

The Time I

Saved the Day

Jes Drew

Copyright © 2014; 2016; 2018 Jes Drew

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1500247863

ISBN-13: 978-1500247867

P eril as a Possession

'Tis Good to bear

Danger disintegrates Satiety

There's Basis there-

Begets an awe

That searches Human Nature's creases

As clean as Fire.

-Emily Dickinson
DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my Lord Jesus Christ Who gives me strength and who is trustworthy in all things. I also dedicate it to my sister, fellow author Nicki Chapelway, for her assistance in the brainstorming stage and _mostly_ helpful criticism.
Acknowledgments

First of all, I could do nothing without my Lord Jesus Christ- especially not write a book! Second of all, this book would not exist if it weren't for my family. I'd like to thank them all, especially my mom, sister, and grandmother, and most of all, my dad. Also, I'd like to thank my fellow teenage author and friend Heather for her encouragement and tips. I hope you get your book published too! Finally, thanks to Y. Nikolova at Ammonia Book Covers for my brand new, beautiful cover!

Read to the end for a free gift!

Prologue

When I open my eyes again, my vision is cloudy. I can't tell where I am or even remember how I got here.

I'm sitting in something; I think it's a metal chair. I feel like I'm suffocating and begin to panic, but then I remember that I'm wearing my ski mask. My arms feel tied down to the arms of the chair, though I can't tell if they really are or not. My legs feel knotted together.

I raise my head, causing a wave of nausea to wash over me. I wait for it to fade away before attempting to move again.

Finally, my vision clears, though there isn't much to see. Wherever I am, it has really bad lighting.

I painfully twist my head to the left- nothing but darkness. I twist my head to the right- it's the same there. The movement causes a new wave of nausea to wash over me.

What has happened to me? It can't be a hangover- I've never touched alcohol in my life. Or maybe I have. I can't remember.

What kind of mess have I gotten myself into? How in the world am I going to get myself out of it? And could somebody _please_ tell me how I even got myself into it?!
Chapter One

" _BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"_ shrieks my obnoxious alarm clock.

My hand absently searches for the snooze button. It can't be morning yet... I try to pull myself from my bed, but my pillow seems to have me in its snares. Finally I release myself and groggily hobble to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. My mind tries to figure out the date. Great, another school day, but at least its Friday, right? After this I'll have the first week of my sophomore year down and all the rest to go. Goodie.

After I wash my face, brush my teeth, and make an attempt to tame my curly hair, I return to my room. I choose my outfit for the day: a purple t-shirt sporting a random number, a pair of un-ripped jeans (I can't stand ripped ones), and my purple tennis shoes. Then I tug my cherished whistle that belonged to my mom over my head and pull my long, black hair into a ponytail. After that, I apply some lip gloss. That's all the makeup I wear since there isn't any need for mascara; my ultra-thick hair may be aggravating, but my ultra-thick eyelashes are convenient. Also, I can't stand all that powdery makeup. Finally, I pray and read my Bible. Now that I'm ready, I run to the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad; morning, Mother," I greet.

"Good morning, Charisa," they reply in unison.

I slip into my seat next to where my golden haired, angel faced step-sister has parked her wheelchair. "Morning, Court Jester."

She rolls her eyes and playfully punches my shoulder. It's not my fault there aren't any good nicknames for Courtney.

"I can't wait for music class, we're going to learn 'Pomp and Circumstance'," she says excitedly. While I switch between positive and negative moods on a regular basis, my little sister is an undaunted optimist.

I begin eating my eggs, bacon, and toast breakfast my mother, well stepmother, made. My _mom_ died when I was eight.

As I eat, I look between my parents. They look so different. My dad, like me, is Hispanic and has dark skin, black hair, and brown eyes. However, my (step) mother, like my sister, is Caucasian and has light skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes.

I soon finish my breakfast and wash the dishes. Mornings are crazy- Dad and Mother both have jobs and Courtney and I have school.

Finally, the school bus drives by. I quickly grab my backpack and run out the door yelling good-byes to everyone. I slide into the seat next to my two best friends, Olivia and Nora.

"Oh, hi, Chrissie," greets Nora, pulling a strand of brown hair behind her ear. She wears a different fashion every day. For instance, yesterday she was wearing an outfit that looked like she had stolen it from a model. However, today she's wearing her favorite pair of sweats. "I was just telling Olivia about the contest the school newspaper is having this year. Whoever who has the best written true story will be welcomed on the paper. _Eek_!"

I smile at Nora's enthusiasm; it's her dream to be a newspaper reporter, despite the fact newspapers are becoming obsolete (a fact I often remind her of). "That's great, Nora, I hope you win."

She smiles dreamily. I turn to Olivia, but she is engrossed in her science book, her head tilted in a way that made her short blond hair obscure her face from view. It might seem rude that she's always reading, but she has multiple levels of focus so she can read _and_ be a part of the conversation (though, she isn't much of a talker). I think it's a genius thing. Besides that, Olivia also dresses like a genius. Today Olivia is wearing her pink sweater over a crisp tan top and a pair of khakis.

Suddenly Nora sighs. "What if I can't find a story?"

"You'll find a story in this city," I assure. "It's Montgomery, Alabama after all."

The bus stops again and Vanessa enters. She struts by, giving me an icy glare before promptly sitting next to her fellow cheerleaders. We've been archenemies since sixth grade when I caught her cheating on her science test with my answers, and I told the teacher.

"Anyway, what movie are you bringing to the slumber party this Saturday?" Nora asks as she cleans her glasses on her shirt.

At the mention of her party, Olivia looks up.

I ponder the question for a moment. "I don't know... it depends."

"That reminds me," Olivia says. "I found a bunch of old home videos, so I thought we could make a theme of it."

"Ooh!" Nora cries. "Great idea, I think I know where ours are."

They look at me and I nod.

The rest of the ride is spent talking about our slumber party.

~~~

Halfway between history and English, I detour from my usual path to investigate a strange commotion. What I find is a crowd of kids jeering and laughing, but I can't see what their object is. I shove my way through the crowd and see a skinny boy at the center. I don't know him personally, but I'm pretty sure he's Carl Sanders, the youngest student at this school. He's only twelve, but he's skipped two grades (I think he's the only kid at this school who's as intelligent as Olivia). His backpack is open and its contents are scattered on the ground. A large boy is holding a book above his head, and Carl is attempting to fetch it, but he's much too short.

"Here's your book," taunts the boy. "Don't you want it? Oh, sorry, I'm used to dealing with _teenagers._ "

He lowers the book a little, but Carl still can't reach

I walk forward and yank the book from the boy's hands and give it to Carl, before glaring at the whole group and start gathering the scattered items. Carl helps me, but everyone else silently scatters to their various classes.

Once everything has been put back into the backpack, Carl meekly smiles and whispers, "Thank-you," before hurrying away.

I check my watch; I'm almost five minutes late. I grab my books and run to English. Once I reach my class, I attempt to slide into my seat unnoticed, but alas, I fail.

"Strike one, Miss O'Dell," says Mrs. B., my English teacher without looking up from her book.

Great. Just great.

~~~

"You did the right thing," insists Nora, speaking over the roar of the cafeteria.

I play with my pudding, pondering what she had said.

Olivia nods. "It's usually a thankless job, but somebody has to help people."

"It's not that it's a thankless job," I mutter. "I don't expect to be thanked for every good deed I accomplish- though Carl did thank me- it's that I got in _trouble_ for doing the right thing that irks me."

"Chrissie," Nora scolds, "I've never known you to measure yourself and your actions by how others think of you and them."

I smile; Nora always knows just what to say. Well, except when she doesn't. "I guess you're right."

"Now that that's straightened up," Nora begins, "which nail polish colors are each of you taking to the sleep over?"

~~~

Once I get home, I drop my backpack and run to my room. I quickly change into my karate robe and comb my hair into a fresh ponytail. Then I work on my homework while I wait for Mother return from her morning job at a local boutique. I've finished two subjects by the time she arrives to pick me up to take me to karate class.

After she has pulled out of the driveway, she asks her usual question, "How was school today?"

I give my usual answer. "Fine."

She nods and tells me a funny happening at the boutique, but I don't really listen; I'm too busy wondering what school will be like next Monday. Finally, we arrive at my karate class. She parks and I jump out with my gym bag.

"Bye," I call.

"Bye, darling. By the way, I'm going to do some shopping, so I might be a little late picking you up. Okay?"

I nod and rush into the building. As soon as I enter, I look around for Olivia and Nora. Once I spot them, I join them.

"Hey, guys, long time no see," I say.

Nora smiles. "Hey, Chrissie."

Olivia looks up from her book long enough to wave.

I plop my gym bag on the floor and start to stretch. They start stretching with me. We've been friends since I moved to this city in second grade. I'd been going to karate classes since preschool, so, of course, I kept on taking them and they persuaded their parents to let them go too. To them, karate is a hobby, but to me, it's a _passion_.

Mr. Anderson, the karate teacher, confidently enters the room. Immediately, everyone turns to face him. He's just the sort of guy that has that kind of pull.

"I'm going to review some old moves," begins Mr. Anderson, "but I need a volunteer."

A Japanese American boy steps forward. His comrade punches his arm and says, "Way to go, Kyle."

"Thank you for volunteering, Mr. Rivers," Mr. Anderson says. "I need you to stand here."

Kyle obeys.

"Now, these moves are often forgotten and replaced by the more complicated moves, but these basics are important," Mr. Anderson adds. Then he turns to Kyle and orders, "Try to kick me."

Kyle starts to, but before he has the chance to kick, Mr. Anderson pushes one of his own legs into Kyle's offending one, sending Kyle sprawling on the ground.

Mr. Anderson shows us several other basic defense procedures, and Kyle is often on the ground. However, Kyle does not seem fazed; instead, he takes his pummeling with a grin.

After the presentation, Mr. Anderson has us pair up to practice the moves. It's Olivia and Nora's turn to practice together, so I'm left without a partner. When I turn around, however, Kyle is by my side.

"Do you have a partner?" he asks.

Surprised, I force out a, "No."

He grins. "Then I guess I just found mine."

"What about your friend?" I ask.

"Some kid challenged Jake, so he's busy."

"Oh."

"So you'll be my partner?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Sure." I'm not sure what's come over me, I never lose my cool like this.

We get into position and bow. He strikes first, and I find myself on the ground. The trance is gone, and my focus is shifted to winning. He's got really good form, but so do I. I don't remember much of the fight except that it takes quite some time and a lot of well-placed moves to finally knock him down. Then Mr. Anderson calls our attention. Everyone else has finished their mini battles and are now watching us.

Kyle jumps up and mumbles under his breath, "No fair, I was holding back."

Those words hurt. I know that it is probably a lie to save face, but it taints my victory. And what if it they're true? It was hard enough defeating him as it was, if he was holding back, then he was a much better martial artist than me. It means I would be a failure. And failure is not an option for me. I have to be the _best_.

I decide that I don't like Kyle very much. He's either a prideful liar, or he thinks he's better than me, or- worse yet- he is. I don't care if he has nice looking black hair or smiling, brown eyes. It doesn't matter in the least that he has expressive eyebrows or a ready grin... I'm not even going to think about him.

I don't pay much attention to the rest of the lesson. I'm too angry to.

After class, I grab my gym bag and join my friends on the bench outside the building to wait for our rides. We talk about our slumber party some more. Then Nora's older brother Andrew arrives to pick her and Olivia up (they're so lucky to be neighbors-) so I'm left alone- but not for long. Kyle approaches and sits next to me on the bench. He waits till he has my full attention before opening his mouth.

"You fight good," he says.

I almost say thank-you, but stop myself when I remember what he had said earlier, so instead I say, "Too bad I wasn't good enough for you to unleash your full power against me."

He looks confused for a moment, and then realization dawns on his face. "Oh- you weren't supposed to hear that."

"Well I did." Just then my mother's car pulls up, and I use that moment to strut away. Except, halfway there, I trip over an outgrown root. I stop myself from falling all the way down, but it's still embarrassing. Seriously, of all the times to uncharacteristically lose my balance! I reach the car blushing. Then I jump into the passenger seat and buckle up. Mother is silent as we drive away, but I know it won't be long until she asks-

"Who was he?"

"Kyle," I mutter.

Mother cocks an eyebrow. "What's his last name?"

"Rivers."

"That sounds familiar... Oh, now I remember- I work with a Mrs. Rivers at the boutique."

I wonder at the coincidence. "Do you think they're related?"

"Well, they look very similar, and she's always telling me about her son."

"So that's a yes?"

She shrugs. "Probably."

When we get home, I retreat to my room to try to finish my homework before supper. I am able to finish everything but science, which is okay with me because physics is my favorite subject.

"What's for dinner?" I ask.

"My specialty: leftovers." Actually, Mother's specialty is lasagna, and she's good at just about every dish, but she's too modest to say so.

I look around the rather empty kitchen. "Where is everyone?"

"I'm here," Courtney answers as she rolls herself into the room. It's so easy to forget she's wheelchair bound unless you're staring right at it. I'd hate being confined to a chair all day, but she says she can still do everything she loves- like play the piano- so she's fine with it.

"Your father is working late tonight," Mother says. Dad is a policeman. Mom was too...

My train of thought is interrupted by Courtney's ranting of the day's happening, but I zone her out and continue my musing. Courtney has only been my sister for four years, when my dad married her mother, and we've been great friends since. She's two years younger than I am, and I'm always worrying that some mean kids might pick on her. However, she doesn't replay any such stories, and she's always happy coming home (and all the time for that matter), so I'm probably worrying in vain. That's probably why I got so angry when Carl was being bullied- his frailty reminded me of Courtney's.

"Earth to Charisa," Courtney says.

"What?"

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

Courtney sighs. "The shopping spree I was telling you about. I know you have a sleepover this Saturday, but what about next Saturday, after you help Mrs. Walters?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'd like that," I answer.

Courtney beams. "Goody!"

~~~

I plop onto my bed and start reading my superhero comic. It's a sad truth that while other normal, teenage girls read magazines, I read superhero comics.

An hour later, I turn off my light and go to sleep. The day's happenings and my comic's stories mix together in my mind, resulting in some pretty weird dreams.

Or maybe not so much of a dream. At least the siren going off somewhere nearby probably wasn't. But in my half-asleep stasis I can almost hear sounds of a battle intermixed with classic superhero banter...
Chapter Two

I wake up, and upon realizing that it's Saturday, I promptly fall back asleep.

When I do get out of bed, almost an hour later, I quickly go through my getting ready process. This time I pull on an older outfit.

I walk into the kitchen and slide into my chair while saying, "Morning, Mother; morning, Dad; morning, Court Jester."

"Good morning, Chrissie," everyone echoes.

I take a sip of my orange juice before asking, "What was so important that you had to stay late last night, Dad?"

"Well there was a bank robbed last night." Dad pauses for dramatic effect. "And when we got there, the robbers were already tied up and waiting for us."

Courtney eyes grow wide. "What happened?"

"According to the bank teller and other witnesses, a masked man entered the building so fast that he was next to the robber before the robber even knew he was there. Then the masked man disarmed the robber and tied the robber up."

I gasp. "Who was he?"

"Well, one of the witnesses asked the same question and he answered 'I am Villain Hunter'."

"Do you think we have our own local superhero?" Courtney asks.

I'm wondering the same thing myself...

Dad shrugs. "Maybe- we've been getting similar stories about a masked man who fights criminals."

For a teenager with a secret passion for comic books, this is exciting news.

"Could you tell us those stories?" I ask excitedly.

Mother, probably realizing this could go on for a while, interrupts. "Girls, you have chores."

Sighing, I got to on to spend the rest of the morning dusting, vacuuming, and daydreaming about potential local superheroes.

At eleven sharp I head over to our next door neighbor, Mrs. Walters', house where I have an unofficial job. About every Saturday noon I do her yard work and heavy housework. In return, she gives me a lunch of tea and lemon cookies and a regaling of one of her past adventures. She has tried to pay me, but I refuse. Though, every now and then, I notice an extra dollar that mysteriously appears in my pocket.

We've been friends for years. When my mom died, she became like a substitute mother (despite the fact that she's older than most grandmothers), until my dad remarried. Of course, neither of them could ever replace my mom, but I'm still thankful for them.

The door swings open before I have a chance to ring the doorbell.

"Hello, Mrs. Walters," I greet before hugging her frail frame.

She hugs me back. "Why hello, Charisa." Unlike me, she refuses to use nicknames.

She leads me inside and I ask, "What would you like me to do today?"

After a moment she answers, "I just want you to mow the lawn. Oh, there was something else I wanted you to do... Now I remember- I want you to move a bookshelf, please. I dropped my keys behind it."

"Okay." I go back outside to mow the lawn. When I finish, I head back inside. "I'm ready for that bookshelf."

She pulls a cookie sheet out of the oven and sets it on the counter to cool. Then she leads me to the next room and points to a short bookshelf. I grab it and carefully move it to the side. Once that's done I bend down and pick up a ring of keys. That's when I notice a safe in the wall.

"What's in there?" I ask.

She looks at it quizzically. "I don't remember, though it might be what my extra key unlocks." Frowning, Mrs. Walters puts the key into the lock and turns it.

"It fits!" I exclaim.

Just then the doorbell rings. Mrs. Walters starts to rise, but I gesture for her to stay and go myself. It's the mail. As I walk back, I glance at the mail; they're all bills and ads. There aren't any letters from Mrs. Walters' son. There never is. From what I know about him, he moved, started a prosperous business, and he used to call her on her birthday, but he doesn't even do that anymore. He's basically abandoned the woman who raised him because he has 'better' things to do. Who does he think is going to take care of him when he's old if he leaves such an example to his children? Ugh, I have a _lot_ to tell Mr. Walters if he ever shows up.

I walk back into the kitchen, where Mrs. Walters is sorting a lot of paper work. Next to the pile is an ancient looking bag of tea leaves.

"Hey, Mrs. Walters, did you find that in the safe?" I ask.

She startles and then answers, "Yes; it's just some important papers and a bag of rare tea leaves."

Putting tea leaves in a safe is a little weird, but okay. "Would you like me to put the bookshelf back?"

"Actually, I should sort this stuff, so no thank-you. Oh, dear, look at the time! You must be starving."

I nod.

"Would you like your favorite tea?" she asks.

"Yes, please."

I seat myself and sample a cookie. Finally, Mrs. Walters returns with two cups of tea.

"I remember my early days as a botanist," Mrs. Walters says, beginning her customary story. "I was fascinated by the thought of breeding plants. I thought it would be a life of adventure, but it was so time consuming and, oh, the paperwork!"

I take a sip of my tea and nearly choke. It's not that I don't like the tea- I do, thanks to Mrs. Walters- it's that this stuff is stale and extremely bitter, and definitely _not_ my favorite. It tastes like it came out of that bag from the safe. Actually, it probably did. Poor Mrs. Walters probably grabbed tea leaves from the bag because it was out. She's rather absent minded, so that is definitely a possibility. I don't say anything because I don't want to embarrass her.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say," She continues, "is that youth often makes things more adventurous and romantic than it really is. I was fortunate to get a job I love -despite the paper work- but I don't want you to make the same mistake."

I nod and choke down more tea. Then I pop a cookie into my mouth in an attempt to override the taste. By the time I'm finished with my tea, I'm going to have eaten, like, twice my usual amount of cookies. And that's saying something.

Mrs. Walters sips her tea. She has her own special brew, so she probably didn't get her tea leaves from the same bag she got mine. Lucky her.

I finally get the stuff down and focus on keeping it down.

Mrs. Walters notices my empty cup and plate. "Would you like more?"

"No! I mean, no. I'm, uh, watching my girlish figure." It's true- after all those cookies I can practically _feel_ myself getting fatter.

"Well, it was nice having you over," Mrs. Walters says. "Thank-you for mowing the lawn for me."

"Thanks for having me. It was a pleasure mowing your lawn."

Mrs. Walters raises a white eyebrow.

"No, really- if I had stayed home Mother would have put me to work anyway, and I prefer working outside to inside."

She smiles and shakes her head. Then we hug and I depart.

At home, I brush, no, I _scrub_ my teeth. I probably would have continued to indefinitely, but Courtney had asked me to play some board game with her. Besides, my teeth are actually starting to hurt.

During our epic game of Monopoly, I get really cold all of a sudden. I actually begin shaking.

"Are you that scared of losing to me?" Courtney asks.

"No, I'm just cold."

Courtney gives me a weird look. I don't blame her; it's in the seventies outside.

I don't eat much for dinner- the tea has really upset my stomach. If anyone notices, they probably attribute it to my being excited for the sleepover.

~~~

"Chrissie!" exclaims Olivia as soon as I enter the house. She runs over and envelopes me in a hug.

I look around before asking, "Is Nora here yet?"

"It's nice to see you too," she retorts.

Just then we hear another car pull up. "I guess that's my answer."

Nora gets attacked at the entrance by both of us. Then we run upstairs to Olivia's pink bedroom. Olivia has already prepared a big bowl of popcorn, taken out all her makeup, and piled up a bunch of DVDs.

There are few things that can make Olivia excited (or, at least, excited enough to pull her away from a college textbook), and sleepovers are one of them. She's practically bouncing as we plop our backpacks on the floor. "So, I was thinking, maybe, we could do makeovers first and home videos second," she announces.

"Sounds good," I agree- though I could personally go without the makeover part- and we officially begin our slumber party.

Nora is halfway through making me over with some neon makeup I would never wear on my own accord when suddenly, I hurt all over. My stomach hasn't been quite right since I drank that tea and I did feel odd on the way here, but that's nothing compared to this pain. I throw myself off of the chair I had been sitting on and then I curl up into a painful ball on the floor, silently praying that the pain will go away. I lie there writhing in pain until, just as suddenly as the pain had come, it's gone.

I sit up. Nora, Olivia, and Olivia's parents are all standing around me. Embarrassed, I touch my face and pull my hand away wet. Was I... crying? I quickly wipe away all my tears.

As the others stare at me in concern. "What happened?" Mrs. Doyle, Olivia's mother, asks.

"I don't know," I whisper. "That's never happened to me before. It was like having the worst stomach ache, the worst headache, the flue, and all my bones broken- at once."

Nora shudders. "Well, are you okay now?"

"I think so."

"Should we call your parents?" Mr. Doyle asks.

I shake my head. "No, I'm good now."

Mrs. Doyle doesn't look so sure. "If that happens again, we need to call your parents."

"Okay..."

They finally leave.

"How did they now I was in pain?" I ask.

Olivia looks terribly grim as she states, "You were screaming."

But I don't scream and I don't cry. Stupid pain. Where did it even come from? It couldn't have been the tea, could it?

"I'm ready for the rest of my makeover," I say, trying to change the subject.

When I sit back up and look at my reflection, I laugh. I look horrible! There is a long lip stick smudge going from my lips all the way to my cheekbones from when I made my quick retreat to the floor (thankfully Nora was applying lip stick then and not eyeliner!) and the mascara Nora had forced on me is ruined by my tears.

"Hurry up, please!" I exclaim.

That breaks the tension and Nora gets back to work. When she finishes, I look completely different. Then I start her hair while she does Olivia's makeup. After I have given everyone elaborate hairdos that I could never do with my own hair and Nora has done all our makeup, Olivia paints our nails. Then we position ourselves in front of Olivia's private TV (being an only child has its advantages). When our nails are dry, Olivia offers popcorn, but I pass it up due to the condition of my stomach.

The videos are hilarious. We watch everything from Olivia's first attempt to make a cake (it exploded) to my Dad's second wedding to Nora's first news show to toddler me running through the hallways wearing a cape over a pinafore (how my mom ever got that on me, I'll never know). We laugh so much.

Then comes my favorite part- when we turn off the TV and share secrets with each other.

"My deepest, darkest secret," begins Nora, "is that I want to be a reporter."

"You say that every time," Olivia points out.

"That's not even a secret," I agree.

She shrugs. "Can I help it if I don't have any secrets? I do want to be a reporter after all, and reporters reveal secrets- unless they're told at a slumber party, of course."

Olivia eyes her suspiciously as she says, "I've decided to bake an exploding cake for your brother- on purpose this time."

Nora giggles. "He'll notice you then!"

Olivia huffs. "I do _not_ like him! Why do you keep saying that?"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, my secret is that I'm going to ask Carter to be my date to the fall formal."

Olivia gasps. "But he's a junior!"

"And I'm a sophomore," I say. "What's the big deal?"

"He plays football!" Nora points out.

"And I do karate."

"But Vanessa likes him!" exclaims Olivia.

I smile. "I'm not one to shy away from competition."

~~~

Throughout the night I have weird dreams and often wake up to some part of my body in pain. At least I don't have the extreme pain everywhere like I did earlier. What is _wrong_ with me?
Chapter Three

I wake up feeling dopy. Between my abnormal pains and weird dreams, I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night.

I roll over to see the clock on Olivia's bedroom wall. It's almost noon! That wakes me up the rest of the way.

By the time the others wake up, I have already done my toiletries, gotten dressed, and (sort of) tamed my hair, and I am in the middle of removing the remains of last night's makeup.

"Hi, Medusa, do you know where my friend Nora is?" I ask a crazy-haired brunette.

She grunts.

Olivia yawns. "If she's Medusa, what does that make me?"

"A zombie."

Grunting, Olivia _almost_ cracks a smile.

While the others get ready, I continue to remove makeup from my face. Was Nora trying to transform me into a clown or something? What a trio we make: a gorgon, a zombie, and a clown.

When the others are _finally_ ready, we all head down stairs to find something to eat. Olivia offers us muffins she had baked yesterday for today's breakfast. Usually, I'm wary of her baking (she did bake an exploding cake after all), but I'm starving, so I take two. I'm still hungry after eating the muffins and tempted to take another one, but I remember all the cookies I ate yesterday, and decide to eat something healthier.

I eye a bunch of bananas. "Those are going to be brown soon."

"You can have one if you want," Olivia offers.

She doesn't have to tell me twice. "Thanks!"

That doesn't fill me up either. Then I remember the cereal bars I had packed as a midnight snack or breakfast supplement. I had packed four, so I could share, but I'm so hungry that I eat them all. I'm considering eating the leftover popcorn when Nora and Olivia return to the room.

Nora eyes me suspiciously. "Are you okay? Because you've been acting funny." Of course she thinks there's something wrong with me- I've eaten not one, but _two_ of Olivia's muffins willingly, after all.

"I'm just hungry, that's all."

Nora shrugs and plops down on Olivia's bed. "So I was thinking it would be the scoop of the century if I could get an interview with a vampire or something like that."

I laugh. "I would wear my hair down at an interview like that if I were you."

She sighs. "Unfortunately, there will be no such interview. There's no such thing as vampires or anything cool like that."

How horrible that blood-sucking humanoids don't exist. " _Actually_ , there's a possibility that superheroes exist."

Olivia raises an eyebrow. "You've been reading too many comics."

"No, really- my dad was telling me just yesterday about a masked man who's been fighting crime with unnatural prowess."

Nora's eyes widen. "Do you mean it?"

I nod solemnly.

She squeals. "Wouldn't it be so romantic if he rescued me and let me interview him?!"

I roll my eyes at her. "You know, that mask could be hiding anyone from a crazy, old guy to your brother."

Pouting, she tosses a cushion at me. "Who invited the party pooper?"

"I did," Olivia answers. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but there are some videos I'd like to watch again before your parents come."

We nod and review hilarious moments of our childhood.

~~~

Lounging in our living room, I listen to Courtney's fingers expertly coax music from the ancient family piano. I tap my foot to the tune. She's wonderfully gifted, even her music teacher agrees, though she admitted it in a rather unflattering way: 'It's rather surprising, but Courtney is probably my most talented pianist. You'd never suspect it, what with her being wheelchair bound and all.' It is barbarically Spartan to think that just because someone can't be perfect physically that they are worthless, which just isn't true.

Like Carl Sanders- he may be small, but he's a genius. Also, Mrs. Walters may be elderly, but she has acquired much wisdom over the years. Then there's my sister, who may not have the use of her legs, but she _does_ have the gift of music.

The music stops suddenly, and I startle. "Why did you do that?"

She doesn't look up from the keys as she repositions her fingers. "I hit a wrong note and I want to see which one so I can correct myself."

I didn't notice anything wrong, but then again, my only music-related talent is whistling. I shrug and head to my bedroom to read a comic or something. However, Mother intervenes.

"Are you feeling okay, darling?"

I shrug. "Sure."

She frowns and feels my forehead. "But you look a little feverish. And you feel feverish too. Why don't you go to your room and rest?"

Frowning back, I obey. After a fifteen minute nap, I feel like my old self again except I'm starving. When my mother sees me in the kitchen she gives me a suspicious look.

"I'm hungry," I explain.

She checks my forehead again. "Hmm, the fever is gone, but I want you to take it easy. We don't want it to come back now do we?"

When she leaves, I'm eating a bowl of chicken noodle soup from a can instead of my usual peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Usually, I'd be disappointed, but it's food and I'm hungry.

After that, I head back to my room to finally read my comic. Later, Dad pokes his head into my room.

"I just wanted to tell you that you'll be staying home while we go to the evening service at church." he says. "You need your rest."

Sometime after that, I notice the fever has come back, which isn't fair since I've been relaxing the whole day. I take another longer nap. Then I join my family for dinner and find myself just as hungry as I was at lunch (aren't fevers supposed to make you less hungry?). When it's time to for them to leave, Dad gives me special instructions.

"Just relax like you have been," Dad orders. "We'll come home right after church."

I nod.

"Call us if you need to," Mother adds.

I nod again.

When I return to my comic, I find that my fever is gone again. It doesn't take me much longer to finally finish my comic, and I'm left with nothing to do but look out the window (okay, so I could watch TV, but I don't feel like it). I watch Charlie Smith, a kid who lives across the street from us and whom I often baby-sit, riding up and down the sidewalk on his tricycle. He seems to be alone.

I frown; he's only four, not old enough to be out by the road alone. Where- oh, there, his mother is working the garden beside her house with her back to him. She looks back for a moment, and when she sees that Charlie is safe, returns her focus to a stubborn weed.

I look back toward Charlie and watch as he paddles up his steep driveway to show his mother something. He stops peddling for a moment and his bike rolls down the driveway into the street where it flips backward and lands on him.

Jumping up, I quickly slip my shoes on and head outside to help. He's too stunned to cry and his mother doesn't seem to have noticed. I'm to our sidewalk when a speeding car turns down our street.

I don't think- I run. I reach Charlie in a nanosecond, pull the bike off of him and throw it to the side. Then I swoop him up and run. We reach the sidewalk just as the car speeds past where Charlie had crashed.

Charlie is trembling. He looks up at me with tears in his eyes and simply says, "You run fast."

I nod and wait for my breath to catch up to me. Then I realize, I never lost it. Weird.

I carry Charlie to his mother who is still weeding, oblivious to what had almost happened.

"Mrs. Smith," I say, getting her attention.

"Mommy, I got a boo-boo!" cries Charlie. Then he starts bawling.

Mrs. Smith seems startled and takes him from me. "Where is it, Honey?"

In reply he points to various places on his body and she kisses them. Remarkably, that calls him down. Oh, to be a child again.

Then she looks at me, her eyes trailing past to focus on the bike discarded on the opposite side-walk, one wheel up and still spinning. "What happened?"

I explain as briefly and non-traumatically as possible.

"And there was a car," Charlie adds unhelpfully.

Mrs. Smith pales. "A car!?"

I sigh and nod. "Yes. A car was speeding down the street, but I was able to get to him before it did."

She hugs him closer. "How can I ever repay you?"

"You don't need to repay me; I really didn't do much- just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Maybe; but not everyone in your place would have risked themselves like that. Thank-you, thank-you so much."

"You're welcome." I hug Charlie and run off before Mrs. Smith tries to reward me or something.

At home I plop on the couch and wait for my fever to return. It never does. Weird. Then I remember all the other odd things my body had done. For example, with our rather wide street and with me on one edge and Charlie in the middle, tangled underneath his bike, it should have been impossible for me to get us both to the other side of the street before the speeding car got to us.

_In fact_ , if I had been trying to just run across, I probably wouldn't have made it before the car drove by. Plus, there was the lack of exhaustion; I didn't even lose my breath. I can't blame any of it on adrenaline because I'm not feeling any after effects. My fever hasn't returned either. If there was only one odd thing, it could be ignored, but all of them together seem awfully suspicious...

I grab a can of coke and sip it as I skim through one of my old comics, looking for an interesting story to reread. I accidentally cut my finger on one of the pages and quickly pull my finger away. Then right before my eyes, the freshly cut skin fuses back together, good as new.

Huh?

Maybe the cut was never there in the first place. But- no- there are a few drops of blood remaining on my finger, proving that the cut existed...

The fever must have come back, and I'm delirious. That's the only solution.

I rush to the phone to call my parents. However, in my hurry I trip over my shoes which I had left out. My shin rams into the foyer bench. I cringe, that's going to leave a mark. I sit down on the said bench and pull up my pant leg. Sure enough, a bruise is already forming. Then, suddenly, it fades.

I stare at my leg for a few more moments. What is going on? This wasn't happening Thursday when I burned myself in HomeEc. I still have that scar, don't I?

I check the tips of the three middle fingers on my left hand.

It's gone.

And so is reason. My breathing becomes erratic and I grasp the couch as a full-blown panic attack overwhelms me.

Except, I'm acting like someone who had gotten a horrible wound, but all that had happened to me was minor hurts mysteriously healing.

My swallowed screams turn into hysterical laughing.

Yep. Something's definitely wrong with me.

Pulling it together, I return to my comic book and can of coke.

I'm reading some superhero's origin when an absurd idea hits me: what if I'm developing super powers? That would explain those weird happenings and my really quick recoveries. It might also explain the freaky pain I experienced last night. I mean, acquiring super powers can't be easy.

Maybe I should test myself for super powers. I know it's crazy, but I don't have anything else to do.

I begin by closing my eyes and thinking happy thoughts, but upon opening my eyes, I find that I have yet to defy gravity. Then I flap my arms, but I don't take off. Apparently, I'm not meant to fly. Phooey.

Next, I use my stopwatch to see how fast I can run through the entire house. I start running as fast as I usually do, but then I realize that I can push myself to go faster. I do, and I go zooming through the house- it's like I have just unlocked some secret store of stamina inside of me. Last time, it took me twenty-one seconds (we don't have any stairs, but our main floor is huge). This time it takes exactly three seconds. Maybe I really _do_ have super powers.

Then I test my strength by attempting to lift our ultra-heavy couch. I've never been able to lift it before. As I try to lift up the sofa, I realize that, like when I was running, I'm not using all my strength. Yet, I can't seem to use it. I focus, and then I find that I can lift it- easily. And I do more than lift it; I hold it up for thirty seconds just because I can. I'm not even tired when I put it down. This is so exciting!

I test my wall climbing skills by running toward the wall, jumping, and hoping I stick. Turns out, I don't stick to walls. I do, however, jump really _, really_ high. Thankfully, my body is only sore for a moment, and then I feel just fine. I can definitely get used to this whole regenerating health thing.

Next, I test my mental powers, but no matter how long I focus on that dish towel, it doesn't move. Then I attempt to fry it with my eyes, but that doesn't work either.

After that, I test my agility. I somersault and cartwheel with unnatural ease, but I'm already pretty good at somersaults and cartwheels, so that doesn't prove much. Instead, I attempt a backward flip, something I have never been able to do before. I do it! Now I'm sure I have super powers.

I sit down as this new information settles in my mind. I have super powers! But how did I get them? I didn't have them on Thursday. What unusual thing has happened since then? I stood up for Carl; was beat by and beat Kyle; helped Mrs. Walters; drank horrible tea; slept over at Olivia's; and rescued Charlie- boy, I've had a busy weekend. However, none of that seemed like the thing that would bestow unnatural skills. Except, maybe, that tea- that stuff could definitely cause mutations.

The tea! That has to be it. What else could morph my genes or do whatever it was that happened to me. Knowing Mrs. Walters, it was probably tea leaves from a genetically engineered, hybrid plant, what with her being a retired botanist and all. Also, I didn't start feeling that horrible pain until _after_ drinking that tea- that pain was probably my body being mutated. The mutating might also explain my empty stomach, because one's body transforming would take a lot of energy. It also might explain my fever; after all, getting one's genetic code rewritten can _not_ be easy on one's poor body.

What am I to do with my new powers? Duh, I'll be a superhero!

But how will I tell my parents? At best, they'll forbid me to use my newly acquired talents until adulthood- and what good will that be to innocent victims of malicious criminals? At worst, they'll lock me up in a tower or something to protect me from the world that loves to study curiosities... But I don't want to be home schooled.

New question: how am I going to leave the house to fight crime without my parents' knowledge of it? I know the answer to that question before I ask it: the giant window in my room. I can easily get through it and there's no alarm on it.

And the most important question of all: What would I wear? My crime fighting outfit would have to cover every inch of me for the purpose of hiding my identity, but still be flexible. Something like that will be hard to find.

I hear the door open. They're back.

"Did you have a relaxing evening?" Mother asks when she sees me.

I try to keep a straight face as I shake my head. My evening was most definitely not restful.

Dad feels my forehead. "At least your fever is gone."

Thanks to my regenerating health.

"How was the sermon?" I ask.

"It was pretty good," Courtney answers.

I yawn. "Well, I'm going to hit the sack. Good night."

"Good night," everyone echoes.

I quickly get ready for bed and slip under my sheets. I try to go to sleep but all I can think about are super powers and super hero costumes and stuff like that. I'll have a martial art theme and go by the name Ninja.

Except, there's reality. And the thought of leaving my nice, safe bedroom to venture out into the cruel, dark world is really, really absurd.

I don't have to be a super hero. I can just be a normal person with a big secret. Who would blame a teen girl for not exposing herself to unnecessary danger?

By the time I'm half asleep, I've talked myself out of my superhero plan. After all, why should I do such a ridiculous and dangerous thing?
Chapter Four

I am in a store that is being robbed. Thankfully, someone has called the police and the police arrive before the robbers can escape. It's five police men- one of them is my dad- against five robbers and the robbers have the advantage because they have hostages. The police can't move for fear of the robbers' retaliation on the hostages. The robbers can't move because the police are blocking the door.

Then I see someone come up behind the robbers. Mom. She must have been shopping in the back of the store.

That's when I remember that Mom wasn't on duty the day she got shot.

I watch in horror as one of the robbers panic and pulls his gun's trigger. The gun was aimed directly at one of the hostages. I try to run to the hostage, but my legs won't move. Mom's could, though, and due to her nearness to the hostage, she pushes him down in time. However, the bullet hits her back before she can join the hostage on the ground.

The police take this moment of chaos to overtake the robbers.

I finally get my legs to move and I run to Mom's side.

" _I'm so sorry I couldn't help," I say, tears running down my face._

Mom simply smiles up at me. "No, you couldn't help, but now, my dear, you have the power to protect the helpless."

Dad runs to her side just then. "Hang in there, honey. We'll get you to the hospital."

" _Be strong," she says._

That's when I wake up, tears running down my cheeks.

As vivid as that dream was, I didn't actually witness what it was inspired by. That fateful day, Mom had asked me if I wanted to go shopping with her, but I said no because Mrs. Walters had invited me to her house for a tea party (I didn't usually like those kinds of girlie things, but her tea parties always had cookies). Halfway into the tea party, the phone rang. Mrs. Walters answered it. I remember wondering what was wrong when her face turned from its usual friendly smile to a deep frown. When she finally told me what happened, that my mom was dead, I didn't believe her. I was a child, in my mind, Mom could never die.

But she had. From that day on I always felt a little guilty. What if I had gone with her to the store? Maybe I could have prevented the tragedy? As I got older, those thoughts seemed silly, but they still haunted me. But somehow, the words Mom told me in my dream makes me feel better, even though it was just a dream.

I'm not sure how much of my dream was accurate, since I wasn't there, but I do know that in reality, Mom was shot at a store. And that she was off duty when she took that renegade bullet for a hostage. Also, I know that her last words to Dad were 'be strong'.

Her words to me might have been a dream, but I can't ignore them; they're the answer I've been looking for.

I'm going to be a hero. A superhero.

