I spotted Superboy in the old hotel's giant kitchen, swearing at a cake. "Dammit!" He was sliding one finger over the round blue surface, pushing a line of pink icing. He formed the pink into an H, an A, a D— "Dammit!"
I solidified at his side and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Yipes!" Kon jumped, and the pink icing smeared. "Suzie, you shouldn't sneak up on people!"
"Sorry—did I scare you?"
"No! I wasn't scared." He drew himself up and stuck out his chin, with its six whiskers. "But you still shouldn't startle people when they're doing...delicate work."
"Ooh, what work are you doing?"
Kon's eyes darted around the room before he whispered, "Cassie and I, we figured out today's Robin's birthday."
"It is?" I asked. Though I really wanted to ask: What's a birthday? And what did that have to do with this cake? But it sounded like a special day for Robin, so that made me happy.
"See, Robin told us he can't stay late tonight because he has to go to two parties," Kon explained. "Two separate sets of people giving parties for him on the same day. It's not a holiday, not graduation time. So we figured it has to be his birthday, and one party's with his family, and one party's with, you know, the Batman."
"The Batman throws parties?"
"Okay, so we haven't figured out everything!" Kon snapped. "But it's gotta be Robin's birthday. Cassie and I are gonna surprise him with this cake."
"Ooh, I get it!" I said, and I almost did. "So why does the top say, HABWELL SOON?"
"'Cause we only figured out the birthday stuff this morning," Kon grumbled. "And a GET WELL SOON cake was all the bakery had left…for the money we had."
"For the money I had, mostly," said Cassie, coming in from the dining room. "Robin's in the dining hall, working on his laptop. He can't hear."
"Good," said Kon, still keeping his voice down. "I'm nearly done."
"And I have a candle." Cassie held up a thick pink cylinder of wax. I could see waves of scent rising off it.
Kon's nose wrinkled. "Cinnamon and vanilla? What kind of birthday candle is that?"
Cassie put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin. "Better than the invisible kind that you picked up in town, Kon."
"Good point." Kon plopped the candle in the middle of the cake. "Robin's a spicy sort of guy, after all. Now I'll finish rewriting the icing to say HAPPY BIR—Dammit!"
Cassie peered at the pink marks and raised her eyebrows. "You're pushing the icing around with your fingers?"
"I'm using my tactile telekinesis, so I'm barely touching the—Dammit!" Now there was a smear of pink across the whole top.
"I thought your TTK didn't work on liquids," said Cassie.
"Icing's supposed to be solid. Dammit!"
"Look, Kon. I know you'd get this eventually, but we kind of have a deadline. Just smoosh the pink into a big R."
"Okay, I can do that." And he did. It took three minutes, and four more Dammits, but at last the cake had a big R with pointy ends that looked close enough to the one that Robin wore on his chest.
"Phew!" said Kon. "When it's your birthday, Cassie, remind me to get someone else to decorate your cake."
Cassie frowned. "My birthday was last month."
"Hey, it's the thought that counts." Kon picked up the platter and marched toward the kitchen door.
"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Cassie.
•••
Cassie whisked Robin's computer out from under his fingers and set it on the far corner of the table.
"Hey! I was almost done." Robin got up to go after his computer.
"You got more important stuff to do now!" yelled Kon, swooping in with the cake. He set it down on the table in front of Robin, the candle burning and sending off plumes of cinnamon, vanilla, and paraffin. "Happy birthday!"
"Happy birthday!" said Cassie.
"Happy birthday!" I said, since that seemed to be the thing to say.
Robin frowned. "It's not my birthday."
"Aw, you're just peeved that we figured out your secret," said Kon. And he proudly explained again about the two parties. "How's that for deduction, Mr. 'Trained by the World's Greatest Detective'?"
"It's not my birthday," Robin said again.
"We know you have to keep some secrets for the Batman," said Cassie, putting her hand on Robin's shoulder. "We just want to help you celebrate."
"I didn't ask for your help on anything." Robin shrugged Cassie's hand off.
She started to frown, hard. Robin tried to move past her, and she wouldn't budge. "Stick around," she told him.
"I have work to do," Robin growled back.
