You never texted me back.”
“My regular phone doesn’t get text messages,” I said.
I could hear the pitying disbelief on the other side of the line before he even opened his mouth. “Your phone doesn’t get text messages…?” Okay, so irritation was winning out over relief and affection. “Remind me to get you a new phone.”
“I like it this way,” I said, ignoring a scoff on the other end of the line. “What did you want to talk to me about? I’m supposed to be in class right now.”
“You just exist to make the rest of us feel inadequate, do you know that?” Marco asked. “Are you doing this whole ‘school’ thing to show me up? Me personally?”
“Marco, I want to be a veterinarian one day,” I said, trying to keep my voice somewhat serious. It was weird how quickly we fell back into the routine of banter and joking around. I felt like I was fifteen again. I almost felt like suggesting we acquire a morph that I knew Marco’d hate, just to see if he took it in stride.
“Yeah, and I want to find meaning in my vapid celebrity lifestyle,” Marco said. “All I’m saying is, there’s a reason you gave the commencement address at all the Ivies plus Oxbridge plus Stanford and the only voicemails in my inbox are from Saturday Night Live.”
“You were great on SNL last month!” I said. “The head ranger at Yellowstone showed me a clip.”
“You didn’t watch the whole show?” Marco asked, sounding incredulous. “You wound me, Cassie.”
One of my classmates poked her head out the door – probably to check to see if the world was ending – and I flashed her a smile and a thumbs up. She disappeared back into the classroom. She was probably just trying to be polite, and I figured she was a nice person – she would have to be, since my classmates had to be vetted by the Secret Service to make sure that they weren't Symbiotes, ultra-humanists, or Earth-Firsters who might try to kill me – but all the sudden I felt self-conscious. I didn’t mean to disrupt the class but some days it felt like if I took a bathroom break outside of my schedule it would cause a campus lockdown.
“Was there a reason you called?” I asked. I was starting to get the sense that Marco was buttering me up. “And on the emergency line?”
“I wanted to make sure you were coming to the family dinner,” Marco said. “The whole gang’s going to be there. Me, my mom and dad, Loren, Naomi and the kids…”
“Those ‘kids’ are almost in college, Marco,” I said. “Jordan is graduating in May. She’s only a couple of years younger than Ra—than us.”
Marco kept going like I hadn’t said anything. “Your parents are coming, too, although they apparently forgot to tell you…” he let his voice trail off. I rolled my eyes. I knew he was doing this on purpose but I was way over this game. Marco seemed to sense my annoyance through the phone and added, “And Steve and Jean and Jake are coming too.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have missed it, regardless,” I said. And that was true. I made a point to see Naomi and the kids every now and then – I felt like it was my responsibility to Jordan and Sara, if nothing else – but Marco was really the only one who had the charm and social capital to get even a few of the remaining Animorphs and their families in one room and not make it feel like a funeral or a tribunal. It was worth going for that. It would have been worth going just to be there for Loren, who’d lost her son and her husband each twice but couldstill light up if you got her in a one-on-one conversation about the World Series or Z-space technology or the seeing eye puppies she was raising. I would have gone no matter what, because it was my duty to support and be supported by those of us who still showed up every time there was an occasion.
But still. Certain people didn’t always show. So.
“When is it?” I asked.
“Tonight at six,” Marco said.
“Tonight?!” I exclaimed. The classmate from earlier looked out from behind the door again. “Marco, it’s four-thirty now! I'm still on campus! How am I supposed to get out to Santa Barbara in an hour and a half?”
Marco put on a fake-spooky voice that I suspected was supposed to be the Ellimist, although the Ellimist didn’t have a British accent. “You’re an Animorph, Cassie,” he said. “Use the power.” Then he hung up.
I stood stock-still for a minute, mastering an impulse to throw this very expensive cell phone down the hallway. There were a lot of reasons why I should just stay in tonight. I had a big exam in vert structure in a week. Marco could have just called me last week like a normal person so that I could have planned in advance. If I had known I was going to a party tonight, I would have worn something nicer… Alright, maybe I wouldn’t have, but at least I would have made some zucchini bread or something.
I fished my real phone out of my backpack and dialed my home phone. “Hey Mom, it’s me,” I said. “I guess you haven’t left yet for the family dinner?”
“We’re leaving in a few minutes,” my mom said. She sounded frazzled. She was probably ironing my dad’s slacks and making a salad at the same time while he did rounds in the barn. “Your father is running late.”
“I just found out about it. Can you grab a blouse for me and bring it so that I can change when I get there? A nice one? And maybe pick up a bottle of wine or a cake or something on your way there? I’ll pay you back.”
The din of the flurry of motion on the other end of the line died down for a moment. “Honey, don’t worry about it,” my mom said. “This one is on us. Fly safe, okay?”
“You got it,” I said. We exchanged goodbyes and she hung up. Class was starting to let out, so I dashed back in the classroom and grabbed my books and papers and started peeling off my jacket as I dashed out of the room. It was a good thing I was wearing a pair of slip-on canvas shoes that I could morph in or I would be hanging out at the party barefoot.
Jacqueline, the Secret Service detail that everyone insisted follow me around between class and work, was waiting outside with an SUV. “Hey, last-minute change of plan,” I said, hopping in the front seat. I knew security-wise, it was better to be in the back, but it made me feel like a kid getting picked up from pre-school. “I’m flying out to Montecito on feather power tonight. Can you take my books back to my office?”
If Jacqueline was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Of course,” she said. “Let’s just get a few blocks away before you exit the vehicle in morph.” She hit a button by the dashboard and the tint on the windows darkened.
I thought that was overdoing it a little but I wasn’t going to argue with her about it. I started morphing osprey, and by the time we were off campus, she opened the sunroof and I was gone.
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