~~~

"Did you sleep well?" Mother asks.

I nod.

She smiles and dishes up some eggs and bacon for me. Her farm style breakfast is to die for (or at least to wake up early for).

There was a time when I was upset at my Dad for remarrying and 'replacing' Mom. But the moment I let down my guard against her, I realized what a nice woman she was. Plus, by marrying her, Dad brought not only Mother into the family, but also Courtney too.

As if I summoned her, Courtney rolls into the room and Mother gives her a plate of food.

"Good morning," Courtney greets.

"Good morning," I echo slightly less enthusiastically, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Dad comes in right after her and is given a plate as well.

After saying grace, Dad and Mother share a Look.

Dad clears his throat. "Charisa, Mrs. Smith told us what you did yesterday."

I nearly choke on my toast.

"Why didn't you tell us, darling?" Mother asks.

I manage to swallow my food. "I didn't know how to."

"You can tell us anything," Dad says. "Anyway, we want to say that that was very noble of you and that we're very proud of you."

I don't know what to say so I just nod.

"Mrs. Smith would like to reward you," he adds.

I shake my head. "I don't want a reward, I'm just glad that Charlie is okay." I also don't want a big fuss made over me, or more specifically, people wondering how I did it.

Mother nods. "Okay, I'll tell her that the next time I see her."

Courtney doesn't say a word. Instead, she just stares at me like I'm a superhero or something.

~~~

"Then he asked, 'Are you sure it won't explode?' And she said, 'I know how to make cakes that don't explode.' I guess she seemed so innocent, bringing everyone mini cakes that he didn't ask whether she would make an exploding cake on purpose," Nora says, giving me a run down on Olivia's greatest (and only) prank.

According to Nora, Olivia had made three regular cakes and one exploding cake, and then she walked over to Nora's house and gave a cake to all the Tanners, including Nora. She made sure to give the exploding cake to Andrew and also asked Nora to hide Nora's video camera where it could video tape the whole thing.

"Now show her the footage," Olivia demands quietly- something only she has ever been able to do.

Nora obediently takes her camera out of her purse and shows us the video.

I watch as Andrew waits until everyone else had tried their cakes before sampling his. However, his precaution was for naught, since he was the only one to possess an exploding cake. The moment he sinks his fork into the cake, it explodes. Instead of immediately wiping cake of his face he just said, 'I thought Olivia knew how to make a cake that didn't explode?' Then Nora answered, 'She does.' That confuses him even more because no one expects pranks from silent, thoughtful Olivia. So there he sat with cake all over his face and a confused expression besides.

We all laugh.

If only that laughter could have followed me from the bus into school.

~~~

As I walk to my classes, several kids whom I recognize from the group that was laughing at Carl give me pointed glares. Then they whisper why to their friends who in response, give me pointed glares too. I feel like I am walking around with an 'I'm a pushy goody two-shoes' sign hanging over my head.

English class is horrible because Mrs. B. has it out for me. I had heard that she was unforgiving, but seriously? I was tardy once, and I was late only, like, five minutes. Yet, through most of the class I feel her watching me, no doubt waiting for me to do something naughty.

To make the day worse, I have a horrible feeling of anxiety in the depth of my stomach over what was to be done this evening. Or is it excitement?

I am fortunate, however, to find myself behind Carter in the lunch line.

He looks at an odd looking dish and says to himself, "I wonder what that is."

I glance at it and answer, "It's broccoli casserole."

He startles and turns around. "Are you sure?"

"My mother makes it all the time."

"Is it good?"

I nod.

He shrugs and puts some on his plate.

Further down the aisle, we come across another interesting looking dish.

"Do you know what that is?" he asks.

I study it for a moment before answering, "Yes, they're badly squashed mini burgers."

"I wondered, but I wasn't completely sure. Thanks, by the way. What's your name?"

"Charisa. Charisa O'Dell."

"I'll have to try to get in line with you more often; you seem to know what the food is." He flicks his pale blonde hair out of his crystal blue eyes. Then he joins his buddies at the football jock table.

He knows my name! He asked my opinion! He listened to it! Maybe the way to a man's heart is through his stomach after all.

I walk back to my table, but I don't even have a chance to sit down before Nora asks, "So how did it go?"

I purposely take longer than usual setting my tray down and seating myself before innocently asking, "How did what go?"

"You know what I mean," she huffs, "your conversation with Carter."

"Oh, him." I wave my hand dismissively. "He asked me about a dish or two, what my name is, the usual."

Nora squeals.

Olivia simply says, "Turn around please."

Confused, I do as she asked.

She must have seen the question on my face because she explains, "Vanessa was staring at you so fiercely that I wanted to make sure you didn't have any holes in your back."

We laugh, and the day seems suddenly less dreary.

~~~

At gym during volleyball try-outs, Vanessa keeps "accidentally" bumping into me. Thankfully, her malicious accidents don't ruin my game and I'm accepted on the team. Though, I'd like to know who was the genius that put us on the same side of the net anyway.

In the locker room, I take a quick shower. After getting dressed, I begin blow drying my hair.

"Hey, Chrissie, could you give me a hand?" Nora asks as she fumbles with a major knot in her hair.

I oblige.

Ten minutes later, I return to my hair blow drier only to find that it had been tampered with. By the time I finally find the culprit (a bobby pin jammed into it), it's too late to finish drying my hair, so I have to pull my hair into a semi-damp pony-tail and hope no one notices.

Is Vanessa that angry over one little conversation with Carter? If she is, then life just got a little more interesting.

~~~

"Mother," I begin as she drives me to karate.

"Yes, dear?" she asks without taking her focus off of the road,

I take a deep breath. "What do you do when someone is keen on making your life miserable?"

She ponders my question for a moment before answering, "I think I'd try talking to that person to find out what they're so angry about and then try to apologize."

How did I know she would say that?

The car pulls up at my karate class and I jump out. Before I can shut the car door, Mother says, "If you want, we can talk about this some more later."

I nod- I knew she was going to say that too- and then run inside

Neither Nora nor Olivia is here yet, so I begin stretching alone. Halfway into my leg stretches, Kyle approaches me.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying not to sound pained from the angle I've forced myself into.

"I want to apologize for what I said the other day," he says. "I didn't mean to say it; I guess it was a subconscious attempt to save face. Sorry."

I stand up and notice he's a head taller than me, but I don't let that get me down (no pun intended). Then I ask, "So you don't like being beat by a _girl_?"

"No, that's not it. I can't stand it when I get beat by _anyone_. I'm very competitive, according to my mother."

That I can understand. I've been dubbed competitive myself.

"So, are we friends?" he asks offering his hand.

Just then, Nora and Olivia walk through the door.

"I don't know," I answer wryly. "Ask me next time."

Then I join my friends.

"You look pleased with yourself, Chrissie," Nora says. "Now tell us what you did to the poor boy."

I tell them about our conversation while they stretch.

"Wow," Olivia says, "I'd never be brave enough to say something like that to a boy."

Nora rolls her eyes. "Nonsense, Olivia- you were perfectly brave when you pranked my brother."

"That's different," she answers.

"No, both were instances of twisted forms of flirting."

"I wasn't flirting!" Olivia and I cry in unison.

Nora just shakes her head. Seriously, who died and made her the expert of romance?

"Class!" bellows Mr. Anderson before I have a chance to defend myself.

When he has our attention, he continues, "The Friday after this Friday at the usual time, we're going to have a little competition amongst ourselves, so you should definitely start training. Feel free to invite your friends and family to the competition. There will be a trophy for the top boy and the top girl."

I grin- love competitions; I just hope my new super powers don't get in the way.

~~~

The ride home is silent because Mother is waiting for me to ask her for more advice. However, I already have my answer- I just need to apply it.

I am able to finish all my homework before dinner, which is a relief. The last thing I need to be worrying about when I'm fighting crime is my English paper.

Dad is home on time, so we are all together for dinner.

"Is there anything wrong, darling?" Mother asks Dad.

He looks up from his plate of lasagna which he has hardly touched and shakes his head. "There's nothing terribly bad. It's just been a busy day."

Fighting crime will be a lot easier if I know where to find it.. "Is there a crime wave or something?"

"Well," Dad answers. "There seems to be quite a few muggers hiding out downtown, especially near the mall, but we've been flushing them out."

I nod and take my last bite.

"Did you see the potential super hero?" Courtney asks.

Dad smiles. "No, but I've heard more reported sightings."

"What kind of reports?" she asks, trying to sound disinterested and failing miserably.

I want to stay and listen- _really_ want to- but duty calls. I excuse myself and head to my room in search of a costume.

Let's see, I need something I can move in easily, and preferably something black. Oh, and it will have to disguise me completely- I can't have anyone guessing who I am and using it against my family. Which is just one more way for this to go wrong.

Biting my lip, I search my closet and find my scuba outfit crushed against the wall. Mother and Dad bought it for me when we were at Hawaii last summer, and I haven't worn it since then. I pull it out and try it on. Thankfully, it still fits.

Now I need some footwear, and I'm pretty sure that flippers won't work. I'll have to wear my black slip-on shoes.

For my head, I'll wear my ski mask and goggles from when we went to Maine one winter (we travel a lot). I pull my hair into a messy bun and pull the ski mask and goggles on.

Now I'm covered from head to toe, but I feel indecent in my skin tight costume, so I sift through my closet some more and unearth one of my old karate robes. I've grown out of it, but with a few adjustments it will be perfect.

Carefully, I cut off the sleeves to the shoulder. Then I put it on and tie my black fashion scarf around my waist. Okay, so I'm not a black belt yet, but I can't imagine fighting crime in a lesser belt.

Finally, I face the mirror and a strange black, gray, and white clad figure stares back at me. I don't look like myself at all. In fact, the only feature I can recognize is my stature. Hopefully there are enough five foot ten people out there that I don't stand out as the obvious option for the mysterious Ninja.

Before leaving, I open my door and yell, "I've got a lot of work to do tonight, so please don't disturb!" I don't specify _what_ kind of work I'll be doing.

Then I climb onto my window seat, unlatch my window, and, with a prayer, I step out into the night.

~~~

It feels so weird being out and about after dark. My stomach feels like it's tied in a knot. But whatever my visceral feelings, I have taken my first step, and I'm not turning back.

Now where should I go first?

To the mall, of course.

I break into a run, a super-fast run. As I run, all previous doubt of my possessing super powers disappear- my speed is unnatural. It's almost as if I am flying. And, oh, how good it feels!

Until I almost run into a building. After that, I pay more attention to where I'm going.

I'm at the mall in no time- well, not exactly. According to my watch, it took me three minutes to get there. Which is pretty good time considering the fact that it takes about fifteen minutes to drive from my house to the mall in a car.

Now that I'm here, my next job is to find some criminals.

I peer into dark alley after dark alley, all the while seriously wishing I had brought a flashlight. I waste twenty minutes like this until finally coming to a crime scene.

Two thugs have surrounded a teenage girl. I watch them manually remove her purse and start to check her pockets. She must be too scared to scream, or maybe they have guns; I can't tell.

I look around for help a moment before remembering that I am help. Then, without further ado, I rush into the alley and bop one of the thugs on the back of his head. That knocks him unconscious and he falls to the ground. Before the other thug has a chance to turn around, I bop him on the head too and he joins his buddy on the ground.

The whole thing happens so fast, I don't think; my instincts seem to have taken over.

I look up from my handiwork into the eyes of the poor girl the thugs had been robbing. She's shaking even more than I am.

"You should probably call the police," I say.

She gives me a confused look. "You mean you're _not_ one of them?"

"Of course not! Wouldn't it be kind of silly to take out my own men? A house divided itself and all."

She nods slowly and takes a phone out of her newly reclaimed purse, never taking her eyes off of me.

After dialing 911, she says, "Thanks for saving me, but, um, how did you do it?"

"I'm a super hero, it's what I do."

She gives me a look like I've been hit to many times on the head.

"I'm serious. I have super powers."

She nods slowly again. "Okay then, uh, what do you call yourself?"

Remembering the name I had decided on last night, I answer, "Ninja."

"Catchy."

We spend the rest of the time waiting for the police in an awkward silence. When they finally come, I morph into the shadows and let her do the talking because, while I fight on the side of the law, I don't have a legal permit or anything. Besides, that's what all my favorite super heroes do.

"Are you the one who called?" asks the taller of the two police officers.

"Yes, sir," the girl answers.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, sir."

"If you don't mind my asking," interrupts the other police officer. "How did you over take these goons?" he eyes her long, straight brown hair and petite stature. She looks like an average teenage girl- not someone who could take down a pair of thugs.

Looks can be deceiving.

The girl looks around for me. She seems confused when she doesn't find me, but quickly regains her composure. "Another bystander helped me, but she had to leave."

"She?" the shorter police officer asks.

Oops; I guess my voice was too shrill.

"Can you give us a full report, miss?" asks the taller police officer.

She nods and begins, "I was on my way home from the mall- I missed the bus, you see- and as I walked down the street, I notice a man come out of an alley ahead of me and start walking toward me. I turn around, and then I notice another man is walking behind me. Before I have a chance to run across the street, one grabs me and pulls me into an alley. They took my purse and started searching my pockets when a girl came up behind them and knocked them unconscious. Then I called the police and now you're here."

"Okay, may I have your name and number, so we can contact you when these guys are brought to court?"

"I'm Emily Rodgers," she answers, "And my phone number is---."

~~~

I search the shadowy alleys for another ten minutes. However, no more criminals present themselves. I guess the police sirens scared them all away. Oh well, I guess taking down two muggers and rescuing one innocent bystander will have to do.

I start running home, but halfway there, I trip over a fence and land face first into someone's yard. My first battle scars caused by a fence- now that's just wrong. Thankfully, my scars don't last long.

I'm soon home, hopping into my window and shutting it behind me.

According to my watch, my whole adventure took little more than an hour. Wow, that was one fast-paced hour...

Quickly, I change out of my costume and into my pj's. Then I head downstairs and join my dad in front of the TV. He smiles at me and I take my usual spot. To him, this is just another completely normal night. But then again, this might become a regular routine and other nights like this will become normal. Who knows?
Chapter Five

I wake up with a foggy mind. It clears up halfway through my getting ready process. Last night, I donned a ridiculous costume, sneaked out my window, brought two criminals to justice, rescued an innocent bystander, and got beat up by a fence. If that wasn't a dream, then that means two things: it was a busy night and I was awesome (well, except for the fence part).

I check my closet. Sure enough, there's my costume. It wasn't a dream.

I can't believe I actually did that- and everything turned out all right. I'm still alive and well. Emily is still alive and well. And everyone who those muggers would have beaten up if they weren't caught are alive and well.

I skip into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Dad; good morning, Mother," I greet. Then I slide into my spot. A moment later Courtney rolls in.

"Good morning, Court Jester."

She sticks her tongue out at me cheerfully before rolling into her spot.

"Someone's in a good mood," Mother says as she hands us our plates.

Who isn't? It's a great day!

~~~

"Wow, you're in a good mood," Nora says.

I seat myself next to her and Olivia on the bus. "How can you tell?"

"Duh," she answers just as the bus starts moving. "Your dimples are popping."

"Dimples?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

Olivia looks up from her book. "Wait, you didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"You have two dimples, one on either side of your mouth," Nora explains. "They pop when you smile."

"Oh, well, I guess I knew about them, but I never really thought about it."

Nora shrugs and starts talking about the reporting contest.

~~~

Physics is the only subject I'm in honor classes for. It's also the only class I share with Carter.

I am working hard on my lesson when I notice him out of the corner of my eye. He's looking at me, like he is trying to remember me from somewhere.

He recognizes me!

~~~

I don't get in the lunch line with Carter; he's too far ahead, but that's okay too.

At our lunch table, Nora frets over the upcoming math test, which is less okay.

"You can come over to my house, we'll study together," offers Olivia, the math whiz.

"I'll be there," Nora agrees.

Olivia turns to me. "How about you?"

I shake my head. "Volley ball practice, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"So," Nora says suddenly, "when are you going to ask you-know-who to the fall formal?"

I shrug. "Later."

After school, I head to the gym. There are lots of other girls already there talking and checking their phones. I don't know any of them personally, so I just play around with one of the many volley balls scattered on the ground.

A few minutes later, the coach, a tall, muscular lady with a bob and a voice that can be heard miles away, steps into the gym and blows her whistle.

"All right, ladies," she booms, "this is not gab time. Now give me twenty-five push-ups. And I don't want any of those wimpy girl ones- I want them real!"

Everyone drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups. I do them with ease. Love my superpowers.

"Okay, that's enough- everyone up," she orders. "I want you to do five rounds around the gym."

Everyone jumps up and begins jogging. I don't go as fast as I can, but I still finish first. Love, _love_ my superpowers.

"Now split into two rows, I want to see how you guys can handle a volley ball."

Immediately, everyone makes two lines. After she watches us toss balls back and forth for a few minutes, she asks one of the girls at the end of the line, "What is the purpose of playing volleyball?"

"To have fun," the girl answers.

The gym teacher shakes her head. "Wrong!" She looks at us. "Do any of you know the answer?"

"Teamwork?" one girl offers.

"Nope."

"Good sportsmanship?" asks another.

Coach shakes her head.

"The purpose of volley ball is to win," I announce.

"That is correct," she booms. "All the other things are used to reach that goal or are products of that goal. Now let me see how you play!"

Then she splits us into teams and we play a short game.

"Well, most of you play the game decent enough," Coach says after the game. "If you work a little harder, we might have a decent volleyball team this year."

I grin. I can't help it. I love volleyball.

~~~

I've missed the bus and Mother has already finished her day job at the boutique and driven home. She had offered to wait for me, but I said I didn't need a ride. After all, a jog never hurt anyone (except maybe that Greek guy who ran the first marathon). So I have a brisk jog home; though, I accidentally go too fast once- I sure hope nobody noticed.

At home, Mother is making dinner and it smells good. When I pull myself away from that beautiful aroma, I head to my room to do my homework. Sadly, I don't finish it before dinner.

After swallowing my first bite of Mother's delicious spaghetti and meatballs, I ask Dad, "Did you catch all the muggers?"

He shrugs. "It's hard to tell. We did catch four today, though. And last night, my fellow officers caught two."

"That's a lot of muggers," Courtney says.

"It is peculiar," Dad agrees. "Especially that so many of them are in one place, and almost in a pattern with how they're placed- it's almost like a goon union or something."

Mother's eyes grow wide. "Are you suggesting organized crime?"

Dad shrugs.

"Anyway," Courtney says, changing the subject to something less distressing (after all, she can only be happy if everyone else is happy). With her guiding hand, the conversation switches to much happier things.

After diner, I run upstairs to do the rest of my homework. Once I finish that, I return to the kitchen to help my mother with the dishes. Then I join my family for a time. After all, using the same excuse twice would seem suspicious. I head to my bedroom as soon as I can without making anyone suspicious.

I quickly change into my costume, and this time I attach a key-chain flashlight onto my belt before I leave.

I basically have the same plan as yesterday: track down muggers. Very carefully, I run downtown wondering where I should stop.

My answer comes in the form of a store's alarm going off.

The store is closed, but the glass doors are open- no, wait, they're shattered. Inside are five burglars wearing full-masks. One is guarding the door, two are ransacking the cash register, and two are grabbing things off the shelves.

I dash inside and knock out the one keeping guard before he can warn the others. Then I dash over to the two ransacking the cash register. The two robbers at the shelves see me knock out one of the cash register thieves. One of the shelf robbers takes of running while the other approaches me with a club. I wrestle with the other cash register thief for a moment, and then push him away just as the robber with the club conks me with it. It hurts, but only for a moment. Then I grab it and wrench it out of his hands. My strength surprises him, and I use that surprise to my advantage. After I've knocked him unconscious, the remaining cash register robber approaches me again. I raise my club at him but then he grabs it before I can bring it down on his head. This time, I'm the one surprised by his strength when he yanks it out of my hands and tosses it aside.

Terrified, I reach for the nearest thing, which turns out to be the unconscious cashier guard. Then I bring him down on the conscience one, who moans and then falls backwards, the cashier guard on top of him.

Brushing myself, I go in search of the robber that got away, but it's too late. He's gone.

When I return to the store, the two cashier robbers are gone. I rub my eyes. Did the runaway come back for his buddies?

Shaking my head, I search the remaining criminals for a phone. Yes, I actually have to use a robber's own phone to call the police to arrest the robber. The irony. And another good reason for my parents to get me my own cell phone, not that I can use it. Anyway, I find a phone and use it to call 911.

As I wait for the police to arrive, I take a look at my handiwork. Four unconscious men carpet the floor.

I shudder. I have done this. I have taken those men out with my own fists. Maybe it's a good thing the ones who did get away got away? When did I become so violent? Last time I hurt a person, it was for the deliverance of another human. This time, I've pummeled people who were in the wrong, but at least they weren't attempting to physically harm someone.

Stop it, Charisa. These people are criminals, and they would have economically hurt people. I did the just thing.

But is it my job to deliver justice?

I do not know.

At last, I hear sirens in the distance and leave. There is enough evidence in the store to convict the criminals, so I don't really need to stay around and answer questions.

I head straight home. I don't have the heart to hurt someone else.

My sleep is a restless and I have three terrible nightmares.

In the first, I am too late to rescue a victim.

In the second, I am the victim.

In the third and the worst of them all, I am the _victimizer_.

I wake up screaming. Dad runs into my room.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

I'm shaking. "It's nothing, just a dream."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes, Dad."

He kisses my forehead and leaves, and with him, my nightmares.

I fall into a happily dreamless sleep.
Chapter Six

I wake up late so I have to hurry through my getting ready process, and unfortunately I have to eat an energy bar for breakfast. I miss my eggs and bacon already.

Much to my horror, I actually take a nap on the bus.

On my way to math, I pass Carter. He waves at me. I wave back.

He acknowledged me!

Wow, in less than a week he's met me, remembered me, and acknowledged me. At this rate _he'll_ be the one asking me to the fall formal.

We have a pop quiz in English. I think Mrs. B. enjoys making us miserable. In fact, Nora claims that once when she passed the classroom, she heard cackling, and when she peeked through the window to see what phenomenal thing was occurring (Mrs. B. doesn't even smile), she said she saw Mrs. B. draw a big, fat F on someone's paper. Nora says some fanciful things sometimes, but I think that might be true. Anyway, I get a B-. When I look at my work, I notice I could have gotten either a B or a B-. Like I said, she's out for me.

At lunch, all Nora can talk about is her reporting contest.

"I am seriously feeling pressured here," Nora admits. "I have only so much time and I haven't even chosen who to interview!"

"You could interview me," I offer.

She huffs. "I'm serious."

I grin. "So am I."

"You are impossible!" She huffs again.

"I know."

Olivia quietly reads through it all.

At gym, I expect more pain from Vanessa, but she mostly ignores me. I guess as long as I stay away from Carter, I'm fine. However, that's not what I'm going to do. It's not like she can hurt me. Well, she can, but I'll get over it _very_ quickly. That is definitely a positive about being a superhero.

Which reminds me, do I still want to be one? It's not like I've become a big thing or something like that. No one would miss me if I stepped out. I'm way too young to be wielding this power. For crying out loud, I'm giving myself nightmares. I can save my, er, talents until adulthood.

"Charisa O'Dell, please come to the principal's office," the intercom system says.

Huh? I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't won any awards either. So what is it?

When I reach the surprisingly stylish office, the principal, a middle-aged, regal woman, bids me to sit down.

I can't help but blurt out, "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, Miss O'Dell," the principal answers. "I'm afraid you've been called to the office for quite a different reason."

"What is it?" Seriously, the suspense is killing me.

"Your mother just called. She said that your father has been in an accident."

My heart freezes. "Is he all right?"

"He's alive, but he's been badly injured. Your mother is sending someone, a Mrs. Walters, to pick you up and take you to the hospital to see your father. You are excused."

In a daze, I leave her office. I wander to my locker and grab the stuff I need to take home. I head to the parking lot to wait.

How can this be happening? How?

It doesn't take long before Mrs. Walters pulls up. I sit in the back, simply because that's the door I opened. I buckle up out of habit.

What if Dad dies like Mom did?

I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Then a whole torrent of tears begins flowing down my face. I'm blubbering like a baby. Some big, tough superhero I am.

A hand rests itself on my shoulder. I turn and see Courtney, a look of concern on her angelic face. There she is, comforting her lousy big sister who hasn't even given her one thought since she heard the news.

I try to stop the tears by mentally scolding myself for being so selfish. Somehow, that doesn't work.

"I'm so sorry," I blubber.

She looks confused. "For what?"

"For being so selfish."

She looks even more confused. "You're not selfish. In fact, you're quite _selfless_."

"No, I'm not, I'm a horrible sister."

"No, you're not; you're the best sister ever. In fact, you're my role model."

"But I'm not comforting you, _you're_ comforting me."

She shrugs. "This is a hard time for you, and it's only natural that you're upset."

How can I argue with logic like that?

"We're here," Mrs. Walters says.

~~~

I get to Dad's bedside as soon as I possibly can.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

Dad looks up at the sound of my voice. "Oh, hello, Tiffany."

"No, Dad, it's me, Charisa." It both hurts me that he didn't recognize me and flatters me that he confused me with Mom. "I'm your daughter, remember?"

"Oh, yes, of course..." Dad falls asleep before finishing the sentence.

Mother gently pulls me away. "He's been drugged for the pain."

"How bad is it?"

Her usual smile fades. "It's pretty bad. His left leg and left arm are both broken. Also, he has a lot of bruises and cuts. But the doctors say he's going to get better."

"How did that happen?" I ask, finally saying the question out loud.

"He was driving back to the police department after his lunch break when a driver comes out of nowhere and crashes into the driver's side of the car and knocks it over. Thankfully, your dad had gone to lunch with Officer Steve, who was able to help."

Her answer causes more questions to bubble up inside of me. "What about the rogue driver, what happened to him? Was anyone else hurt? Is Dad's car recognizable?"

"Well, the driver was apparently drunk and just stayed where he was. He's been arrested. No one else was hurt, thankfully. And no, your Dad's car is not recognizable."

I guess Dad will finally get that new car. "I have one more question. What was the driver's name?"

"Marcus Greene."

I shrug; the name is unfamiliar to me. Then I sit down next to Courtney.

"It's a good thing you don't wear mascara," she whispers before squeezing my hand.

That reminds me of my behavior in the car. "Don't you _dare_ tell a soul that I was, uh, you know..."

"Crying?" she offers.

I pretend to scowl at her. "Don't say a peep about it to anyone- or else."

She rolls her eyes. "Or else what? Will you cry some more?"

"Or else I'll... I'll... paint your toenails green in the middle of the night."

She gasps. "You wouldn't!"

"I would, and you know it."

She presses her hand against her forehead in mock dismay. "I guess I won't tell anyone for the sake of my tootsies."

That's a relief.

Usually, at this time I'd be at my karate class. However, today's an exception. Instead, I do my homework in the hospital room. For dinner, Mrs. Walters brings us some fast food. Then she drives Courtney and me home. Mother stays with Dad.

I feel kind of bad about leaving the house tonight. Even though Mrs. Walters is just next door, I don't like leaving Courtney alone. However, I have a duty to do. If I don't go, another innocent person might be hurt at the hands of an evil one. Like my dad was. Also, I have some pent up frustration and anger I need to let out, so I leave.

I reach the mugger zone in no time.

It's oddly silent as I creep along the shadows. But not for long.

_Blam_! Something bashes into my head from behind. Pain buzzes through my head and tears spring into my eyes. However, I'm better in a moment.

I spin around and see a person holding onto a club. I grab the end of the club and swing it around, causing the person on the other end of it to let go and go crashing into an alley.

Another thug with a club appears out of the shadows. I'm about to attack him when two more thugs jump off of a nearby roof onto me.

Is this a trap?

The one with the club attempts to strike me, but I spin around and he hits one of the thugs who had jumped on me.

Two down, two to go.

I grab the other thug attempting to hold me down and throw him at the club wielding thug.

"Surrender," I order.

The thug on top grabs my ankle and twists it, causing me to fall. Then he raises his club above me and prepares to strike, but I kick him, sending him backwards. He doesn't get back up.

Then I get back up and rush after the other guy, who is making a run for it. I catch up with him, grab his arms, and throw him back to the ground.

Suddenly, someone starts screaming. I spot the offender across the street.

"Shut it and call the police!" I yell.

Whoever it is stops screaming and pulls out a phone.

Then I drag the unconscious thug back to the alley his unconscious buddies are in.

"Who are you?" someone asks behind me.

I startle and turn around to see Emily Rogers.

"I told you already," I answer. "I'm Ninja."

"No, who _are_ you?" she asks. "I saw what you did to that guy. That's not normal."

I roll my eyes, though she wouldn't have known. "Tell me something I don't know. Hey, were you the kid who was screaming?"

Even though I'm standing in a dark alley and she was standing in a slightly less dark sidewalk, I can see her blush. "I was, uh, caught off guard. You have to admit, that isn't something you see every day."

"Uh-huh." Funny how easily I can talk to her. Rescuing someone must make you more open or something. Or, in her case, being rescued. "It was stupid of you to come over here. What if it wasn't me?"

"I recognized your voice and stature."

Oh, I guess I do kind of stand out. "Wait a moment- were you walking alone in this part of town after I had to rescue you the other day?"

"Of course not. I was shopping with my mom in that store over there, but I finished before her, so I stepped out for a moment. Then I saw you. I should probably go back before she notices I'm gone. Bye."

"Bye," I echo as she leaves.

I wait around until the police arrive. Thankfully, none of the goons regain consciousness before they come. Once I hear the sirens, I slip into the shadows. Hopefully the guys already have mug shots attesting to their guilt.

They must because the cops arrest them, though they seem a bit confused and keep looking around. As for me, the memories haunt me after even after they are taken away.

It was a trap, of that I'm sure, but the question is was it for anyone who wandered by or just for me? If it was for me, how did they learn about me? The only people who have seen Ninja and aren't in jail are Emily and those three robbers who got away on my second night. I'm pretty sure it wasn't Emily, so if anyone ratted me out to criminals, I'll wager it was the runaway burglars.

I wander around, waiting for a crime to break up. About five minutes after the police picked up the thugs, there is a lot of screaming at the convenience store that Emily had come out of.

It can't be a robbery. It can't. It's still open. It still has people in it.

Just like the store my mom died in.

I peak into a window. There is a person aiming a gun at the cashier. The half a dozen customers are lying on the ground with their arms raised in surrender. Thankfully, Emily and her mom must have already left because I don't see her.

I'll wait outside for the robber. I'll wait until he's away from the civilians before I attempt to take back the stolen money.

That's my plan until one of the prostrate customers foolishly rises.

The robber aims his gun at him.

"No!" I scream as I charge in.

My scream startles the robber, giving me the time I need to reach him and twist is armed hand from his would be victim. The robber yelps and shoots, but the bullet flies harmlessly into a wall. Then I wrench the gun from his hand and fling it to the side. In retribution, he punches me in the face. Everything blurs for a moment before becoming suddenly clear again. Then I grab him by his shoulders, shove him to the ground, and return the favor. However, while his punch had only dazed me, mine knocks him out.

I rise and turn to the cowering customers.

"It's safe now," I announce. "Could somebody call the police?"

The look the customers give me is a look I will never forget. They fear me. That fear leads most of them to whip out their phones and dial 911. Only one person, a middle-aged lady, approaches me.

"Thank-you for saving my brother," she says, gesturing to the man who had stood up. "He didn't understand because he has a disability, you see."

I nod. "I'm glad I was here to help."

The look _she_ gives me is also one I will never forget. It was one of pure gratitude. It makes suffering the other looks worth it.

I am about to leave when the lady calls, "Wait, to whom do we owe our thanks?"

"Call me Ninja," I answer before making a dramatic exit (that scene demanded one).

Just outside, I run into someone.

Whoever he is, he's wearing an outfit that is rivaled in ridiculousness only by mine. It's a full body camouflage suit, army boots, protective gloves, an army helmet, and a gas mask.

"Why, hello there," he greets, steadying me.

I quickly pull away. "Uh, hello."

Sirens sound in the distance and I start walking away. He follows.

"So the rumors are true," he says. "There _is_ someone else like me."

Huh? "Like you?"

He nods. "Super strength, super speed, the usual."

I freeze and turn to face him. "Wait, are you the guy my dad told me about? Did you prevent a bank robbery lately?"

"Actually, I've prevented _two_."

No way. No way! "What do you call yourself?"

He pauses drastically before answering, "Hunter. Villain Hunter."

"I'm Ninja."

"Nice to meet you," he says.

"Nice to meet you too." Wait a moment- how do I know he's the other super hero? He's given me no evidence, just a wacky costume, and any crazy stalker dude could wear a wacky costume."Why didn't you try to stop that robbery?"

"I was about to, but you got there first. I would have stepped in if you needed help, but it was only one guy and you seemed capable enough."

I nod slowly. "Well, I got to go." Then I dash away.

After I'm halfway home, I pause and look around. He hasn't followed me. Then I dash the rest of the way to my house.

I step into my room and lock my window.

"Charisa?"

I startle and turn around to see Courtney sitting in her chair in the corner of my room.

"I can explain!" I cry.

She flicks on the light and looks at me crossly- an unusual look for her. "You'd better. I was so worried! I thought I heard something, but when I came in here, you were gone! Then, suddenly, you're climbing in here wearing that strange costume. What were you doing out there?"

Oops, I guess I forgot to lock my door. Bye-bye secret identity.

I take a deep breath, "You're not going to believe me, but I'm a superhero." There, it's out.

She eyes me skeptically. "Prove it." She's giving me her best poker face, but I can tell she's scared.

I walk to the other side of my room and dash from it back to her.

Her eyes grow wide. "That was impressive, but is that all you can do?"

I shake my head. "Nope; I'm also freakishly strong and agile."

"Still, isn't it dangerous?"

I grab a comic and rip off my glove. "Not really. Watch."

"You don't have to do that," she says, but it's too late. I've already cut myself.

And right before both of our eyes, my finger heals itself.

Her already wide eyes grow wider. "Are you the masked 'man' Dad told us about?"

"No, but I might have met him. I'm the Ninja, or I have been for three days. I guess that's the end of that."

"Why?" she asks.

"Because you'll tell Mother and Dad, and do you seriously think they'll let me keep it up?"

"What if I don't tell?"

I roll my eyes. "You and I both know you can't keep a secret."

"Can too," she retorts. "Now tell me about your adventures. Then I'll decide whether to tell our parents or not."

I tell her everything.

At the end of my tale, the verdict is in.