"Yo, Suzie," Kon whispered. "There's some rope in the closet by the locker rooms. Can you bring it to me? It's, um, for Robin."
I still hadn't figured out birthdays, but as long as the rope was for Robin, I flowed over to the dark little room and floated back with the coil. When I got back, the candle on the cake had burned down halfway, and all three of my friends were speaking loudly, even Robin.
"Just admit it and have fun!" shouted Kon.
Robin tried to past him to get to his computer. "You don't underst—"
"No, you don't understand!" Cassie snapped, blocking Robin's way. "We're your friends, and we're having a party for you."
"I have secrets to guard—"
"I have a secret identity, too, but I don't use it on my friends!"
I solidified next to Kon and pushed the rope into his hand.
"Yipes! Oh, thanks, Suzie. Now watch my TTK in action." Kon flicked the coil loose. In three seconds the cord coiled around Robin's chest, pinning his elbows against his sides.
"Hey!" Robin yelled. "You're—you're not letting me breathe."
"If you can talk, you can breathe," Cassie pointed out, knotting the two ends of the rope together. "You just want to expand your chest so you can wriggle out later."
"Is this a birthday game?" I asked.
"No!" said Robin.
"This is only for very special parties," said Cassie. "When the birthday boy is being a jerk." She pushed Robin back toward the cake.
"I'm not being a jerk," he said.
"So you are the birthday boy?" said Cassie.
"No!"
Kon shoved Robin down in his chair and slid the cake in front of him. "We're doing this for you, dammit! Now blow out your candle."
Robin clamped his mouth shut.
"Blow out the candle!"
I hate seeing my friends angry, so I misted myself and smothered the candle.
"Was that so hard?" asked Cassie. She pulled the candle out and licked off the frosting before setting it on a napkin.
"That wasn't me," Robin grumbled, teeth clenched. "I'm still not celebrating my birthday."
"But Superboy and Wonder Girl brought you this cake!" I told him, solidifying again. "Cassie brought the candle, and Kon made the R."
"I don't care," said Robin. He couldn't even bend his arms, but he wriggled his shoulder out from under Kon's glove.
"You're gonna have some of the cake." Kon grabbed the back of Robin's head and turned him toward the cake.
"No! Stop being so immature!"
"Yeah? How's this for immature?" Kon shoved Robin's face down into the cake until the blue frosting was up to his ears. "Happy birthday, pal!"
"Omigod!" said Cassie, and then she burst out laughing.
This all seemed to be part of the birthday party, so I laughed, too.
"He was being a jerk," said Kon.
"Yeah, but he still needs to breathe."
"Oh. yeah." Kon pulled Robin's head back up. There was pink and blue and yellow cake crumbs all over his face, and in his hair, and on his collar.
"Omigod!" Cassie repeated. "That's hilarious!"
"I can't see," muttered Robin. "There's crud all over my visor."
"What's that, Robbie?" joked Kon. "You say you want us to take off your mask?"
Robin struggled with the rope. I could see heat rising from his scalp.
"Guys!" I said. "Robin looks, well...angry."
"Oh, chill out." Cassie licked one little finger and wiped the frosting off Robin's eyeholes. "Better?"
Robin didn't answer, but he didn't complain anymore.
"Cissie will never believe this," said Cassie. "I should get my camera."
"I'll come help you load it," said Kon. "You won't go anywhere, will you, bat-boy?"
Robin still didn't answer.
Kon and Cassie rushed out of the room, her saying, "I can work my own camera."
"Then how come your pictures never come out?" Their voices disappeared toward the bedrooms they had chosen upstairs.
Robin went back to wriggling inside the rope. I stayed with him, wondering when the birthday party would start to be fun.
•••
The front door slammed, and Bart came in, yelling: "Sorry I'm late! Max kept me home to finish all my homework 'cause he didn't think I'd remember to do it here just 'cause I didn't remember last week, but I finally did it, and I brought the new version of Tornado Racers to play—ooh, cake! Robin, can you pass me a piece?"
Robin frowned through the blue frosting. "Bart, I'm tied up."
Bart sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, I get it! Robin's always busy, busy, busy! Well, you can eat your whole cake yourself. I bet it's all sour anyway." And he zipped out to the Playzone in the rec room.