"Okay, I won't tell," she says. "Wow! My sister is a superhero!"
Chapter Seven

The next morning, after I have gotten ready, I head into the kitchen on a breakfast hunt. Neither Courtney nor I is terribly good at cooking.

"Too bad you don't have super cooking skills," Courtney says over a plate of semi-burnt waffles.

"Oh, be quiet," I retort.

Courtney doesn't listen. "Are you wearing your costume under your clothes?"

"Um, no. I'm a purely nocturnal superhero."

"What if you're needed in the daytime? What will you do then?"

"That's not how I roll. I hunt crime; it doesn't hunt me."

"You should be prepared."

"Whatever."

~~~

On the bus, I sit next to Olivia and Nora, as usual.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your dad," Nora says.

Olivia looks up from her book and nods.

"It's okay- he's going to get better," I answer, "but thanks."

"Anyway, have you seen the news?" Nora asks. "It was... oh, I can't explain it. Olivia, show her the video on your phone."

Olivia reluctantly pulls herself from her book and reaches into her pocket for her phone. Then she hands it to Nora who opens a website. She hands it to me."Watch this."

I obey and begin watching a security camera's footage of Ninja's battle with the store robbery. After that is over, there are several interviews with witnesses. The woman whose brother I had rescued is teary eyed as she says, "I don't know who it was, except maybe a guardian angel."

"Well?" Nora asks when the video is over.

"That was interesting."

"Interesting? Interesting!" she exclaims. "There has finally been footage of the elusive crime fighter! And she has a name: Ninja."

I nod, dazed at seeing myself on TV, er, Olivia's phone.

"I mean," continues Nora, "this is like the biggest news of the year!"

I nod again, this time mourning Ninja's secret life. It's probably going to be harder to sneak around now.

"I know who I'm interviewing," Nora adds.

Uh-oh.

~~~

At school, there are whispers everywhere. I keep catching words like _crime fighter, superpowers,_ and _Ninja_. I am, for the first time ever, popular- in the oddest sort of way.

How ironic it is to hear the same kids who had laughed at Carl saying how awesome it would be to be superheroes. Ha! They'd probably be super villains. Don't they realize that if they can't be strong enough to be noble in the small things, they probably won't be strong enough to be noble in the big things?

English class is a little easier to bear. I mean, I've fought people who were a lot worse than menacing teachers.

"And class," Mrs. B. says, "I want all your homework-and I mean all of it- turned in tomorrow."

Then again, maybe not.

At lunch, Nora informs us about several different plans to get her interview.

"So, I'll hang around downtown and wait for something to happen, and when it does, Ninja will come and rescue me. Then I'll interview her. Should I do it?"

"No!" Olivia and I cry in unison.

She pretends to pout. "Well, what should I do then?"

"Stay safe," I answer.

"Set your sights lower," Olivia answers.

"You guys are no fun!"

"But we're alive," I point out.

After gym, in the girls' locker, I find myself pulling my hair into a ponytail. Two mirrors away, Vanessa is fluffing her hair.

Then another cheerleader comments on it saying, "You think you're pretty don't you?"

"Of course," Vanessa answers like that's the most obvious question of the year.

The other cheerleader, obviously looking for a fight, snaps back, "I bet you think you're prettier than me."

"Well, uh..."

"You _do_ don't you!" shrieks the other cheerleader before lunging herself at Vanessa.

She scratches Vanessa's face, and Vanessa retaliates.

I turn to Nora who has just stepped out of a dressing room. "We have to stop them!" I'm not a fan of either of them, but I don't wish bodily harm on them- something that they're going to afflict upon each other if someone doesn't step in.

I grab Vanessa and Nora grabs the other cheerleader. We work on pulling them apart.

By now, several other girls had stepped out of their stalls and are now gaping at us.

In her fury, the other cheerleader pulls me off of Vanessa and scratches _my_ face. I press one hand against my scratched cheek and raise my other hand to strike back. Before I can, someone else grabs my hand. I turn and see Olivia.

Realization dawns on me. I almost attacked someone. Someone who wasn't a criminal (though she _did_ act like one...).

One of the other girls enters the locker room with a teacher. The teacher stops the fight once and for all, but not the sick feeling in my stomach.

Nora hurries over to me. "Let me see it."

I obediently move my hand.

"Hmm, I don't see a mark or anything."

Thanks to my superpowers. The same superpowers I almost used on a civilian. I turn to Olivia. "Thanks for stopping me from hurting her."

"It was nothing."

But it wasn't. What kind of monster am I becoming?

~~~

Thursday afternoons are my only free weekday afternoons, with karate on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and volleyball practice on Tuesday. However, I'm spending this Thursday's afternoon at the hospital with my dad.

I wait on a bench outside the school with my backpack at my side. The plan is that Nora's brother Andrew will drive me there on the way to his part time job. Once I'm there, Mother will return home to shower and rest. She'll return this evening, before dinner. Mrs. Walters will drive me home.

Andrew takes his good, sweet time in coming. When I finally see his shaggy head of brown hair- the exact same color as Nora's (and almost the same length) - it's already fourteen minutes after school let out.

He signals me to follow him to his rundown, second-hand car.

I settle into the passenger seat and buckle up and wait for him to do the same in the driver's seat before saying my usual greeting to him: "You need a haircut."

"Hello to you too, Chrissie," he retorts.

"Also, you're late."

He revs the engine. "I couldn't help it; everyone wanted to talk."

I roll my eyes. "My, aren't you the social butterfly?"

"You know, there's a rumor going around that there was a cat fight in the girls' locker room."

"You shouldn't listen to gossip."

He grunts in exasperation.

I smile. He's the closest thing to a big brother that I have, and, oh, is he fun to annoy.

"Come on," he says. "Just tell me whether the rumor is true or not."

I pretend to zip my lips. "I'm not saying anything because you'll probably say some stupid boy thing like 'I wish I were there' or something. Besides, you didn't say the magic word."

"Ugh, why do you always pester me about that?"

"Someone has to teach you your manners."

"Fine, then, _please_."

I sigh. "If you really want to know, then yes there was."

"Man, I wish I were there." He flashes me an evil grin.

I punch him in the shoulder (lightly). "By the way, how was that cake Olivia gave you?"

He blushes faintly. "How do you know about that?"

I roll my eyes. "Hello, we're girls and we're friends. We talk about stuff. Besides, Nora videotaped it."

"What?!"

I laugh. If only I had a camera with me to capture the look on his face.

~~~

"I'm going home now, darling," Mother explains. "I'll be back by dinner. Until then, Charisa will keep you company."

"Hi," I say.

"Okay, I'm going to go now," Mother adds. "Bye, dear." With that she leaves.

Dad smiles at me. "Hey, Chrissie, how are you doing?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Fine- and the doctors even say I should be able to come home Sunday."

I grin. "That's great!"

"Well, I think I'll take a little nap. Did you bring something along to do?"

I nod. "Homework."

"Well, you'd better get to work," he says before closing his eyes.

~~~

The first words I hear when I come in my house are, "How's Dad?"

"He's better," I answer, "but still a little groggy from the medicine."

"Oh, good," Courtney says. "Guess what- Mother made us dinner. It smells really good."

After what we've had to eat today (Burnt waffles and cafeteria food) anything could smell good. Except my cooking (and maybe Olivia's)

When the table is set, the food dished out, and grace been said, Courtney asks, "Where are you patrolling tonight?"

I shrug. "My usual zone, I guess."

"You have super speed, don't you?"

I nod.

"Then use it to get a bigger chunk of the city to protect. Sure, the mall is safe, but what about the rest of the city?"

"Since when did you become such a superhero expert?"

"Since I read all of your comics."

"Why, you little brat!"

She twists her usually angelic face into a wicked grin.

"Anyway," I say, "what are _you_ planning on doing tonight?"

She shrugs. "The usual stuff, I guess: practice the piano; attempt to write a song; and then park myself in front of the TV."

That's my sister for you: _almost_ perfect.

"Well, I think I'll leave after cleaning up the kitchen," I say. "That way, I might be able to come back in time to watch TV with you."

"Sounds good to me."

~~~

When nothing happens at my usual one, I decide to take Courtney's advice and expand my crime fighting area. I've wandered about a mile away from the mall when something suspicious finally happens.

"Yelp!"

The source of the sound appears to be a (supposedly) deserted warehouse. I wander around the building, looking for an unlocked door. However, I find something better: a hole blown into the wall.

I crawl in and turn on my key-chain flashlight.

_Thump_!

I immediately head toward the sound. It leads to an upper room. I look around a corner and realize it's inhabited.

"Is it brighter in here?" asks a gruff voice.

I quickly flick off my flashlight. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

"I don't know," answers an even gruffer voice. "Go check it out."

"I don't wanna," says the first voice. "There's something spooky afoot. Let's just take what we can grab and go."

_Smack_!

I cringe.

"Shut it, you idiot, and check it out," orders the second voice. "We can't leave until I get into that room. This stuff is chickenfeed compared to what's in that room."

The first goon creeps toward the corner where I was hiding. Thankfully, I'm prepared. I knock him out on my first swing, but the thud of his unconscious body hitting the ground alerts his partner.

"Who's there?" he demands, pulling out a pistol.

I dash to his side. "I am." I knock him out just as easily as I knocked out his buddy.

Suddenly, I'm shoved to the ground. I turn my head to see a familiar army helmet.

"What are you doing?!" I cry.

He doesn't answer, instead he rolls us both several feet from where we were. A bullet whizzes to where we just were.

"Saving your life," Villain Hunter finally says. Then he jumps up and orders, "Stay here!"

He runs- he's incredibly fast- to the base of a higher floor that opens above this one. There, he jumps up the great height onto the floor. He then knocks out with one punch a goon I hadn't noticed before. Then he swings the goon over his shoulder and picks up a gun- probably the one that shot at us- before dashing back.

"You really _do_ have superpowers," I breathe.

He nods and drops the goon next to his buddy. Then he confiscates the other one's gun to.

"You saved my life," I add as I look where I had been standing before he had knocked me down. A bullet was crammed into the wall. I doubt my regenerating health could save me if I died.

He shrugs absently before dragging the first goon I took down to join his buddies. He confiscates his gun as well. "I do it all the time."

"You save me all the time?"

"No, I save damsels in distress all the time."

Excuse me? "I am _not_ a damsel in distress. If I were, do you think I could do that?" I point to the two unconscious goons I had taken out.

"You're not an average damsel in distress, I'll give you that."

I grunt.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're fun to frustrate?"

To be fair, I guess I'm getting what I deserve after teasing Andrew.

"Do you have a phone on you?" I ask.

"Oh, yes, of course." He pulls a phone out of his pocket and dials 911.

Once he finishes the call, he turns to me and says, "Anyway, I was thinking, we make a great team."

"Yeah, I guess so," I agree. After all, if he hadn't been there, I'd probably be dead.

"And it's more efficient to work together, right?" he says. "If we watched each others' backs, no one could sneak up on us. Plus, we'd be a pretty powerful crime fighting team."

I don't know what to say. Should I trust him?

Of course I can- he saved my life the same way my mom saved the life of that stranger.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to try working together for a day or two," I answer. "Then, depending how well it works out, we'll decide whether to keep it up or not."

He nods. "That sounds sensible. So, when and where should I meet you?"

"Across the mall at seven."

"Okay," he agrees. "Well, I'll stay with these goons, so you can leave if you want."

"Thanks. Bye."

Once I leave the room, a little dizzy with how fast everything has just happened, I hear Villain Hunter call after me, "It's a date then!"
Chapter Eight

This morning, I wake up super early in the morning for no apparent reason. I'm tired, but I can't go back to sleep. There's too much on my mind.

I tug my blanket up to my chin and roll over to my side.

My life has changed so much since last week. Last Friday, my biggest concerns were keeping up my grades, avoiding Vanessa, and getting the guts to ask Carter to the dance. Those things are still important, but now they're competing with my Dad's accident and my new double life.

Life is _so_ not fair.

I check my alarm clock and realize it's not as early as I had thought, but still too early to start getting ready. So I flick on my light and grab a comic. It's been so long since I've read leisurely since my nightly outings have replaced my usual reading time.

Fifteen minutes later, I get up and get ready. I reach the kitchen before Courtney and make another attempt at breakfast.

"Is it impossible, or does that actually smell good?" Courtney asks when she finally joins me.

I startle. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"I can see you don't have super senses."

I shake my head. "Sadly, no." It would have been nice to have super senses last night. Then I might have noticed the bullet.

"Did anything interesting happen last night?" Courtney asks.

"Oh nothing," I answer, "unless you count my getting my life saved by the mysterious masked man Dad told us about."

Her eyes widen. "Tell me all about it!"

I give her a rundown.

"What does he look like?" Courtney asks when I finish.

"He's tall and skinny- but muscled. His mask only covered most of his face, but not all of it. However, it was too dark to tell what color of skin he has. Also, he's young, as in around my age young. He had that aura about him. Anyway, that's all I could tell."

"Wow," she says. "Just wow. This is so exciting!"

Before she can say anymore, my school bus arrives and I rush outside. Normal life will have its way.

Olivia and Nora are in their usual spots. I join them.

"You should have seen my brother last night!" exclaims Nora.

Olivia looks up from her book with a sudden interest in our conversation.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Well," she begins, "he demanded that I delete the video of the cake blowing up in his face or else. And when I said no, he blew his top."

"What did he do?" I ask.

Nora leans closer. "He got really red in the face. Then he said he'd do anything I wanted him to do if I deleted the video. So I did."

How sad- that video was so funny. "What did you ask him to do?"

An evil grin spreads on Nora's face. "I told him to take Olivia to the bookstore this weekend. She needed a lift, after all"

The color drains out of Olivia's face. "You did what!"

I reach over Nora and pat Olivia on the shoulder. "Look on the bright side- at least she was subtle."

"H-h-how could you?" Olivia asks Nora.

"I was doing you a favor, since you were too shy to ask yourself," Nora answers. "Though I still don't understand how you could actually have a crush on my brother."

Olivia huffs.

She can deny it all she wants, but we know better- and she knows it.

~~~

At lunch, I scour the buffet for something edible.

"Charisa, right?" someone asks behind me.

I turn around and see Carter.

"Yeah, that's me."

He grins. "I've got a question about this stuff." He points to a greenish substance. "Is it swamp slop or alien goo?"

I study the interesting mixture for a moment before answering, "It's definitely swamp slop; it's too thick to be alien goop."

He nods very seriously before pointing to another dish. "Can you tell me what this is?"

"Hmm, it's either burnt cornbread or lava rocks," I answer. Then I put some on my plate. Sadly, burnt cornbread is the tastiest looking dish I've come across so far."

He points to another dish. "What about this?"

I study it carefully, and honestly, I can't figure out what it is. "It's a UFO- an unidentified fried object."

Carter laughs and slaps his knee. "So, besides identifying food, what are your talents?"

"Well I do karate and I'm on the volleyball team."

He nods politely.

We're at the end of the line, so I wave good-bye before walking toward my table.

"Wait!" he calls.

I pause and turn around.

"It would be really handy to have your phone number if I ever came across an unrecognizable dish."

Yes! "Sure," I agree, playing it cool as I give him my number.

I practically skip to my table.

"How'd it go?" Nora asks.

I'm too excited to even try hiding the answer. "He asked for my phone number!"

Olivia's eyes grow wide.

"How'd you do it?" Nora asks between squeals

"Well, when life gives you cafeteria food, you make lemonade."

~~~

"Ouch!" I say when a ball collides with my face during gym.

" _Sorry_ ," Vanessa taunts. "I didn't see you there."

Liar.

"Maybe if you stop daydreaming about people way out of your league you'd get into fewer accidents," Vanessa says with a flick of her bleached hair.

"Well, maybe if you stopped being so jealous of me, you'll actually realize how silly you are with all your social rules and cliques," I retort.

Vanessa gasps. "Me, jealous of you? As if!" Then she struts away.

I pick up the ball and return to the game.

~~~

Since I did extra homework yesterday, I'm able to do all of today's homework before Mrs. Smith has to drive me to karate.

"Thanks for taking me," I say.

"It's nothing, especially after what you did for Charlie," she answers. "Speaking of Charlie, do you think you could baby-sit him Monday evening from six to eight? One of my husband's colleagues was going to see a play with his wife then, but he can't go now, so he gave us the tickets."

"That was nice of him."

She nods. "So can you? Baby-sit Charlie, I mean."

"I'd love to."

A moment later, she pulls up to my karate class and I jump out.

"I'll pick you up at five thirty, right?" she calls.

"Yes!" I call back before walking inside.

Olivia and Nora are there already. I walk over to join them. Then I realize they aren't alone. Kyle and his friend are with them.

"Hey, Chrissie," Nora greets.

"Hey, Chrissie," Kyle greets.

I scowl. "I never said you could call me that."

He grins. "It's what your friends call you, isn't it?"

"Exactly."

"Anyway," Nora interrupts, "Jake and Kyle were reminding me which move is which. I get them so terribly confused, you know. And Olivia is no help," Nora glares at Olivia, who is quietly stretching, wrapped up in her own little world. Or her brain. Someone _could_ get lost in her huge mind.

"Was I really so late that you had to go to the _outside_ for help?" I ask.

"No, we were early," Nora answers. "I've already finished most of my exercises; I just need someone to hold my ankles for me to do the last one."

I step forward to help, but she waves me away. "You haven't even _started_ stretching. Maybe someone else could help."

Jake valiantly steps forward.

"Do _you_ need any help?" Kyle asks me with a huge grin.

"No."

He shrugs and saunters away to finish his own stretching routine. However, when he finishes, he returns.

"So, how was your week?" he asks casually as I chug my water bottle.

Images of my nocturnal adventures flash through my mind. "It's been hectic. My dad was in an accident."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Kyle says. "Is he all right?"

"He's coming home Sunday. Thankfully, it was just a broken leg, broken arm, and a few cuts and bruises."

Kyle nods and an awkward silence ensues.

"Did you know our school is having a dance?" Nora asks loudly.

"Really?" Kyle and Jake ask at the same time.

Nora nods. "Yeah, it's the fall formal. I think it's scheduled for next Friday. It _is_ next Friday, right, Chrissie?"

"Um, yeah." Oh, no, I can see where this is going.

She sighs. "And so far, none of us have dates."

"But that's just because we've been busy with all our clubs and stuff," I say. "I'm on the volley ball team, Nora is on the school newspaper, and Olivia is in the science club. What club are _you_ guys on?"

"We're both on the basketball team," Jake answers.

Nora isn't as easily distracted. "Most of the guys at our school have already paired up- what are we to do?"

"I suppose you could ask someone who doesn't attend your school," Jake offers ingeniously.

"That's a good idea," Nora agrees. "Say, Jake, would you mind attending the fall formal at my school?"

"I don't mind," he answers. "Just tell me when- and what I should wear."

Nora grins. "Meet me at seven at my place- here; let me write down my address. My brother will drive us there. As for clothes, wear a dressy outfit, but not a tux- the dance isn't _that_ formal."

"Got it."

"Do _you_ need a partner?" Kyle asks me.

I shake my head. "I'm good."

"Are you going alone?" he asks.

"Of course not," I retort. "I just have a feeling a certain someone will be asking me very soon."

Kyle shrugs, and then turns to Olivia. "Do _you_ need a partner?"

Olivia looks startled. "No, I'm not going."

"She will," Nora whispers to me. "Just you wait and see."

Poor Olivia.

"Class!" Mr. Anderson booms, and everyone turns their attention to him.

~~~

For dinner, I break into my stash of cash and order a pizza.

"You're really stingy, you know that?" Courtney says when she sees the plain cheese pizza I had ordered.

"When we're using _your_ hard earned money, you can order whatever pizza you want."

She rolls her eyes at me.

"So how was your day?" I ask.

"It was great- we're learning Beethoven's Ode to Joy in music class. How was your day?"

"It was fine."

"It was fine," she echoes gloomily.

"It was full of ups and downs."

She raises an eyebrow. "Like?"

"Well, Carter asked me for my phone number, but then Vanessa tried to murder me at gym."

Courtney's eyes widen. "She tried to murder you?"

"Let's put it this way- it's a good thing I have regenerating health."

"Wouldn't it be funny if Vanessa became a super villain?" Courtney laughs.

"No! It would be the end of me if she became as powerful as me."

"Okay, okay- I was just joking."

"So was I. I could totally beat her even if she had superpowers."

Between the two of us, we finish the entire pizza. Then I go on a chocolate hunt. I finally find a bag of chocolate chips hidden beneath the sink.

"Want one?" I ask Courtney.

"You shouldn't be eating that," she answers.

I pop one in my mouth and swallow it before asking, "Why?"

"Because, it was probably hidden for a reason."

"Of course it was. It was hidden for me to find."

She rolls her eyes. "You're impossible."

"I try my best.".

"But _really_."

"But really what?" I ask. "I have a right to this chocolate. It's in the constitution."

"No it's not."

I admire a piece of chocolate as I correct her. "Yes, it is. As an American citizen, I have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I pursued this chocolate of happiness."

"Now I know your kryptonite. I wonder what criminals would pay for this information."

"That reminds me- I should hurry up and clean up in here. I've got to be downtown by seven."

"Why so early?" she asks.

I crush the pizza box. "Because I'm meeting someone, remember?"

"How could I forget? You better tell me all about it later."

~~~

I actually reach the alley early. I feel rather silly standing alone in a dark alley. Finally, my watch turns seven.

"Where to first?" asks someone beside me.

I startle- Courtney's right, I definitely do _not_ have super senses. "Oh, hi, Villain Hunter."

"I was thinking we'd begin by sharing our super powers," he says.

I pause. Should I trust him?

"It will make working together much easier," he points out. "I have super speed, super strength, super agility, accelerated senses, and unnatural good looks."

I roll my eyes at his last comment (though he wouldn't have been able to tell- unless he had x-ray vision and could see through my goggles). Then again, disguised as he is, he could be either the most attractive boy ever or the ugliest boy ever and I wouldn't be the wiser. "Well, I also have super speed, super strength, and super agility. However, I don't have accelerated senses (how come he gets it?). Instead, it seems, I have regenerating health."

"No unnatural good looks?" he asks. "Now I understand the full face mask- I'd be ashamed of anything less than a super attractive face too."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

I decide to change the subject. "Where do you usually hunt for bad guys? I usually do it around here."

"I hunt all over the place; no limits here."

"Well then, we'd better get started."

We wander around without talking; peering into alleys, but finding nothing.

"Let's go further downtown," Villain Hunter finally says.

"Okay, but I don't know my way around there very well..."

"Then it's a good thing I do."

Should I go with this strange person into unknown territory?

He saved my life. I can trust him. Besides I totally have superpowers.

"Well, let's go," I agree.

He dashes southward and I follow.

The place he leads me to is desolate and rundown. It looks like a breeding ground for crime.

As I look around, a car drives up. The driver is studying a map so intently, he doesn't seem to notice his surroundings. Suddenly, bullets begin flying out of nearby alleys. The driver tries to drive away, but one of his tires has been popped by the bullets. Four goons, two on either side of the car, step out of the shadows.

I turn to Villain Hunter, who signals that I attack the goons on one side of the car while he attacks the goons on the other side of the car. He graciously sent me to the side with the goons that had their backs to us, and I make quick work of one. However, one of Hunter's goons across from me has noticed me and raises his gun to shoot, but Hunter grabs his arm and twists it into an impressive hold. The other goon on my side notices me too and raises his gun to shoot. I duck just in time. Then I grab his legs and pull forward, knocking him down. This momentarily dazes him and I take advantage of that moment to yank his gun from his hand. He grabs onto me, but I pull away and stand up. Then he pounces on me, shoving me back to the ground. I hit him on the head with the butt of his own gun. He rolls off of me, unconscious. Villain Hunter rounds the car just as I get up.

"Are you hurt?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Regenerating health, remember?"

"Good," he says, relieved. "By the way- I won."

"That wasn't a competition."

"What's the fun of having a sidekick if I can't have crime fighting contests?"

"I am _not_ your sidekick!"

"Ah-hem," interrupts a voice from inside the car.

I turn to the driver. "Yes?"

His eyes dart between Villain Hunter and me. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Ninja."

"And I'm Villain Hunter. We're your local superheroes."

The driver looks a little skeptic. "Well, thank-you."

"No problem," Villain Hunter answers. "By the way, do you need help with your tires?"

"Actually, I do- if you don't mind."

The driver exits his car and lifts his trunk revealing a spare tire. Hunter holds up the car as the driver pulls the old tire off and gives it to me. Then I give him the new tire which he puts on. We're done very quickly. Hunter and I should start a business. Our slogan would be 'Teenage superheroes- we fight villains, defend innocents, and change tires.'

"Thank you again," the driver says again. "I owe you a lot. Here-" He reaches into his pocket in search of something.

"You don't have to pay us or anything," I say quickly. "We're just glad to help."

Villain Hunter says nothing.

"Oh, uh, okay. Can I ask you one more thing?" the driver asks. "Can you direct me to the local mall?"

"Of course," Villain Hunter answers. He tosses me his phone. "Call the police, okay?"

I nod. We should add 'and give directions' to the slogan.

As Villain Hunter talks to the driver, I call the police. I finish before they do (the driver is really, _really_ bad at understanding maps, apparently). So there I am, holding someone else' phone. A very mysterious someone else' phone. Villain Hunter is so absorbed talking to the driver that I doubt he'll notice if I flip it open and explore its contents, super senses or not.

Would I want someone snooping in my phone (when I finally get one, that is)? No. Besides, he had trusted me with it, and I wouldn't want to break his trust- on the first day, no less. But then again, he hadn't said I couldn't...

My hands are literally shaking and I can't take it anymore. I just want one teensy tiny little peak.

That peek tells me nothing about him. The phone contains absolutely no personal information, and the only recent phone calls are 911; also, the only speed dial number is 911.  
Though, his wallpaper suggests that his favorite animal may be wolves.

"Find anything interesting?" Villain Hunter asks, suddenly behind me.

I startle, than blush (and become very thankful that I'm wearing a mask). For a moment I'm tempted to fib and say I was checking the date, but I don't, because that's wrong. Besides, I don't know how long he was standing there. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself."

He shrugs. "I probably would've done the same thing if I were in your place."

Note to self: don't trust Villain Hunter with _anything_ containing personnel information.

I hear a siren in the distance. Both Villain Hunter and I tense up.

"Do you have something against the police?" the driver asks.

"No, it's just that they have a terrible tendency to ask _questions_ ," Villain Hunter answers.

I nod.

"Well, I'm perfectly capable in answering questions, so you two can run along. According to my watch I'm too late for that sale anyway. My wife will be so disappointed. Oh, well, I tried."

"Bye, then," I call.

Then Villain Hunter and I dash away.

We wander around the alleys a bit more, but I think all the potential criminals went into hiding when they heard the sirens.

"Well, I guess that's enough action for tonight," Villain Hunter says sadly.

"Yeah," I agree. "Well, I need to head home now, anyway."

He leads me to our meeting place.

"Bye, Villain Hunter."

"Please," he says, "call me Hunter."

"Fine then, bye, Hunter."

"Bye, Ninja," he says, turning away.

Then, suddenly, he turns around and asks, "Wait, shouldn't I walk you home? It's the chivalrous thing to do."

I laugh. "Not in this case. So, same time and place tomorrow?"

"Yep."

I turn around and dash the opposite way, towards home.

When I finally reach my window, I'm scandalized by the time.

Well, at least I have an interesting story to tell Courtney.
Chapter Nine

I wake up to the smell of bacon. When I poke my head outside my bedroom door, I find Mother making breakfast.

I run over and give her a bear hug. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my house- I'm allowed to be here."

"You know what I mean."

She flips the bacon. "Your dad kicked me out when he realized that no one was with you guys- or making you meals. Apparently, he's tried your cooking before. I'll be returning to the hospital after breakfast and a shower."

Courtney rolls into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. "Mm, Chrissie, that actually smells good." Then, when she notices her mother, she rolls over to give her a hug. "You're home early."

"Someone's got to make sure you girls do your chores."

~~~

After completing my chores, I head over to Mrs. Walters' house. She's sitting on a rocking chair on her porch.

"Hello, Mrs. Walters."

She darts off her chair. "What is it? What's the matter?"

Oops, I didn't realize she was sleeping. "Everything's fine. I'm here for my cookies."

"Oh, yes, sorry for that," she says as she eases back into her chair. "I was just resting my eyes."

"And I'm sorry for startling you. I thought you had seen me. So, what do you want me to do?"

"I'd like you to mow the lawn and there's this giant weed in the backyard that I'd like you to pull if you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

My super strength comes in handy as I take down that weed- otherwise, it would have been a very formidable foe.

Once I finish everything outside, I join Mrs. Walters in the kitchen.

"Would you like me to push that bookshelf back?" I ask.

"Oh, yes please. Go ahead and do that while I get these cookies out of the oven."

I nod and go push it back. I really hope that those disgusting, possibly superpower-inducing tea leaves are sealed inside. I wouldn't want that falling into any other innocent bystander's digestive system- or a not so innocent bystander's either.

I return to the kitchen and take my seat in the breakfast nook. I check my tea before I drink it. It's my usual, thankfully.

Mrs. Walters doesn't begin one of her usual stories, so I ask, "Did you find anything interesting in the papers we found last week?"

"I just found the usual boring but important papers and some of Jeremiah's and my old research papers."

I tense at the late Mr. Walters' name, but Mrs. Walters doesn't seem upset; though, she does seem a little distant.

I decide to ask the question that has been weighing on my mind. "What about the tea leaves?"

"Oh, yes." Mrs. Walters sighs. "Those leaves were the last project Jeremiah and I worked on before..."

I nod.

She sighs again. "I remember the first project we did together. We were college students at the time- that was where we met, you know, at college. It was before we were even dating and we could _not_ get along. You should have heard some of the arguments we had. We argued about everything from what project we ought to do to whether disco was cool or not. We couldn't stand each other, but somehow we ended up getting married."

Her eyes glisten as she gazes at the wedding ring hanging around her neck. The sight is heart-wrenching and I wish I could have somehow saved her husband. But not even my powers can save someone from old age.

Sure, I can rescue people from speeding cars and sneaky criminals, but I can't do everything.

~~~

When I reach our front porch, I almost get plowed down by an excited Courtney.

"Come on- it's time to go to the mall!"

I roll my eyes at her giddiness. I mean, I like going to the mall and all, but Courtney absolutely _loves_ it. "Just a moment, I need to change and grab my wallet."

Inside, Mother is diligently checking every electronic in the house to ensure that it's off. She's nothing if not cautious.

I don't take long, but by the time I reach the car, Courtney is buckled up with her wheelchair carefully folded up and stored in the trunk. She's squirming in her seat.

Mother starts the engine and we leave.

"So, who's driving us back?" I ask.

"Mrs. Rivers will be."

I cough. I sure hope she's less irritating than her son.

"Mrs. Rivers offered to help when she heard about the accident," Mother explains. "She lost her own husband in a car accident."

"You mean Kyle's dad is dead?"

Mother nods sadly.

Poor Kyle.

"She said she'll meet you at the parking lot at five."

I nod.

When we pull up to the mall, Mother stops me before I can shut the car door behind me.

"Catch," she says, tossing me her phone. "Mrs. Rivers' number is on the speed dial now, and so is your dad's. So if you need either of us you know what to do."

"Thanks."

Courtney and I enter the mall via a clothing store.

"Look at that mannequin," I say, gesturing to a very detailed mannequin

"Oh, yeah?" Courtney answers. "Well, check out _that_ one- it even has a face."

The mannequin she's pointing at is _very_ realistic. Suddenly, it moves.

We both laugh.

"You have to admit, she _did_ look like a mannequin, and she was so still..." Courtney bursts into laughter again.

"Great," I say when I finally stop laughing. "Now I'm thirsty."

Courtney nods. "Me too."

We head to the food court and purchase two smoothies.

"Where to next?" I ask.

"Chloe's!"

I push her into the much too glittery store. She heads to the back of the store to look at the hair accessories and scarves and stuff. Meanwhile, I look at the sunglasses. I slip one on. Ah, much better.

"Hey, Chrissie, would you say this is my style?"

I turn around and see Courtney wearing a ridiculous scarf.

I shake my head. "Try that pink one."

"Ooh, it's pretty."

I turn back to the sunglasses rack. Then a familiar brunette enters the store: Emily Rogers. My heart starts beating a mile a minute. What if she recognizes me?

She doesn't even glance at me. Instead, she walks towards the nail polish stand.

I do my best to blend in, which is hard for me to do in a store devoted to glitter and all things girly. A century seems to pass before she finally chooses some colors, but _then_ she moves onto the jewelry rack. When she finally leaves, I realize I've been holding my breath.

Courtney checks out soon after that and we leave.

"What was that all about?" she asks as we walk down the mall.

"What do you mean?" I ask back.

"When that girl came into the store; you got all tense."

I bite my lip. "Was I really that noticeable?"

"Only to someone who knows you. Now, tell me, what was wrong?"

"Well... Her name is Emily Rogers."

Courtney's eyes widen. "Do you mean...?"

"Yes."

"Oh, no wonder you were terrified!"

We head down the mall to _my_ favorite store (they have the most awesome tennis shoes) and to various other clothing and accessory stores. Before we know it, the afternoon has faded away and it's time to head out to the parking lot to wait for Mrs. Rivers.

On our way there, I purchase a chocolate pretzel.

"You shouldn't be eating so close to dinner, you know," Courtney scolds.

I roll my eyes. "It's always a good time for chocolate."

She rolls her eyes back at me.

A minute or two later, my- I mean Mother's- phone rings.

"Hello?" I greet.

"Hello, Charisa," an extremely sweet-sounding though unfamiliar female voice answers, "it's me- Mrs. Rivers. I'm going to be pulling up in a moment. I'm the blue van."

"Okay, we're ready."

After I hang up, Courtney asks, "Who was that?"

"That was Mrs. Rivers," I explain. "She's telling me that she's pulling up in a blue van. In fact," I add when a blue van pulls up, "that's her now."

Courtney is still a little hesitant until the driver waves at us. Then I help Courtney in and fold up her wheelchair. It's not until I get in on the other side that I realize that Mrs. Rivers isn't the only other person in the car.

Kyle is there too.

Suppressing a groan, I turn towards Mrs. Rivers. I'm surprised by how young she looks- she doesn't look a day over twenty-four, but she must be in her thirties. She looks Japanese and has lovely, silky black hair- the kind I've always wanted.

"Thank-you for driving us home," I say. "I hope we're not burdens."

"You're welcome, Charisa dear," she answers. "It's no trouble at all. When Kyle told me your father was in an accident I just had to find some way to help." Her voice chokes up a little at the end.

Wait a moment- I thought _Mother_ had told Mrs. Rivers. How odd.

I turn towards Courtney, to see how she is- she's really shy around people she doesn't know. Currently, she's gazing out of the window.

"Is there anything left at the mall?" Kyle asks suddenly, eying the many shopping bags lying at our feet.

"Of course there is," I retort. "We only bought the stuff that was on sale."

Kyle grins.

"Charisa, dear," interrupts Mrs. Rivers. "Do I turn left or right?"

"Right."

After a moment of silence, Kyle makes another attempt at conversation. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes!" Courtney exclaims suddenly, and then blushes.

Kyle raises an eyebrow. "I guess that answers that."

"So what have _you_ been up to?" I ask.

His mother answers for him. "He's been running errands with me. We don't get to spend enough time with each other on the weekdays, so I try to make up for it on the weekends"

Kyle blushes faintly. Personally, I think it's kind of sweet- of his mom, of course.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Courtney asks. She seems to be warming up to the Rivers.

"We'll be at church," Mrs. Rivers answers.

"Really?" Courtney says. "We're going to church too."

Mrs. Rivers smiles. "We're Baptists, how about you?"

Courtney turns to me. "We're Baptists too, aren't we?"

"No, we're non-denominational."

Courtney shrugs. "It's all the same to me."

"Are you ready for the competition this Friday, Chrissie?" Kyle asks.

I nod and decide not to correct him about using my nickname in front of his mother. Of course I'm ready- I've got superpowers after all. Suddenly, it hits me: from now on, karate contests will be all about holding back instead of giving it my all. I feel a lot less excited- and a lot less ready.

"Are you ready?" I ask rather sadly.

"I'm always ready."

"What's your address again, dear?" Mrs. Rivers asks as she turns into my street.

I answer her and she finds our house quickly.

"Thanks again for helping us," I say as I hop out of the car and head to the other side to help Courtney.

"Yeah, thanks," Courtney chimes in.

Mrs. Rivers smiles again. "You're welcome again, dearies."

"Did Mother make any dinner?" I ask.

"Yep, a casserole."

As I reheat the casserole, I announce, "I'm going to make chocolate muffins for tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Courtney asks.

"Yes. The only reason I couldn't make us breakfast is because I never paid any attention when Mother made it- I was usually getting ready. But I paid special attention when she made chocolate muffins. I even made improvements to her recipe."

Courtney raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

I lean down and whisper, "I add more chocolate."

She giggles. "I should have known- you'd probably add chocolate to tacos."

"Hmm, good idea."

We both crack up.

~~~

From across the street, I see Hunter has beaten me to our meeting spot. I try to sneak up on him.

"Hi, Ninja," he says with his back to me.

"How did you know?"

"Super senses, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Which one did you use? Your ears?"

He shakes his head. "I used my nose."

Note to self: make sure to wear lots of deodorant around him.

"What do I smell like?" Do I even want to know?

"Like an incoming rainstorm."

I'll take that as a compliment. "Uh, let's get started."

I'm about to walk out of the alley when he grabs my shoulder.

"What?" I ask.

"We went your way last time," he says. "Now it's time to go my way."

"Your way?" I do _not_ like the sound of that.

He points to a rooftop.

He doesn't expect me to jump rooftop to rooftop does he? "No- absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because I could, I don't know, _fall_."

He places his fore fingers on his forehead, probably rolling his eyes at me. "I've seen you in action. You can do it."

"That's different."

"Not really; come on." He tries to pull me toward a building, but I don't move an inch. "You aren't scared of heights, are you?"

I don't answer.

Hunter laughs. Apparently, he thinks being a superhero means being without fear. "Well, I'll just have to cure you of that."

I firmly shake my head.

"Come on; it'll be fun."

I shake my head again. "I'm not here for fun; I'm here to help people."

"Jumping rooftops is more efficient, and efficiency means more time to help people."

"My dad always says to not do dangerous things when you can avoid it."

He shakes his head. "It isn't dangerous with superpowers. Besides, I promise not to let you fall."

I cock my head at him.

He smacks his hand against his chest, as if in despair. "I can't believe that you don't trust me."

He said it sarcastically, but there was something else in his voice. Hurt? He has a right to be hurt, he had saved my life. I sort of owe him my trust- and so much else.

"Besides," he adds, "you have regenerating health, don't you? So there, you'll be very safe."

I still don't like it, but he's convinced me. It probably would be more efficient. Also, I feel bad for hurting me. Besides, he's right, I _do_ have regenerating health. I'm strong enough to do this. "Fine."

He gives me a thumbs up before jumping onto the nearest building's rooftop and gesturing me to follow.

I jump up and land next to him.

He gives me another thumbs up. "Okay, what you do is run across the roof and when you get to the end, you jump. Then you land on the next one and repeat. Once you get the hang of it, you can peer into the alleys as you jump over them. If you see anything suspicious you stop, drop, and check it out. Got it?"

I nod.

"Not very talkative tonight, are we? Well, now for the visual example."

He backs up to the end of the rooftop, and then starts running. When he gets to the other end, he jumps. Thankfully, he lands safely on the other side, and on his feet, no less. It all happens very quickly.

"Your turn!" he calls.

I can do this. I can do this. I _can't_ do this.

"You aren't going to chicken out on me, are you?" he asks.

I can take being considered a chicken as long as I'm the bravest chicken, but since he's already got one up on me... I back up to the end of the rooftop and run to the other end. I jump. For a moment, I'm as free as a bird. Then that moment ends. My foot hits the next rooftop and I'm sent sprawling.

I look up, rather dazed, and see Hunter looking down at me. He offers me his gloved hand and I take it.

After helping me up, he asks, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I think."

"It's all right. Girls fall at my feet all the time."

"That's probably because of your horrible stench."

He slaps his hand against his heart. "Are you saying I smell bad?"

"No, I'm just trying to figure out why girls would fall at your feet- when they aren't jumping off buildings."

"Maybe because I'm mysterious and possibly dangerous."

"Well, you're definitely dangerous," I mutter.

"Are you going to try jumping again?"

I nod.

I run. I jump. I land, tottering a little. At least I land on my feet this time.

Hunter follows.

We continue hopping from rooftop to rooftop all the way to the heart of the city.

After a few minutes of wandering around the inner-city, say, "Well, it's been a quiet night."

Hunter tries to say something, but his words are drowned out by distant screaming.

"Never mind."

We both rush to the source of the sound. The screaming is coming from a bar. We run inside just in time to see a burly man wearing a ski mask slap a lady. The screaming suddenly stops. There are two other similarly dressed people in the bar. One is demanding money from the bartender while the other one is rounding up hostages and ordering them to lie down with their arms out. The goon who had slapped the lady walks to the doorway, probably to stand guard, when he notices us standing just inside.

He charges at us. Hunter pushes me aside, and then ducks. The goon trips over Hunter and catapults outside. Then Hunter jumps up and runs over to the thug robbing the cashier, who has turned his gun to us. I rush over to the thug guarding the hostages.

The thug aims his gun at me, but before he can shoot, I punch the gun out of his hand. Then, I kick him in the stomach, causing him to curl up in pain. Just as I am about to knock him unconscious, I hear a gun go off and I feel searing pain pierces my side. Just as it fades away, I hear another shot go off and I feel a similar pain pierce my shoulder. I turn to see where the bullets are coming from. One of the hostages is standing up, a gun aiming a gun at me with hate in his eyes. Before I can react, the thug I had been fighting with punches my head, sending me flying. I land with a thud halfway across the room.

"No!" Hunter cries.

My vision is fuzzy, but I can see Hunter dash to the goon I wasn't able to defeat and take him out with one well-placed punch. Then Hunter ducks as a bullet flies over his head before charging at the armed hostage, sending the other hostages running and screaming.

This whole ordeal takes place in a matter of seconds, but my shoulder heals and my head clears in that time. I jump up to help Hunter, but I'm distracted by the entrance of the goon Hunter had tricked outside.

I throw myself on him, taking him by surprise. I knock him out before he has a chance to react.

I straighten up just as Hunter reaches me.

"Are you all right?" Hunter asks. I can hear the worry etched in his voice.

"How many times do I have to remind you that I have regenerating health?"

Before he can reply, the bartender cries. "I don't know who you are, but I must ask that you leave. _Now!_

"But what about them?" I ask, gesturing to the unconscious robbers.

"I'll take care of them," he yells. "Now _go_!"

We both obey without another word, leaving three unconscious robbers and one unconscious rogue former hostage with the bartender. All the other former hostages have already fled.

We walk for a moment before Hunter pulls me into an alley.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asks earnestly.

"I'm fine."

He doesn't seem to be convinced. "Let me check, please."

Before I can respond, he gently places his hands on my head where I had been punched.

"I don't feel any tender spots," he says. "Does it hurt when I push on it?"

" _No_ ," I answer, pulling away from his touch.

"You don't know the limits of your power, Ninja. It can't hurt to be cautious."

"Look who's talking."

"Show me where you were shot."

I point to my left side and my right shoulder. Before he can do anything, I add, "I can take care of myself."

"If you could take care of yourself, we wouldn't be here inspecting your wounds."

"Hey, it's not my fault that one of the hostages shot me!"

"You need to be prepared to take enemies on all fronts. Now let me see where you were shot."

I sigh and give in.

He gently pulls my left sleeve down enough to reveal a rip mark in my scuba suit and whole skin. We find the same when he pulls apart the hole in the waistline of my karate suit.

"See, I'm _fine_ ," I say, both glad and relieved to be right.

"You still have to be more careful. Hospitals are risky places for masked vigilantes. And what if you _died_? I don't know who you are. How could I tell your family?"

I roll my eyes. "You sure seem very concerned for someone who recreationally jumps off rooftops."

"That's different," Hunter says, beginning to pace. "I just can't believe you got yourself shot."

"As I've said before, it's _so_ not my fault. I really didn't expect one of the people I was trying protect to shoot me. How was I supposed to know that I was defending an armed crazy person?"

He stops in his tracks. "What if he _wasn't_ an armed, crazy person? What if it was a trap set up by those criminals to eliminate one or both of us?"

I bite my lip. "They must have realized that they had a better chance to get away with their crimes if the mysterious, crime fighters that they've heard about were out of the way."

"Or they were hired to get rid of us."

"Hired? By whom?"

He shrugs. "One of the crime lords, I guess."

"Crime lords," I echo, my dad's words ring through my mind. Organized crime. Out here, far away from my nice, warm house, the words take on a new level of eeriness.

Hunter nods. "Yeah, this city has a couple of them: people who round up the vagrants who are dangerous to begin with- and make them deadly."

"Then shouldn't we try to take down the leaders?"

"That's the problem. No one knows who they are- not even their men."

Well, that isn't good. "I should probably head home now. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop and taking two bullets- I've had quite a night."

He nods and leads me back to our meeting place.

"Good-bye," I say.

"Wait, we haven't decided whether we're going to be a permanent team or not."

I walk a little further before calling back, "Of course." Then I rush home.
Chapter Ten

My alarm goes off at seven thirty to tell me to get ready for church. Somehow I drag myself out of bed. Today, I pull a simple white top and a pair of tan dress pants. My whistle stands out against my top, but I always wear it, so I leave it be.

Courtney is already in the kitchen when I enter it. She's wearing a pink, frilly dress. How anyone could willingly wear a dress like that is beyond me.

We each eat a quick bowl of cereal before walking across the street to the Smiths' house. I ring the doorbell.

The Smiths attend the same church we do, so when they heard that our parents wouldn't be home in time to drive us to church, they offered to fill in. Mrs. Walters also offered, but she goes to a very strict church that's attended mostly by people around her own age. We've only been to it once, when we first moved here, and the preacher had such a drab voice that he lulled me to sleep. Needless to say, we didn't return.

On the other side of the door, I hear the pitter-patter of little feet run to the door and a childish voice begging to open the door.

"Someone's excited," I say.

Courtney smiles and nods.

The door finally opens, revealing Charlie and Mr. Smith.

"Hi, Charisa, hi, Courtney," Charlie greets, "I can't wait to show you where I sit in the car!"

Mr. Smith gives us a tired nod. "It's all he can think about."

As soon as Mrs. Smith is ready, we all climb into the Smith's tiny silver car. There's just enough room to seat them and us.

"Why do you sit in a chair all the time?" Charlie asks after watching me fold up Courtney's wheelchair and stuff it into the trunk.

"Charlie, what have we told you about questions like that?" Mrs. Smith scolds.

Charlie lowers his eyes in shame. "Sorry, Courtney."

"It's all right. The reason why I have to sit in my wheelchair is because my legs don't work."

Charlie's eyes widen. "Why?"

"Because I was born that way."

"Why?"

Courtney shrugs. "That's how I was meant to be, I guess."

"Why?"

"I don't know yet, but I know there's a reason."

That answer seems to appease Charlie at last because he turns to me. "I can't wait for tomorrow. I already chose a game to play and..."

He talks all the way to church.

~~~

Once I enter the youth group room, it doesn't take long to find Olivia and Nora. When I had first come to this church, and I saw the two girls who had been kind to me at school, I knew we were destined to be great friends.

"Hey, guys," I greet.

"Hi," they answer at the same time.

I take a seat next to them. "So, Olivia, how was your _date_?"

Olivia turns a bright shade of pink. "It wasn't a date."

"Fine then, how was your ride?"

"Well..." she begins. "We talked about our favorite books and-"

"No way!" I cry. "Andrew actually _reads_?"

Olivia nods. "He reads a lot of sci-fi, like me."

"Wait a moment," Nora says. "You read _fiction_?"

Olivia nods again. "Anyway, then we talked about our choice of music. It turns out that he likes rock & roll-"

"Duh," Nora says.

"And country," Olivia continues.

I cough. "Wait, did you say he likes _country_?"

"Yes, now, as I was saying, I told him I like-"

A voice from behind us asks, "What are you girls talking about?"

Olivia's face goes from pink to red.

"None of your business," Nora tells her brother.

"I think it is," he says. "Or are you talking about a different Andrew?"

"Please take a seat, everyone," Pastor Jon calls.

Andrew gives Nora a we'll talk later look before returning to his friends.

Saved by the bell- kind of.

~~~

After church, the Smiths drive us back home. Then Courtney and I play a rematch of Monopoly while we wait for Dad and Mother to come home.

The phone rings and I answer it. "Hi."

"Hi, Charisa, it's me, Mother. I just wanted to say we are on our way home."

Fifteen minutes later, they arrive.

I run over and give Dad a big squeeze.

"Wow, it's nice to see you too," he says, "but be careful. I'm not healed yet."

Right, not everyone can heal as quickly as me. I step back. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"That's okay; just try to avoid my left side."

I nod and hug him more gently. Then I hug Mother- and Courtney too for good measure.

After everyone has hugged and been hugged, Mother orders pizza.

While we wait for dinner to arrive, she asks, "So, how was being home alone like?"

"The food wasn't as tasty," Courtney answers.

"I was stuck doing the dishes every night," I add.

"I think they missed you dear," Dad says.

"And my cooking," she agrees.

I watch as the pizza truck pulls up into our driveway. "Speaking of cooking, dinner's here."

"Mm," Dad says, "I can't wait to eat non-hospital food."

"And I can't wait to eat non-burnt food," Courtney adds.

After Mother brings the pizza inside, I set the table while she cuts up the pizza. One pizza is half barbeque chicken (my favorite) and half Hawaiian (Courtney's favorite since we went to Hawaii). The other pizza is half vegetable (Mother's favorite) and half meat (Dad's favorite).

"No more boring cheese pizza for me," Courtney says as she rolls over to her place of the table.

After we've all taken our seats and Dad has said grace, I say, "By the way, Mrs. Smith wants me to baby-sit Charlie tomorrow evening. Is that all right?"

"Of course, Darling," Mother replies.

Dad gulps down some milk. "I bet you girls have had a lot of fun these last two few nights. You didn't have any parties, did you?"

"No, of course not," Courtney answers. "Though, Charisa-"

I elbow her.

"...and I have been watching a lot of TV," she finishes.

_Whew_ , that was a close one.

Sure, Courtney would never purposely spill the beans, but she doesn't always think before she talks- which can be a problem.

"I made muffins for dessert," I announce, changing the subject.

"Let me guess," Dad says, "they're chocolate."

I nod.

"Sounds good to me."

After dinner and dessert, Mother visits our neighbors to personally thank them. Dad settles himself into his favorite armchair with a book and promptly falls asleep. And I decide that it's a good time to have a little conversation with Courtney about the importance of keeping certain secrets.

"Courtney," I say as I wheel her into my room, "you have to be more careful."

She smiles at me sheepishly as I shut my door. "Sorry, I just slipped."

"I know, but that kind of slip could get me grounded for life. They would lock me up and never let me see the light of day again."

"I'll try to do better next time."

"And the time after that and the time after that and the time after that-"

"Okay!" she cries. "I get the point."

When Mother is done visiting, I wake up Dad.

"I wasn't sleeping," he insists, still half-asleep.

"It's time for family movie night," I say.

He nods and then turns his chair around so it's facing the TV. Then he, Mother, Courtney, and I watch an action flick marathon.

By the time I retire to my room, my clock says it's nine.

Oh, no! I completely forgot about Hunter!

I change quickly, jump out of my window, and begin running.

When I reach the meeting place, I see that Hunter isn't there.

Ugh, he probably ran off without me. Well, I can't blame him. I'll wait here for fifteen minutes and if he doesn't come back, I'll do the same.

I shudder. I don't want to fight crime alone again. It seems somehow safer with a partner, superhuman or not.

Suddenly, I remember the man who had wrenched the club out of my hand. Was he superhuman too? In that case, I'd _really_ prefer to have a superhuman partner with him so at least he'd be outnumbered.

Ten minutes later, Hunter drops in- literally, he drops down from the rooftop.

"There you are!" he exclaims. "You're late. Really, really late."

"I'm so sorry, I lost track of time."

Hunter shakes his head. "Fifteen minutes I can understand. Half an hour I can understand. But two hours?"

"I said I was sorry. I just got sidetracked by the TV." And a touching reunion with my family.

He shakes his head again.

"By the way, I won't be able to come at seven anymore. Could we change our meeting time to nine?"

"Why can't you come at seven anymore? Is there something wrong at your house?"

"No, nothing is wrong. Actually, things have changed for the better."

"All right then; it was getting hard for me to come so early too."

"Now that that's taken care of," I begin, "we'd better get back to work."

~~~

"It's been a quiet night," I say as I take a seat at the edge of a rooftop, my feet dangling.

"Yep," Hunter agrees, sitting down beside me.

Here we are, two super powered teenagers hunting for crime in the city and not finding it. What are we doing here? _I_ should be in my room. I don't know where Hunter should be. Or, come to think about it, why he's here in the first place.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"To fight crime."

"Yeah, but _why_? You could be anywhere else, do anything else, yet you choose to fight crime and protect the innocents. Why?"

He cocks his head at me. "I could ask the same of you."

"I asked you first."

"Fine, if you have to know, I chose to be a crime fighter due to a very traumatic incident when I was a child. I was at a supermarket with my mother. It should have been a very normal type of day, but it wasn't. While we were there, several men walked into the building and one ordered us customers to raise our arms."

I feel my mouth go dry.

"I didn't understand what was going on," Hunter continues, "but my mom looked so scared. We stood like that for a while and watched as several of the men emptied cash registers. Then, the police came and I thought we were saved. But they didn't do anything but yell orders at the guys. And suddenly a lady pushed me to the ground."

I feel blood rushing to my ears. Am I seriously hearing what I think I'm hearing?

"What happened next was chaos and I can't tell you exactly what happened. All I truly saw was the blood on the lady who pushed me aside. Then I knew: she saved my life. My mom pulled me away, into a corner as police officers and criminals fought. I squirmed and squirmed, but Mom didn't let me go. I wanted to thank the lady who had saved me, but by the time everything was cleared, an ambulance had taken her away. I don't know what happened to her. But that's why I fight crime. To thank her for what she did for me."

I feel tears well up in my eyes. I try to choke them down. Come on, Charisa, don't cry. Not in front of Hunter. Talk about embarrassing.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Hunter asks.

"My mom. That was my mom. That's how she died."

He places his hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know." To himself he whispers, "She died rescuing me."

"It's not your fault," I somehow gasp between sobs. "She'd be glad to know that you're doing this."

Hunter is silent for a moment. "Is that why you do it? To be more like her?"

"Yes."

"You remind me of her, you know."

I stand up. "Thank you. I-I should probably head home now, since we haven't found any crime to fight."

Hunter nods and gets up.

We don't talk as he leads me to our meeting place. But I think. A lot.

He's the reason my mom is dead.

No, he's not. The person who pulled the trigger is at fault, not the innocent almost victim. Besides, Mom wouldn't want me to blame him for her death.

The thought that bugs me most of all; however, is that he was with Mom when it happened and I wasn't.

As I crawl into bed, I try to imagine that all is right with the world. After all, Dad and Mother are both back. We're all together again.

The problem with trying to placebo yourself is that you know that it's a placebo.
Chapter Eleven

There is something about a good night's sleep that makes things seem better. Or maybe, things that seem terrible in the dark of night lose their terror in morning's light. Either way, I feel much more emotionally stable now than I was last night. Ugh, I can't believe I let Hunter see me break down.

When I walk into the kitchen, Mother is already there making breakfast. Everyone else soon joins us.

"So, Dad, how are you spending your day?" I ask as I pour myself a cup of orange juice.

He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I'll read or watch TV or something."

His voice seems gloomy. I guess he really misses his job. I'd probably feel the same way if I was in his place.

"Would you like some more eggs, Chrissie?" Mother asks. "After all, you have a busy day ahead of you, with karate and babysitting and all."

Which reminds me... "Did I ever tell you guys about my karate competition this Friday?"

"No," Dad says.

"Oh, I guess I forgot." Who can blame me? There's a lot going on in my life right now- like, well there's such a long list that I won't bother thinking about it. "Well, this Friday at the usual time there's going to be a little contest between us students. We're supposed to invite our families."

Mother and Dad give each other one of their entire-conversations-in-one-glance looks before turning back to me. "We'll be there if we can," Mother finally says.

On the school bus, I join Olivia and Nora in our usual spot.

"Guess what," I say as I take my seat. "I'm going to do _it_ today."

Nora gives me a confused look. "Do what?"

I lower my voice to a whisper. "I'm going to ask Carter to the dance."

Olivia looks up from her book with wide eyes.

"Finally," Nora says, "the dance is, like, this Friday."

This Friday? With my karate contest? Why didn't I realize that sooner? Ugh, this is going to be one crazy weekend.

Well, that doesn't change anything. I'm doing them both. And I'm doing the dance with Carter.

Throughout my first period and second period classes, I keep thinking _I can do it_. Halfway through my third period class my chant has changed to _I can do it- I think._ by my fourth period class I am thinking _I can't do it unless I'm abducted by aliens and have the cowardly part of my mind removed and then am sent back to earth with the mission to ask Carter to the dance or the aforementioned aliens will conquer the earth._ I mean, sure he had asked for my number, but he has yet to call me. Or, maybe he has called my house when no one was there and decided not to leave a message. Worst yet, what if I accidentally gave him Dad's number and _he_ answered it in his half-asleep state and told Carter every embarrassing moment I ever had.

Stop it, Charisa, you are not being rational. Dad would sooner yell at a boy who asks for me than tell him all my secrets. Besides, he promised not to tell anyone about the shaving cream and lipstick incident.

By lunch time, I have pumped myself up again and feel ready. There's nothing to be nervous about. And if I don't do it now, I'll never do it and Vanessa will ask him. I can _not_ let that happen.

I get to the cafeteria early and keep looking around for him. Finally, I see him enter. He's coming this way- no; he just wants to talk to that guy. Okay, now he's coming this way.

I wait until he joins the lunch line before approaching him.

I clear my throat. He turns around.

"Oh, hi, Charisa," he greets.

"Hi, Carter," I answer, and with a surge of confidence I continue, "I was wondering if you would go to the fall formal with me."

"Oh, uh." He nervously combs his hand through his hair, "I already asked Vanessa."

Ouch.

I say nothing. Everything becomes a blur, which is good. Once this numbness wears off, my pride is going to _hurt_.

I'm not sure what I tell Olivia and Nora. Sometime during lunch, the numbness wears off and I feel humiliated and angry, but mostly humiliated.

~~~

As Mother drives me to karate, I think.

I can't go to the dance alone, I need someone else -someone attractive- to be my partner or Vanessa will never let me live this down. One day when we're both middle-aged we'll run into each other at the grocery store and she'll gloat over how she went to her first high school dance with my dream guy and I will have absolutely no come back.

I cannot let that happen.

But who can I ask? The only other guy I know at school is Carl and that will not help things with Vanessa.

Obviously, I need to ask someone outside of school. There's Andrew, but that'd be totally weird. Besides, Olivia's got a crush on him. There's Jake, but Nora's going with him. There's Kyle, but there's no way I'm asking him. Then again, he's not really _that_ bad, I guess. He gave me a bad first impression, but other than that he's been decent.

And quite frankly, it'd be better to go to the dance with him than with no one at all.

With that thought in mind I head into my karate class. Olivia and Nora aren't there yet, but _he_ is. He's stretching alone in the corner. Apparently, Jake isn't here yet either.

Well, this is the perfect time to do it.

I take a deep breath, swallow my pride, and approach him.

"Hi, Kyle," I greet. There's a lump in my throat. Probably my pride.

Kyle stays in his position for two more seconds before standing up. "Hi, Chrissie, what's up?"

"The ceiling."

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

I take a deep breath and plunge on. "Well, I find myself without a date to the fall formal at my school, and since you were my karate partner once I thought you might want to step in. As a friend."

Please don't say no. My ego can't take any more abuse.

Kyle raises an eyebrow. "I don't know; I might have plans for that weekend."

"Then I'll just have to ask someone else." Don't call my bluff. Don't call my bluff.

"So it would be all right if I wanted to spend Friday night at the Ice Cream Parlor celebrating my victory instead of going to the dance with you?"

Phooey. "Look, Carter already asked Vanessa so I would mind it very much if you spent Friday night at the Ice Cream Parlor."

"Ah, so I'm the second choice."

Great, I blew it.

"Well, I'll just have to prove that I am not second best. I'll be there."

I smile at him.

He grins back.

Then I return to my usual spot and stretch until Olivia and Nora arrive.

"Are you over what happened at the cafeteria enough so that you can tell us what happened?" Nora asks.

Olivia glares at her.

"I'm okay now," I say. "I asked Carter and he told me that he had already asked Vanessa."

Olivia cringes and pats my shoulder sympathetically.

"There are other fish in the sea," Nora assures. "Like Kyle- he's into you. I can tell."

I raise an eyebrow. "And how can you tell?"

"I just can."

"Well, whether he likes me or not, he's coming to the dance with me."

Olivia's jaw drops.

"You are on a roll, sister," Nora says. "Now tell me exactly how the conversation went."

Thankfully, Mr. Anderson begins his lesson before I can begin. "Lately we've been focusing on the basics, but now we're shifting our focus to form," he says.

He lines us up and makes us review the simple moves as gracefully as possible. Then we work on the more complicated moves. By the time he's done with us, I can't strike a move without wondering how it must look.

I sure hope this doesn't affect my crime fighting.

~~~

Mother drives me home and I quickly change before walking across the street to the Smiths'. Before I can knock on their door, it swings open revealing an exited Charlie.

"Hi, Charisa," he greets, hopping on one foot.

"Hi, Charlie," I answer. "Did you know it was me before you opened the door?"

He nods. "I was watching for you through one of the windows 'cause Mommy said I could open the door for you."

At the mention of her name, Mrs. Smith appears in a black evening dress and heels. "Oh, hello, Charisa," she greets. "Thank-you for coming so early. Well, the numbers are on the counter and there are leftovers in the fridge. Is there anything else you need to know?"

"Yes, when is Charlie's bedtime again?"

"Eight."

"Uh-huh, it's at eight," Charlie agrees, now hopping on his other foot.

I nod. "So, should I let him stay up until you come home?"

"Well, actually...it turns out that the playhouse is further away than I thought, so we'll be coming home later than we expected. We probably won't be back until almost nine. I was about to call you and ask you to come over early, but you came over before I could. You don't mind, do you? I'll pay you extra."

"It's all right." As long as I'm not late meeting Hunter again.

"Well, I had better go make sure Mr. Smith has his tie on right," Mrs. Smith says. "For a former boy scout, he is terrible at tying knots."

"I made up a game for us to play," Charlie announces once his mother leaves. "Let me show you how to play."

He grabs my hand and leads me to the rec-room.

Halfway through the directions of his apparently very complicated game, his parents leave.

"Wow, you are getting good," Charlie says when I win my first game. "Now it's time to play round sixteen."

"Actually, it's time for dinner," I say rather too quickly.

"Goodie!"

~~~

"What do you want to do next?" I ask as I scrape the last of my noodles onto my fork.

Charlie stuffs a forkful of noodles into his mouth. "Flavaflav!"

"Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you that I can't understand you when you talk with your mouth full?"

He swallows his food. "Sorry, I'm just excited."

Really? I hadn't noticed.

"Now, what did you say?" I ask.

"I said we could play my favorite game next."

I nod while trying to remember which of his many games was his favorite.

It turns out that his favorite game consists of entertaining his vast collection of teddy bears with humorous skits. After seating his audience, he pulls me into another room to discuss what we should act out.

"How about I be the superhero and you be the damsel in distress?"

I smile at the irony. "That sounds nice."

Charlie is in the middle of saving me from an 'angry' volcano when I hear glass break upstairs.

My heart freezes. Oh, why didn't I listen to Courtney's advice and wear my superhero costume beneath my outfit? I mean, besides the obvious reason that it would be too warm and stuffy and I'm not sure how I could wash it without Mother knowing.

I turn to Charlie, who doesn't seem to have noticed the glass breaking. "I've got an idea. What if the superhero got captured by his arch-nemesis and the damsel in distress has to save him?"

"That sound like a _sissy_ idea."

"No, it isn't. All the best superheroes get captured once in a while. Now go into that closet."

He shrugs. "If you _say_ so."

"You've got to stay put until I let you out or the whole play will be ruined, understand?"

"Okay."

I run upstairs and look around the corner. The kitchen window is broken. Cautiously, I check all the rooms on the main floor. I don't find anyone. Then I creep up the stairs to the second floor. There's a faint light coming from the master bedroom. I stealthily slide against the wall towards it. I look in and discover a tall, masked man holding a flashlight. He's searching the Smiths' dresser. His back is to me. I take the opportunity to dash toward him and knock him out. He falls onto the carpet. He never knew what hit him.

Unlike my early crime fighting adventures, I have easy access to a phone. After dialing 911, I call my house.

"Hello, O'Dell residence," Dad answers.

"Hi, Dad, it's me, Charisa. Could you come over to the Smiths', please? There's been a break in."

"I'll be right over," Dad says before hanging up.

I hesitate before calling the Smiths. As a baby-sitter, it's my duty to tell the parents if something bad happens. However, I have the situation under control and I'd hate to interrupt their date. But they'll be angry if I don't call.

I dial Mrs. Smith's cell phone, but she doesn't answer. Then I dial Mr. Smith's cell phone. He doesn't answer either, so I leave a message.

From the window I see Dad approach the Smith's front door. I rush downstairs and open the door for him before he knocks it down or something.

"Are you all right?" he asks breathlessly. "Is Charlie all right? Where's the robber? What happened?"

I cringe when I notice his casts. I had forgotten about those. "I'm sorry, Dad, I forgot you were hurt. Here, have a seat."

"I'm not here for you to fuss over me- I have your mother for that. Now tell me what I need to know."

"Yes, Dad."

"Where is the robber?"

"He's upstairs, in the master bedroom. He's unconscious."

Dad's eyes widen. "How did that happen? Oh, never mind, I'll get to that question later. First tell me, are you hurt?"

I shake my head.

"Is Charlie hurt?"

"No, he's downstairs hiding in a closet."

"Have you called the police?"

I nod.

"And the Smiths?"

"I did, but they didn't answer."

Dad nods. "You handled this situation very sensibly. Good job."

"Thanks, but I should go downstairs and get Charlie."

"Yes, you go get him and I'll check on the robber."

I go downstairs and open the closet.

Charlie yawns and rubs his eyes. "What took you so long?"

How to put this... "Well, a real bad guy broke into your house but I took care of him."

His face turns pale. "Where's the bad guy now?"

"He's upstairs in your parents' room, er, sleeping. But don't worry; my dad's keeping an eye on him. Come on, I'll take you to my Dad"

I pick Charlie up and carry him all the way upstairs.

Dad's in the master bedroom searching the robber. When he hears me come in he looks up and asks, "How did you do this, Chrissie?"

"I guess my karate classes paid off." And having superpowers definitely helped.

Charlie seems more scared to be in the robber's presence than comforted to be in my dad's, so I take him to his room and read him several books before putting him to bed.

When the police finally arrive, I let them in, show them the broken window, and lead them upstairs where my dad has been watching the robber.

I gesture to the robber. "This is the man who broke in."

Two police officers handcuff him and half drag him downstairs. The other police officer, Dad's good friend, Officer Steve, takes a seat and gestures for me to do the same.

"Can you tell me what happened, Charisa?" he asks.

I nod and tell him the story, but I omit the whole superpowers bit.

"All right," Mr. Steve says turning to Dad, "can you tell me your side of the story?"

"There isn't much to tell. Charisa called and said someone had broken into the house. I limped over with my gun only to find that Charisa had already taken care of him. You came shortly after that."

Mr. Steve taps his chin. "When will the Smiths be back?"

"They should be back before nine," I answer.

"You told them what happened, right?"

I shake my head. "I couldn't reach them, but I left a message."

Mr. Steve chuckles. "Boy, are they in for a surprise when they come home."

"Actually, I'm going to try calling them again," I say.

"Good idea."

I go to another room and try calling Charlie's parents again.

"Charisa, is that you?" Mrs. Smith answers.

"Yes, Ma'am. Someone broke into your house-"

Mrs. Smith gasps.

"But everything is all right. My dad and the police are here. Oh, but you have a broken window."

"What happened?"

By the time this is over I'll be able to tell the story in my sleep. "Long story short, I knocked him unconscious and called the police."

"Well, we're on our way home," Mrs. Smith says. "How's Charlie?"

"He's fine. He's in bed. Bye."

"Bye."

~~~

After everything that needed to be said and done was said and done, I'm late. Again.

I quickly change into my costume and hurry to the meeting place. Hunter's already there, of course.

"What took you so long?" he demands. "Were you watching TV again? If you were, you really need to get your priorities straight."

"I would have been here sooner except I got distracted by a robbery."

"Crime fighting without me. Shame. Well, come on then. We're already late, and crime never rests."

Hunter seems excited to get something done, probably because we had such a boring night yesterday. I just hope we actually do something tonight.

Suddenly, I hear a scream. I guess it won't be like yesterday after all.

Hunter and I jump onto a roof and then onto another. Before we can jump to the next one; however, we hear another girl scream in the alley below us. The girl is Nora. And she's not alone. A large man I don't recognize has a hold of her arm.

I jump on top of the man, knocking him down. Hunter jumps down beside me.

"Allow me," he says politely.

I get up and Hunter promptly knocks the man out for me.

I get up and turn to my friend. "N-nobody, what are you doing here?"

"There are two of you!" Nora exclaims.

"Yes, yes, now are you all right?"

She nods and waves her hand dismissively, like her well-being meant nothing. "May I interview you?"

"Why not?" Hunter asks, tossing me his phone.

What happened to his hurry?

Nora pulls a notebook out of her newly returned purse. "First question: what do you call yourself?"

"I'm Villain Hunter and this I my sidekick Ninja."

I look up from punching numbers into the phone (which is _very_ hard to do in the dark). "I'm not your sidekick!"

"Second question," Nora continues. "How did you guys get your powers?"

"That's classified, I'm afraid," Hunter answers.

She huffs. "Fine. Third question: how long have you been fighting crime?"

"I'd say about two months."

I almost add that I had been fighting crime for only a week, but change my mind. I don't want her to think I'm less experience than Hunter. Or assuming that I really am his sidekick.

"Fourth question: how many criminals have you put behind bars?"

"Countless numbers- not only in this city, but in some of the adjoining cities as well."

"Fifth question: how long have you and Ninja been fighting together?"

"Not quite a week. I saved her life the other day and now she's my lifelong servant."

"Am not," I retort despite the fact that I was currently talking to the police.

"She's a feisty one too," Hunter whispers conspiratorially to Nora.

I bite my lip and attempt to concentrate on talking to the police.

"Last question," Nora announces. "Are you handsome beneath that mask?"

For some reason, I begin coughing.

"Yes I am," Hunter answers, ignoring me.

Nora giggles. "Would you mind posing with your sidekick for a photo?"

"I am not his sidekick," I manage to gasp out.

"Oh, come over here, Ninja," Hunter says. "Don't be a party pooper."

Since when did this become a party?

Despite knowing the obvious problems the photo could cause, I take my place next to Hunter. Nora takes her photo. She also takes a photo of the unconscious thug with Hunter standing victoriously above him.

At the sound of distant sirens, Hunter says, "It's time I bid adieu, fair maiden- till next our paths cross."

I roll my eyes. Men.

When we reach our meeting place, I scold him. "I can't believe you. Seriously, you should be ashamed of yourself for flirting on the job like that. And you say _I'm_ the one who needs to get my priorities straight."

"You're just jealous."

"You wish."

Hunter just laughs.

I decide to change the subject. "Why is the origin of your powers classified?"

"Well, it's not the kind of information you just go telling everyone you meet on the streets- _especially_ reporters. Those are stories only for the people you trust."

"Do you trust me?" I ask.

In reply, he sits on the edge of the roof by our meeting place and gestures for me to do the same.

"I'll tell my story under two conditions," he says. "One, you mustn't tell anyone else; and two, you must tell me your story in return. Agreed?"

I nod. "Agreed."

He nods and begins. "Well, when I was younger I got sick with this rare but deadly disease. I won't go into the particulars, except to say there wasn't a cure. I was going to die. The day after the diagnosis, a package containing a tea leaves and a note was sent to me anonymously."

He pauses but I'm too stunned to say anything.

"The note simply said that I must drink the tea made out of the leaves. There was no reason not to try it- I was as good as dead, so the tea was made for me and I drank it with my pain medication. It was nasty. But the next day, I was completely recovered. I also began to exhibit unnatural powers. I was sworn to secrecy by my, er, guardian. And I was trained so I could properly use my powers when I got older. Now that I'm older, I'm finally living my dream to be a crime fighter. What's _your_ story?"

I lick my lips, still a little breathless. "Well, I acquired my powers after I drank some nasty tea from ancient tea leaves."

"Hey! You're copying my story."

I shake my head. "I'm telling the truth. Besides, that would explain our similar powers."

"But I have super senses and you don't. And you have regenerating health, but I don't."

I tap my chin. "Maybe the tea healed you when you because you were so ill and used up all it's, er, juice on that. But because I was perfectly healthy when I drank the tea, it gave me regenerating health instead. Oh, and maybe when the tea and the chemicals in your pain medication mixed together they gave you super senses. Or maybe the tea reacts differently in different people."

He shrugs. "Maybe. But I still think I was cheated. You should tell me something else; some deep, dark secret or something."

"You're not getting my secret identity out of me if that's what you're thinking."

"No, no, _of course_ not."

"Well, in that case-" I sigh deeply, like I'm about to get a huge weight off my conscience. "I have never ever kissed a boy. Well, excepting male relations."

"Really? Never ever?"

"Never ever."

He cocks his head. "Well, would you like to?"

"Um..."

"Because if you promise not to look, I could take off my mask." His voice is teasing, but I hear something behind it. A hint of a dare.

And I can't walk away from a dare. My mouth goes dry. "Oh, uh... sure."

"Close your eyes."

Pursing my lips, I do. Then, to my surprise, I feel him begin to roll up my mask. I almost raise my hand to smack him away, but then he stops just above my lips. Next thing I hear is the unclicking of a mask.

Suddenly, I'm filled with the overwhelming desire to peek, but I remember my promise. An O'Dell never breaks a promise, no matter how tempting...

I feel an un-gloved hand grasp my chin and tilt my face up. With my eyes closed as they are, it reminds me of riding roller-coasters: keeping my eyes closed as I go up the hill- waiting. And trying to keep the sun out of my eyes. And not to see the huge drop below me. But mostly waiting

I'll probably never know how close I got to the top of the hill, because just then a phone rings.

"Sorry about that," Hunter says a moment later. "It was a Virginia call. I don't even know anyone in Virginia. Oh, you can open your eyes now."

When I do, I see him wearing his mask just as he always does. However, one glove is still off, revealing pale skin.

He catches me staring and slides his hand into his pocket.

I clear my throat and roll my mask back down. "Well, I should go. Bye."

"Bye."

As I climb through my window, I wonder did Mrs. Walters send the tea to Hunter? Does she know what all it did to him? What it did to me? Did she give me her tea on purpose? Will it work on Courtney?

And how do I ask her without seeming suspicious?

And did I seriously just almost have my first kiss?
Chapter Twelve

When I get up, I put on one of my cuter outfits. I can _not_ look upset about yesterday's big Carter disappointment in any way. It's already going to be bad enough that Vanessa's going to be able to gloat to her heart's content- I'm not going to let her think that she caused Carter to break my heart or anything like that.

In an attempt to seem extra happy, I skip into the kitchen, humming this tune that got itself stuck in my head.

"Good morning, everyone," I greet in a sing-song voice.

Courtney, however, seems to take my (forced) happiness the wrong way. "Oh, you finally found someone to go to the dance with!"

Suddenly, all eyes are on me.

I purse my lips. "Who said I was bringing anyone?"

Mother leans forward. "Come on, tell us who he is."

"Yeah, tell us, who is he?" Dad asks much less excitedly and much more sinisterly.

I blush. "I, um, asked Kyle Rivers. But that's not why I was skipping."

Courtney and Mother share a knowing look. Oh, great; now they're going to think I'm in love or something. Ironic.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about him?" Dad asks, "Surely you aren't going to a dance with a boy that I haven't even met yet."

I clear my throat. "Oh, I forgot you haven't met him. I'll have to introduce you to him Friday."

Dad looks unconvinced.

"Oh, Carlos, it's all right," Mother says. "I know his mother, and if half of what she says about him is true then he's everything we would want Chrissie to have in a boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" I exclaim; however, no one seems to listen.

Dad frowns. "Charisa is too young to date."

"When _will_ we be able to date?" Courtney asks.

"Never," Dad answers. "I'm choosing your husbands for you."

Mother rolls her eyes.

And I take this moment to eat my last bite and make a run for it.

On the school bus, I sit next to my friends, as usual.

"Hi, guys," I greet. "Anything interesting happen yesterday?" I give Nora a pointed look.

Olivia shrugs.

"I'm glad you asked," Nora says, "because I had quite an adventure last night."

"Really?" Hopefully no one notices the sarcasm in my voice.

She nods. "I was walking home from the library since Andrew was busy. Suddenly, I heard a girl scream from across the street, so I ran over to see what was wrong. Then, this huge guy grabbed me and pulled me into an alley."

Olivia gasps.

I pretend to be surprised too. "And then what happened?"

"I was so scared that I screamed. Then, suddenly, this masked person jumped onto the mugger and another jumped down and helped her."

Olivia's eyes widen.

"One of my rescuers was that girl in the ski mask and karate robe that we saw on that video. The other was a boy dressed in camouflage and a gas mask. Anyway, I asked for an interview and the boy agreed. The girl wasn't too happy, though. I guess she was jealous."

I was _so_ not jealous.

"They left before the police came and I had to answer a few questions. And when the police searched the mugger, they found a sound device. And- get this- when they pressed play, it made the sound of a girl screaming. The same scream that had lured me there to begin with."

Creepy.

"It sounds like the guy was trying to lure someone there on purpose," Olivia says before shuddering.

Double creepy.