Robin shook his head. For a second he may have smiled. Then he sighed and looked at his computer on the corner of the table. He started to squirm inside the rope again, and there was a loud knock at the front door.
I wasn't sure what that knock meant since nothing had ever knocked on our door before. Robin called out, "Don't answer tha—"
"I got it!" Bart shouted, zipping through the dining room to the front hall.
In another few seconds, we could hear him shout, "Oh, wow! You're Nightwing, right?"
"Aww, pusbucket," muttered Robin. He wriggled down out of his chair and ducked under the tablecloth. Since he was hiding, I dissipated into a thin mist as well.
"Nice motorcycle!" Bart was saying. "How fast does it go? We could race, hahaha! Robin always talks about you, and so does Wall—oops, I mean the Flash. Say, is there a Titans emergency? 'Cause I used to be a Titan, you know. I still have my communicator—somewhere."
A deeper, calmer voice said something I couldn't hear.
"Sure, he's right here in the—huh?" Bart appeared in the big archway at the front of the dining hall, mouth agape. "Well, Robin was right here."
Behind him came a young man dressed in black with a stripe of blue across his chest and shoulders. On his face he wore a jagged black mask and an amused smile. He scanned the room. "I bet Robin just ducked out for a sec," he said.
"Yeah, he's busy busy busy!" Bart said. "Ha! But he left some of his cake! Blue's my—mmph, mmph—favorite flavor!"
"Yeah, I can see that," said the man. "I'll just wait in here. You can go back to your, um, work."
"Huh? Oh, sure! Nice to meet you, Mr. Nightwing!" And Bart dashed out.
Nightwing walked slowly around the table to the chair beside the smashed cake. In one fluid motion he lifted the edge of the tablecloth and squatted down. "Hey there. Blue's my color, not yours."
"Hi. We were just fooling around," said Robin.
"Uh-huh. I came by to give you a present. Do I need to think about knocking any heads together?"
"No!" said Robin. "We were just. . . I've got to. . . This is Young Justice business."
"Okay, I hear you. But you just let me know."
"I will. Thanks."
Nightwing waggled a small plastic bag in his free hand. "I got you a couple of CDs. One by Great Frog, and one you might actually like listening to."
"Thanks. I'll take them home tonight."
"You going by the cave?"
"Yep. And then I'll have dinner with my folks."
"Good. Tell Alfred I said hi."
"I will," Robin promised.
Nightwing pursed his lips. "I bet you'll wait until the big guy's in the room and then say, 'Dick says hi,' so he thinks I included him, too."
Robin shrugged. "And I bet you won't tell me not to do that."
The young man smiled—a wide white grin. "Happy birthday, bro."
So it is Robin's birthday! But why didn't he tell us?
Nightwing had dropped the tablecloth and stood up. Suddenly he flipped back one corner of the cloth and crouched again. He pulled a little blade out of his boot and cut most of the way through the rope at Robin's elbow. "Being in groups is fun, but it's not always easy. Do what you gotta do for the big guy, but don't be afraid to ask for help, okay?"
"Okay, thanks," said Robin. "I know you'll be there."
"I wasn't talking about asking me for help." Nightwing arched his eyebrows, stood up, and sauntered out. I heard the motorcycle roar away.
•••
Robin shuffled out from under the table on his knees as Kon and Cassie came back into the room. Cassie quickly snapped his photo.
"Stop that," he grumbled.
"Relax, your face was covered."
"I'd noticed." Robin struggled to his feet and turned away while Cassie took two more pictures.
"I've got two more rolls of film after this one."
"Well, stop it!" said Robin. "We can't let anyone take our pictures."
"'We' meaning you and Nightwing?" Kon asked. "Because I noticed he didn't get huffy about the cake. I figured he'd have a sense of humor."
"If you were so sure about that, why were you just hiding from him?"
"I was not!" Kon said.
"You and Cassie waited at the top of the stairs until he left," I pointed out.
Cassie looked a little embarrassed, but Kon stuck out his chin. "We were just giving you guys some privacy. On your birthday." As Robin rolled his eyes, Kon added, "I could've taken Nightwing. He hasn't got any special powers, right?"