~~~

That Vanessa and Carter are now a 'thing' is now obvious to anyone with eyes.

"They deserve each other," Nora says during lunch.

"Yeah," Olivia agrees. "Besides, you've got Kyle."

I smile at my friends. I appreciate their efforts and all, but I don't need their sympathy as much as they think. Sure seeing Vanessa and Carter together hurts my pride and churns my stomach, but my heart seems unscathed.

I might just survive this terribly awkward situation.

~~~

After school, I head back to the gym.

"I hope you all have been training this past week," Coach says once we all arrive, "and not that puny I exercised one day kind of stuff. I mean _every single day_."

Oops, I haven't trained at all since last week- puny or otherwise. I sure hope Coach doesn't notice.

"If you haven't been training every possible second than I hope you start," she adds. "Or else you won't be fit to wear your uniforms- in more than one way."

Hunter's right, I should get my priorities straight. No more crime fighting for me- I owe it to the team to practice all night, apparently. I also should give up studying, karate, eating, and sleeping.

"Now show me what you got!" Coach orders before blowing her whistle.

After playing a few mock games, Coach pulls me aside.

Oh, no, she knows I haven't been practicing. She's going to bite my head off and kick the rest of me off the team.

"Charisa."

Good-bye, cruel world!

"I appreciate your effort. I can tell you've been training extra hard all last week. Keep up the good work."

I force a smile. Man, I wish she had just bitten off my head.

At dinner, Dad announces some information Officer Steve had told him over the phone. "The police have found clues pointing not only to organized crime, but also to multiple organizations of crime with multiple leaders. We've also found clues of gang fights."

Mother goes pale.

"You wouldn't believe what my music teacher told me today," Courtney says, quickly changing the subject to something more lighthearted. "She said that if I kept doing this well that I could probably get a scholarship at Julliard when I get older."

"That's wonderful," Mother says, forgetting about the gangs. Which is good- it's not her job to worry about that kind of stuff; it's mine.

After helping Mother with the kitchen, I yawn. "Wow, volleyball really took a lot out of me- Coach really works us- so I should probably hit the sacks."

Mother nods. "I wouldn't want you falling asleep during your English class or something."

In my room, change into my costume quickly. I will not be late a third time.

Villain Hunter is waiting for me at our meeting place.

"Hey, Ninja," he greets. "I was thinking we'd try fighting crime on the west side of the city since we've all but wiped out crime here."

"Sure."

We jump onto a rooftop and begin hopping from one to another. Suddenly, I hear a nearby siren go off.

"It sounds like it's coming from the mall!" I cry, turning around.

Two rooftops later, I realize Hunter isn't following me.

"Aren't you coming?" I ask.

He rubs the back of his neck. "No, I think we should keep going. I have a feeling that a heinous crime is about to be committed in the west side of the city."

"A heinous crime is being committed at the mall _now."_

He sighs in exasperation. "Come on already. We need to go."

"I agree. We do have to go- to the mall!" With that I jump off the roof and rush to the mall. I check behind me to see if he's following me. He's not.

The question is, why?

The mall is closed and the parking lot is empty, but there is definitely an alarm going off inside.

I search the entire perimeter, but I don't find a broken door or a hole in the wall. Apparently this is an inside job.

I guess I'll have to wait for the robbers at an entrance/exit, but there's one problem: the mall has two very separate doorways, with others near the two, one at the north side and one at the south side. This wouldn't be a problem if Hunter were here, but since he seems to have better things to do; I guess I'll have to improvise.

After several minutes of guarding the southern doorway, I rush over to the northern doorway. Then I rush back to the other doorway. And then back again. By the time I return to the southern doorway, it's been broken and shards of glass are splayed all over the place.

In the distance, I hear a car start and I rush toward the sound. The sound leads me to the parking lot of the movie theater next door. There is only one car parked there. A lady is already inside the car, but two other men are dumping stuff into the trunk of car.

Two men whom I recognize. From the last break in I thwarted. When that one man pulled a club out of my hands.

For a moment I want to turn around and run away- is that why Hunter wouldn't come, to avoid a potential superhuman like us?  
But then I rush over and ask, "What are you doing here?" After all, they might not be the same people who broke into the mall. It's only polite ask.

In response, one of the men- though whether the superhuman or not, I can't tell (for that matter, I can't tell if the other one is or not either; just recognize the style of dress and statures) pulls a pistol from his pocket and shoots at me, which is totally not polite.

I duck just in time. Then I jump up and kick him in the stomach before he can shoot again. The other man jumps on me from behind, but I grab him by his arms and throw him at his buddy, scared to death that he might do the same to me.

The lady in the car drives toward me and I jump on top of the car before she can run me over. Someone shoots at me, but thanks to the car suddenly lurching, it misses. I jump off of the top of the car onto the guy who tried to shoot me (twice), knocking him to the ground with a thud. The other man runs at me, but I grab one of his fists before he can punch me and dodge his other fist. I push him backwards, but then he jumps up and comes running back. I crouch down at the last moment (a trick I learned from Hunter), and he trips over me, does an aerial somersault, and lands flat on his back. I cringe for him. He doesn't get back up.

I look around for the car, but apparently, the lady drove away while I was occupied with the two men. Well, add her to my list of bad guys who got away. But at least I have these two again, though neither of them seemed particularly superhuman. Maybe he wasn't here. Or maybe he never existed in the first place, and the man was merely going on adrenaline.

Focusing on the task at hand, I drag the two unconscious robbers to the sidewalk. Then I drag what's left of the stolen goods onto the sidewalk. I don't have access to a phone, so I take a seat on the curb next to the robbers. Hopefully, a nice pedestrian with a cell phone jogs by soon.

Five minutes later, Hunter shows up.

"There you are!" I cry.

"Yes, here I am. Were you successful?"

"For the most part, but one got away with some stolen goods... She wouldn't have gotten away if I had some back up. Why didn't you back me up?"

He shoves his hands in his pockets. "It's complicated."

I cross my arms. "Uh-huh, well give me your phone so I can call the police. While we wait for them you can un-complicate it."

He tosses me his phone.

I finish calling the police (they're becoming quite familiar with me. I just hope my mask muffles my voice enough that they don't recognize me as Officer O'Dell's kid), all the while keeping my eyes on the untrustworthy one. With the call done, I toss the phone back to Hunter. "Spill."

He catches it, not breaking my gaze- at least I don't think so, but hard to know for sure past the mask. "I told you already- I had a feeling there was going to be a crime in that area."

"So, you chased a crime you _thought_ might happen, but not a crime you _knew_ was happening."

Hunter begins pacing. "Okay, I had a _really_ good feeling that crime was going to happen."

"And? We could have gone right there after taking care of the mall. Why didn't you help me take care of the mall?!"

"Look, I can't explain it right now," Hunter answers calmly. "You just need to trust me."

"Wait, you expect _me_ to trust _you_ when _you_ don't even trust _me_!"

He stops pacing and grabs my shoulders. "Look, I want to tell you, but I just can't."

I pull away. "Why? Does it have to do with the other superhuman?"

"What do you mean?"

"In one of my battles. There was a man who pulled a club out of my hands. Then he got away after I whacked him in the head with one of his own men. Have you met him before?"

"I-I have. But believe me, I wouldn't have left you if I thought you would face him tonight."

"Then _why_ didn't you help me?"

"It had to do with the other superhuman, actually."

"How?"

"I already told you _I can't tell you._ "

I back away from him. "Well, if you can't trust me and I can't trust you, than obviously we can't be partners anymore." I start walking away.

"Ninja, wait!"

But I don't wait, I run faster. I don't watch where I'm going and I run into a wall.

"Stupid wall!" I kick it, hurting my foot.

I start running again. I should look back, make sure he isn't following me (and make sure he didn't see my little wall episode), but I don't. If I look back, I might be tempted to go back. I keep running.

Once I jump into my room, I slam my window shut louder than I probably should have. Thankfully, neither of my parents runs in.

I tear off my mask and find that it's wet. Why am I crying over him? Throwing myself on my bed, I bury my face in my pillow and try to ignore the world.

I can't sleep, though. Too many questions are whirling around in my head.

Why didn't Hunter help at the mall? Why didn't he tell me? Why?

What is he hiding?
Chapter Thirteen

I wake up groggy, grouchy, and completely unprepared for a new day.

By the time I finally make it into the kitchen, Dad, Mother, and Courtney are already there.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Mother greets cheerfully.

"Good morning," I answer in a notably less cheerful way.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Courtney says.

"Yeah, you did," I retort.

Courtney blinks at me, surprised. Who can blame her? Of all the things she could never be accused of, being grumpy is on the top of the list.

"Sorry."

Courtney smiles. "That's okay. Did I ever tell you what we're learning in music class yet? Well..."

I eat the rest of my breakfast in silence. I couldn't have talked even if I wanted to.

The moment I plop down on my chair next to Olivia and Nora, Nora says, "Guess what?"

Before I even have a chance to guess, she continues, "I've written out my news story. I'm going to turn it in today."

"When do you find out if you made it onto the paper or not?" Olivia asks.

"The winners will be announced Friday," she answers. In a whisper she adds, "I'm really late."

"Well, I hope you win," Olivia says.

I nod. "Me too."

Nora grins, though I don't know why. Did she expect us to say anything else? "Thanks, guys. Ooh, I'm _so_ excited. Here, let me show you it."

She reaches into her newsboy style satchel and pulls out a small stack of papers stapled together. "Here it is."

The headline reads: Real Life Superheroes. The paper begins by reporting the strange occurrences that pointed to the possibility of superhuman crime fighters. Then it tells Nora's own story of being rescued. It also contains her interview with Hunter and her photos of us.

Humph, Hunter.

"Wow," Olivia says when she has finished reading. "The board will definitely let you on."

I nod.

"I just can't wait!" Nora exclaims.

~~~

I manage to paste a smile on my face just in case Vanessa or Carter walks past me. Can't let them think they put me in a bad mood.

I continue smiling as I walk into English class and take my seat.

"Pop quiz," Mrs. B. says in a monotone voice.

The smile fades from my face. Why does life hate me so?

~~~

"Are you and Kyle going to coordinate your outfits?" Nora asks at lunch.

Ugh, I don't want to talk about Kyle and me. Why does everyone think our relationship is more than it is? "No. Did I ever tell you about what happened Monday night when I was babysitting Charlie?"

"No," Nora says, intrigued. "What happened?"

I lean forward and tell them my story.

"Wow," Olivia says when I finish. "I can't believe you did that. Karate training or not, I would have hidden in the closet with Charlie."

"That just goes to show that you have more sense than me, Olivia," I answer.

Nora gulps down the last of her coke. "It's too bad you didn't get rescued by superheroes. I guess they were too busy with me. Sorry."

Ugh, why does everything keep reminding me of Hunter? "I doubt they would have helped me anyway. They seem to hang around the commercial parts of the city, not the residential parts."

"How do you know?" Nora asks.

"Well, uh, I've only heard of them stopping holdups and muggings."

Nora shrugs.

_Whew_ , forget about Courtney, I have got to be more careful.

~~~

"Did you ever get around talking to that one kid who was bugging you?" Mother asks me as she drives me to my karate class.

Does accusing her of being jealous of me count? "Not exactly."

"How come?"

I shrug. "I don't know, I guess it didn't seem quite so important anymore." After all, Vanessa can't hurt me physically thanks to my new abilities. And emotionally, well, high school drama seems trivial compared to my nocturnal adventures. Most of the time.

"What do you mean?"

Well, I can't tell her exactly what I mean so I say, "That issue resolved on its own."

"That's good," Mother replies, not knowing that it resolved well in Vanessa's favor and not mine.

She pulls up to the building.

"Bye," I say as I jump out.

"Bye."

Inside, I see Olivia and Nora are already here and I join them.

"I'm starting to think you guys are following me," I say.

"Huh?" Olivia asks.

For someone who was so smart at everything else, Olivia sure is slow on jokes.

"I saw you guys at school and now you're here."

Nora slaps her thigh. "Now I get it."

" _Okay_ , then," Olivia says.

I shake my head at her. "Just forget about it."

I begin stretching, but then I pause and glance around the room.

"Kyle isn't here," Nora says.

"Why do you say that?" I ask innocently.

She pauses in mid-stretch. "I already checked."

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was, why did you say that all of a sudden?"

Nora begins stretching again. "Because you were looking for him. I saw that glance."

"What makes you think I was looking for _him_?"

Nora rolls her eyes. "I know about these things."

"Uh-huh."

"I hope you kids have been practicing," Mr. Anderson says when he enters the room, "because the martial arts tournament is this Friday. Remember to invite your family- it's not too late."

Hmm, speaking of late, out of the corner of my eye I notice Kyle rush in. His normally well combed black hair is mussed, yet somehow he made it look good. Some people get all the luck.

"Today's lesson," Mr. Anderson continues, "will be about using your opponent's weight against him."

Hey, I did that last night. I had to use Hunter' s trick because he abandoned me... Ugh, _why_ can't I get that boy out of my head?

The moment the lesson is over, Kyle heads for the exit. That's weird, because I always leave before him. Is he avoiding me?

"Do you think Kyle is avoiding me?" I ask Nora. After all, she keeps claiming that she know all things romance. Not that there is anything remotely romantic about Kyle and me.

"He might be, _or_ he has something extremely important to do," Nora says. "Let's ask Jake."

"No!" I say, because Jake would probably tell Kyle I was asking about him. The horror.

However, Nora doesn't listen and marches right over to Jake.

"Hey, Jake," she greets with only a _touch_ of flirtiness, "what's up with Kyle?"

Jake runs his hand through his dirty blonde hair. "Kyle's mom is sick."

"That's terrible," I say. Poor Mrs. Rivers.

"What's she sick with?" Nora, always the reporter, asks.

Jake shrugs. "Kyle says it's some kind of flu."

"Wait, if Kyle's mom is sick, then who's driving him home?"

"His uncle."

"His uncle?" Nora echoes, a tried and true method on how to get someone to talk (she has a list of them- echoing is right after flirting).

"Yeah, Kyle's dad's brother. He's been helping support Kyle and his mom since Kyle's dad, uh, died."

"Oh, that's nice of him," I say.

Jake shrugs and nods. "Well, I've got to go, bye."

"Bye," Nora and I say together.

Jake winks at Nora and then walks outside.

"See, he's not ignoring you," Nora says as we both head outside. "I knew he was too in to you to do that."

I roll my eyes at her. "You know, that could all be an elaborate excuse."

"You're just paranoid."

"You have no evidence," I say as I take a seat on the bench next to Olivia, who is quietly reading.

"Oh, I have _plenty_ of evidence."

Excuse me, but who was rescuing who Monday night? "Hey, look, it's Andrew."

Olivia and Nora leave. Then Mother drives up.

I climb into my seat and buckle up. Suddenly, a question pops into my head.

"What do you think about the whole superhero business?"

"Well, I like the idea of masked super humans running around rescuing people," she answers, "but more likely than not, these 'local superheroes' don't fit that description."

"Why don't you think they fit the description?" I ask. "I mean, all the reports about them are positive."

Mother shrugs. "Maybe they are good guys now, but they probably won't stay like that for long."

"What do you mean?"

"Power corrupts, and these people might start off with good motives, but eventually their power will get to their minds and twist them. However, if they can overcome their own power, then our city is good hands."

What? Nobody said I'd become mad with power! "How does one overcome their own power? What kind of paradox is that?"

"When one realizes they are in a position of power- that they can do whatever they want and no one can easily stop them, it is very likely that person will start doing whatever they want because of that power. However, if that person can keep in mind that the God of the universe who gave them that power will someday judge him on how he used that power, he is more likely to be responsible with that power."

"That's all? It sounds so easy."

"It's not," Mother warns. "But it helps to have sympathetic friends."

I nod slowly. Then I yell, "The car in front of you!"

Mother swerves out of the way of the jerk and yells at him. After that the aura of holiness seems to have dissipated.

~~~

I take my good, sweet time eating dinner and helping clean up. Then I watch some TV with my Dad (Hunter would be horrified). And then, I help Courtney with her homework. After all, I don't have to hurry up and be on time to meet anyone.

When I finally make it to my room, it's nine thirty.

Out of habit, I hurry into my costume. Right after I pull my mask over my head, someone knocks on my door.

"Just a moment!"

In a frenzy, I pull back off my mask and gloves. I slip out of my shoes. Then I kick it all under my bed.

"It's just me," Mother says on the other side of my door and the knob begins to turn.

"Wait, I'm not decent!" I cry, dashing to my closet.

I grab my robe off its hook and wrap it around me.

"Now you can come in," I say as I dash back to my bed to push my mask, gloves, and shoes further under my bed. I straighten up just as Mother comes in.

I love being super-fast.

"Hey, Chrissie, I just wanted to say I'm very proud of you," Mother says. "You have been very brave these last few weeks."

Does she know about my nocturnal adventures? "What do you mean?"

"You saved Charlie's life and you stopped that robber at the Smiths'," Mother explains. "And you were strong during the whole accident thing with your dad." She pulls me into a hug. "Well, good-night."

I sigh in relief when she leaves.

I better hurry; I'm already late- oh, wait, never mind.

I put back on my mask, shoes and gloves and add my goggles. If only I could take a phone. After all, I won't have Hunter's.

How did I ever survive crime fighting without him? Wait, did I just think that? Ugh!

I climb onto my window seat, preparing to step out into the night, but something holds me back: fear. Usually, when I step out into the spooky dark, I know I'll soon see a friendly face, er, mask.

Come on, Charisa, you've done this before. Besides, Mother _just_ said that I was brave.

I step out into the dark. I'll head north, so I don't accidentally run into _him_.

Apparently, the north side of the city isn't quite as infested with crime as the south side because it takes me about an hour before I finally come across a crime in the making.

Half a dozen teenagers are painting the post office with graffiti.

"Stop that right now!" I order, startling them.

Two of the teenagers make a run for it, but the other four stay put.

"Now clean up your mess."

One of them, a guy with a Mohawk, steps forward. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ninja and I advise you to do what I say."

"Or what?" he asks in a mocking tone.

In reply, I rush from the shadow to his side.

"H-how did you move so quickly?"

"That isn't any of your business. Your business is cleaning up that graffiti."

A few of the hoodlums begin doing exactly what I say, but one of them, a guy with neon green hair, growls, "Why should we do what _she_ says? We have the numbers!"

Suddenly, all of them run toward me. Everything becomes a blur of fists. The next thing I know, I'm surrounded by stunned, prostrate hoodlums.

When they realize what happened, a couple of them jump up and begin to run.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" I call after them.

They freeze and the guy with the Mohawk asks, "What do you want with us?"

"I already told you. Clean up your mess!"

This time, they obey. I stay and supervise. When they finish, I order, "Go home and be good!"

They don't have to be told twice.

I check my watch. Ugh, it's already eleven. I should go home.

Instead of going home; however, I rush downtown. I don't know why.

A moment after I arrive, I hear the sound of a brawl and head over to investigate.

The source of the sound turns out to be four big men fighting in an alley.

"Hey, what's this all about?" I ask.

They pause, look up, and look at me.

"It's one of them superheroes!" shouts one guy.

"Yes, well, I'll be going now," I say and begin walking away.

A bullet whizzes by my ear. I freeze and turn around in time to see one of the brawlers punch another brawler who is holding a gun.

"Idiot!" the puncher yells. "The boss wants her alive!"

Okay, first of all, how does everyone keep guessing I'm a girl? Second of all, did he say _boss_? And third of all, did they say the boss wants _me_?

Creepy.

"Who is he?" I ask.

Two of the brawlers ease toward me.

"You can find out yourself if you come with us," replies the brawler who had scolded the one with the gun.

"I'd rather not, thanks for the offer, though."

He grins maliciously. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

Too late, I realize that I can only see three of the brawlers. Someone punches me on the back of my head and everything goes black. The last thing I am conscious of is falling.

~~~

I wake up on the ground. I'm still in the alley.

The brawler who had knocked me unconscious is standing above me brushing his hands together. "That was easier than I thought it' d be."

How long have I been out? Five seconds?

"Enough talk, we need to get her to the boss," another brawler orders.

The brawler who had knocked me out picks me up and throws me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Should I fight now, or should I let them think I'm still unconscious and have them bring me to the boss and _then_ fight?

"Wait, let's just see what she looks like under her mask real quick like," one of the brawlers says.

Well, I guess that answers that.

I push the back of the goon holding me and propel my legs over his shoulder, resulting in a freaky somersault. Once my legs hit the ground, I grab one of the arms of the brawler who had been holding me and swing him at the goon who was about to take off my mask, sending them both into a wall.

I turn to the other two. They immediately raise their arms in surrender (and who can blame them, I'd surrender after seeing my enemy do a somersault like I just did).

"Against the wall!" I order. "Hands where I can see them!" I've always wanted to say that.

All four of the brawlers obey.

"Who is your boss?" I ask.

"We don't know. We never see him," one brawler replies.

"How does he tell you what to do? How were you going to turn me over to him?"

"We do business through a middle man," another explains.

A middle man? "And who might he be?"

They don't answer.

Without thinking, I grab one of the brawlers by the caller of his shirt and push him against the wall. "I asked _who is he_!"

"L-Larry," he gasps. "His name is Larry. He works at the South Street Bar."

I put him down. "I'll let you go now- but beware, if I catch any of you going near that bar or making trouble of any kind..." I finish my sentence by running my pointer finger across my neck.

"Yes, miss!" they cry before running off.

I should go trace that lead while it's still open...

I yawn. Maybe tomorrow. It's already past midnight and I' m tired. Oh, so tired.
Chapter Fourteen

I don't remember waking up or even getting ready. I'm still half asleep when I walk into the kitchen.

"Good morning, everybody," I greet groggily.

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," Dad answers.

I yawn in reply.

I don't bother talking much. Instead, I focus on staying awake long enough to eat breakfast. It would be so embarrassing to make a face plant in my eggs.

As I climb onto the school bus, I look forward to a nap.

"Did you see the news last night?" Nora asks.

Before I can say that I don't care what was on the news last night, she adds, "One of the superheroes was caught on tape again and- wait, instead of me telling you about it, let's watch it." She gives Olivia an expectant look.

Olivia sighs and puts down her book. Then she reaches into her pocket and grabs her phone out of her pocket. "Here."

Nora gladly takes the phone and uploads a video.

The video appears to have been taken from a security camera on an ATM. At first, everything seems normal, until a masked man approaches the ATM and starts tinkering with it. Somehow, he gets money out of it- a lot of money. He puts all the money in a sack. Before he can get away; however, another masked man appears- though the new arrival is wearing an army helmet, a gas mask, and camouflage.

Hunter.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hunter asks the black-clad men.

"What? No!" cries the startled robber. "How'd did you find me?"

Hunter shakes his head like he couldn't believe he was being asked that. " _Hello_ , I'm awesome. Anyway, the police are on their way, so I'd advise you to surrender."

The robber begins to raise his hands in surrender, but then takes off running.

Hunter shakes his head again and then rushes over to him, grabs his arm, and drags the robber back to the ATM. All the while, Hunter was shaking his finger at him like the robber is a naughty child.

Then, Hunter gestures for the robber to sit down. This time, the robber obeys.

Hunter then approaches the ATM, looks directly at the camera, and says, "Ninja, I'm sorry. I was wrong and you were right. Please, can we be friends again?"

My jaw drops. Did Hunter just _apologize_?! On _film_!

I watch in shocked silence as the police show up and arrest the robber. And Hunter, well, he disappears into the night.

The moment the video turns off, Nora sighs. "Isn't that romantic?"

Startling, I tear my gaze from the video to her. "Wait, what?"

"He just admitted he was wrong to the world in attempt to apologize to Ninja. He must care a lot about her. The question is, how much?"

Olivia rolls her eyes at Nora.

"What?" Nora asks innocently. "Weren't you guys wondering too?"

Actually, I was wondering if I should accept his apology or not. However, Nora does ask some interesting questions.

~~~

In English, Mrs. B. hands out the results of our pop quiz.

Slowly, I turn my paper around. A _C_ adorns its upper right corner. A _C_? I got a _C_? I am such a failure.

This is what I get for not studying every night. Seriously, though, between school and volleyball, how do adults expect me to get anything else done?

At lunch, Nora asks, "What grades did you guys get for that English test? I got a _B+."_

Great. That makes me feel so much better.

"What a coincidence," Olivia says. "I got a _B+_ too."

Just when I thought I couldn't feel worse.

They both turn to me. "What did you get?" Nora asks.

"A _C_ ," I mumble.

"Well, that confirms my hypothesis," Olivia announces.

Wait, Olivia is making hypothesis on which grades I'll get?

"Which one of your many hypotheses does it prove?" Nora asks.

"That Mrs. B is giving us lower grades than we deserve. I first got that idea when I saw an _A-_ on Carl Sanders' paper."

I gasp, but whether it was for Mrs. B.'s cruelty or the fact that Carl Sander got anything less than an A++, I'm not sure.

"What are we going to do about this injustice?" Nora asks.

"You're the reporter," Olivia answers. "You know what to do."

Nora nods. "I'll investigate your hypothesis."

"Actually, it's a theory now," Olivia says.

"Okay, if your _theory_ proves to be correct in light of further evidence, I'll write my first report as an official reporter for the school newspaper on it. Then, maybe, Mrs. B. will grade more fairly."

Yeah, I got that low grade because of Mrs. B. _That'_ s what happened. Well, at least Nora has a less dangerous thing to report on then superheroes. Though, getting on Mrs. B.'s bad side might be just as dangerous...

"I just realized something," Olivia announces. "What if Mrs. B. doesn't mean to give us unfair grades? What if she's just an ink-pot-half-empty kind of grader?"

I shrug. "It's possible."

"We should compare our English papers sometime," Nora says. "Maybe you guys can come over to my house today."

"I don't have time today," I answer. "I need to study for that math test that's coming up." I'm not risking getting another low grade again.

Nora frowns, but then she says, "Wait, you can still come over to my house and we can compare English papers _and_ help each other study."

"Sounds good." I guess I won't be practicing volleyball today.

"I'm there," Olivia says a little too enthusiastically.

"I just need to call Mother and let her know she doesn't have to pick me up," I say.

Nora tosses me her phone.

I know she'll say yes. It's going to be a fun afternoon. As long as I don't fall asleep.

~~~

"Yep," Nora says as she examines Olivia's paper on her bedroom floor. "Mrs. B. is definitely stretching our grades negatively."

"Did you get a bad grade, Nora?"

We all turn and see Andrew standing just outside Nora's room.

"What are _you_ doing here, Andrew?!" Nora exclaims as she tosses a pillow at him.

Andrew dodges the flying cushion and raises his hands in surrender- a gesture I am becoming quite familiar with. "I come in peace. Mom wanted me to tell you that you can help yourself to the leftover homemade lemonade from her fundraiser if you want. Yikes." He walks away mumbling something about pesky little sisters.

Frowning, Olivia turns to Nora. "You didn't have to be so rude."

"Sorry," Nora answers. "I forgot you liked him."

Olivia blushes. "You know I don't."

Nora rolls her eyes. "Besides, he's been unbearable lately."

Glancing up from my homework, I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He's been really secretive and stuff. For example, the other day, he was walking around with a shopping bag full of stuff and when I said 'yo', he jumped, like, ten feet into the air."

How interesting.

~~~

Sure, I'd love to live next-door to Olivia and Nora, but I don't live that far away from them, so I decide to jog home. The sunlight is warm but the breeze is cool- the perfect combination for thinking.

Should I partner with Hunter again? I know I don't like fighting crime alone, but is fighting crime with _him_ any better? Can I trust him?

Who is Hunter anyway? I've wondered about who he might be behind his mask since I've met him, but now, I wonder, is it possible that I might know Hunter's alter ego?

~~~

After dinner, Courtney herds me into her room.

Once her bedroom door has been shut, she asks, "What was that video all about?"

"What video?" I ask innocently.

"The video of Hunter apologizing to Ninja. What was it all about?"

"Oh, _that_ video." As if I could forget it.

Courtney gestures for me to continue.

I sigh and spill the beans. After all, there's nothing more relentless than a curious Courtney- except, maybe, a hungry polar bear.

"Wait, he wouldn't help you at the mall?" Courtney asks in shock.

I nod.

"Why?"

"I wish I knew."

Courtney is silent for a moment before asking, "Are you going to partner up again?"

I bite my lip. "I don't know. What would you do in my place?"

"Duh, I would _so_ accept his apology. But that's because that's what I would want to do, not because I think it's best."

Interesting point.

"Well, then, what do you think is best?" I ask.

"Hmm, maybe you should give him a second chance, but keep your distance."

"Got it. Thanks for the advice."

Courtney smiles. "No problem. Just be sure to tell me what happens next."