"That's right. Neither of us do." Robin suddenly flexed his arms. The rope broke at the cut spot and fell in coils to the floor.
Kon and Cassie gaped.
"But having him see me like this was embarrassing," Robin went on. "I try to convince him how we're a real hero team, and then you go do something juvenile."
"Get over it!" shouted Kon.
"I am over it," Robin said. "But it's still all over me." He strode out of the dining hall.
Kon stomped after him. "Where are you going?"
"I have to sponge off my uniform."
"Good, 'cause you're kinda messy," Bart called as we passed the rec room. He caught up with us in an instant. "I was wondering why—"
"It's his birthday," said Cassie.
"I didn't say that!" snapped Robin.
But Bart had already slapped his forehead and zipped away. We heard two seconds of whizzing and scratching and tearing from the rec room, and then he was back with a small bundle wrapped in hand-colored paper and tied with an elaborate bow made out of an unraveled thread of the carpet. "Happy birthday, Robbie!"
"You didn't have to go do that, Bart," said Robin.
"Do what? I had that present ready last week. I didn't forget!"
"No, you didn't forget. I didn't tell anyone about my birthday."
"Which is today," said Cassie.
"It is!" I said, manifesting myself. "I heard that Nightwing say so."
"Ha!" said Kon, pumping the air. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Suzie, please," Robin muttered to me. He faced us all. "I was—I am keeping my birthday secret for security. Look, guys, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me—"
"No, you don't," said Cassie. "You're just pushing us away."
"No, I'm not! I came out here today, even though I have a lot of stuff at home tonight, because I like seeing you, okay? I like hanging out. But I don't need cake, and I don't need Bart's Starfighters game—"
"How'd you know that?" asked Bart, gazing at his package.
"It's the size and shape for a video game," said Cassie. "But how'd he know which one?"
"Yeah," grumbled Kon. "I'm the one who should have x-ray vision."
Robin sighed. "Starfighters is Bart's latest favorite, and he wouldn't give anyone a present that he didn't was the best. So Bart—thanks, you're a great friend. But I don't want to do anything that says it's my birthday."
He spun around, his cape swirling, and strode into a locker room.
Kon and Bart looked at each other and followed him. Cassie looked at me, and we followed the boys.
•••
"Cassie! Suzie!" Kon scolded. "The sign says MEN'S."
"Oh, grow up," said Cassie. "We're not finished, Robin. This isn't just about today. It's about everyday. It's about you not trusting us."
"I do trust you," sad Robin. He finished running a sink of water and started mopping his face with a cloth. He swabbed at his vest and collar. "I go into battle with you. I trust you with my life."
"But not with your secrets. Why?"
"Kon said it before," said Robin.
"I did?" said Kon.
"Batman, Nightwing, me—we don't have any powers. That's why we wear masks. That's why I don't tell anyone my real name. That's why I'm always announcing a plan before we go in."
Kon snorted. "You're bossy because you have no powers?"
"If something blows up, you guys are strong enough to get through it, or fast enough to get away, but I need a plan."
"But we'd take you with us, Rob," Bart insisted.
"I know. But I still have to be more careful. More careful than any of you." He frowned at his face in the mirror. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take a shower. For some reason, I have blue gunk in my hair."
Kon threw up his hands. "Oh, come on, man! Just jump in the pool! You know we have our very own pool, right?"
"I know," snapped Robin. "I arranged for it to be filled, remember?"
"Yeah, but have you ever been in it?"
Robin didn't answer for a second. I couldn't remember him ever going swimming, though don't like to go near the water myself.
His voice was softer when he finally said, "I've hung out with you there. Sometimes."
"Well, today," said Kon, "we're gonna have a pool party."
"I don't want a—"
"It's not a party for you, bird-boy. It's a Young Justice party! And everyone has to go in—including you."
"But not you, Suzie," Cassie assured me. "Not if you don't like water."
Robin was sticking out his bottom lip in that handsome way. "Sorry, I don't even have a swimsuit."
"So we'll buy you one!" said Kon. He pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket. "I've got, um, $3."
"Oh, for goodness' sake," said Cassie, unzipping her wallet. "Here's $10."