"You'll be the first I tell," I promise.

~~~

At exactly eight fifty, I retire to my bedroom. I change into my costume. Thankfully, no one interrupts me this time.

I jump out of my window and rush over to our old meeting place. If he's not there, then I don't know where I could find him.

He's there, standing in the corner. He looks up when I arrive.

"Ninja, you're back."

Duh. "Have you ever known me to pass up a dare?"

"So, where do you want to go first?" he asks.

"We go to the South Street Bar," I answer coolly.

"Why there?"

I take Courtney's advice to heart and ignore his question and jump onto a rooftop. I let him decide whether or not to follow me.

He hops up onto the roof beside me.

It doesn't take us long to find the bar, since its address is in its name.

"You still haven't told me why we're here," Hunter says. "You don't strike me as the drinker type."

I enjoyed showing him how it feels to be kept out of the loop, but I might as well tell him. "According to some thugs I talked to last night, this is where they get messages sent from their leader."

"So, when you're not beating them up, you have nice little conversations with the criminals?" Hunter shakes his head. "I guess I should have expected it from a girl."

"Well that's- Hey, is it just me, or does this bar look familiar?"

Hunter nods. "Yeah, it does. Wait a moment, isn't that-"

"The place I go shot?" I shutter. "Yes, it is."

"Well, I wouldn't put it past the bartender to be an informant. He was nasty."

I nod, but then freeze. "I didn't tell you the bartender was an informant. I just said this is the place where thugs get their orders."

"You didn't have to tell me. I know enough about organized crime to know that the Bosses never come into direct contact with their employees if they can help it."

"And how did you find that out?" I ask. "Maybe I'm not the only one talking to criminals."

Hunter shakes his head at me. "There are other ways to do research than over a spot of tea. So, who's the informant?"

"A man by the name of Larry."

"Ooh, _Larry_ , what a sinister name. So, how do you know that Larry didn't bolt sometime between last night and today? You know, there's so much wrong with this. Those thugs you talked to could have lied. They could have warned Larry by now. Worst yet, this could be a _trap_."

"And it could be a lead."

Hunter shrugs. "Good enough for me."

"The question is, how do we do this?"

Hunter taps the part of his gas mask that covers his chin for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Western style."

"Excuse me?"

"Like so." Without further delay, Hunter swings open the bar's doors and saunters over to the counter.

I'm beginning to think that he chose to western style not because it would be effective but because he always wanted to do it. I, for one, am glad the bar is empty except for the bartender- for more than reason.

The bartender, who is definitely the same bartender who was here the day I was shot, walks over to Hunter. "Can I help you?" he asks gruffly.

"Answer me this," Hunter replies in a bad cowboy accent. "Are you Larry?"

"So what if I am?"

"I have some business to take care of with you."

Larry (or whom I am assuming to be Larry) shrugs like masked men do business with him often (though, come to think of it, that might be the case).

"Well, I'm Larry, so spit it out."

Hunter leans over the counter. "My sources indicate that you, my friend, have been giving criminals messages from their employers. Is that true?"

"Of course it ain't true!" Larry cries. "You need better sources."

"I wouldn't lie if I were you," Hunter answers calmly.

Larry begins wiping the corner. "You can't prove I'm lying."

"Oh, well," Hunter says getting up. "I guess you can't give me what I need. I'll just take my money and go to someone who can."

Larry stops wiping the counter for a moment. "How much money would you give that person?"

"Depends on what kind of info they can give me. The better the info, the more the money."

"Maybe I just remembered something. How much will you give me for that something?"

Hunter shrugs. "If it's useful to me, I'll pay handsomely. If it isn't, I won't. And if it's not true, _you'll_ pay."

"Perhaps if you show me some of that cash, I'll remember something especially useful."

Hunter pulls a wad of cash from his pocket. "Does this trigger any memories?"

Larry rubs his beard for a moment. "Yes, it does, actually. I remember that tonight at exactly eleven o'clock, I'm going to get a visitor wearing a black hoodie. He's going to give me a note with orders from his boss. For a little more money, I'll show you that note."

"I'll be back then. And I'll bring more money."

Larry smiles a twisted smile revealing yellowed teeth. "Nice doing business with you."

Hunter nods, and then walks back outside.

"So, what do we do until then?" I ask.

"We fight crime."

I check my watch. "We have about an hour to go."

"Then let's get started."

We hop onto a roof and jump from rooftop to rooftop, checking the alleys as we go.

Finally, we spot a mugger robbing a skinny teenage boy with glasses who looks like he's used to that kind of treatment.

"You know the drill," Hunter says before he jumps down onto the mugger.

I jump down and turn to the boy.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

"Get away from me!" he cries before running off.

I watch him go with a frown. Should I take that as a yes or a no?

"Well, he obviously doesn't know the difference between good guys and bad guys," Hunter says as he flips open his phone.

I look at the unconscious mugger wearing all black and then at our ridiculous outfits. "Well, I can see how he got confused. I'd be spooked if two masked people jumped out of nowhere too."

Hunter shrugs. "Too bad we have to wear masks."

"Well, we wouldn't want to endanger our families."

"Or ourselves," Hunter adds. "If my mom ever found out I was running around fighting crime after curfew..."

I nod. "Ditto for me."

"For our own protection, I propose a deal. If you ever find out who I am underneath my mask, you tell me who you are and if I ever find out who you are underneath your mask, I'll tell you who I am. That way we'll have leverage to keep us from telling each others' parents."

How... interesting. "Deal." It's almost enough to get me to take off my mask now. Almost.

In the distance, I hear sirens.

I frown. "This is going to be tricky to do without a victim to turn that mugger in."

"You could always take off your headgear and pretend to be the victim."

I shake my head. "Really, Hunter?"

"What? Fine, we can do it without a victim. I've done it before."

"I have too, but that doesn't mean it'll be easy," I say. "With robbers, the fact that they have stolen goods usually convicts them. But muggers..." I just hope that the police arrested those muggers who jumped me last week.

"Leave the talking to me," Hunter answers.

The sirens come nearer, and out of habit, I fade into the shadows.

A moment later, a police man peers into the alley. When he spots Hunter standing near the unconscious mugger, he asks, "What happened?"

"I was on my nightly patrol and I saw that guy attacking someone so I attacked _him_ ," Hunter explains.

"And where's the victim?" the police officer asks.

Hunter shrugs. "He ran off as soon as he could."

"There isn't any evidence supporting your story. And even if it _is_ true, crime fighting isn't your job."

What am I supposed to do if the officer tries to arrest Hunter? I can't fight the law. I'm not particularly fond of Hunter at the moment, but I don't want him to rot in jail.

"Does that mean I'm in trouble?" Hunter asks.

The officer doesn't say anything for a moment and my heart freezes. Finally he grins. "Nah, you're free to go, son."

My jaw drops.

Hunter helps the officer carry the mugger to the police car parked outside the alley. Then Hunter returns as the police car drives away.

"Are you still here, Ninja?" he asks.

I jump down from my hiding place. "What was _that_ all about?"

"Oh, that was Phil. He's a friend of mine. I saved his life once."

"Oh," I say, sighing in relief. I begin walking toward the nearest building

"You were worried about me," Hunter says, touching his chest. "How sweet."

I freeze. Then turn around to face him as well as I could with us both wearing masks. "I was worried about our reputation."

"You didn't deny being worried about me."

The nerve of that boy! There's no talking reasonably with him.

I check my watch. "We had better get back to the bar before that shady informant guy gets there."

"Nice subject change."

I huff and make my way back to the bar.

We reach the bar at ten forty-four.

Before I can walk in, Hunter grabs my shoulder. "Wait for it."

Larry turns around.

"Now."

We both rush into the bar and dive under a table in a shadowy corner.

"This place needs bigger tables," I whisper to Hunter.

"I've been in smaller spaces," he whispers back.

I squirm. "You're on my leg."

"Sorry." He moves a bit, freeing my leg. "What time is it?"

I check my watch. "It's ten forty-seven." Great, I've got thirteen more minutes of this torture left.

"This isn't so bad," Hunter says, as if reading my thoughts (he better not have- he never mentioned being telepathic).

"I wasn't sitting on your leg."

"I'm not sitting on it now."

"But you were."

"Stop being such a nag or I'll start calling you Naggy Ninja."

Okay, so maybe I'm being a _bit_ of a nag, but at least it keeps me from focusing on the fact that I'm squished up to a boy. Especially _this_ boy.

How am I supposed to keep my distance like Courtney aid when his elbow is touching my elbow and all I can smell is his scent? I'm sorry I said he stank earlier, because nothing could be further from the truth. He smells like soap and maybe a touch of cologne.

Get a hold of yourself, Charisa!

Boy, do I hope he isn't telepathic.

"I'm sorry for being such a- wait, look at that."

"Look at what?"

I point toward the wall our table is up against. On that wall is a web. On that web is the biggest spider I have ever seen.

Now, I'm not one of those girls who scream at the mere mention of spiders (like Mother), but that is a _huge_ spider.

"That is one big spider," Hunter whispers.

"Do you think it's poisonous?"

He doesn't take his eyes off the spider. "I don't know."

"Keep an eye on it."

"What do you think I'm doing?"

In the distance, I hear a door open. I check my watch. It's eleven on the dot.

"He's here," I whisper.

" _Shh_ ," Hunter whispers back.

"What are you doing here?" Larry asks.

An unfamiliar voice answers, "I missed my flight."

"Was it at eight?" Larry asks.

" _Si,_ " the voice replies.

"This doesn't sound covert at all," I whisper to Hunter.

Hunter leans toward me, so that his mouth is practically touching my ear. "That was probably code to make sure they were talking to the right people."

My heart tha-thumps, and I pray Hunter didn't notice. "Oh."

"Where's the message?" Larry asks.

"It's right here," the voice answers.

"And my pay?"

"Also here," the voice replies. "Oh, and you'd better get that message into the right hands. My boss will know if you didn't, and I certainly wouldn't want to be you if that happens."

"I'll make sure," Larry assures.

"Good," the other voice says. "Now that that's over with. I'd like something to go.

Hunter nudges me on the shoulder. "Where did the spider go?"

"I don't know. I thought you were watching it."

Hunter shakes his head. "I was focusing on the conversation."

"You said you were watching it."

"I _was_ watching it until the conversation started. I have the super senses, so I thought I should be the one to listen.

"Then you should have told me to watch the spider. I-"

Hunter tenses suddenly. "Don't move."

I suddenly have a great urge to move.

Outside, I hear a cash register ding, but I don't really care.

"Is it on me?" I ask.

"Yes."

I bite my lips to keep from freaking out.

Hunter tries to brush something off my shoulder with a gloved hand.

"Is it off?"

"Not yet." Hunter brushes my shoulder again. "Now it is."

I do a whole-body shudder.

Outside, I hear the door open and shut.

"You go look at that note," Hunter orders, trying to hand me some money. "I'll tail the informer guy."

"No way, I'm not staying in this building any longer!" I cry. "I'll follow the informer guy."

Before Hunter can stop me, I crawl out from underneath the table and rush out the door."

"What in the world?!" Larry cries as I dart past him.

There is only one person outside the bar, and he's wearing a black hoodie and carrying a bottle of beer.

That has to be him.

I fade into the shadows and follow him.

Every now and then, he looks behind him, but he doesn't notice me.

He rounds a corner where a black car awaits him. He gets in and begins to drive away. I follow him.

It's so awesome to be able to keep up with a car.

The car leads me to a house. A very run down house.

The man gets out and locks his car. Then he walks up to the front door and is about to open it when his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and answers it.

"Hello?" A moment later he says, "Yes, the message has been delivered." Then he hangs up and walks into the house.

"Honey, I'm home!" he calls.

Great, a dead end. I turn around and rush back to the bar.

~~~

"Did he let you see it?" I ask Hunter.

Hunter crosses his arms. "Of course he did."

"Well, what did the message say?"

"I'll tell you after you tell me what you found out by following the informer guy."

I cross _my_ arms. "Why aren't you telling me what the message said?"

"What will happen when I tell you the message?" Hunter asks.

Before I can answer, he adds, "You'll run off with all the information and get yourself in trouble."

"Excuse me! First of all, I wouldn't betray your trust like that. Second of all, I wouldn't get into trouble. I survived just fine those first few days of crime fighting without you."

"You only survived because I pushed you out of the way of that bullet," Hunter points out.

I hate it when he's right. "I survived yesterday."

"You were almost kidnapped yesterday."

"I had everything under control. The kidnapping thing was just an act- wait, how did you know about that?"

"Research," Hunter replies smoothly, just like he says everything. However, something still seems off. Very off.

"We're getting nowhere with this nonsense," I say, "and it's getting really late." I _need_ my sleep tonight.

Hunter nods. "You're right. Now tell me what you know about the informer guy."

"You first."

Hunter taps the part of his mask that covers his chin like he did earlier. "Well, I know that he has a black hoodie, deep voice, a scary boss, and a fondness for beer."

"That's not what I meant!"

"It's not?" Hunter asks innocently.

Ugh!

"What did the note say?" I ask yet again.

"My lips are sealed. The only way I'll talk is if you tell me about the informer guy."

I pull my arms apart and place my hands on my hips. "I'm sure there are other ways to get you to talk." Like torture.

"I'd love to see you try."

"I'd love to see me try too, but sadly, I left my tweezers at home."

He cocks his head. "Why would you need tweezers?"

"They are great torture instruments." Trust me on that. I have to use them every week.

"I should have seen _that_ coming," he mutters to himself.

I glance at my watch. It's almost twelve.

"I need to go, so will you please tell me what that note said?" I ask slightly frantically. I have a karate tournament and a school dance tomorrow, after all- I need my strength.

"Of course I will, after you tell me where informer guy went."

I glare at Hunter. "Fine. He went home."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes! Now tell me what that note said."

Hunter uncrosses his arms. "It said, 'Tell the boys to meet me at the rundown theater on Corner Street at eleven tomorrow."

"That's exactly what it said?" I ask.

"Well, not exactly. It was written in code, but I deciphered it."

Yeah, right.

"Well, I'll meet you at our usual place at ten thirty tomorrow," I say. "Then we can check out that theater together."

Hunter cocks his head at me. "Why so late? You got a hot date or something?"

"My personal life is none of your business."

Hunter shakes his head. "Poor guy. Doesn't know what he's getting himself into."

"Oh, be quiet," I mutter before rushing home.

.
Chapter Fifteen

I wake up in cold sweat. I feel like I just had a terrifying dream, but I can't remember it anymore.

I quickly get ready and head into the kitchen. It's dark and empty. I check the kitchen clock. It's five thirteen.

Why didn't I check the time before I got ready? I could have gotten more sleep. I _need_ more sleep.

I return to my room, but despite my exhaustion, I'm restless.

I have to get out and do something. I'm not sure why- I just have to. For no other reason than that, I open my window and jump out. It's the first time I've jumped out of my window without my costume on, but it's not like I need it. I'm just taking a walk. Nothing suspicious about that.

I walk and walk and walk. I don't really think about where I'm going. I don't really think at all. I just walk.

Perhaps the trauma of having a dangerous double life is beginning to weigh on my mind. I don't know. I keep walking.

My daze finally wears off and I realize I should probably get home before my parents find out I'm not home and jump to crazy conclusions like that I run around in a tacky costume fighting crime in the middle of the night.

Looking around, I discover that I'm on the route I usually take to Hunter and my meeting place. I'm still in a residential area, but I'm halfway to the mall.

I turn around and start home. Boy, I'm exhausted. How am I even awake?

In the distance, I hear the skidding tires of a car going too fast and making sharp turns. I don't take much notice, though.

Until I hear the shooting.

Out of habit, I start walking toward the sound.

A moment later, a car skids down the street going much too fast. There is a driver and a passenger. The passenger is shooting a gun at someone wearing camouflage clinging to the roof of the car.

Hunter.

What is going on?

I almost rush over to help, but then I remember that I'm not in my costume. So I helplessly stand on the sidewalk as a speeding car drives by with one of its passengers shooting at my partner. I watch as Hunter flips himself through the open window on the passenger's side, landing on the passenger. He wrests the gun from the passenger's hand. Then I hear him order, "Stop the car."

The driver pulls over. They are only a few yards ahead of me, but they don't seem to have noticed me.

"Out," Hunter orders.

Both the driver and the passenger climb out of the car.

"Against the wall."

They both lean against a brick wall with their hands out.

"What do you know about him?" Hunter demands.

The passenger laughs a cold, menacing laugh. "The city's protector reduced to a common bounty hunter for the sake of his _mommy_."

Hunter drops the gun, rushes to the passenger, grabs him by the collar, and thrusts him against the wall like I did to that brawler two days ago (note to self: don't do that anymore, it looks seriously scary now that I'm seeing it done by someone who _isn't_ me). "What do you know about her?!"

The raw anger in Hunter's voice takes me by surprise.

It must take the passenger by surprise too because his ugly sneer changed to a look of fear. "That's all I know! That's all I know!"

As Hunter glares at the passenger, the driver sneaks over to the gun Hunter had dropped, picks it up, and aims it at Hunter.

"Behind you!" I scream.

Hunter spins around and tosses the passenger onto the driver. Then he rushes over, yanks the gun from the driver's hand, and breaks it in half.

I'm not tired anymore. I guess adrenaline can really wake you up.

A moment later, another vehicle, a van, comes speeding down the street. It parks next to the other car.

Two big, burly fellows jump out, take one look at the two fellows rubbing their bruises on the sidewalk, and then drag the driver and the passenger into the back of the van. Then the van drivers hop back into the van and speed away.

Well, that was weird.

A soon as the van drives away, Hunter turns to me. "Thanks for giving me that heads up."

"You're welcome." I stop myself from adding 'we're even now.'

Hunter rubs the back of his neck and I realize how awkward a position he's in- a 'damsel' had just rescued him, the hero. Of course, I'm not just a damsel, but he doesn't know that.

"What was that all about?" I ask.

"Oh, you know. The usual. A classic case of a shotgun in the shotgun seat- those guys stole a car and I had to retrieve it."

I eye the car that was left behind. I'm not touching that. "So, that explains that, but what about the van and those other guys."

Hunter shrugs. "Maybe, the robbers were late for an appointment and those other guys wanted to get them there as soon as possible."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why didn't you go after them?"

He gestures to the car. "Someone has to keep an eye on this baby until the police get here. Speaking of which, I have a call to make." He pulls out his phone and dials 911.

Once he finishes his phone call, I ask, "Why did that robber call you a bounty hunter?"

"He was stalling. He wanted to keep me distracted until he figured out how to escape."

Something's not right with that story, but I don't pester. I know Hunter won't tell me anything else on the subject.

Could the Villain Hunter really be a bounty hunter?

I clear my throat. "Well, I'd better go..."

"Wait, aren't you going to ask for my autograph?"

I roll my eyes. "Why would I want your autograph?"

"To impress your friends, of course."

"I think I'm good."

"Wait!"

I turn around and wave, but keep walking.

When I reach my yard, I sneak past the kitchen windows before climbing into my window. Then I head into the kitchen. Everyone else is already there.

"There you are," Mother says. "I was about to go get you."

_Whew_ , I got back _just_ in time.

"Are you ready for your big karate competition?" Dad asks.

Am I ready to fight karate competitively while holding back my full strength? "I think so."

He pats my shoulder with his good hand. "I know you're ready. And, Chrissie, I want you to know that we'll still love you even if you lose. Although, we might love you a _smidgeon_ less."

"Carlos!" Mother exclaims.

Dad laughs and winks at me. I know he doesn't mean it (though I might not have understood his sarcasm quite as well when I was a child- that would explain my competitiveness).

"I know you'll win," Courtney says.

She probably thinks my superpowers will be a great asset. "Thanks."

She smiles and claps her hands together like she often does when she's exited. Next, she'll probably use a big word.

"This is so invigorating!"

Called it.

~~~

On the bus, I take my usual seat.

"No matter who wins the karate competition, we'll still be friends, right?" Nora asks.

I smile. "Duh."

Olivia nods.

"Oh, and I hope you get that spot on the newspaper staff, Nora" I add.

"You and me both, sister." She sighs. "This is _so_ nerve wrecking. Olivia, you are so lucky. The science club was begging you to join."

"I also won every science fair I ever entered and got A's on every science test I ever took- but this is your first time showing off your reporting skills. And, I for one know they're going to like what they see."

Nora smiles dreamily. I, on the other hand, worry about my competition.

Sure, I've played volleyball competitively since I've gotten my powers, but that was a new thing, I didn't know how to play volleyball any other way. I also have done karate since then, but that wasn't _competitively._ With competitive karate, I give it my all. And now, I can't or I'll hurt my competition and expose my identity. And that will be bad. Oh, so very bad.

~~~

"I did it!" Nora exclaims. "I've been accepted on the paper!"

People at other tables in the cafeteria give us funny looks, but Nora doesn't seem to notice, or if she does, she doesn't care.

"Congratulations," Olivia says.

"Yeah," I agree, "enjoy your position as a reporter on the school paper while there still _is_ a school paper.

Nora sticks her tongue out at me, but then she smiles. She's too happy to be upset. I, on the other hand, am too tired to feel much of anything.

~~~

I decide to take a nap in history even though it's my second favorite class- not because of the subject matter, but because of the teacher. Miss Samantha, our youngest and coolest teacher (she even has a red streak in her curly, orange hair), really makes any time period we study come alive. Also, she has this contagious enthusiasm. If I had history first period, I'd probably get excited about the rest of my school. However, Miss Samantha isn't here today- she's at her sister's wedding. Her replacement, a nervous, freckle-faced grad would probably appreciate my falling asleep. The fewer people to see him butcher history, the better.

"Um, Miss Samantha wanted me to remind you that, uh, the first Monday of October we will be going to Washington D. C. and we will stay there through Thursday and return Friday," the substitute announces, not even remembering to introduce himself (though, he might have done that on purpose). "If you are going, you must return your permission slips by _next_ Friday."

I can't wait. In a week and a half, I should be in Washington DC, one of the few places in the US that my family hasn't already taken me.

"Now if you'll turn with me to page 57," the substitute says.

Nap time.

~~~

Mother must have noticed my nervousness because as we pull into the parking lot of my karate class, she says, "You can do this, dear."

"Yeah, you can do this," Courtney echoes from the back seat.

Can I do it? Can I hold back enough to keep from hurting someone or revealing my powers? Can I win while holding back? Can I win without feeling like a cheater?

Well, I guess I'm about to find out.

There are more cars in the parking lot than usual. Finally, Mother finds a parking spot. Then she helps Courtney while I walk into my class.

On one wall, there are several bleachers set up. I recognize Olivia's parents, Nora's parents, Andrew, who is playing with his phone, and Mrs. Rivers. I wish Dad could be here too, but it wasn't possible for him with his casts and all. Mother is videotaping the whole thing for him to watch when we get back home.

Boy, there's a lot at stake here and a lot of people who will witness any mess up I make. Also, a lot of cameras.

I head into the girls' locker room. I don't usually use it since I change at home, but I need somewhere to stretch.

Olivia and Nora are already in there, of course.

"Hey, guys," I greet. "Are you ready?"

Nora nods enthusiastically, but Olivia bites her lip.

"You'll do great, Olivia," I say.

"Or I'll have an emotional breakdown," Olivia counters. "Did you see all those people who are going to watch?"

Yes, I did.

"Just focus on beating up your opponent," Nora says. "That always helps me."

But it won't help me.

After I finish stretching, I tighten my ponytail. I have enough to worry about without strands of hair falling into my eyes.

"Is everyone decent in there?" Mr. Anderson calls from the doorway. Then playing it safe and staying on the other side he adds, "Okay, I need you girls in the main room in about five minutes. Then I'll introduce you to the audience and partner you up."

"Yes, sir."

Five minutes later, Olivia, Nora, all the other girls, Jake, Kyle, all the other guys, and I were lined up against the wall while Mr. Anderson says a cliché speech on karate and self-esteem and all that. Then he proceeds to partner us up.

I don't really listen, though. I'm too busy being nervous. Ugh, I should have just dropped out.

"Charisa will fight Tina," Mr. Anderson announces after pairing all the other boys and most of the other girls.

At the mention of my name, I begin listening.

"And Olivia will fight Nora," Mr. Anderson continues. "After each girl vs. girl fight there will be a boy vs. boy fight. After all the original pairs have been reduced to one winner and one loser, I'll pair the winners and keep doing so until we have one girl champion and one boy champion. The two champions will each receive a trophy."

After two girl fights and two boy fights, Mr. Anderson announces, "Charisa, Tina, you're turn."

Tina and I give each other the customary bow. Then she makes the first move. I counter it. She strikes again and again, but I deflect her each time. Then, I strike and she counters me. Before I know it, I'm in my zone. I forget everything else in the world and focus on winning while holding back.

After a long, difficult battle (more with myself than with Tina), Mr. Anderson finally announces, "Charisa wins."

The audience claps politely and I hear at least one whistle (did Dad put you up to it, Courtney?). Obviously, I haven't exhibited the full extent of my physical prowess.

I did it!

I help Tina up and join the other champions against the wall.

"Jake, Pete, you're next," Mr. Anderson says.

I don't really pay much attention to their fight (though Nora definitely does).

I won while holding back!

I'll have to fight again.

I might be able to win without revealing myself!

Are those freaky powers of mine making me a cheater?

Will I ever have a chance to do karate without holding back, hurting someone, or revealing my powers again?

Well, I already know the answer to that question. And as Mother often says, there's no use crying over spilled milk.

"Olivia, Nora, you're turn," Mr. Anderson says.

I pay closer attention. I can tell they are both giving it their all, especially considering their audience.

"Nora wins," Mr. Anderson announces.

Which means I might end up fighting Nora.

"Kyle, Steven, you're up."

I watch this fight as well- to find out how Kyle beat me so quickly last time, of course.

"Kyle wins."

There are two more girls' fights and two more boy fights. Finally, it's time to repair the remaining contestants.

Mr. Anderson pairs the winners of the first two girl fights. The bigger girl wins. I hope I don't have to fight her- she'd probably intimidate Goliath. Then he pairs the winners of the first two boy fights.

When they finish, I suck in my breath. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Charisa, Nora, it's your turn."

He said it.

We both bow. Nora smiles at me. Then she kicks. I dodge her. Like my fight with Tina, this fight begins mostly by Nora striking and me dodging. When I finally make my first strike, I accidentally use a little more force than I meant to, Nora falters a bit, but recovers and strikes me back. My next strike is far gentler and Nora takes advantage of it and counters, almost knocking me to the ground. Then I get into my zone.

"Charisa wins," Mr. Anderson finally announces.

Jake, who championed his last battle, fights next. Jake wins again.

The girl whom I will most likely be fighting next wins by the skin of her teeth, which is reassuring.

Kyle fights. Like Jake, he wins again.

I'm paired up with the girl who barely won, like I thought I would be. By now, I'm used to fighting while holding back so this fight seems to go more smoothly than the others. Also, this girl is a bundle of nerves. I win, of course.

Jake beats his opponent once again.

The last girl I have to fight is the first champion. She has about six inches on me and looks like she could be Hercules's sister. Sure, if I were fighting with all my strength, I could easily beat her (I think), but fighting her while holding back will be oh, so much harder...

We take our positions and bow. Then she lunges at me. I dodge. She circles back and gives me a dual punch/kick. I dodge her fist but not her foot. Thankfully, I recover very quickly. I attempt to strike her, but she blocks my hand with her fist of steel. We both back away from each other for a moment. Then she lunges back at me and attempts to kick me, but I use one of those good, old basic maneuvers and knock my foot into her outstretched leg, knocking her over.

"Charisa wins!" Mr. Anderson exclaims.

The crowd goes wild. Well, as wild as a partially stunned crowd can get at least. Only Courtney doesn't seem surprised.

I only get to enjoy my spotlight fir a moment, though, because it's Kyle and Jake's turn to fight.

From watching their previous fights, I know that Jake is good, really good, but Kyle might just be better. From watching this fight, I can tell they know each other well- they've obviously been friends for a long time. They seem to know what the other is going to do before he does it. Unlike my last fight, this fight seems graceful.

"Kyle wins!" Mr. Anderson exclaims when Kyle finally knocks Jake to the ground. Then he gestures for me to join Kyle on the mat.

Mr. Anderson hands us both a trophy. The trophies aren't much, just shiny plastic cups on a pedestal that has a plaque that says 'karate'. But that's okay; I'm not picky.

Kyle grins and winks at me.

I can't help it- I grin back.

"Congratulations," Mr. Anderson says to us. To the audience he says, "There are snacks in the adjoining room. Help yourselves."

The audience filters into the foyer. Meanwhile, I return to the girls' locker room to freshen up. Olivia and Nora are already there.

"I can't believe you won!" Nora exclaims when she sees me. "Not that I doubted your talent or anything, but that girl looked like a female Samson."

"So, no hard feelings?" I ask.

"Of course not."

Olivia, who has been quietly fluffing her hair suddenly asks, "Do you think I looked stupid out there? I mean, I was the fourth one out."

I shake my head. "No, no- you fought really well."

"Besides," Nora adds, "you have the rare talent of unmovable hair. After the fight, my hair was everywhere, but your hair was neat."

Olivia tries to fluff her hair again. "That's because it's so straight. Too straight."

"Nonsense, having straight hair is much better than having hair is much better than having hair that won't decide whether to be straight or curly like mine. Besides, you've been blessed with blonde hair. I got boring brown hair."

"Stop complaining," I say. "At least your hair is tamable."

Olivia gives up trying to fluff her hair and sighs. "At least _your_ hair is interesting."

"Interesting isn't necessarily better."

"How did this conversation even start?" Nora asks.

Olivia shrugs.

I frown. "I have no idea."

"Me neither," Nora agrees. "Now let's go get something to drink."

I nod and we head to the adjoining room.

Mother, Courtney, Nora's parents, Andrew, and Olivia's parents are all standing together and we join them.

"You girls were all wonderful," Mother says when she see us.

"I knew you could do it," Courtney adds.

I smile at her. She and I were the only ones who knew exactly what I did.

Mrs. Rivers, Kyle, and a tall, Japanese American man with an impressive mustache join us.

"You were wonderful out there, dear," Mrs. River gushes, pulling me into a hug.

"Um, thank-you," I say pulling away. Wasn't she just sick?

Smiling at her one last time, I turn to Kyle. "You were pretty good too."

Kyle nods like this was something he had known for a while and was glad I had finally figured it out. "Ditto."

The tall man with the mustache steps forward. "I'm Kyle's uncle. In fact, you can call me Uncle Rivers. He's told me so much about you, Charisa. And I must say, you're very talented. With a little more practice, you might be able to take down my nephew- and that's something I would just _love_ to see." Uncle Rivers chuckles.

Apparently Kyle hasn't told him _that_ much about me.

"Well, we need to go now," Mother says.

Kyle winks at me again. "See you tonight."

My nervousness about karate is nothing compared to the butterflies that took shelter in my stomach just then.

~~~

"You won, didn't you?" Dad asks when I walk into the door.

I grin. "Of course."

"You'll have to see the video, darling," Mother says. "But first, let's have some dinner. I made lasagna."

_Mm_ , my favorite.

After eating dinner, I take a quick shower and dry my hair. Then I take a nap. When I wake up and check my watch, it's six thirty. Yikes! I only have half an hour to get ready before Kyle's mom drops him off.

I jump out of bed and quickly pull on my only dress. It's long, black, and lacy. I tie a red sash around my waist (it's a little closer to my karate belt color than black is). Then I French braid my hair- a difficult task. I pull my whistle over my head as I apply some lip gloss. Finally, I slip into my black slip-ons. Hopefully, no one notices that they are the same shoes that Ninja wears.

I step out of my room, where Mother is waiting. "Oh, honey, you look beautiful, but maybe you should borrow my pearl necklace."

I clutch my whistle.

"Or not," Mother says. "Here, let me get some pictures of you all dolled up.

Five photographs later, I ask, "Isn't that enough evidence that I wore a dress once in my life?"

Mother nods and wipes a tear from her eye. "It's just that you look so precious. You should really wear skirts more. If you want-"

"I'm good," I interrupt. "Where is Kyle anyway? He should be here by now."

"He came early. He's in the living room talking to your Dad."

What? _Oh no_.

I hurry into the living room. Sure enough, Kyle is there, wearing a white, button-down shirt, a pair of black jeans, a black tie, and black dress shoes. Both he and Dad turn around when I enter.

"Oh, hi, Chrissie," Dad greets. "I was just telling Kyle about my gun collection and position on the police force."

Kyle nods solemnly. "I pity the man who gets on your dad's bad side."

"So do I," I agree. "Now we'd better get going. The dance has already stated."

"Young people these days," Dad mutters to himself. "Always in a hurry."

A super fast hurry. "Bye, Dad, I love you." I grab Kyle's hand and drag him to the door.

From the window, I can see that Mother is already in the car, waiting for us.

I quickly open the door. "Kyle, aren't you coming?"

Kyle looks up from where he was looking at our united hands with one of his ridiculous grins.

I quickly let go.

Once we're in the car, Mother starts driving. Thankfully, she doesn't try to ask any embarrassing questions. In fact, the ride to the school is mostly silent.

"We're here," Mother finally announces. "Now you kids go have fun."

Kyle nods and climbs out of the car. Then, before I can tell what he's doing, he walks over to my side of the car and opens my door.

"Um, thank-you," I mutter. "But I am fully capable of opening a car door."

Kyle grins.

"Oh, wait, let me get a picture of you two together," Mother says.

I sigh and grit my teeth into a smile.

"Closer," Mother orders.

Kyle and I slide a little closer.

"There, now smile pretty, Charisa."

She takes the picture and then another one before finally driving off.

"Shall we?" Kyle asks.

I nod.

He offers me his arm.

I stare at it dubiously.

"You're supposed to take it."

"I know, I've read about this in school. It's just that no one has ever offered me their arm before."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys you know, but my mom raised me right."

I raise an eyebrow, but I take his arm. If it were anyone other than Kyle, I might have even been a little pleased. A little.

When we reach the doorway, I notice Kyle reaching to open one of the doors, so I quickly grab the handle and open it.

Kyle shakes his head at me. "You're hopeless."

I ignore him. "Hey, look, it's Nora and Jake by the refreshments table."

Kyle takes the door from me and opens it wider. Then we go through and join them.

Jake is wearing a tan shirt, a bow tie, and a pair of khakis. Nora is wearing a knee-length green dress with silver heels that could double as weapons.

"Hey, guys," I greet "how's it going?"

Nora smiles. "Everything is going perfectly."

"What are the best snacks?" Kyle asks.

"The pumpkin spice cookies are my favorite," Jake says. "But I like the glazed apple slices too. And you have got to try the pecan pie. It's over here." He pulls Kyle away.

"Guess who else is here," Nora says.

"Olivia?"

"Ding. Ding. Ding. My brother asked her."

My jaw drops. "No way. What happened?"

"After we got home today, Andrew disappeared into his room. But I didn't think much of it. He does it all the time."

I roll my eyes.

"Anyway, a little while later, this hobo came out of his room carrying a sign that said 'will dance for food'. I was so startled, that I didn't realize until after he went outside that he was Andrew in a disguise."

"Weird."

"I know. So then I looked out my window and saw him knock on Olivia's front door. Olivia opened up her door but when she saw Andrew and the sign, she slammed the door on him. But he just opened the door and stepped in. I heard Olivia scream and I ran out and told her it was Andrew. Poor Olivia, she was hyperventilating! Then my parents and her parents came running from various directions asking what was going on and I tried to tell them what I had seen, but Andrew kept interrupting saying it was just a joke. And poor Olivia was trying to stop hyperventilating. It was crazy."

"I can imagine."

"Thankfully, my dad was able to figure out what was going on and told Andrew that he had better be nice to Olivia when he took her to the dance and that was the end of it. I don't know if Andrew meant to ask her to the dance or was just trying to get back at her for that exploding cake, but either way, he had to take her."

"Wow. Life's crazy."

Nora nods.

"Where is Olivia anyway?"

"Over there on the dance floor."

Sure enough, Olivia is on the floor dancing with Andrew. Olivia is wearing a long, pink dress with an elaborate rose pattern- last year's Easter dress. Andrew, surprisingly, isn't dressed like a hobo. Instead, he's wearing a crisp blue shirt, a silver dog tag, and (for the first time ever) un-ripped jeans. Olivia looks petrified and Andrew looks pleased with himself.

"They make such a cute couple," I say.

"Who do?" Kyle asks, suddenly beside me.

"We weren't talking to you," I retort.

Nora gestures at her brother and her friend. "They do."

Kyle shrugs. "The guy needs a haircut."

Chuckling, Nora turns and notices Jake. "Oh, Jake, there you are." She grabs his hand and tugs him forward. "Let's go dance."

Jake only has a moment to put his plate down before being dragged to the dance floor.

Kyle turns to me. "Would you like to dance?"

In the distance, I spot Vanessa and Carter. "Sure."

Kyle and I walk over to the dance floor. Thankfully, the current song isn't a slow one.

Kyle and I get into position. I stay as far away from him as possible.

"You know, Chrissie, it would be much more fun if you actually treated me like a dance partner," Kyle says.

"What do you mean? I'm dancing with you, aren't I?"

"If you call this dancing. You need to relax. And stop trying to lead- that's my job. You'll have a lot more fun when you dance correctly. Allow me to demonstrate."

Kyle pulls me closer and begins to lead. "See isn't this much more fun?"

I purse my lips. "It's thrilling."

He ignores my sarcasm. "I don't think I got a chance to tell you this earlier, but I think you clean up nicely."

"Too bad I can't say the same about you."

Kyle grins. "It's a good thing I know you don't mean that."

The song ends.

"I'm thirsty," I say.

"But were just at the refreshment table."

"Yeah, but I was talking to Nora, not drinking punch."

Kyle rolls his eyes, but starts walking back to the refreshment table.

Standing next to the punch bowl are Carter and Vanessa.

I freeze, causing Kyle to jerk back. "Maybe I can do one more dance."

"After all that work to get here?" Then Kyle notices me noticing Carter and Vanessa. "Oh, is that the guy who turned you down?"

"Maybe."

Kyle shakes his head at me. "What's up with you, Charisa? I've never known you to back down from a challenge before."

"I wasn't backing down; I was taking more time to build my defenses."

" _Sure_ you were. Now come on- no living man has ever gotten between me and food before, and it's not going to happen today."

Much to my chagrin, we finish our pilgrimage to the refreshment table.

Vanessa sneers when she sees me, but when she notices Kyle, she looks rather surprised. After looking him up and down, she grabs Carter's arm possessively and leads him over to us. Carter doesn't seem to notice; he's too busy playing with his phone (which is probably way more interesting than Vanessa).

"Hello, Charisa," Vanessa greets coolly. "I seem to be at a disadvantage- you know who _my_ date is, but I don't know who your date is."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't introduce you earlier," I answer just as coolly. "Kyle, this is Vanessa and Carter. Vanessa, Carter, this is Kyle Rivers."

Carter absently waves without looking up from his phone.

Vanessa studies us for a moment. "Well, you definitely don't look like cousins. So if not that, how did you get him to come? Did you bribe him?"

I gasp inwardly. Did she seriously just ask that?

"Why would she need to bribe me?" Kyle asks, unperturbed. "What guy doesn't want an excuse to dance with a pretty girl?"

"Well, then, I hope you two have fun. Come on, Carter, let's go dance." With a flick of her lifeless hair, Vanessa drags Carter away.

"Well, I can see why you didn't want to talk to her," Kyle says when she's out of earshot. "She's like a wild cat, that one. Seriously, what did you do to provoke her? Or was she born with one claw already out?"

I finger the punch ladle. "Back in sixth grade, I caught her cheating on her science test with my answers, and I told the teacher. But I like your idea too."

Olivia and Andrew approach us (or the cookies behind us; it could be taken either way).

"Hi, Olivia," I greet before giving her a hug. "Love your dress- well on you anyway. I would never wear something so pink, but on you it looks great."

Olivia smiles nervously at me. She looks so frazzled.

Andrew walks past me, to the punch bowl.

I glance at him before lowering my voice to a whisper. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yes!- I mean no." She sighs. "Oh, I don't know. I keep thinking I'll do something embarrassing or he'll pull another prank on me, or- why did I have to give him that cake anyway?"

"You need a break," I say. "Let's swap partners."

Olivia smiles at me. "Thanks. It will be nice to have a break from _him_. Ugh, I don't even know if he meant to ask me to the dance or not. This would be so much more fun if I knew."

I nod, and then join Andrew at the punch bowl. "Hey, Andrew, could you dance with me when the next song starts- as long as it isn't a slow one?"

Andrew shrugs. "Why not."

"And what about me?" Kyle asks.

"You can dance with Olivia." In a whisper I add, "And be extra nice to her. She's a nervous wreck."

Kyle salutes me and stands at attention.

Then the next song starts(thankfully, it's not a slow one), and Andrew and I walk onto the dance floor.

"Why did you pull that prank on Olivia?" I ask.

"I'll tell you right after you tell me why she pulled that prank on me," Andrew retorts.

"Touché."

"Why do you keep trying to lead?"

"Force of habit. You know, you didn't have to dress up as a hobo to startle poor Olivia. With your long hair and ratty clothes you could have passed as one easily."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

"That's why I said it."

At the end of the song, Andrew and I walk back to the refreshment table. Nora and Jake are there.

"Are we swapping partners?" Nora asks, "'cause if you are, then I want to swap with you."

I raise an eyebrow.

"I have nothing against Jake or anything. He's a nice guy and all, but I wouldn't mind dancing at least one dance with Kyle. You have to admit, he's easy on the eyes."

I don't have to admit anything. "Fine, you can dance with him."

Kyle walks over with a much calmer looking Olivia. "Who are you trading me to this time?"

Nora smiles coyly and waves.

"Wait, I'm dancing with Charisa, now?" Jake asks.

I nod.

"Fine- let me just finish this cookie."

Once he finishes it, we both walk over to the dance floor.

"Um," Jake says awkwardly.

"Yes?"

"Is Nora always this, uh, high-maintenance?" he asks. "I mean, she actually gave me a corsage to give her- and she made me put it on three her times before she thought I had done it properly."

I giggle. "She's usually pretty laid back. It's just that this is her first dance and she wants this to be perfect."

"Oh." He glances down. "Hey, nice shoes."

I nearly choke. Thankfully the song ends before further mention of my footwear can be made, and Kyle and Nora meet us where we are.

"Hey, I'll swap you," Kyle says to Jake.

Jake hands me over to Kyle and then takes Nora's hand.

I frown as he pulls me deeper into the dancing throng. "Why didn't you wait until we went back to the refreshment table?"

"I was worried that the next person you would trade me to was Miss Wildcat over there."

I roll my eyes. "Like I would wish that on anyone."

"Better safe than sorry. So, are you done avoiding me?"

"I wasn't avoiding you. I was helping my friends."

"Uh-huh, likely story."

"What? You're the one who said that I never back down from a challenge."

Kyle raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm challenge, am I?"

Before I can say anything more, the next song starts. It's the dreaded slow song.

Kyle pulls me toward him into the customary slow song position.

Ugh; I hate slow songs.

Kyle doesn't try to converse with me, which somehow makes this total intrusion of my personal space even worse.

"So how's your mom?" I manage.

"You just saw her today." His voice tickles my ear.

"I know, it's just that I heard she was sick."

"She's better now. Sometimes she randomly gets sick one day and then is perfectly well the next."

Oh, how it tickles! "Maybe it's just an excuse to spend more time with you."

"It's not. She really was sick... I don't really want to talk about this. Tell me about you. What's your favorite color?"

"You want to know my favorite color?"

"Yes. What is it?"

"Purple."

"Purple?"

"Yeah. You have a problem with that?"

"No, it's just not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Black or something."

"Well, what's _your_ favorite color?"

"Black. What's your favorite shape?"

"Shape? You have got to be kidding me. Color, I can understand, but shape?"

"Just answer my question."

I purse my lips. "Well, I never really thought about it. I guess my favorite shape would have to be a diamond since they're sharp but pretty."

Kyle laughs. "Sounds about right I'm partial to triangles myself."

"Well, what's your favorite food?"

"Hey, wait a moment- it's _my_ job to ask the questions."

"Answer me."

He laughs again. "Fine, my favorite food is spinach."

"You're lying."

"Am not. I was a Popeye fan as a child."

" _Okay_ then- I like chocolate myself." I can't believe I'm dancing with a spinach fan.

He grins, enjoying my disgust way too much. What's wrong with this guy? "What was your most embarrassing moment?"

"I'm not answering that." I'm taking that horrible lip stick and shaving cream incident to my grave.

"Oh, come on."

"Nope."

"If I tell you mine you have to tell me yours."

"No, I don't. I have constitutional rights."

"You're no fun. Will you at least tell me your second most embarrassing moment?"

I sigh. He can be such a nag. "Fine- when I asked Carter to come to the dance and he said he had already asked Vanessa. Now tell me yours."

"I don't have to," Kyle counters. "I have constitutional rights you know."

"That's it; I'm done talking to you."

Kyle laughs yet again.

Ugh, I hate it when other people get the last laugh.

~~~

"How'd it go?" Mother asks when Kyle leaves.

"Fine."

"That's your answer to everything."

I yawn. "It's late and I'm tired. See you in the morning."

I hurry to my room before Courtney demands a word by word recount of the evening. I quickly slip out of my dress and change into my costume. Then I jump out my window and rush to the meeting place.

Villain Hunter is already there, pacing. He stops when he sees me. "How'd your date go?"

"We better hurry if we want to get to that theater in time."

"You really need to loosen up some."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm pursuing a lead to the identity of a crime lord."

Hunter crosses his arms. "You know, Ninja after all this we'll only find one crime lord, and there's at least two. Wouldn't it be better to just fight off their henchmen? After all, we can capture a lot more of those in one night."

"Are you chickening out on me?"

"No, I'm just being efficient."

"Wouldn't it be efficient to take out the leader and save us all that time fighting the henchmen?"

Hunter throws his arms in the air. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Well, come on then."

We both jump onto a roof and jump rooftop to rooftop all the way to Corner Street. From there, it's pretty easy to spot the rundown theater.

"How do we get in?" I ask. After all, the doorway might be guarded.

"Through there," Hunter says, pointing at a broken window.

"That seems dangerous."

"Everything we've been doing is dangerous."

I shrug and follow him (carefully) through the window.

The theater is completely vacant (unless one counts the massive dust bunnies). The ratty rows of cushioned chairs might have been black at one time, but now are gray. Cobwebs decorate the wall and dust blankets the floor. And there isn't a single decent hiding place.

"Where should we- _achoo_!- hide?" Gross- masked sneeze.

"Bless you," Hunter says before pointing up.

Rafters are crisscrossing all across the roof. The roof itself isn't that high, but still...

I shake my head. "I don't think so, those things look like they'll break off and fall if one more speck of dust lands on them."

"Are you chickening out on me?" Hunter asks, echoing me. Then he jumps up to a rafter, grabs it, and pulls himself up. When he gets completely onto the board, I can't see him at all until he pokes his head out and says, "See, it's perfectly safe."

I sigh. Who knew being a superhero that couldn't fly would entail dealing with so many high areas?

I jump up to the rafters, grab one, and cling to it for dear life until Hunter grabs my arm and pulls me up.

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

I shrug like it wasn't, even though it was.

"What time is it?" Hunter asks.

I check my watch. "It's ten thirty-six." Which means we have another long wait ahead of us. At least this one doesn't have any large spiders involved. I hope.

Hunter starts crawling across the rafters.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going somewhere more comfortable- I've had a long day. And I've gained a new respect for the law." Hunter reaches the end of the rafter and leans against the wall.

I crawl carefully toward him. "And why would that be?"

"It's a long story." He slides a bit to the side to give me a little room to sit down.

"We've got time."

Just then, I hear the theater door open.

"You were saying?"

" _Shh,_ " I scold.

I hear voices below us, but I can't make out the words. I turn to Hunter to see if he can hear.

"Can you hear?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"Too bad."

I glare at him, though he probably couldn't tell since I'm wearing goggles.

"There are only two guys now," Hunter whispers. "More are on the way."

A few minutes later, I hear more men enter.

"Is that all of them?" I ask.

Hunter shakes his head.

How many of these guys are coming anyway?

The door opens again and I hear another guy enter.

"They're all here," Hunter announces.

I can still hear only bits and pieces, so I don't really bother listening. I'm bored, tired, and strangely comfortable, so it's no surprise that I'm half asleep ten minutes into the meeting.

Sometime later, Hunter whispers, "Ninja, are you awake?"

"Of course I am," I mutter more drowsily than I mean to.

"Well, the meeting is over and one of them mentioned returning to the boss to give a report. I can't tell exactly which guy said it, though... But I've got it narrowed down to the guy in the black shirt and the guy in the gray shirt. So you follow the guy in the gray shirt and I'll follow the guy in the black shirt?"

I nod, still rather sleepy.

"But do _not_ follow him inside anywhere," Hunter adds. "When you feel sure the guy has gone to his boss' base or that it's a dead end, return to our meeting place. There we'll share our information and form our plan of attack for tomorrow, understand?"

I nod again and start to get up, but then he pulls me back down and uses his gloved hand to tip my chin to look up at him.

"Promise me you won't follow the man inside _anywhere."_

I hesitate for a moment before finally nodding. "You have my word."

"Good." Hunter peaks over the rafter. "The only guys left are the two we have to follow."

Then I hear the door open and shut. Hunter looks over the rafter again. "They're gone."

Hunter and I both hop down. Then we quickly crawl through the window.

The man in the black shirt is walking up the sidewalk. The man in the gray shirt is walking the opposite way.

"Good luck," Hunter says before walking away.

The man in the black shirt turns out to be even _more_ paranoid than the last guy I stalked. Seriously, he looks back about every two steps. Thankfully there are a lot of alleys in this part of town.

After about fifteen minutes of walking (it would have taken less time if the guy didn't keep turning around), the man pauses at a building. The building looks similar to all the others on the street: tall, tight, and slightly shabby, like it's being squeezed up by its neighbors.

The man knocks four times in an almost musical pattern. The door opens slightly and I hear a nasally voice ask, "Who's there?"

"Just another business man," the man in the black shirt answers.

Immediately, the door opens and the man is ushered inside. Then, just as quickly, the door is shut.

Did those knocks mean something? Were those words a code? Should I sneak inside myself?

Of course I shouldn't- I gave my word, and as my dad always says, the O'Dells never break their word.

Sigh. Why did I have to be raised so well?

Well, I should probably get going before curiosity gets the best of me.

I dash away.

Hunter isn't at the meeting place when I get there.

Great, I should have just stayed where I was. Then I could be doing something useful- like watch a building that may or may not be a base for criminal activity.

Five minutes later, Hunter shows up.

"My guy went to Freddie's Fries," he announces. "I watched him eat greasy food for fifteen minutes just in case someone was going to meet him there." He sighs. "But nothing happened and now I'm hungry. How about you?"

"My guy was, like, the most paranoid guy ever. But, I was able to follow him to this obscure building. There, he knocked in what sounded like a pattern. Then someone on the other side asked who was there and the guy answered- and I quote, 'just another business man.' The other person let him in. I don't know if it means anything, but it sure is suspicious.

Hunter nods. "It's definitely a lot more suspicious than going to Freddie's Fries. We'll investigate that building tomorrow."

"So, I'll meet you here tomorrow, at nine?"

"Of course you will. No one can resist me for long."

I roll my eyes. "Just keep telling yourself that." Then I rush home to get some sleep.
Chapter Sixteen

I sleep in because A., it's Saturday; B., I haven't gotten much sleep lately; and C., I was having this beautiful dream that I was being given the same exact trophy I got for winning the karate competition, only I got it for bringing a crime lord to justice.

I probably wouldn't have even gotten up except that breakfast smells so good and besides, I have to help Mrs. Walters today.

So when I do get up, I have to get ready quickly and run into the kitchen. Everyone is already there eating.

"Good morning, everyone," I greet.

"Hi, Champ," Dad says, resurrecting my old baby name.

"Your food is already at your place," Mother says. "It's a good thing you came when you did because your dad was eying it up."

I grin, but then the most random thought hits me."Wow, I can't believe I'm turning fifteen in a week. Where has the time gone?"

"Who said you were turning fifteen this year?" Dad asks. "I never agreed to that."

Courtney sighs. "I love birthday parties."

Is there anything she doesn't love?

It's a really beautiful day, and I'm not surprised to see Mrs. Walters outside watering her flower garden. That was one job she had never assigned me: watering her babies.

"Hi, Mrs. Walters," I say. Can I borrow some of those tea leaves for Courtney?

She looks up. "Oh, Charisa, I didn't see you there."

"Well, you see me now, so what do you want me to do?"

"Please mow the lawn; I think that's all that needs to be done."

I nod and get to work.

By the time I finish, Mrs. Walters has already finished making tea and cookies.

I clear my throat and finger a cookie."You know those tea leaves that you and your husband worked on? The ones in the safe?"

"I know the ones."

"Well, since you're a botanist and all, I wanted to know if they could do something special, like, I don't know, heal someone?"

She sips her tea. "Both of the parents of those tea leaves had healing properties. Jeremiah and I did everything in the breeding and growing process of that plant to ensure that it would retain those healing properties and maybe build on them. Jeremiah was the one who did most of the testing. I think only he knew the true power those leaves contained..."

I choke on a cookie.

"We never did finish all the experiments before he died. In fact, the last words he said to me were that the leaves did more than we ever dreamed they could. That they not only had healing powers, but also, if one was perfectly healthy when one took the tea, gained regenerating health. He also said they were dangerous in the wrong hands, but didn't elaborate. He made me promise to keep them secure and keep them secret."

I glance up. "Have you?"

She nods. "But I'm an old woman and I won't live forever. I'm telling you these things so if anything ever happened to me, you will know what to do. Keep them secure and secret."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And, Charisa, those leaves are all there is of their kind. My husband burned the careful notes I took as I bred and grew them and the notes he took as he experimented on them. He often said that he ought to burn the leaves themselves, but he could never get himself to. Neither could I."

"Do you think that maybe the leaves would cure Courtney?"

"Probably; my husband said they could cure anything. However, I don't know what else it would do. It's probably best for Courtney not to drink them. I don't know what side effects she would suffer."

But _I_ do.

"The only reason I would ever use them is if someone were deathly ill and there was no other cure. Only then."

I try to look casual as I take my next cookie. "Have you ever used them?"

Mrs. Walters nods. "I've used them once. A thirteen year-old boy was dying of a rare, deadly disease. I knew his mother. She had already lost so much, and so I sent him the tea leaves anonymously. He's cured."

"Who was he?" I ask, my cookie frozen in midair.

"I think it's best to keep him unnamed, for both you and him."

Oh, come _on_. "Well, thanks for the tea and cookies."

"You're welcome. Oh, and, Charisa, I trust you."

I nod. Well, I guess Courtney will have to wait for her tea. But she will get it- someday.

~~~

"Can I go to the library?" I ask.

"Are all your chores done?" Mother asks back.

I nod.

"Then go on."

"Thanks," I say, already running toward the door.

It's time that I do what Hunter does and learn about my enemies i.e., study criminals. Who knows- I might even see Hunter at the library.

The library is just a brisk jog away, so it doesn't take me long to get there.

I spend the rest of my afternoon surfing the internet and reading books on crime. And maybe daydreaming a little...

~~~

I get home just in time for dinner.

"Why haven't you been asking me about superhero sightings anymore, Courtney?" Dad asks after we've said grace.

Courtney opens her mouth to answer, and I nudge her arm with my elbow. She closes her mouth and then opens it again. "You haven't been to the station. How would you know the news?"

"Dads know everything," he answers. "It's part of our job."

"I thought moms knew everything," Mother counters.

Dad takes a drink of his milk, leaving his mustache slightly white. "Fine, _parents_ know everything."

"If you know everything, then wouldn't you know who the superheroes are?" Courtney asks.

"Who says I don't know who they are?"

I know he's joking, but my heart begins to pound faster anyway.

"Do you know, darling?" Mother asks.

"Why, one of them is Charisa, of course," he answers. "It's just the sort of thing she'd do."

My heart stops.

"But, then again, she'd never sneak out in the middle of the night," Dad adds, "so it can't be her."

Is it even possible to feel this guilty and this relieved at the same time?

"So, if Charisa isn't one of them, who are they?" Courtney asks.

Dad shrugs. "They seem young, and I don't know as many young people as I used to, and the few I know don't seem like likely candidates- no offense to your friends."

"None taken," I assure. I can't really see Olivia or Nora doing it either.

"Though, come to think of it, that Kyle fellow might be one of them-"

I choke on my milk.

When I finish coughing on my milk, Dad asks, "Is it really that unbelievable?"

"Uh... I just can't see Kyle being a superhero." Maybe a super _villain_ , though.

"Too bad," Dad says. "Someone like that could really protect you after you were married."

It's a good thing I'm not drinking my milk at the moment. "Dad, how many times do I have to tell you that I can protect myself just fine? I want to be a cop, for crying out loud. And I am _so_ not marring Kyle!"

Dad raises an eyebrow.

"You know, the funniest thing happened the other day," Courtney says suddenly.

Thank-you, so much, Courtney- I owe you one.

~~~

It might not be the best idea to go out tonight. What if Dad or Mother takes Dad's words to heart and come check on me, and I'm not here? That would _not_ be good.

But I can't leave Hunter standing, and I can't pass up this opportunity to bring a crime lord to justice, so I guess I'll just have to take precautions. I put a spare pillow underneath my sheet and put Susie, one of my old dolls, on my bed in a way that her black curls can be mistaken for mine. Hopefully that should be enough.

I change into my costume and hop out of my window. Then I rush to the meeting place. As usual, Hunter is already there, and he's pacing again.

"Hey, Ninja," he greets in a worried tone that takes me by surprise. "Maybe we shouldn't do this tonight."

"Why not?"

Still pacing he answers, "I don't know. Just because."

"That's not a good enough reason."

"Fine then- it's because we're not ready for this. Taking down a crime lord is beyond us."

I cross my arms. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready. I have _superpowers-_ I'm strong enough to do anything I want to do. No way am I letting some shadowy puppet master scare me off- I'm way more powerful than he is. I bet I could fight whoever it is with my right arm tied behind my back. I _can_ do this. I _am_ strong enough. And I _will_ go whether you come along or not."

"Okay, okay, I've got it. If you're so sure about this-"

"I'm sure."

"Then let's go." Hunter gestures to the roof. "After you."

I jump onto the rooftop. Then I hop rooftop to rooftop until I get to the street the building in question is situated on. There, I jump down and melt into the shadows of the street. Hunter follows.

Together we scale the whole building in search of a broken window, but they are all locked and darkened.

"How do we get in?" I ask.

"Like so," Hunter says. "Now stand aside."

He knocks the same knock that I had told him about. Then, he melts into the shadows.

The door opens up a crack. "Who are you?"

Hunter says nothing.

The door closes and Hunter knocks again before slipping away.

The door opens up a crack again. "Who are you?" asks a slightly more irritated voice.

No answer is given.

The door closes again and Hunter knocks yet again before hiding.

This time, however, the door opens all the way and a man steps out and looks around.

Hunter and I take that moment to dash inside and turn a corner.

The interior of the building is dark but spotless, undecorated but orderly, eerie but not _too_ eerie.

Hunter and I creep down the tight hallway.

"So, what do we do now?" I ask.

"Follow me," Hunter answers, looking straight ahead.

I do follow him from one winding hallway to another. Sure he probably doesn't knows where he's going, but then again, neither do I.

Finally, Hunter pulls me into a room. The room seems to be a library of sorts with blueprints stuffed in shelves along one wall and desks against the other. In each corner of the ceiling is some sort of metal ball.

"This looks like the kind of place to find incriminating evidence," he says.

"Do you think those are cameras?" I ask, pointing at the metal balls.

Hunter glances at one. "Nah, those look like speakers." Then he quietly shuts the doors.

"How will we keep watch?" I ask.

"I've got super senses. Besides, this isn't exactly a happening place."

He's got a point- I haven't seen anyone else in here except the guy at the entrance.

I begin to search the papers scattered on the desks. There are piles of ID's and credit cards among other things.

"This is certainly a peculiar place," I say.

"It is, isn't it," Hunter mumbles half-heartedly.

I turn around to ask him what he _really_ thinks of everything and see him pull a small gadget from his pocket. He pushes a series of buttons on it.

The orbs in the corners of the ceiling begin hissing.

"What's going on?" I demand. "Did you do that?"

"I'm so sorry, Ninja," Hunter answers.

"What do you mean?" I start coughing.

I turn to the door, but before I can rush over, Hunter points the gadget at it and I hear it click. I fumble with the door's handle, but it's no use- it's locked.

"I had no choice," Hunter says, still standing aloof near the door. "He would have hurt my mother if I didn't listen to him."

"What are you talking about?" I gasp in between coughs. "Why is the room spinning?"

"Those orbs aren't speakers."

Duh.

"They are emitters, and at the moment, they are emitting a special kind of gas into the room. It's what's causing your coughing fits and dizziness."

Really? And here I was blaming the nonexistent dust. "Why isn't it affecting you?"

"I'm wearing a gas mask."

"Oh, yeah." Stupid woozy head making me stupid. "Why is it affecting _me_ \- I have regenerating health."

Hunter shakes his head sadly. "Not against this stuff. In fact, this stuff is specially designed to target your powers and numb them. You won't be able to use them for a while."

I slump to the ground, or maybe the ceiling. I can't tell the difference. "You're the other superhuman aren't you? All this time it has always been you."

He doesn't answer.

"How could you?" I gasp.

"I already told you," Hunter answers, his voice faltering.

"How could you?"

Then I pass out.

~~~

When I open my eyes again, my vision is cloudy. I can't tell where I am or even how I got here.

I'm sitting in something. I think it's a metal chair. I feel like I'm suffocating and begin to panic, but then I remember that I'm wearing a ski mask. My arms feel tied down to the arms of the chair, though, I can't tell if they really are or not. My legs feel knotted together.

I raise my head, causing a wave of nausea to wash over me. I wait for it to fade away before attempting to move again.

Finally, my vision clears, though there isn't much to see. Wherever I am, it has really bad lighting.

I painfully twist my head to the left. Nothing but darkness. I twist my head to the right. It's the same there. The movement causes a new wave of nausea to wash over me.

What has happened to me? It can't be a hangover- I've never touched alcohol in my life. Or maybe I have. I can't remember.

What kind of mess have I gotten into? How in the world am I going to get out of it?

And would somebody _please_ tell me how I even got myself into it?!

"Help," I call as loudly as I can, which isn't that loud since my throat is incredibly dry.

However, someone must have heard me because two people open a door, walk into the room and flick on a light switch. The light doesn't help my vision much since it's coming from only one bulb which is right above me. But, hey, at least it's better than the darkness.

One of the newcomers- the taller of the two- is dressed in a suit, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses. He has an impressive mustache which seems somehow familiar, but other than that, I doubt I've ever seen him before in my life. The other newcomer, who is only slightly shorter than the other one, is dressed in a camouflage shirt, a pair of camouflage pants, a camouflage helmet, army boots, and a gas mask.

I know him. He's...

Hunter.

"I'm so glad you finally woke up," the man with the mustache greets. "If you were asleep much longer, I might have had to cancel my business meeting. Of course, this is _much_ more important than that."

I blink rapidly. I take back what I thought about the light. At least the darkness wasn't so blinding. "How long have I been out?"

The mustache man smiles. "You've been out for about two hours, my dear."

"What knocked me out?"

He gestures to metallic balls stuck in each corner of the ceiling. "A very special gas came out of balls just like those."

A flicker of a memory comes back to me. "I remember gas choking me." I push at the memory harder. "You were there," I add, looking at Hunter. "You were the one who triggered the gas to come."

"Yes, that's right," the man with the mustache says. Then he turns to Hunter. "That reminds me- you still haven't given me the remote yet."

Hunter fumbles through his pockets for a moment before pulling out the remote. He hands it to the man.

Is it just me, or does it seem shinier than last time I saw it?

Before I can dwell on that, my memory rushes back to me. "You betrayed me!"

"I'm really sorry about that," Hunter says.

"And you," I add, turning to the man. "You're the crime lord, aren't you?

The man nods. "You've got me. Though, I prefer the term _business man._ "

"How could you be working for him, Hunter?" I demand, ignoring the man.

"I told you already," Hunter says. "If I don't, he'll hurt my mother."

"How does he even know who your mother is?"

Hunter looks me in the eye, or well, as much as he could between his gas mask and my goggles. "He's my uncle."

I gasp. What kind of family drama have I been thrust into?

"Remember when I told you my origin?" Hunter asks. "My uncle discovered my powers the same time I did- while he was teaching me how to play basketball."

"That's enough," Hunter's uncle scolds. "Now that she remembers everything, it'll be all the more fun to unmask her."

I push my head back. "No, you can't do that! I have constitutional rights!"

"I don't care," Hunter's uncle counters.

He reaches out to grab my mask. I twist my head away.

"Hunter, help me, please!" I scream.

Hunter does nothing.

"You're quite feisty," his uncle says. "But sadly, that won't help you."

He grabs onto my mask and rips it off, goggles and all. On its way off my head, my mask gets snagged on my messy bun, pulling most of my hair out of it.

When they see my true face, Hunter whispers, "No," and his uncle starts laughing this cold, raspy chuckle.

I glare at them defiantly. "What are you going to do with me now?"

"Track down your family, of course," Hunter's uncle answers.

"But why? I know I've stopped a few of your crimes, but was that so terrible that you have to take revenge on my family? Besides, you can't track them down simply by knowing what I look like." I hope. I hope. I hope.

Hunter's uncle shakes his head, like I've somehow disappointed him. "I'm not looking for revenge. What I want from you is your power, and I fear you won't work for me-"

"You're right about that!"

"Unless I hold your family's well-being as ransom, Miss O'Dell."

I gasp again. "How do you know my name? How could you do such a thing?" How did this happen?

"To answer your first question, I have my sources. To answer you second question, don't take it personally. It's just good business."

"You're no business man!" I cry. "You're a monster!"

Hunter's uncle shakes his head again. "Your opinion of me does not matter. What matters is that you are under my control. It isn't so bad really; all you'll have to do is occasionally help with a difficult heist or hunt someone down for me. Mostly, I'll let you continue your little superhero thing, but only if you stop my competitor's men- not mine, of course."

"No! I won't do it!"

"I'm sure you'll do it if your little sister's life was in danger. You know, the one in the wheelchair. I believe her name is Courtney."

"No!" Sickness coils around my gut. This can't be happening. _This can't be happening!_

"And now that I have both you _and_ Hunter, I might be able to expand my business. Think of all we'll be able to accomplish, my dear."

I _do_ think about it, and I _don't_ like it.

"I just hope no one else develops your amazing abilities. They might not be so easy to rope in."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant exactly what I said. You're a young girl who foolishly took on the responsibility of fighting crime. And I happened to have at hand a young boy who, at least in his own eyes, was very charming. You couldn't resist."

I stare at Hunter, too shocked even to glare.

"At first the plan was to keep you away from my men by distracting you with my competitor's men," Hunter's uncle continues. "But even then it was hard to keep you away from my men- you were too headstrong. So it was time for a new plan. Hunter had informed me of your powers and your origin, which are strikingly similar to Hunter's."

This time I _do_ glare.

"So I thought if you were so similar in those ways, maybe you would have the same weakness. The only way to find out was to lead you to my base of operations- a risky but necessary undertaking. While my competitor tried to capture you manually, I tried a scavenger hunt. It worked."

All this time, I was being manipulated, and I didn't even guess at it. I am such an _idiot_! And Hunter and his uncle are both monsters.

"So, shall we do this the easy way, and you'll do what I want," Hunter's uncle offers. "Or shall we do this the hard way and I'll _make_ you do what I want."

"I-I need some time to think about it."

Hunter's uncle shrugs. "There is only one end to this all, but it's always wise to think through all business deals before signing a contract. You may have fifteen minutes to think about it. However, I don't advise trying to escape. If I even see you _wiggle_ in a suspicious way, I will not hesitate to push this button." He shows me the remote.

It _does_ look shinier than last time. Hunter must have polished it.

Hunter and his uncle turn around and begin walking to the open door.

"Wait," I call.

They stop. Hunter's uncle turns around. "Yes?"

"How did you know that gas robs Hunter and me of our powers?"

"I'm not only a business man," he answers, "but also a visionary and a scientist with a fascination of gasses. I realized that if my nephew acquired superhuman powers, than someone else could as well. So, I did what anyone in my position would have done: I tested on my nephew."

With that, Hunter's uncle leaves the room the same way he came in, leaving the door open behind him. He takes a seat outside, near Hunter, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.

I suck in my breath. How could anyone be so horrible _and_ not realize it?

And how could someone go from being a person who plays basketball with his nephew to a crime lord who threatens his sister/sister-in-law to manipulate his nephew? But I already know the answer. As Mother once said, power corrupts people.

And now my power is going to corrupt me in a completely different way.

So, how can I escape?

I discreetly tug at my ropes. Hunter's right, the gas has completely stripped me of my powers. I stop tugging on them. I don't need any more of that cursed gas to come down on me.

Oh, how _did_ I get myself into this mess? Why did I have to drink that stupid tea? But then again, the tea isn't why I'm here. I'm here because I thought I could do something useful with my powers.

Well, that plan backfired. But why? I didn't do anything wrong. Well, maybe sneaking out of my bedroom at night was not the best idea. If only I had told my parents, but _no_ , I thought _I_ knew best.

Oh, I was wrong. Painfully wrong.

If only I hadn't let myself be led by pride. After all, pride comes before destruction. Those words are so true. I sure wish I had listened to them.

And of course it's Hunter's and his crazy wacko uncle's faults too.

Still, how many times have I gotten myself into trouble because of pride? Now that I think about it, even if I hadn't told my parents about my powers, I might still not be here. Hunter did _try_ to warn me about coming here, but I didn't listen. I thought he doubted my powers, which hurt my pride- and sealed my fate.

I've done this to myself.

Hunter and his uncle return, shutting the door behind them.

"Have you made your conscience right with this yet?" Hunter's uncle asks. Then, before I can answer, he says, "Good. Though, you'll soon discover that this side of the law is much more exciting than the other and so much more beneficial. Then it won't matter what your conscience feels. Soon, you'll learn to ignore it. And, you've made your decision whether you'll do this the easy way or the hard way, right?"

"I have come to a decision," I answer. "I will _never_ work for you, _ever_!"

Hunter's uncle shakes his head at me. "And I had such high hopes for you. It won't be quite as easy to manipulate you through your family as it was with Hunter- we share the same relations, after all. But, I'll have to deal with it. Although, I'm not at all happy with the inefficiency. I'll be sure to let Courtney know that."

Don't listen to him. He can't hurt Courtney. Dad won't let that happen.

Except, Dad doesn't have the use of half his limbs.

"I already told you, I will never work for you." I hope he doesn't call my bluff. If he does get Courtney, I'll have no choice. I can only hope he'll never get her.

"You'll be singing a different tune very soon, my dear." He reaches into his pocket for something. Probably a communicator of some sort to contact an army of thugs- to tell them to kidnap Courtney.

Just as his uncle puts his hand in his pocket, Hunter pulls something out of his own pocket. The same something that Hunter used to lock the door and cause gas to enter the room.

Hunter aims it at the gas machines and presses a series of buttons. Gas begins whizzing out.

"What are you doing, boy?!" Hunter's uncle exclaims. Then he starts searching his pockets with a new fervor. "Where is my gas mask?"

Hunter doesn't answer; instead he rushes over and rips apart the ropes that were holding down my arms. Than he hands me a scented handkerchief before ripping apart the rope binding my ankles.

The handkerchief helps, but the gas is still making me dizzy.

Hunter pulls me toward the door which he quickly opens. Then he pulls me through and shuts the door behind us, leaving his uncle to hack and cough in peace.

I take a deep breath of beautiful, fresh, well, musty air. "Why are you helping me?"

Hunter doesn't pause. Instead, he pulls me down a hallway. "It was never my plan to leave you with my uncle. You see, I've been trying to get out of this system for over a year, now. Then, out of the blue, you show up and my uncle has me distract you. Then he has me betray you, except, little does he know, I have a plan of my own."

He glances at me, his head hung a little guiltily. "I'm really sorry I had to put you through that at all, though." He clears his throat. "Well, anyway, when he told me his scheme, I knew I had finally found a way out- after all, my uncle was going to let me use his remote of power. So, I had a friend of mine construct a perfect copy of it from a photo. The plan was to give that one to my uncle when he asked for his remote back. I also used my pick-pocketing skills my uncle had taught me to relieve him of his gas mask and communicator earlier."

I can't help but grin. "The irony."

Hunter shrugs. "After that, all I had to do was wait for us all to be in a closed room together."

"That was very clever of you, and all," I say as we come to the end of the hallway. "But isn't that only a temporary solution? I mean, he knows who we are and to whom we're related-"

"Grab on," Hunter orders suddenly.

Startled, I grab onto his shoulders and he jumps up and grabs a lighting fixture on the ceiling.

A moment later, a guard walks down the hallway. As soon as he turns the corner, Hunter jumps down.

"He wasn't there before," I say.

"All the guards were absent during our search of the building. It was meant to lull you into a false sense of security. Once you were detained, they all returned to their positions, which are very strategically placed. My uncle is a very strategic man."

Great- just one more way I've been fooled. "So, do the guards know by now that we've escaped?"

"Probably not because, A., my uncle is locked in a secluded room; B., my uncle does not have a communicator on him; and C., my uncle is probably unconscious at the moment so he can't do anything about A. or B."

Suddenly, Hunter pulls me into an open closet. A guard passes by a moment later. As soon as he leaves, we walk out and continue down the hallway.

"That was close."

Hunter nods. "I'm so glad I have super senses."

"So, as long as we stay out of the guards' way, we'll be fine, for _now_ anyway. But what do we do _later_?"

"Well, the gas I sent into the questioning room has a nasty side effect of making you forget about what happened right before you breathed the gas. So, you and your family should be safe."

Relief loosens my breath. "That's good for me, I guess, but what about you and your mother?"

Hunter is silent for a moment before saying, "My uncle should be unconscious for a few hours and even when he does wake up, it will take him some time to come back to his senses. I'll use that time to grab my mother, grab my suitcases, and get out of town."

And now my heart is tightening. What was _in_ that gas?"So, you're leaving?"

He nods. "There's no other choice." Then, he pushes me under a table.

Another guard walks down the hallway. They seem to be going around in circles, always patrolling.

"Hey, Hunter," the guard greets, "how are things going with the prisoner."

"Very well. My uncle is only moments away from finally persuading her to join him."

The guard nods. "It'll be nice to have another superhuman on the team. But I'm really beginning to wonder what's giving you those abilities."

"You know I can't tell you, Dan. You have to be a level five to get that kind of information."

The guard sighs. "I know. Maybe one of these days I'll get out of my level three position."

Hunter shrugs one shoulder. "You won't get a promotion if the next guard catches you here loitering."

"Oh, yeah- thanks for reminding me." Dan quickly makes his exit.

I raise an eyebrow at Hunter, who shrugs.

"I've got another question," I say as Hunter and I climb down a flight of stairs. "Does you mom know about any of this?"

"Nope. I've tried to tell her about it once before, but she didn't believe me. She thinks I have a wild imagination." Hunter falls silent.

Suddenly, another guard walks over to the base of the stairs. He takes in my costume and his jaw drops. Then he quickly pulls out a communicator.

"The prisoner is escaping-" he yells into his communicator before Hunter knocks him out.

Then Hunter and I start running.

It feels so weird running without my superpowers. Having just been unconscious a moment ago isn't helping either. I know I'm holding Hunter back.

"Why didn't you notice him with your super senses?" I gasp.

"I was in the middle of a flashback."

I had better not get recaptured because of a flashback.

"At least he didn't use my name," Hunter offers optimistically. "If he had, the person tailing my mom would have taken her to a more secure area."

"Wait, your mom is being followed by a goon and she still doesn't think your uncle is a crime lord?"

Hunter pulls me down another hallway just as guards run into the one we were just in.

"It's not like that," Hunter whispers. "The stalker is really good. She probably doesn't even notice him."

"How are you planning on getting past him to get your mom?"

Hunter cocks his head at me. "I'm a superhuman, and he's just a tougher than average human. You do the math."

I nod.

"Now put this on." Hunter hands me my mask and goggles which were apparently stored in his pockets. "I think we might have company soon."

I awkwardly pull my mask and goggles on while still running. Then I stuff my hair back into the mask. "How come you didn't give me these earlier?"

"I didn't think we'd be caught earlier. Besides, I didn't want to hide your pretty face." He tweaks my nose.

I frown. Classic Hunter.

Four guards round the corner. They take one look at us and charge. At least none of them try to contact the guy tailing Hunter's mom.

Hunter also charges. They meet in the middle.

"Stay back," he calls back.

"No fair," I retort. "You get to have _all_ the fun."

Actually, he doesn't get all the fun. One of the guards breaks away from the fight with Hunter and charges at me.

I take a deep breath. Just because I don't have my powers doesn't mean I'm defenseless. After all, I've been practicing karate for almost eleven years.

The guard lunges at me and I dodge him. The guard falters for a moment before regaining his balance. Then I grab onto his arm and twist it into a lock. The guard tries to punch me in the face with his other fist. I duck, and he slams his fist into the wall. He growls at me. However, before he can retaliate, he slumps to the ground. Hunter is standing behind him.

"Now I've saved you, what, five times?"

I shake my head. "The times when we were working together don't count, since we both had each others' backs."

"Fine, then, I've rescued you twice."

"And I've rescued you once."

Hunter cocks his head at me. "When?"

"When I was just Charisa- I warned you about that gunman."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you didn't want my autograph."

What? Had that question been bugging him or something? Keeping him up at night, perhaps?

"Well, we'd better remove their communicators and put them somewhere where they can't tell anyone that I've gone rogue," Hunter says.

I nod and remove the communicators from everyone's pockets while Hunger drags them into a nearby janitor's closet. He locks them in.

"Come on, more guards will be here any moment."

"Oh. So when will I get my powers back?"

"The gas' side effects wear off after about twelve hours."

Great- I've got ten more hours of this weakness to go. How did I ever make it as a normal human?

"This is it," Hunter announces when we reach another staircase. "All we have to do is climb down those stairs, make it down one last hallway, and out the door. Then we're home free."

"Finally. I was starting to think we'd be running through these hallways forever."

"So here's the plan: you stay here while I distract Harry. When I say 'boy, it's a cold one out there,' you run outside."

I nod and Hunter leaves.

I'm almost free. I'm almost free, unless... unless this is another trick. What if this whole thing is just another one of Hunter's uncle's manipulations? Sure, Hunter's story is convincing, but is it true?

"Boy, it's a cold one out there," I hear Hunter say.

Do I go down there? Or do I run the opposite way and try to escape out of one of the windows?

"It is _so_ cold out there that it bears repeating," Hunter repeats slightly louder.

I suck in my breath and run downstairs. It's probably the stupidest thing I've ever done- and I've done some pretty stupid things this semester- but I'm doing it anyway. Sometimes you just got to take a leap of faith.

When Hunter sees me, he gestures for me to hurry. Harry, the door guard, has his back to me and is looking something up on the computer.