"And I have five," said Bart, hands flashing from one pocket to another. "Somewhere." He sat down and shook a green wad out of one shoe.
"Me, too!" I said. "I mean, I would if I had any—"
"We know, Suzie," said Cassie. "Your job is to watch Robin—"
"Oh, I will!"
"—and make sure he doesn't try to sneak away while Bart runs into town to buy Robin a bathing suit."
"Okay!" said Bart, and he was gone.
"I won't sneak away," Robin said. "And I can buy my own—"
"But you haven't," said Cassie. "That's why we sent Bart."
"Who doesn't know what size I wear," Robin pointed out.
"That's because you treat your underwear size as classified."
Robin smiled for an instant, but then turned serious again. "Look, there's a reason I—"
"Hold still!" Bart was back with a tape measure labeled "Krohn's Discounts," and a slight whiff of burnt rubber wisping up his legs. He wrapped the tape around Robin's waist, squinted at the numbers, and then disappeared again.
"There's a reason I keep all these secrets," Robin resumed, more quietly.
"Because the Batman says so," muttered Kon.
"The Batman says so because he has a good reason for saying so. People out there are hunting for him, which means they're hunting for me. They'll take any piece of information about me they can find—my birthday, my voiceprint, the shape of my ears."
"Someone's going to match a photo of you to your second-grade school picture and figure out who Robin is?"
"Yes!" said Robin. "Maybe not like that, but it could happen. You don't know what the Batman's enemies are like! If they find out who I am, then they can find out who the Batman is. And who Nightwing is. They'll find out who my—they'll track down my family! You don't know what it's like to have that responsibility, Kon. All you have is your tactile telekinesis!"
Kon frowned. "Hey, I got people."
"And I have my mom," said Cassie. "If anything happened to her—"
"I know," said Robin. "But you guys have powers. I can't fly home. I can't punch through walls. So pardon me if I don't go around telling people what my birthday is!"
We all stood around silently for a minute until Bart suddenly reappeared with a plastic bag that said KROHN'S in big red letters. "I found a suit in all your colors, Robbie!" he shouted happily, pulling out a pair of baggy black shorts with big slices of watermelon and bananas all over them.
Everyone stared at the shorts for a second, then started laughing.
"We'll give you some privacy to change," said Cassie. "Come on, Suzie."
So I had to leave, too. As Kon and Cassie sped upstairs to their rooms, Bart was already in the pool, shouting, "Where is everybody?" I had nothing to do but wait outside the locker room. And wait.
Kon and Cassie dashed back down in their bathing suits. Cassie dove in and began swimming laps. Kon and Bart practiced pulling each other underwater. And I was still waiting.
Then I heard: "Suzie."
I flowed under the door. "What?"
Robin had taken off his uniform, except for his mask, and put on the bathing suit. He was sitting on one of the benches, bare feet on his piled-up clothes and hands in the air.
"What?"
"Can you ask Kon or Cassie to come here? I, um, need a little help."
"Robin needs help!" I called.
"What is it?" shouted Bart from the doorway before he slid past and slammed into the wall at the corner of the hallway.
"What's wrong?" asked Cassie.
"What?" asked Kon, appearing in the door a second later.
"Nothing bad!" Robin said. "I don't want to leave any fingerprints or footprints, so I, um,...need a lift to the pool."
"We get to throw you in the pool?" crowed Kon.
"No, you get to drop me in the pool," said Robin. "Hey!"
Cassie had taken hold of one arm and Kon had grabbed the other. They flew down the hallway, Robin hanging between them.
"Bart!" he called back. "Bring my towel, and boots, and—glub!"
•••
An hour later, Robin pulled himself onto the edge of the pool, toweled off his feet, and pulled his boots on. He tugged on his gloves and ran off to the locker room. In a few minutes he was back, in full uniform with his traveling bag.
"It was a great party," he said, "but I gotta get back to Gotham." We called goodbye. Bart pouted, and tried to splash him, and finally said goodbye as well. At the door, Robin turned around one more time. "And guys—thanks for the help."
He walked out to the supercycle. And I was the only one who knew that in his bag were three rolls of film.