"Well, I don't see anything that says you can't leave now," Harry says as I open the door.

"Thanks, buddy," Hunter answers. "See you tomorrow."

Then Hunter rushes over to the door, slips through, and shuts it behind him. "Or not," he adds.

"Hunter," I begin, "tell me right now, am I really safe, or is this another one of your uncle's games?"

He turns to me. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, there is your history. And you were awfully nice to Harry."

Hunter starts speed walking, forcing me to follow him for an answer.

"Well?"

"Harry owes my uncle a debt- never mind for what- so he's as much a pawn in this as me. As for the rest of it, I'm sorry. I really am. I don't blame you for not trusting me- I wouldn't either. But what I told you is the truth. You and your family will be safe from my uncle, Charisa. I give you my word."

I want to believe him, but how can I be sure?

"Look, a while ago we made a deal," Hunter adds. "If one of us ever discovered the others' identity, we'd reveal our own identity. So, to prove that I am a man of my word, I'll tell you who I am; though, you probably already know. After all, no one else can be as awesome as me as me."

No it can't be. Hunter can't be-

"I'm Kyle Rivers, of course."

Oh, the irony.

~~~

"Hurry up," Hunter/Kyle calls, "My ride is right over here."

I try to keep up, but I'm too winded to do much of anything. Besides, so much is going through my mind.

"Quick, we don't have much time," he adds, climbing into a sleek, black car.

"And how did you come by this?" I ask.

"I kind of borrowed it from my uncle."

I shake my head at him.

"Hey, if he's going to teach me how to steal, he should be a bit more careful where he keeps his keys." Hunter pulls off his helmet and gas mask. Sure enough, he's Kyle.

"How old are you anyway?" I ask, taking off my own mask and goggles. I smooth out my hair.

"I turned fifteen August, why?"

"Aren't you a bit young to be driving?"

Kyle laughs. "The thing about having a criminal mastermind for an uncle is that he teaches you all the skills he thinks you'll need working for him- whether it's legal or not."

Good to know. "Where is your mom anyway?"

"She should be at that department store where we first meant."

Kyle revs up the engines and begins driving. I buckle up and grab onto the arm of my seat for dear life. If only I hadn't lost my regenerating health- it would be useful about now. I'm half tempted to put Hunter's helmet on. Dad would be so upset with me if he knew I was in the car with a non-licensed driver...

"What am I supposed to do about your uncle when you leave?" I ask.

"At our meeting place, nestled in between my suitcases, I have a binder. It contains all the incriminating evidence about my uncle I was able to obtain over a year of training under him and working for him. I'm entrusting it to you. Show it to your dad or something."

I nod. Then, a thought hits me. "If you gained your powers when you were thirteen and have been working for your uncle for so long, how come the superhero rumors are just now starting to surface?"

"I drank the tea late in my thirteenth year, and then, when my uncle and I discovered them, he began training me. He didn't have me do any real errands for him until after my fifteenth birthday, which as I have already mentioned, occurred last month."

I nod again. "Did your uncle take up crime before or after you acquired your powers?"

"Before. Before my dad died, he made my uncle promise to take care of his family if anything ever happened to him, and though this might come as a shock to you, my uncle actually loved his brother, and his brother's family- at one time. When my dad died, it not only broke his heart, it also put the responsibility of two more people's welfare on his shoulder. He took up crime partly to provide for us, and partly, I think, because he was upset. Over the years he acquired a gang and became quite powerful. When he learned about me, I became his most valuable tool- his wild card."

"I'm so sorry," I say, because I'm not sure exactly what else to say. "How old were you when your dad died?"

"Seven."

"I was eight when my mom died."

He glances at me for a moment before turning back to the road. "I guess that's one more thing we have in common. We both know what it's like to lose a parent."

We're both silent for a moment. Then Kyle announces, "We're here."

I look out the window. Sure enough, it's the super market we first met at.

"Here's the plan: when my mom comes out, get her into this car. I'll take care of the stalker."

"Got it..." I pull my hair into a bun and then pull my mask over it. Then I put back on my goggles.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm protecting my identity- there are cameras in that store, and other people in the parking lot. Besides, with my luck, the other crime lord is probably shopping here today."

Kyle shrugs. "Good point." He puts his gas mask and helmet back on.

"I think I see her," I announce, peering out the window.

Hunter takes one glance before jumping out of the car. "It's her."

I climb out of the car and run over to Kyle's mom. "Mrs. Rivers, you're in danger, you have to come with me."

Mrs. Rivers looks very startled. "What do you want with me?"

"It's okay, I'm a friend. Now please, come with me."

"No, stay away from me, or, I'll... I'll scream."

I sigh. I really don't want my identity disclose to another of Kyle's relations if I can help it. "Look, I'm one of Kyle's friends. He's in trouble."

"Then why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Wow, no wonder Uncle Rivers kept the fact that he was a criminal mastermind away from Mrs. Rivers so long- she is _way_ too gullible.

Suddenly, Hunter rushes past us to where a large, muscular man is standing, several yards away.

"What was that?" Mrs. Rivers asks.

"Come on, we need to hurry." I grab her hand and begin to walk her to the car.

"My car is over there, though," Mrs. Rivers says, turning around. That's when she sees Hunter knock out the man. She screams.

Hunter rushes over and undoes his gas mask before tossing it aside. "Mom, it's me, see?"

"Kyle!" His mother cries, pulling him into a hug. Then she pulls away, her eyes wide. "Wait, why did you hurt that poor man?"

"I'll explain in the car." He grabs his mask with one hand and her other hand with the other, and together we both pull her to Uncle River's car.

Mrs. Rivers points at another lot. "But my car is over there, though."

"Uncle Rivers has a remote that can make your car brake and lock down. It also has a tracker. His probably does too, but it will do for now."

Mrs. River looks all the more confused.

"Look, I'll explain later."

When we're all in the car, Kyle speeds away, toward our meeting place. No one says a word in all that time. Mrs. Rivers keeps opening her mouth like she wants to ask something, but always closes it again without asking the question.

Kyle parks outside our meeting place, jumps out and runs into the alley. I follow. Mrs. Rivers does the same, still clutching her bag of groceries.

I watch as Kyle pulls two suitcases and a folder out from underneath a canvas.

"Here's the evidence," he says, handing it to me.

I nod, trying to ignore his mother who is silently watching us.

"Well, I guess this is good-bye," he adds before stepping closer, pausing when he notices my mask, and then pulling me into an awkward hug. "Until we meet again."

"Do you think we will?" I breathe.

He steps back and grins that signature grin of his. "Come on, Ninja, we're two superhuman teenagers with practically the same powers and origin; we have the same enemy and inspiration. Plus, we make a great team- we'll meet again."

With that, Kyle picks up his two suitcases and he and his mother walk away. I watch them until they fade out of my sight. Then I, clutching the precious binder, start the long walk home, leaving the sleek car outside of the old meeting place, forgotten.

For the time being.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jes Drew began dreaming up this book near the beginning of her high school freshmen year. Now wrapping up her sophomore year, Jes is elated to finally be publishing her book. And this particular copy is a special revised anniversary edition. Jes lives with her mom, dad, younger sister, four (yes, _four_ ) younger brothers, and a German shepherd. She is working on Charisa's next adventure. And don't let this third person point of view fool you; Jes wrote this autobiography. You can contact her (me) at my blog:

http://pausefortales.blogspot.com/

Also Available (thankfully):

The Ninja and Hunter Series, book two: The Time I Saved a Damsel in Distress

The Ninja and Hunter Series, book three: The Time I Saved the World

The Howling Twenties Trilogy, book one: Wolf Claw

The Howling Twenties Trilogy, book two: Wolf Curse

The Howling Twenties Trilogy, book three: Wolf Cure

Kristian Clark and the Agency Trap, book one: The Bachelor Missions

Kristian Clark and the Agency Trap, book two: In the Rogue

The Castaways series, book one: Castaways

Coming soon (Lord willing):

The Castaways trilogy, book two: Fugitives

Kristian Clark and the American Agenda, book one: Agents Adam and Eve

Here's a sneak peak of the sequel:

" _Beep! Beep! Beep_ _!"_ shrieks my obnoxious alarm clock.

I roll over and turn it off. Why didn't I do that last night? After all, there's no reason to wake up at six on a Saturday morning.

I roll back over and try to go back to sleep. But instead of sleeping, I remember.

It feels like it was a lifetime ago, but in reality, it was only three weeks ago that I drank Mrs. Walters' tea. That I gained my superhuman powers. Then, only four days after that, I met Villain Hunter, the boy who shares most of my powers. The boy who is Kyle Rivers. The boy, who only last week, walked out of my life to escape his manipulative crime lord uncle. The crime lord who still walks free.

And I have in my possession a file full of documents that could convict him...

Now I need to hand over those papers to the police, but how can I without disclosing my identity? I mean, I know half of the police force since my dad is on it. And it's not like I can tell my parents about it either since I haven't exactly told them about my superhuman abilities- or my nocturnal adventures.

I do plan on telling them- I really do. I'm just waiting for the right time and place. After all, I can't just go up to them and say 'Dad, Mother, I have freakish powers and have been sneaking out of my bedroom window at night to beat up bad guys- oh, and during my nocturnal adventures I met another superhero who betrayed me to his gangster uncle and then rescued me. By the way, the uncle is still not behind bars.'

Yeah, that's not going to happen. Especially since I have a big Washington DC field trip coming up Monday.

The thought makes me restless. I get up and tip-toe to my dresser (Courtney, my younger step-sister, is a light sleeper). Then I open my underwear drawer and grab a key that I use to unlock my jewelry box.

There isn't much in my jewelry box, since I don't really wear jewelry (except for my birth mom's whistle which I have lying on the dresser waiting for me to put on when I get dressed). I push aside a bracelet with beads that spell my name and grab the post card that lies beneath it. I pull the post card out.

On the cover of the post card is a lovely garden. The back simply says this:

Dear Chrissie,

I just wanted you to know that my mom and I are safe and that we've found a temporary home. She's found a job and so have I. I'm also the popular new kid at my new school. They are currently saying that I'm a fugitive from the law. How ironic, right? I'm sorry I can't write more (tragic since I know you can't get enough of me) but, it's for the best.

_Love, K. R_ _._

It's the only form of communication that I've received from him since he left, which is, like he said, for the best. This postcard was dangerous enough- for all I know, Uncle Rivers may be reading my mail before me. Though he (hopefully) doesn't remember that I'm the Ninja, he probably _does_ remember that I am a 'friend' of Kyle's. By 'friend', I mean frenemy, though I think everyone else thinks we're a couple. Totally gross.

And seriously, Kyle, I can get enough of you. In fact, I've had it up to _here_ with you. The nerve.

Shaking my head, I tenderly place my post card back into my jewelry box and re-lock it. Then I crawl back to bed.

Now, how am I going to get Uncle Rivers behind bars without him or anyone else knowing? I mean, if Uncle Rivers found out I was the one who reported him, he might put two and two together and realize that I'm the Ninja. I can't take that chance. Besides, I _really_ don't want to have that talk with my parents yet.

But who would A., listen to me; B., not tell anyone that I had had the evidence; and C., not ask me any questions?

That leaves me with one possible person: Jake, Kyle's best friend. He's my age and really down to earth, so he'll probably listen to me. He doesn't know my parents so he won't be able to tell them (and hopefully he won't tell anyone else). Though, I don't know whether he'll ask questions or not. I guess that's a risk I have to take. After all, he's my only chance for this.

Should I call him now? I could use the phone book to find his number.

Nah, it's six in the morning. I'd sooner yell at someone who called me that early on a Saturday morning than listen to them.

With that off my chest, I finally fall back to sleep.

~~~

The moment I step into the kitchen, my entire family- my dad, step-mother, and step-sister- greet me by saying, "Happy Birthday, Chrissie."

Mother gives me a hug and a plate full of eggs and bacon.

Dad hugs me with his right arm. His left arm (and leg) still hasn't fully recovered from his car accident a few weeks ago.

Then I slide into my seat next to where Courtney has parked her wheelchair.

"Wow you're fifteen!" she cries.

"And boy do I feel old." I exaggeratedly stretch my arms. "Oh, my aching bones."

Courtney giggles.

"I have some bad news for you girls," Dad announces, after saying grace. "There haven't been any reports about the two 'superheroes' for a week now."

Courtney and I exchange a Look. We both know why: one superhero (Kyle Rivers/Villain Hunter) had to leave town to escape his aforementioned uncle while the other superhero (me) hasn't been out since then because of a guilty conscience and a fear of getting caught by Kyle's uncle. Again.

Mother gets up to grab the orange juice and then sits back down at her end of the table. With her blonde hair and pale skin, she looks so different from my birth mother, but I still love her. I just wish Mom were still alive.

Courtney takes after Mother, with blonde hair framing a pale, angelic face. Dad resembles me with black, curly hair and darker skin; though, he has a beard which I don't (thank goodness).

"Here's your present," Courtney says, handing me a neatly wrapped purple box with a silver ribbon on top.

"Thanks." I take it from her and shake it a little. "What could it be?"

"Oh, just open it."

I unwrap the gift, revealing a UPS cardboard box. "Ooh, nice box."

Courtney rolls her eyes. "Open the box."

I peel off the lid. Inside, surrounded by bubble wrap is a pair of glasses, a watch, and a key-chain of some sort.

"It's a spy gear set," Courtney explains. "Or at least toy spy gear- but it's really cool." She picks up the glasses. "These have mirrors so you can see behind you." She puts the glasses down and picks up the watch. "And this not only tells you the time and date, but it can also take pictures and record messages." Then she picks up the key-chain. "This one reminds me of a Swiss Army knife. It has a flashlight, a knife, a tiny pair of scissors, and most importantly, a nail file."

I hug my sister. "Thanks, these are so cool!"

Mother dabs her eyes with a handkerchief (she's an easy crier). "I can't believe you're fifteen already. And to think, Courtney will be thirteen in four months."

"Don't we have a present for her?" Dad asks, cutting her off from anymore talk about aging.

Mother nods and walks out of the room. She returns a moment later holding a cell phone.

"No way! No way!" My dream has been realized!

"We expect you to use it responsibly, Chrissie," Dad warns.

I nod without looking up from my precious new phone. "Of course I will."

"We already have our home phone number, my cell phone number, your mother's cell phone number, Olivia's cell phone number, and Nora's cell phone number programmed into speed dial," Dad adds.

"You know your dad," Mother says. "He couldn't help but play with it."

"Cell phone to cell phone are free and you have unlimited texting," Dad continues. "You have a hundred and fifty minutes for other calls."

"We'll pay for your bill for the next six months," Mother offers.

"But only if it's a sane amount," Dad adds.

I nod again as I inspect my phone more closely. It's not a smart phone like Olivia has, but that's fine with me because- hello! - I finally have a cell phone! "Thanks!"

"You're welcome, Chrissie."

I jump up and hug my parents and Courtney before running off to my room.

I quickly change into my oldest pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt that said 'I'm a winner.' Then I tug my birth mom's old whistle over my neck. Finally, I pull my long, thick black curls into a ponytail.

At last, I phone Olivia (I'd call Nora first, but I'd rather not go deaf yet).

After several rings, Olivia answers. "Hello?"

"Hi, Olivia, it's me, Charisa."

"But your caller ID just said Alabama call."

"I'm not using my home phone. I'm using my NEW CELL PHONE!"

"That's great! Oh, and happy birthday, Chrissie."

"Well, I've got to call Nora now. Bye."

"Bye."

I hang up and then call Nora.

"Hello?" Nora greets.

"Hi, it's me Charisa. Guess what- I got a cell phone!"

" _Eek_!"

I pull my phone away from my ear. One thing's for sure, Nora is much more excitable than Olivia. "I know, right?"

"Happy birthday, by the way. What's it like being fifteen?"

"You'll find out next month."

She huffs. "You're no fun."

"Maybe you can ask Olivia when she turns fifteen in three weeks."

"Don't rub it in," Nora says. "So, when's your big _quinceañero_ exactly?"

"Well, we were going to have it tonight, but Mother's parents couldn't make it up here until next weekend, so it's next Saturday."

"Okay, sorry I forgot. You know I'm terrible with dates. Well, I'll write it down somewhere so I don't have to keep asking you. Bye."

"Bye."

~~~

I log into my email account on the laptop Courtney and I share. We've both tried asking to get our own laptops, but Dad always said no. It's not that we're poor or anything, it's just that Dad thinks that it's wasteful to buy two of the same thing when one will do. Especially since that money could be put into the vacation savings account. We want to visit Europe this summer.

I scroll down the list of already answered emails. Hmm, nothing new. Before I can sign out; however, a new email pops up. It simply says K. R.

Wait, how did Kyle get my email address? I never gave it to him.

I open it and read the email.

I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other very soon.

P.S. This message will explode in thirty seconds.

As I reread the message for the tenth time, an Instagram of an explosion appears, covering the message. I bite back a smile as I sign out of my email account.

However, I keep thinking about it after I shut my laptop. What does that mean? Is he coming back? Is he in DC?

Well, I guess I'm about to find out.
Here's a sneak peak of A Week of Werewolves, Faeries, and Fancy Dresses by Nicki Chapelway (my sister):

Chapter One

I Collide with a Duck Pond

For me, normal died on Tuesday.

I'm still mourning it.

Dead leaves crunch under my feet as I force my legs to move faster. I trip over a jutting root, but manage to catch myself just before I face-plant. My heart beats painfully in my chest and my lungs burn. Sweat trickles into my eyes, causing them to sting and my vision to blur.

I raise a shaking hand to swipe at them, trying to relieve the pain. A branch slaps across my cheek, but I don't let it slow me down. I'm already bleeding in several areas on my neck, face, arms, and legs- what are a few more cuts and bruises?

I hurtle over a fallen tree before risking a quick glance over my shoulder. I hope I won't trip over any roots or overgrown weeds while my eyes are otherwise occupied.

I scan the deceptively picturesque forest- a perfect blend of green foliage and rich brown tree trunks- for the creature that's trying to eat me.

I say creature because I'm not entirely sure what it is. I've never seen anything like it before. It's huge, at least three hundred pounds, and covered in matted brown fur with beady eyes and a giant slobbering snout full of wicked, sharp teeth. It kind of looks like a cross between a bear and a boar. I just call it the beast.

The beast has been chasing me since I wandered past its cave when the portal first deposited me here. It feels like it's been hours since I was unceremoniously dumped in this world without so much as a by-your-leave, but it probably hasn't even been forty-five minutes.

I wouldn't still be alive if it had been hours.

I mean, I've been here only forty-five minutes and already I've spent the majority of that time running for my life.

I don't see the beast behind me. I gasp in a ragged breath, filling my air-starved lungs. I stumble to a stop and lean into a nearby tree. I rest my cheek against the rough bark and close my eyes with a groan.

This is officially the worst.

My dry tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I reach for my backpack before I remember that I don't have it. Because of course the portal that brought me to this world had to arrive the one time I didn't have my backpack on me.

It's for instances just as this, that I packed it in the first place.

But no. The stupid, rude portal had to arrive and whisk me off to this world- Amar, or so the only person I actually met here called it- while I was washing my hands and did not have my backpack on me.

As a howl echoes through the forest, I straighten and search the forest around me. My old friend beast is still on the prowl.

I clutch at my chest as if the mere presence of my hand will keep my heart from forcing its way past my rib-cage.

How much more running can I handle? My spaghetti noodle-esque legs inform me not much, and my traitorous stomach informs me that it plans to mutiny if I don't get food into it soon.

My whole body trembles, but whether from fear or exhaustion, I have no idea.

I could use a nap.

An all-you-can-eat buffet would also be nice.

I'm hungry, thirsty, tired, scared witless, and lost, and I would really like to avoid becoming lunch on top of that. I force myself to take a calming breath as I take in the thick green foliage and majestic trees that surround me, reaching for the heavens.

I don't recognize anything. Of course, I'm not expecting to. I've only been to Amar four times (this being the fourth), and all my other stops here have brought me to different places: a hill near a small village on Tuesday; I didn't see where I was on Wednesday because of a torrential downpour; on Thursday I landed in the middle of a large body of water, a lake or a sea or something like that (I got almost as drenched then as I had on Wednesday). That leaves me with today, Friday, in which I am chased by an ugly beast through a dense forest.

Still the unfamiliar landscape feels daunting. I have no idea which way to go, and if I just pick a random path I might end up coming across beast's relatives on their way to a family dinner or... something even worse. But I can't stay here. Beast will just have to follow my scent (eau de sweaty girl), and BAM! Free lunch.

"You know, now would be a really good time for you to appear, you stupid portal!" I holler into the still forest. Several birds in a nearby tree startle and fly off.

I bite my lip and wrap my arms around myself. I hope I didn't just draw the attention of something bigger and hungrier than the beast.

But seriously. This doesn't happen. At least it's not supposed to happen. Unsuspecting, teenage girls should not have to worry about getting dragged off to a fantasy world that's filled with monsters that want to eat her! They should have to worry about where they last misplaced their Geometry textbook.

Suddenly the temperature drops. I shiver and rub the goosebumps forming on my arm. A wide smile breaks out across my face. Well it's about time! My ears pop and everything around me is washed in a blue light. There is a snapping, tearing sound and the area in front of me opens to a blue swirling vortex.

The portal pulls me in with a gust of wind. Everything else around me remains still as if the portal wasn't even there. For some reason it only ever affects me and anything I might be touching.

I wouldn't be able to choose not to go through the portal, even if I don't want to (which is always the case when it appears while I'm still at earth) the suction pulling me in is too strong.

The portals seem to take me to only two places- home and Amar (at least I'm assuming this is all Amar). As far as I can tell, the portal will appear, take me to Amar, leave me here for a little while, and then return to take me home.

I know- weird. I still have no idea why this is happening to me, but I'm sure there's a very reasonable explanation for it (one that doesn't involve me going crazy, that is). I'm still just trying to get over the shock of there being another world/dimension/whatever this is, other than earth. Or why it decided to pick on me- me\- of all people to pick on.

I'm temporarily blinded by a bright flash of bluish light as I stumble through the portal. I cross my fingers, hoping that the portal drops me off somewhere ideal (like a hot tub), and not somewhere unideal (Wednesday the portal deposited me on top of my neighbor's birdbath and I had to pay for the damages I caused when I landed on it).

My ears pop again and the end of the portal opens up in front of me revealing black asphalt and the bright blur of speeding cars. Before I even have a chance to consider the odds of surviving after being dumped in the middle of a busy intersection, the portal spews me out with a mighty gust of wind.

I have enough time to think, I am so roadkill, before I hear honking. I look up to see a speeding truck bearing down on me.

The driver slams his brakes and I dive out of the way- right into a duck pond on the side of the road.

Have you ever fallen into a duck pond before? If the answer is no. Then good for you. Because let me tell you; duck ponds are disgusting.

I hit the duck pond with a splash, startling several ducks and geese (I guess they don't understand that this is a duck pond) who quack (and honk) angrily before flying off. The slimy, overly warm water envelopes me and I slip under the surface, pulled down by the weight of my clothes. However, fortunately for me, I'm an excellent swimmer. I kick upward, ignoring the chunks of stuff (for lack of a better word) I see floating around me.

I surface with a gasp and shove several soggy tendrils of hair that have escaped from my braid out of my face. I look around, expecting to find some concerned person offering me their hand to help pull me out of the water, but the driver isn't there. He must have driven on unconcerned.

Jerk.

I swim the short distance to the edge of the pond and drag myself out. I collapse on the grassy bank and gasp for breath.

I hear a honk and glance up to see a goose sitting a little to my right glaring at me with angry, beady little eyes. The goose opens its beak and hisses at me.

"Oh, shoo," I tell the goose grumpily. I'm not in the mood to be bullied by a goose now on top of everything else. "And if you bite me, I'm warning you, I'd be inclined to bite you back." I wave my arm toward him and the goose, like the coward he is, flies off.

After that, I drag myself to my feet. I look down at my dripping self, then I glance back at the murky duck pond. I shudder. I don't even want to think about what I just submerged my whole body in.

I turn to see a six-year-old kid sitting in a car stopped at a red light, staring at me, mouth agape.

"What are you looking at?" I ask sharply. I'm not normally this irritable, but given the day I'm having, I think I've earned myself some slack.

The little boy swallows hard and shakes his head. "N-nothing, Mrs. Swamp monster, ma'am."

Swamp monster? You, sir, are mistaken. This is a duck pond, not a swamp. There's a difference.

"Yeah, duck ponds are more disgusting," I mutter to myself as I look down at my clothes. My jeans and tee-shirt are covered in grime and- ew, is that a wrapper? My sneakers are soggy and probably completely destroyed inside and out, not that I plan on ever wearing them again after what they've been through.

I inspect the cuts on my arms I got from running through the forest. The water has washed away the blood leaving nothing but tiny, sore scrapes. I don't even want to consider how many bacteria are swarming those cuts right now. When I get home I'm scrubbing my skin with disinfectant.

Which leaves me with the obvious question of, where is my home? I recognize the duck pond. I've passed it plenty of times on my way home. I just never thought I'd actually swim in it.

I turn in the direction of our road and start walking.

I get quite a few odd looks, but I ignore them. I only hope that none of the people who go to my school see me. I wonder what "clever" insults they would come up with. Chelsea the quack? The chick who swims with chicks (when in fact it would be ducklings I was swimming with- and maybe a few goslings)?

I wrap my arms around myself, duck my head, and quicken my pace. Maybe no one will recognize me. I mean, it's not like I really look like myself right now, sopping wet and covered in duck slime as I am.

Finally, I make it to our road. I start to turn down it, but I only make it two steps before I think better of it. It was bad enough to have to walk down the intersection looking like this, but the street I live on too? I'd never live it down.

I veer off course and plunge into the strip of woods that is behind every house on our block.

Our house is the fourth down so I make it to it relatively quickly. The woods are much easier to navigate than the forest in Amar- much less dense and far fewer trees. Still, I'm too tired to bother avoiding the branches and they tear into my clothes. Oh well, they were ruined anyway.

I step out of the woods into my backyard, trying to dust leaves off my soggy shirt. I hear a bark and glance up to see that Hercules, our little white, fluffy guard dog, is out. I smile. Finally a stroke of good luck. This means that the backdoor will be unlocked.

I hurry onto the deck. Hercules jumps around me excitedly sniffing my legs.

"Yes, Hercules, I'm happy to see you too," I say patting his head.

Hercules sniffs one exceptionally foul looking stain on my pants leg and sneezes. He hurries off to go stand guard near the side of our house and keep watch over the neighborhood.

I turn and reach for the doorknob, but I pause as I try to figure out what I should say if anyone sees me looking like this.

The duck pond would be pretty hard to explain away. Not to mention, I have no idea where I should say I've been for the past fifty minutes.

I just really need to get inside without anyone noticing me. I can throw away the clothes so Mom doesn't see them when she does the laundry. She might wonder what happened to this outfit, but it's better than her wondering where the tears and slime came from.

My head hurts like it does whenever I try to think of what to do about my predicament.

I fall back on the same question that has bothered me since I started my daily visits to Amar. Should I tell my parents? Part of me wants to because, hey, they're my parents. But I have no idea how telling them will help anything. It's not like they'll know what to do about my predicament any more than I do. It'll just make them worry.

That is, of course, assuming they even believe me. Which is unlikely. I'll probably end up having to visit a psychologist, or a head doctor, or whatever.

Mom and Dad will assume that my story of random transportation to a mysterious world is nothing more than a lame excuse to cover up something far worse that I'm up to. They're already suspicious, what with me acting so strange thanks to my trips to Amar. The last thing I need is for them to ground me when I'm going to need all my resources to help me figure out what's happening and why.

My head pounds worse. I just want to go to sleep. So I can wake up to the realization that I've been dreaming this whole time. But first I have to get inside.

Which brings me back to the issue of sneaking into the house and upstairs to my room, unnoticed. I consider the possibilities of being spotted. Dad is at work and my twin brother Clint will be holed up in his room playing video games. That leaves Mom, who I hope is in the laundry room washing another soiled outfit and not in the kitchen preparing dinner.

I slip off my sneakers so they won't slosh water on the floor. My clothes are mostly dry now thanks to my little walk.

I open the door and peek in. I freeze when I see Mom standing in front of the stove. Oh, crud. She's in the kitchen! What should I do now?

Well, there is nothing to it. I have to get inside and to my room so I can clean up. Mom hasn't spotted me yet, she has her back to me. If I'm quiet I might still be able to sneak past.

As silently as I can, I step into the kitchen and shut the door softly behind me. I tiptoe across the floorboards, stepping gingerly. Alas, I don't make it more than five steps before I mistakenly put my weight on a squeaky floorboard.

"Chelsea, is that you?" Mom asks.

I glare down at the floor. Traitor. "Yes, Mom?"

"Can you get the tomato sauce out of the pantry?" Mom turns to point with her spoon, but comes to a halt when she sees me. "Chelsea Jean Welling, what in the world happened to you?!"

I wince and try to think of anything I can say that could possibly explain my appearance. I get nothing. "I, um, fell into a duck pond, the one just off the street, um, accidentally," I say at last. It isn't a lie. Technically.

"What about the tears in your clothes?" Mom asks crossing her arms. She raises an eyebrow to let me know that she isn't buying my explanation.

"Um, I was embarrassed because I was dripping duck pond slime so I walked through the woods instead of on the sidewalk, and I guess I wasn't being careful." Also not technically a lie.

"Chelsea, there are ticks in the woods!" Mom cries aghast.

I muster a weak smile. I wonder if there are ticks in Amar. "I'm wearing long pants, so they shouldn't have been able to get on me."

Mom shakes her head. She regards me for a long moment before her expression softens. "Chelsea, is there anything you want to tell me, sweetheart?"

I feel a pang of guilt, but shake my head. I've already determined that Mom and Dad won't believe me, there's no use second guessing myself.

Mom sighs and turns back to the food, obviously disappointed. "You should go get cleaned up then."

With those words, I'm free to go. I dart for the stairs before Mom can think up more questions to ask. I take the stairs two at a time, but all the while my mind is reeling.

What am I going to do? I can't keep going to Amar. Sooner or later, I could die. I've already come closer to death today than I would care to admit. What if next time I die there? Then no one will ever know what happened to me.

Or what if I end up stranded in Amar? What if one day, the portal never returns? I feel like I'm about to be sick. I lurch into my bedroom and slam the door shut. I lean shakily against it.

I struggle to regain control of my breathing.

And what if I'm not even going to Amar at all? What if I'm just going crazy? What if, instead of going to Amar, I'm actually wandering around the neighborhood like a mentally deranged person.

I'm not sure which would be worse. Going crazy or going to Amar.

I stand there for a good minute trying to figure this out, before my need to wash the duck pond slime off my skin overcomes my desire to mope and brood. I push myself away from the door and go into my bathroom.

After disinfecting my scratches and putting band-aids on the exceptionally bad ones, I get in the shower. I take a far longer shower than I think I've ever taken before, but it's totally necessary. I mean, hello? Duck pond.

When I'm done showering, I change into a fresh pair of clothes. I leave my old ones in a wet heap on the bathroom floor. As I turn to leave, my reflection in the bathroom mirror catches my eye. I turn and study myself.

I look... normal. Exactly the same as I've always looked. Somehow that doesn't seem right. I should look different. Nobody would ever guess that this slightly taller than average girl with freckles, hazel eyes, and damp honey brown curls spends her afternoons trapped in Amar.

I turn away with a shake of my head. Life is just too weird for words.

By now, I'm more refreshed. I decide against a nap, and instead head downstairs to help Mom finish making dinner. She doesn't mention what happened earlier, but I know she's waiting to tell Dad when he gets home from work.

Just as soon as dinner is ready, Dad pulls into the driveway. Punctual as always.

I call my twin brother Clint to the table and we all settle down for dinner. It's a silent affair. I don't want to draw any undue attention to myself, and Clint doesn't even look like he's fully awake. He stares at his plate with droopy eyes and pushes the food around on his plate. How late did he stay up playing video games last night? My silly brother is trying to cram as much video game time as he can into the last couple weeks of summer vacation. Mom and Dad try making small talk about how their days went, but even that is strained.

Clint excuses himself early and disappears back to his room. Then after thanking us womenfolk for the delicious dinner, Dad retires to the living room sofa to "watch" TV. More likely he'll be taking a nap. This leaves Mom and me to clean the kitchen.

When we finish cleaning the kitchen, I head for the foyer. "I'm taking Hercules out for a walk," I say. I pull on my combat boots since my sneakers have been totaled and grab Hercules's leash.

"Take care," Mom says as she heads into the living room. Probably to wake Dad and tell him about what happened earlier today.

Rolling my eyes, I exit the front door. That's not a conversation I want to stick around for. I start down the sidewalk dragging Hercules- who'd stopped to examine some flowers- with me.

The August air reinvigorates me. I smile as I stroll along enjoying the beautiful summer day. It won't be too long before fall sets in, and then winter, so I'm determined to enjoy the beautiful weather while it lasts.

For some reason at the thought of summer ending, my mind turns to the cookouts that will be ending with summer.

We have them every Saturday in the summer. My dad and his two buddies, Edward Princeton and Charles Moncrief, get together with their families and have a cookout at our house.

The dads go off and grill burgers, while they reminisce the good old days. Once Clint dared me to eavesdrop on their conversation and I swear they were talking about the pros and cons of wearing armor while wielding a short sword.

Our moms get together and as they prepare the rest of the food, they talk about mom things. Like how cute we were when we were three, etc., etc.

Clint and I usually hang out with Bobby Princeton and Easton Moncrief. We play board games or something equally trivial until it's time for the food to be served then we figure out some way to pass the time until their parents decide to leave.

We used to be the best of friends. We're about the same age (Easton is four months older than Clint and I, and Bobby is three months younger), and we've known each other since we were babies. Our childhood was spent playing with each other. We were practically inseparable.

But when we started middle school we drifted apart. We made friends with other people and started spending time with them instead of each other. Even Clint and I are not as close as we once were. Bobby, who was never good at making friends, is probably the only remaining member of our little clique. She is generally the one to keep things from getting too awkward when we are all together, especially with Easton.

It's not like I don't still consider Easton a friend, because I do, even if it's only for old time's sake. It's just that we don't really know each other that well anymore. We only see each other at the cookouts, and occasionally we wave at each other at school. When we talk, unless we're reminiscing our childhood, we don't actually have much to say to each other.

I look up the street, feeling nostalgic over what was once a close friendship. I spot Easton's house which is about five houses down from mine. Bobby's house is across the street from his.

I consider stopping by to see Bobby. I could tell her about my trips to Amar. She'd probably believe me. Bobby has always been very open minded. She could help me figure out what's going on. You know what they say, two heads are better than one.

My thought process is interrupted when Hercules suddenly stops walking and yanks against the leash, causing it to dig into the palm of my hand. I glance over my shoulder to see that Hercules has latched onto one of our neighbor's prized petunias and is now happily chomping away.

"Hercules," I hiss, glancing up at our neighbor's house. Nobody has noticed... yet. "Drop that flower."

Hercules doesn't listen to me. He continues gnawing on the petunia.

"Really, dog? I am not in the mood?" I kneel next to him, and dig my fingers into his slobbery little mouth. I try to pry his jaw apart. For such a little dog, he has some tremendous jaw strength and his sharp little teeth cut into my fingers.

"Hey, Chelsea, do you need a hand with that?"

I startle at the proximity of the voice, and glance over my shoulder at the tall, brown haired boy standing behind me. Jeez, was Easton somehow summoned by my thoughts?

I shake that notion out of my head. Of course he wasn't. I don't know why I'm so surprised to see him. He lives on this street too.

As soon as Hercules hears Easton, he lets go of the flower and starts jumping around Easton's legs like a happy kangaroo, which is his customary way of greeting people (I just hope a burglar never chooses to rob our house).

"Hi, Easton," I say straightening. I wipe my slobbery hands on my jeans. Yuck, Hercules is so dead when we get home.

"Bark!" Hercules- well- barks. He stands on his hind legs and dances in front of Easton trying to get attention.

Easton stoops to scratch behind his ears. "Hello there, Hercules, how are you this fine evening?"

"Bark!" Hercules barks again.

Easton looks up at me and smiles, but he looks tired. His pants are ripped and he has scratches all over his face. In fact, he looks a lot like I did earlier when I came back from my little adventure in Amar- minus the duck pond slime, of course. This gives me a pause. What if I'm not the only person going to Amar? What if Easton is going there too?

Probably not. There are many reasonable explanations for why Easton looks like this. Ones that do not involve unexplained trips to another world. He was probably practicing soccer in the park when some bully threw his ball into the woods and he had to retrieve it. Then again, he's dressed in his usual button down shirt and jeans, not a soccer jersey. And he doesn't have his ball.

"Uh, Chelsea, are you feeling all right?" Easton pushes himself to his feet and with a start I realize that I've been staring at him this entire time. I feel a blush travel up my neck.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering..." I trail off. Should I really tell him? He'll probably think I'm crazy. But what if he goes to Amar, too? I need to know. Besides, we've known each other since we were babies, that's got to count for something, right?

"Yes?" Easton looks at me expectantly.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Easton nods and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Sure. Ask away."

I pause considering how to word my question. Before I can come up with a non-crazy-sounding way to ask Easton if he's been teleported to a magical world recently, a portal opens up in front of me and sucks us both into the realm of Amar.

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